Montana Skies (You, Me and the Kids) (Harlequin Superromance, No 1395) (16 page)

“I need to get some tools for work,” he explained while he unlocked and opened the door, but there was something in his eyes, that look again.

Carly watched them go and as soon as the door shut behind them, she glanced at Skylar. “Did you
see
that?”

Skylar ignored her and continued to glare at the door, her mouth twisted into an ugly sneer. She shoved herself off the wall where she leaned and headed back to the kitchen, but when she passed the garage door, she raised her middle finger.

“Skylar!” She giggled. “Why'd you do that for?”

 

J
ONAS SHUT THE DOOR
behind him and Rissa, and held it closed in case curious minds decided to follow them. With his other hand, he beckoned Rissa close and snagged an arm around her waist to pull her against him. He buried his nose in her fragrant hair. “You smell so good,” he sighed, the tension draining from him now that she was near. That was
not
a good sign. Carly wasn't the only one he reminded on a near daily basis that Rissa and Skylar would soon be gone, but right now he couldn't think about it. “I'm sorry, Rissa.”

“For what?” she murmured. “You can't control other people, and you defended our presence here quite admirably.”

He pulled away far enough to kiss her forehead, her cheek, skimmed lower to kiss her mouth. Rissa opened for him and wrapped her arms tight around his back. He liked the feel of her hands on him, the way her breasts pressed high on his stomach. She fit him perfectly. Too perfectly.

“Mmm, I think I heard a giggle.”

“Don't worry about it, I've got the door.”

With that bit of news, her arms tightened even more and Rissa flashed him a brief smile, one of awareness and desire. She wanted more? God knew he wanted her to feel what he did. In the past week he hadn't stopped thinking about her, how she laughed, the way she moved. Smiled. Tasted.

Rissa held on to him for balance and raised to her tiptoes, kissing him like there weren't two teenagers on the other side of the door, before she pulled away and seductively wiped her lip gloss from his lips with her thumb. Jonas nipped at her, making no attempt to hide the effect she had on him. One kiss and he wanted to press her against the wall. Taking things slow had never been so torturous.

She looked a bit shaky herself when she pushed him away. “Go to work,” she whispered huskily, “or I won't be able to face the girls. We'll be here when you get home.”

Jonas smiled, liking the sound of that way too much, and let himself forget for a moment that it wouldn't always be true.

 

J
ONAS SPENT
the next day on edge. When he'd gotten home from work Rissa and the girls had been curled up on the couch surrounded by teen magazines. The baked cake had been covered and put away since Carly wanted to wait and celebrate after she received her makeover.

The rest of the evening his daughter had talked nonstop about clothes and hair and makeup, and Rissa had silently teased him when he continually failed to follow along. She seemed to know it was because of her and the kiss in the garage.

Jonas frowned and hit his turn signal to head down
the street toward his house. The more Carly had talked and laughed and the more tension between him and Rissa had risen, the quieter Skylar had become. She'd glared at him, sent her mother looks that would've withered most anything, and Rissa either didn't notice or chose to ignore Skylar's expressions. With the girls always present, he didn't have a chance to ask if Skylar had said anything about Carly's claim. Marilyn had certainly pointed it out in her upset before leaving, but he'd quickly informed her the topic wasn't up for discussion.

No doubt Skylar and Marilyn were both worried about what would happen if he and Rissa hooked up. Skylar would be his stepdaughter and her image
was
a problem so—

Stepdaughter?

He shook his head at his thoughts. He was getting way too serious about a temporary woman.

Jonas stopped the car and got out, making his way to the door with no small amount of dread. The makeover and his daughter's new look and attitude, Rissa and Skylar—things were changing and not necessarily for the better. But like a boulder rolling down a hill, there was no way to stop his feelings now that they'd begun. And they'd started the first time he'd seen her, cemented the second time when she'd smiled at him outside The Blooming Rose.

