Just One Kiss (11 page)

Fate definitely had a sense of humor. A sick, pa
thetic sense of humor. And the sickest part of all was that Jack loved Marissa more than a little bit.

He closed his eyes and for a moment allowed that love to seep through him. He loved the way her skin felt beneath his fingertips, the silky softness of her halo of hair. But his love embraced more than the physical Marissa. He loved her wit, her humor, the gentleness of her spirit, the openness of her heart.

But if he followed his heart, if he allowed them to fall into a relationship, perhaps get married, how long would it be before she lost the optimism that guided her life? How long before her eyes lost their sparkle from the weight of living with his cynicism?

And what of Nathaniel? He deserved a father who was whole, a man with a complete and open heart. Jack had neither.

He stared out at the moonlit waves breaking onto the shore. No, it was better this way. He was meant to be alone. She was far better off without him. Eventually she would find her Mr. Right, a man who would believe as she believed, a man who could love Nathaniel without pain.

He frowned as he heard his own heartbeat, pounding a strange rhythm he'd never felt before. He finally recognized the rhythm as regret.

M
arissa tried to enjoy the rest of her vacation, but two days after she'd walked out of Jack's house for good, she realized she couldn't.

The Florida sunshine reminded her of the heat of Jack's kisses, the blue sky overhead was reminiscent of his eyes. In the crashing ocean waves, she heard his voice, his heartbeat, and she knew she had to leave Mason Bridge, leave Florida and her vacation behind.

She needed to get back to work, to fill her days with enough work that she fell into bed at night too exhausted to dream.

Nathaniel was a mess, too, whiny and fussing, and she wondered if he somehow felt her heartache, perhaps missed Jack enough to have a little heartache of his own.

Three days after she'd left Jack's house, she and Nathaniel boarded a plane bound for home. Thankfully, Nathaniel fell asleep almost the minute the plane left the ground.

Marissa stared out the window, grief weighing heavy on her heart. The most difficult thing of all to accept was that Jack loved her but had chosen to turn his back on what was in his heart.

It would have been wonderful had her love been enough to heal the wounds left by Sherry and Bobby, but apparently his scars were too deep to be cured.

If only he'd been able to see that he was filled with the need to love and be loved, that believing in happiness wasn't a weakness or a fault, but rather a strength to be envied.

It was easy to believe in happy endings when everything was going well. The real test of faith was to believe in happy endings when things had gone so wrong.

The clouds outside the plane window blurred together as tears gathered in Marissa's eyes. She quickly swiped them away. She refused to cry over Jack Coffey. For the past three days she had managed not to cry, and she wasn't about to do so now.

She told herself Jack Coffey wasn't worth crying about. He was a man who had chosen the path of misery in his life and didn't warrant the emotion of her tears.

Her grandmother was waiting for them at the
Kansas City International Airport. At the sight of the trim, gray-haired woman, a burst of love filled Marissa. When Marissa's mother had died, Belle Wilson had put aside her own anguish over her daughter's death and opened her home and her heart to the two grief-stricken little girls. From that moment on, Belle had been a source of strength, of comfort and wisdom for Marissa.

“Ah, there are my darlings,” she exclaimed as Marissa and Nathaniel came into view. She plucked Nathaniel from Marissa's arms and gave him a noisy kiss on the side of his face. Nathaniel giggled and wrapped his arms around his nana's neck.

“Are you okay?” She peered worriedly at Marissa.

“Fine.” Marissa forced a wide smile. “We had a wonderful time,” she said as they made their way toward the luggage carousel.

“If you had such a wonderful time, what are you doing home a week early?” Her grandmother's eyes peered into hers, as if to pierce her heart and see what lay within.

Marissa shrugged, her smile feeling stiff across her mouth. “We got tired of the rest and relaxation. We'd both had enough of the beach and I was just ready to come home.”

Belle stared at Marissa for another long moment, then sniffed in disbelief. “I suppose you'll tell me what happened when you're ready.”

“There's nothing to tell,” Marissa protested, but her words sounded false even to her own ears.

It took nearly twenty minutes for them to collect the luggage and get settled in Belle's car. Finally they were on their way to Marissa's small house.

As they zoomed down the interstate that would take them to the north suburb where Marissa lived, thoughts of Jack once again played in her mind.

What was he doing at this very moment? Did he miss her at all? Had she touched him in any way? And the biggest question of all—how long would it take for her to finally forget him? Would she ever be able to forget him?

