More Than Friends (8 page)

Powerful arms held her close; her breasts flattened against his chest. Her blouse and bra provided an unwelcome barrier to further intimacy. She parted her lips, eager to know more, straining to remember everything.

His tongue entered immediately, pushing past her teeth, searching the warm sweetness. Her body, never awake much before ten, rippled as if an electric current had been connected to each nerve ending. He tasted of toothpaste, the mint mingling with a half-remembered flavor. It was like trying to describe a childhood Christmas. There were no exact words for the memory, just feelings of the familiar, the comforting, the arousing. They dueled as they had a hundred, no a thousand times before, beginning a game of seek-and-destroy with the prize of passion going to both victor and vanquished.

The heat from his body inflamed her, while the strength of his arms offered a haven. His hands traced the length of her back, then slipped over her hips to cup her derriere and pull her firmly against him. Her fingers kneaded the strength of his shoulders, pressing smooth skin and hard muscle. No one had ever made her feel this way before; no one would again.

Past and present merged until the boy and the man were one and she knew she’d been a fool to believe she’d forgotten any of it. The truth brought pain. A lump formed in her throat and she stiffened slightly and swallowed. He released her instantly.

They stared at each other, their breathing rapid and shallow. Instead of giving off light, the fire in his eyes darkened the irises to smoldering black. But the shock was clearly visible. As was the desire.

“I thought it would be different,” he said at last, turning away and walking to the window.

“Me, too.”

“I won’t apologize.”

“Thank you.” She glanced down and saw that her hands were clenched into tight fists. She relaxed each finger, then forced herself to smile, hoping that by ignoring the sudden awkwardness, she could make it go away. “I’m sure it’s just left-over emotion. We never said goodbye to each other, all those years ago.”

“Unfinished business?” he asked without turning around.

She stared at his bare back. Eleven years ago he’d been broad and strong, but she would have been able to feel the ribs through undeveloped muscle. Today the bones were hidden by sleek, defined flesh. Worn jeans hung low on his hips. The scent of him clung to her blouse. It would haunt her all day.

“Yeah. Unfinished business.”

“Jenny, I—”

“Don’t.” She cut him off. “You said you wouldn’t apologize. It just happened.”

He kept his back to her and held the curtain slightly open. “I never forgave you.”

“I know.”

“I told myself it didn’t matter.”

“But it does.”

“Yes. It does.”

It shouldn’t hurt, she told herself. She was doing this
for
him. With a single explanation, perhaps two or three choice phrases, she could tell him the truth. He wouldn’t hate her anymore. But at what price? No. She’d made her decision eleven years ago. And then again yesterday. He didn’t need to know what had really happened that summer. He had enough to worry about with his father.

“You’re still angry,” she said softly. “I understand.”

“I’m not sure that I do. I’ve spent eleven years hating you and what you did. And here I am, in your house.”

She wanted to go to him and offer comfort. But it wasn’t hers to give. “Just accept it, Chase. Nothing is the way we thought it would be. In time—”

“In time, I’ll be outta here.” He let the curtain fall.

The lump in her throat returned. She coughed. “I’ve got to get to the mill. If you have a chance today, let me know how your father’s doing.”

“Sure. No problem.”

She paused, hoping he’d turn around and look at her or say something, but he remained silent and still, his back to her, staring out at her backyard.

Her coat and purse sat by the door. Jenny grabbed her belongings and hurried toward her car. She wasn’t late, but that didn’t stop her from speeding down the street. She needed to put as much distance between herself and Chase as possible. They might have grown up in the last eleven years, they might have learned things and changed in more ways than she could tell, but his kiss had shown her that some things remained exactly the same.

*

“Do you have any
idea
of the rumors flying—”

Jenny held up her hand. Instantly the visitor stopped speaking, but continued to stand in the doorway of her office and tap her foot. Jenny hit several more keys on the computer keyboard to complete the report, then pressed the save function and swiveled to face her sister.

“Good morning, Anne,” she said calmly. “What brings you to the mill today?”

“Oh, fine. Pretend like you don’t know. The entire town is talking about you, Jennifer Davidson. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it for myself.”

Jenny glanced at her sister. Anne and Jenny were the most similar of the four sisters, in appearance, if not in temperament. But as the oldest, Anne was also the bossiest and most outspoken. Even a husband and three children under the age of six had done nothing to defuse her energy. Even now, with a baby propped on one hip, she fairly radiated indignation and a mother-bear-like willingness to do battle for her own.

“Well?” she said when Jenny didn’t speak.

“You want some coffee?”

“I want some answers.”

“Annie, I’m a big girl. I can do what I like.” Jenny grinned. “And I have no clue what we’re talking about.”