Before his hand could land on the knob, the door swung open and Rissa's smiling face had him forgetting all about his worries. At least until she said, “Brace yourself,” with a sympathetic yet amused expression and stepped to the side.

Framed in the hallway behind her stood his baby girl, no longer a baby at all.

Carly's normally curly hair was board-straight and
teased the sides of her delicate face. A lightly made-up face that brought out the gray of her eyes in startling detail, left her freckles to be seen—
thank God
—and made her lips shine with a bit of sparkle. Her cheeks held just a hint of color, and her long lashes were darkened, her eyes looking bigger than ever.

She wore a thin, stretchy shirt the color of bronze, snug jeans with embroidery and sparkles along the legs, and a wide belt dangled from her slim hips. Brown, low-heeled shoes added to her height, and overall the look was perfectly decent, but definitely more grown-up and different than anything she'd worn in the past.

“Well?” Carly asked, turning around slowly, posing with her hands on her hips, a too grown-up expression on her face. “What do you think? Do you like it?”

He had to clear his throat twice before he could speak. “You look…beautiful. Absolutely amazing.” And more like her mother than he'd ever noticed her resembling.

“Are you going to come in and join us?” Rissa teased.

The laughter and understanding in her eyes cut through the terror sliding through his overprotective dad-cop bloodstream. Once the boys saw his little girl looking like that—

Rissa took hold of his arm and tugged him into the house before closing the door behind him.

“I only went a little over the budget, but I'll pay you back with my allowance and job money. We bought two more pairs of jeans, a few shorts and we found a bunch of tops on sale to mix and match.”

“That's…great.”

Rissa covered her mouth with her hand, but it did nothing to hide the smile in her eyes. “Carly, I think your dad needs some time to adjust. Why don't you and
Skylar go hang your new clothes up in your room while he unwinds a bit? I'll get him some food and then we'll cut that cake and celebrate.”

Carly took off down the hall without a word of protest, and Skylar's dark shadow detached from a wall and followed. Until then, Jonas hadn't even seen her.

“Come on. You look like someone sucker punched you.”

“I feel that way, too,” he admitted honestly, following Rissa and enjoying the sway of her hips while she led the way to the kitchen where a grilled chicken salad waited. “It's not much, but I found it in your fridge and figured when you saw her, you could use the food to keep your strength up.”

That brought out a resigned chuckle. “Thanks for planning ahead.” He sat down at the bar. “I still can't believe the difference.”

“Amazing, isn't it? A few highlights, a little wax and she definitely doesn't look like a little girl anymore.”

Wax? Jonas poured himself a glass of iced tea and shoveled a bite of chicken into his mouth while Rissa told him all about his daughter's makeover and where they'd shopped per Maura's urging. Before long the food was gone and the girls were back, Skylar's scowl in place.

“Is it time for cake?” Carly grinned, her excitement visible.

Jonas grabbed the camera and snapped some pictures. Carly with her purple cake and fourteen candles plus one for luck, Rissa and Skylar beside her. Skylar and Carly together, the older girl unsmiling.

Rissa held out her hand for the camera, and Jonas gave it to her before stepping to his daughter's side. That
led to Carly asking Skylar to take a picture of the three of them. Rissa glanced at him nervously.

“Can't,” Skylar muttered, holding the camera Carly had shoved toward her. “It's out of film.”

Rissa quickly cut the cake and Jonas sipped his coffee, liking the chatter and laughter filling his kitchen. Amazed at the difference in his daughter. She was so at ease with them.

“Dad, we need a digital camera so we can take more pictures,” his daughter complained before adding, “Hey, I know what we can do! Can we go to the movies?”

“Tonight? Caro, I've had a long couple days.”

She bit her lip. “Actually, I meant me and Skylar…by ourselves.
Please,
Dad? It's my birthday!”

“Yesterday was your birthday. What, you want a birthday
weekend?
”

She giggled. “Of course!”

Jonas glanced at Rissa, who shrugged and mouthed, “up to you.” “Okay. But the early show which means we've got to leave now.”