“So, you want to talk about it?” Belle broke the silence that had fallen in the car.

“What makes you so sure there's anything to talk about?”

Belle smiled. “I know my girl, and I see shadows in those eyes that weren't there when you left here.”

Marissa stared out the window, unsure if she was ready to talk about Jack. Even his name evoked an incredible pain inside her.

She turned to look at Belle. “When you met Grandpa, was it love at first sight?”

“Oh, my heavens, no.” Belle laughed. “When I met your grandpa, I thought he was the most arrogant, obnoxious man I'd ever known.” Her laughter faded to a soft smile. “But by our third date I knew I wanted him in my life forever.”

Marissa frowned thoughtfully. “I always believed
when I met the man who was right for me, I'd know it in an instant and that it would be mutual.”

“That's a nice fantasy, but if that were true, we wouldn't have songs about broken hearts and unrequited love.”

Marissa sighed. “I guess that's true.”

“So, is that what this is about—a broken heart?” Belle asked softly. Tears burned at Marissa's eyes and she nodded her head. “Some good-looking beach bum took advantage of you?”

“No, nothing like that.” A small smile curved Marissa's lips. “Actually, Nathaniel broke his leg.”

“What?” Belle wheeled into the driveway of the rental house where Marissa lived. “Wait. Let's get inside, then I want to hear everything.”

Fifteen minutes later, with Nathaniel sitting happily in his familiar high chair and with fresh coffee in front of the adults, Marissa found herself telling Belle about Jack.

She told her of their ill-fated first meeting and of Jack's injuries, of their subsequent time spent together and about Jack's past.

Marissa had hoped that by talking it out, she'd see how crazy it was that she'd fallen in love with Jack so quickly, so devastatingly. But talking about it didn't ease the pain; rather, it made the ache sharper, more intense.

“I know it's crazy,” she said to Belle. “I only knew him such a short time.”

Belle smiled softly. “Love doesn't know time.
Love can happen in the flash of an eye, the beat of a heart, or it can grow slowly over years of shared experiences and time.”

“The most difficult thing of all to accept is that I know Jack was falling in love with me.” Marissa paused a moment, remembering their kisses, the tenderness in his eyes at odd moments when they'd been together. “But he was afraid to trust in it. He was so afraid to believe in love.”

Belle reached over and patted Marissa's hand. “Honey, you know what they say about a sow's ear and a silk purse. The same is certainly true with this Jack. You can't make a believer out of one who has lost all faith.”

Marissa nodded. She knew what her grandmother said was true. And she told herself she was better off without Jack in her life. Still, she desperately wished her heart would listen to her head.

 

For four days Jack prowled the confines of his house like a prisoner on house arrest, his mood worse than a grizzly bear whose winter sleep had been disturbed.

He knew with certainty that he'd done the right thing in sending Marissa and Nathaniel away, but he couldn't get the regret out of his head, out of his heart.

Even though he had sent her away, she remained in every room of the house. The sound of her laughter rang in his ears as he poured himself morning
coffee. The vision of her animated face danced before his eyes as he made his lunch. He imagined he smelled the scent of her as he tossed and turned in bed each night.

And it wasn't just Marissa who haunted him. It was Nathaniel, as well. The little boy's big blue eyes and delightful grin refused to vacate Jack's memory.

When they had been on the stakeout and Jack had held Nate in his lap while the toddler slept, Jack had been filled with a kind of quiet peace he hadn't felt since he'd held Bobby as a little boy.

He now stood on his deck, a cup of coffee in hand as he watched the morning sunlight dance atop the breaking waves. Even here, in the sunshine and salty air, Nate's and Marissa's shadows lingered, filling him with an abiding loneliness he'd never before experienced.

He could never get back the lost years with Bobby. Even if Barbara Klein called him tomorrow and managed to somehow arrange a reunion between himself and his son, the past five years would forever be lost.

It was odd, really, that Nate was about the age Bobby had been when Sherry had taken him away. It was almost as if fate were giving Jack a second chance to parent a needy child.

And Marissa. She wasn't a second chance at love. She was the first woman he'd cared about with such depth, with such emotion…with love.

He sipped his coffee and watched a gull dive into
the water, then a second later soar into the sky. That was what Marissa had done to him. She had plucked him from the depths of his misery and cast him into the uncertain air where hope had teased him, where dreams could reach him.