“If you want to drop them off, I'll stay and clean up,” Rissa offered.

Jonas noted Skylar didn't look thrilled at the prospect of going anywhere with him, but she didn't protest. Good thing because he figured it was a test of sorts.

After they piled into his cruiser, Jonas tried to make conversation with Skylar, but the girl was rude in the extreme, either glaring at him, rolling her eyes or sneering at him in response. Finally he gave up and they made it across town to the old theater in no time, but per his daughter's embarrassed request, he dropped them off at a nearby corner and then kept them in sight while they walked the block and purchased their tickets.

A group of teens crowded around a bench out front and they said something when the girls walked by. Jonas couldn't hear what it was, but from the look on Skylar's face it wasn't good. The heavily made-up teen kept walking, though, and in that moment, Jonas saw that she was truly trying to stick to the terms of their agreement. Which meant he had to be willing to overlook her rude attitude and behavior whenever possible. She was Rissa's daughter, and if he wanted a relationship with Rissa, he had to come to terms with Skylar for as long as they stayed in North Star.

He saw Skylar turn and search the parking lot until her gaze locked on the cruiser where he sat a ways away. From there he could see her smirk, but she trudged her way into the building without pause. Carly followed after her, but at a slower pace, smiling nonstop, obviously enjoying the response to her new look.

Jonas stayed a bit longer to make sure there wasn't any trouble either inside or out, that no calls to dispatch were made. By the time he put the car into gear and drove home, nearly forty minutes had passed. He locked the door behind him, set his watch alarm so he wouldn't forget the girls, and found Rissa in the kitchen, drying the dishes and reading the newspaper at the same time.

“Hey, you're back.”

“I'm back.” Something in his tone must have warned her about his thoughts because she wet her lips and smiled shyly.

Stepping closer, he watched her gaze become soft yet wary, seductive. She shook her head, her expression torn, and Jonas wondered if her mind tried to warn her body what was coming. His certainly had, not that it had worked.

The image of Rissa scooting out from beneath her car flashed through his head. She might be a city girl, but she wasn't the high-maintenance kind like Lea. Maybe they could find a place on the outskirts of North Star, closer to Helena and the airport. Surely one of the airlines there would be hiring flight attendants eventually? A compromise of sorts that would satisfy them both?

And Skylar?

“Jonas, I—”

“What?”

“That's just it.” She groaned softly. “I don't know. When you're around I—I'm happy and sad and—” she glared at him “—horny. It's not fair!”

His heart in his throat, he pulled her into his arms, the dishtowel trapped between them. “Horny, huh? I'll use anything to my advantage.”

“Why doesn't that surprise me?”

He chuckled at her disgruntled tone. “Would it help to know I feel the same way? I can't allow myself to think about you when I'm at work because I wind up having to do everything twice.”

“Really?” A smile curled the corners of her full lips, but her expression remained hesitant. “Then I'm not the only one driving myself nuts thinking of all the reasons we shouldn't be together? What we're risking…?”

“Not by a long shot.”

“But here we are.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, right between her eyes. “Here we are.” Another to her cheek. “Alone.” Another. “Very, very alone… Hear that?” She shook her head. “Exactly.”

Closing her eyes, Rissa swallowed audibly. “Jonas,
I don't know if… If I let myself,” she whispered, “I think—I—I…”

His feelings exactly.

“And I can't.” Her voice lowered. “I
can't
, Jonas. Skylar shot us death glares all evening if we even smiled at the same time. I can't believe she willingly left us alone.” She shook her head again. “She must've really wanted to see that movie.”

He lowered his head until his mouth was directly over hers, their breaths mingling. A moment passed, and he gave her every opportunity to pull away. To do what he couldn't.

She moaned softly and raised herself on tiptoe, pressed her mouth to his, her eyes open, her need, her hesitation, there for him to see. One kiss turned into two, her lashes lowered at five, and then Jonas lifted her up onto the counter and settled himself between her spread legs.

“J
ONAS
… W
AIT
,” she murmured, holding him off with her hands at his shoulders. “We said we'd do this slow, but— Have you ever heard of speed dating?”

He shook his head with a muttered no and Rissa laughed, the sound flowing over his skin like erotic music. “It's a quick way of getting to know one another, there's an article about it in the newspaper.”

“Is that right?” he asked against her mouth.

“Mmm. Want to try?”

“Do I have to stop kissing you?”

Her breath tickled his ear when she laughed. “What's your…favorite color?”

“Green.”

“Mine's blue,” she whispered, her hands falling to the buttons of his shirt. She undid three and yanked, forcing Jonas to stop and pull his uniform shirt from his pants, willing to play along so long as he got to play with her. “Favorite food?”

He pressed a kiss to the spot below her ear. “I love fried chicken.”

“Shrimp with lobster sauce,” she murmured, tilting her head back to give him better access. “We need to eat healthier.”

Buttons undone, her hands slid over his chest, linger
ing on his pecs and making Jonas glad he'd kept in shape. His gaze narrowed, liking how she seemed to have gotten a little dazed while touching him. He knew the feeling. She was so beautiful.

“Country music,” he countered, dispensing with the “what's your favorite' part of the question and
not
liking it that her hands were causing him to want to forget slow and easy and go for quick and satisfying.

“Classic rock and roll.”

“I can deal with that.” His hands slipped under her T-shirt and he grinned when she gasped. Jonas tugged the material over her head and let it drop to the floor, then covered the cups of her bra with his hands, kissing her deeply. “Mysteries.”

“Huh? Oh, um…romances. Really gushy, emotional ones.”

“Rain storms.” He trailed his lips down her neck to her shoulder, biting gently. She stiffened in his arms and gasped out his name, the sound accompanied by a breathy moan.

“B-blue skies.”

“Long winter nights, a blazing fire.”

“Got—got me there.”

“Small towns.”

“Anywhere with an airstrip.”

“Fly-fishing.”

“Flying.”

He paused, more than a little dazed, and pulled away. “Flying? You like being a flight attendant so much it's your favorite hobby?”

She nipped his chin, soothing the little bite with a stroke of her tongue, and laughed up at him. “One, I
never
said I was a flight attendant. I said, I worked for
an airline. And two, if you haven't already figured it out, I'm a pilot. I'm certified roto and fixed wing, and I don't ‘like flying,' I
love
flying.”

Jonas chuckled, unable to hide his amazement. “A pilot and a mechanic to boot,” he murmured. “You are one amazing woman.”

“Thank you,” she drawled seductively, her hands smoothing over his chest. “You're not so bad yourself.”

“I take it you learned on planes?” He ran his hand down her hip and scooted her closer so that her breasts met his chest.

She nodded. “My dad was career military. Said I couldn't…fly them until I could repair, um, repair them if needed. Or at—
oh
—least, um, know if someone didn't do their…job.”

“Anything you can't do?” He paid close attention to the tender spot in the curve of her neck, wanting to hear her moan again.

“I'm a lousy shot.”

“Got'cha covered there,” he murmured, palming her side and following the length of her bra to unfasten the back. “No worries.”

She moaned when his thumb rubbed.

“Movies,” he ordered, the breathless quality of her voice jacking his desire up even more.
“Quigley Down Under.”

“Mmm…too many.” She tightened her thighs around his hips, the move making them both hold their breath for a moment.

Jonas raised his head from his exploration and he stared deeply into her eyes, willing her not to look away. “Marriage,” he challenged next.

Only the raspy, quickened sound of their breathing
filled the silence. “Forever,” she whispered, unblinking, but looking sad. Because of him and Carly? Skylar? Because she liked to fly? Whatever the reason, surely they could find some middle ground? Their connection was powerful. Too powerful to set aside for technical difficulties. Wasn't it?