And it had scared the hell out of him. Life's victim or life's survivor? The question she'd asked him whirled in his head.

He turned as he heard the ringing of his doorbell. He limped toward the door and opened it to Maria. “It's not your cleaning day today, is it?” he asked with a frown.

“No, but I came to tell you I can't clean for you next week.” Maria swept past him, her broad features beaming with happiness.

“Why not?” Jack followed her.

Maria lowered herself onto the sofa with all the grace of a regal queen. “Next week my husband and I will be enjoying a Caribbean cruise.”

Jack sank into the chair across from her and eyed her in disbelief. “Maria, I've told you before, those promotional flyers you get in the mail for cheap cruises are scams.”

“This is no scam, Jack.” Her eyes sparkled with suppressed excitement. She leaned forward. “It finally happened.”

“What finally happened?” he asked in bewilderment.

“The Lotto.” She squealed and pulled a Lotto ticket out of her purse. “I always knew someday I'd
hit, and it finally happened. Five numbers out of six. Ten thousand dollars!” She jumped up from the sofa and danced a happy jig.

Despite his black mood, Jack found himself laughing. Her excitement was infectious, and Jack knew there was nobody who could use the good fortune as much as Maria and her husband.

He stood and gave her a quick hug. “I'm happy for you, Maria.”

She shrugged. “It's not a fortune, but it'll help some. And when we get back from the cruise, I'll clean this place one time for free.”

“You don't have to do that,” Jack protested as they walked back toward the front door. “I pay you what you're worth. Actually, I pay you more than you're worth,” he teased.

Maria laughed, then sobered and eyed him seriously. “She's good for you, Jack. The shadows in your eyes have eased. She and that little boy—they're your winning Lotto ticket.”

Jack didn't bother to tell her that he'd been a fool and had thrown away his winning ticket. As Maria waved goodbye and stepped out his door, regret once again surged inside him.

Visions of Marissa and Nate swept through his mind, filling him with a deep, abiding yearning for what might have been.

Victim or survivor? Marissa's words echoed in his ears.

Would he forever mourn what might have been
and not reach out to embrace what might be in his future? Would he allow his memories to obstruct any hope for happiness in the future?

His misery had held a certain comfort in that it was familiar, without surprises. Now the misery that swept through him as he thought of life without Marissa only felt…miserable.

He was the only one who could decide his role in life. Only he was in control of his future, and he had to decide if he wanted to remain alone with his memories or build a future with the woman and child he loved.

Energy soared through him, an energy intensified by the greatest need he'd ever known and an undercurrent of fear that he'd come to his senses too late.

He moved as quickly as he could to the front door, adrenaline sizzling through him. He opened the door and leaned over the stair railing. “Maria! Maria!”

She had reached her car, and now peered up at him.

“I need you to do me a favor,” he said.

She grinned. “It's going to cost you.”

He laughed, feeling more free than he had in days. “Trust me, it's worth whatever it costs.”

 

“Mr. Johnson in room 241 wants you to look in on him,” Roberta Stamm, the head nurse, said to
Marissa. “I know you were ready to go home, but could you check on him before you go?”

“Of course,” Marissa replied, and took off down the hospital hallway for room 241. This was her first day back to work. Her grandmother had tried to talk her into taking the full three weeks off, but Marissa had wanted to come back to work immediately upon returning from Mason Bridge.

She needed to be around people who had genuine illness, people who needed her comfort, her expertise, so she wouldn't be so focused on her own broken heart. She needed to be busy so she couldn't think about Jack Coffey.

And the day had been incredibly busy. Unfortunately she'd discovered that no matter what her task, no matter how hard she concentrated on a chore, thoughts of Jack intruded.

She entered room 241 and gave the gray-haired man a wide smile. “Hi, Mr. Johnson. Nurse Stamm said you wanted to see me.”

‘I'd rather be seeing the four walls of my own house,” the man said grumpily.

“It won't be long and you'll be able to go home,” Marissa soothed. Mr. Johnson had suffered a nasty case of pneumonia, but was now on the mend. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“You plumped my pillows real nice this morning and I wanted you to plump them again.” He sat up, indicating the flattened pillows behind his head.

“I think I can handle that.” Marissa picked up
one of the pillows and plumped it in her arms, then did the same with the other. She replaced them on the bed. “There, see if that's better.”