Inordinately hopeful that he could—
would
—change her mind about leaving, Jonas gripped her hips and lifted her off the counter. Rissa gasped at the move, but locked her arms and legs around his back and pressed her mouth to his while he carried her into the living room and lowered her onto the oversized leather couch he favored. He followed her down and pinned her beneath him, loving the way she arched into his touch, realizing he loved her even though he knew he ought to know better.

Jonas laced his fingers gently into her hair until he found the clasp holding it in its bouncy ponytail and released the catch. Dropping it beside the couch, he fingered the silky length of blond hair and used it to guide her mouth back to his.

“This is crazy,” she murmured against his lips, “you know it is.” Rissa turned her face into the palm he used to caress her soft skin and squirmed beneath him. “We could wind up ruining a perfectly good friendship.”

“We could,” he agreed, leaning low to kiss her parted lips, drawn to the taste of her more than he'd been drawn to any woman in his life. “Or we could make it even better.”

“But like you said…if we leave—”

He latched onto the word. “If?”

She blinked, confusion spreading across her features. “I mean when,” she said with a quick shake to her head.
“
When
we leave…I don't want it to be with regrets or…or pain. For the girls or…us.”

The words hung there between them, the air thick with desire and need. Anticipation. What if he told her he loved her? Would it make a difference? It was then that his watch alarm began beeping.

“What is that? Your beeper?”

Jonas smothered a groan. “The girls. I set my watch to remind me to go pick them up.”

“You needed a reminder?” she teased, the barest hint of relief in her eyes.

He held back the words he wanted to say, and nodded. “I had a feeling once we were alone I'd be distracted.”

He stared down at her, the moment gone even though he was still hard and hungry for her.

“You'd—you'd better go get them.”

“Rissa?”

“Timing is everything, Jonas. And who knows? Maybe this…the girls are our reality check.”

 

M
ONDAYS SUCK
. Especially since she'd spent the last two periods watching Carly make an idiot out of herself. A little makeup and a new do and her friend thought she was a supermodel or something.

“Hey, did you see what happened back in class?”

Skylar grabbed her notebook and rolled her eyes. “You mean how jerk-wad said a few words to you and then leaned over the desk to look down your shirt? Yeah.”

Carly laughed. “He did not…did he? Shut up!
Really?
” She leaned closer and whispered, “My new bras fit better and make me look bigger.” She grinned. “Travis noticed?”

Skylar slammed the locker door closed and flipped
the dial on her lock. “Carly, I know you really wanted a makeover, but you've gotta realize jerks like Travis don't change. He might flirt and stuff, but it doesn't mean anything and you're crazy if you think it does.”

“Says who?” Carly demanded. “Maybe he's starting to like me.”

Skylar tilted her head sideways and stared. “You can't be serious. Considering what happened to you this year, you've got a
huge
ego to think it would all disappear overnight.”

“I do not!”

“Oh, yeah? What's the test on in world history tomorrow?”

She stared at her blankly. “There's a test?”

Skylar snorted. “See? All you've done today is check your hair and your makeup and look around to see if anybody's looking at you. Just like you did at the movies the other night.”

“It's because it's different and I like my new look. Everybody's talking about me and saying how pretty I am, and it's…nice.”

“That's fine, but you don't have to—”

“Hey, Carly. You wanna have lunch with us today?” Randy Spears stood a few feet away, a stupid grin on his face. “Me and the guys found room for you at our table.”

“Really? Oh, well…”

Skylar waited, her gaze narrowed while she watched Carly blush and stammer. Randy stepped closer, ignored Skylar entirely, and leaned on the lockers between them, effectively cutting her out of the discussion.
Jerk-wad Number Two.

“Come on. Come sit with us. You can't go to all the
trouble to look this hot and sit at the loser table. Besides, I know a guy who really wants to get to know you.”

“Who?”

Randy looked around and then leaned closer to Carly. “Trav.”

Skylar turned on her heel and walked away. Whatever Carly's answer was, she didn't want to hear it.

 

L
ATER THAT EVENING
Rissa dropped down onto the couch beside her daughter. “What's wrong? Something happen in school today?”

“No.”

“Did you get in trouble again?”

“Noo-o.”

Skylar shoved herself up into the corner of the couch away from her, flipping channels rapidly. She finally settled on a pop rock station. That was one of the things that had always given Rissa hope. Skylar might look like a Marilyn Manson groupie, but she didn't listen to that type of music. Instead she seemed to prefer contemporary artists and rock groups like Alanis Morissette and Evanescence. Even Kelly Clarkson, the common theme being love gone bad.

Had Skylar liked a boy back in New York? Before her dad's death when everything changed?

“I thought I'd have to unglue the telephone from your ear this evening. You and Carly talk every night when you get home from school—why not tonight?”

A shrug was her answer.

“O-kay.” Rissa stood and headed toward the kitchen only to pause. “Sky…when we moved, was there anyone you liked or—or someone special you didn't want to leave behind?”

Skylar stilled. “No. Why are you asking?” She shot to a sitting position and glared. “This isn't about Carly's dad, is it?”

“This is about you. I just wondered—”

“Because you're dating him?”

“Skylar—”

“
Are
you?”

“We're friends.” Their last evening together lent truth to her words. They were friends because, honestly, they weren't anything else. “You and Carly spend so much time together, how can we not be friends?”

“You promised! You said we'd only stay a little while!”

“And I'm asking because you and Carly have gotten so close. You're doing much better in school. I thought you might've changed your mind, that's all.”

Skylar slumped back down on the couch. “I haven't changed my mind. I don't want to stay.”

Wishing she'd never brought it up in the first place, Rissa sighed and fixed herself a glass of iced tea. She left Skylar to stare blankly at the gyrating figures, and stepped out on the porch, seating herself in the swing. Rissa leaned her head back against the wood slats and moaned.

“That sounded kind of disturbing. What's up?”

She raised her lashes and smiled weakly at her cousin. “Where are the boys?”

“Asleep. Jake's keeping an eye on them. What's wrong?”

“Everything.”

Maura leaned against the porch post at the bottom of the steps. “I didn't see you much yesterday since I was doing inventory, but Grace watched the kids for us Saturday night. Jake and I drove into town and took in a
movie. Strangely, we saw the girls, but not you and Jonas.” She raised a questioning eyebrow. “What did you do while they were there?” One look at her face had Maura's expression turning to one of slack-jawed glee. “You
did?
”

“We didn't,” she corrected hurriedly, glancing at the window. She hurried off the porch and away from the house, conscious of Maura hot on her heels.

“Well?”

“We…messed around a bit.”

“I
knew
it!”

“Nothing happened,” she insisted. “Seriously. Nothing except… Oh, Maura, I'm so confused.”

“What's the problem? He's certainly hot enough.”

“His being hot is part of the problem. When I think of Larry and his running around…”

Maura linked her arm in hers and pulled her toward one of the newly constructed paths. “Jonas is nothing like Larry, at least not now. After the divorce he might have accepted some of the offers tossed at him, but they weren't anything serious.”

“How can you be sure? Larry—”

“You and Larry weren't happy for a
long
time before he died. It's only natural for you to be leery of Jonas or any man. It's hard to get back in the swing of things.”

“And Skylar?” she asked. “He hates how she looks, her attitude and just now when I questioned Skylar about something, she bit my head off because she assumed I asked because of him.”

“Did you?”

Rissa groaned. “Sort of, but—I just asked if maybe she'd changed her mind about staying here because she's doing better in school and has Carly as a friend. She flat-out refused and threw the promise in my face.”

“Think she's afraid he'll try to take over? You know, ban the hair and makeup and all that stuff?”

“All I know is that she hates him, he doesn't particularly care for her and yet I'm in the middle and can't get Jonas out of my head.”