Her sister sat in the chair opposite the desk and settled the baby on her knee. “Chase Jackson. He spent the night with you.”

Jenny whistled. “News travels fast. What did you do? Send out a patrol to check on me in the middle of the night? I believe this is an example of Neighborhood Watch going amok.”

“One of my neighbors has a little boy with an ear infection. She went to the all-night pharmacy to get a prescription filled and, on the way, happened to drive by your house. Her sister works in reception at the hospital. She’d seen Chase drive up in a Bronco. That same truck was still in your driveway not forty minutes ago.”

“You drove by, too?”

“Of course. What are you thinking of? He’s trouble. He’s always been trouble, Jenny. Hasn’t he done enough?”

Her family cared about her. That’s what made it bearable. But sometimes… “Chase and I are friends. Despite everything that happened, we’ve always been friends.”

Anne shifted the baby until she was lying on her back, then pulled a bottle from the diaper bag she’d slung over the arm of the chair. “Some friend. You haven’t seen or heard from him in eleven years.”

“I know that. But don’t forget Dad beat him up and practically ran him out of town. You can’t blame Chase for that.”

“No, but I blame him for other things.”

Jenny shook her head. “No. That was
not
his fault.”

“Then whose was it?”

She stared at the sweet baby in her sister’s arms. “The rapist’s.”

“Jen, I didn’t mean—”

“I know.” She tried to smile. “It’s okay. Look, I appreciate your concern, but what I do with Chase is my business. For what it’s worth, he needed a place to stay and I offered him the spare room.”

“A place to stay?” Anne snorted. “As if that mansion on the other side of town doesn’t have enough empty rooms.”

“I know it sounds funny, but it’s true. He doesn’t like the house.”

Her sister began to feed the baby. “Are you still in love with him?”

“No.” She answered without thinking. It was only after the word was out that she prayed it was true.

“Are you sure? There was always something between you.”

“He was my first crush, my first boyfriend, my first kiss. And before that, we’d been friends, best friends, for years. Of course we had something. Something pretty wonderful. But we’ve both grown up and apart. Everything is different now.”

She picked up a paper clip and willed herself not to blush. Not
everything
was different. The passion was exactly as she had remembered. Even an hour after the fact, she could still feel the strength of his body pressing against hers, taste him, hear the rapid pant of his breathing.

It was just hormones, she told herself firmly. Since she’d broken off her engagement with Alec, there hadn’t been anyone in her life. Her reaction to Chase was perfectly understandable under the circumstances.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Anne said.

“I won’t. It’s only for a couple of weeks. When his father is better, it’ll be like he was never here. I promise, I’ll be fine.”

Green eyes, so much like her own, studied her. “And if the old man doesn’t get better?”

Jenny shrugged.

Anne brushed her daughter’s cheek. “I may not remember that much about Chase Jackson, but I do know one thing. He hates this town and it hates him. He’ll never stay here. Not even if his father dies and he inherits the mill.”

“So?”

“So keep out of his way. You don’t need more trouble in your life. None of us do.”

The baby finished her bottle. Jenny held out her arms and took her niece. After positioning her over her shoulder, she patted the baby’s back gently until a very unladylike burp filled the office. The infant, all warm and smelling of talc and formula, made her heart clench tightly. She’d never had the chance to hold her own child. Had never seen the perfectly formed body. At the time, her family had been protecting her, but lately she’d wondered if she should have insisted. Maybe seeing the tiny coffin would have convinced her that her baby had really died. Maybe she wouldn’t always be so aware of an empty spot deep inside, as though she’d lost a piece of herself.

“I’ve got to get going,” Anne said, packing the empty bottle and pulling out an infant blanket. “Call me if you need anything—even just to talk.”

“I will.” Jenny kissed her niece on the cheek and whispered, “Goodbye, pumpkin.”

Anne slung the diaper bag over her shoulder. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She paused in the doorway. “Dad’s here to see some guys in the mill. He’s planning to come up and talk to you.”

Her sister’s tone warned her that the conversation wasn’t going to be about her invitation to dinner the following Sunday. “Don’t tell me—”

Anne shrugged. “He knows about Chase staying with you.”

Jenny straightened in her chair. “I’m a grown woman. He doesn’t scare me.”

“Uh-huh. Just keep your butt covered, little sister. And if he starts to take off his belt, run like hell.”

Jenny chuckled long after the footsteps had faded. Her father might yell a little, or a lot, but his bark was much worse than his bite.

She returned to the computer and printed out the monthly report. Income was down. It had been dropping steadily for several years. The reason wasn’t difficult to figure out. Offshore steel production was cheaper and more efficient. Newer equipment, reduced wages, inexpensive land costs. Jackson Steel was surviving on investment interest and little else. What was going to happen if William Jackson died?

Not
if
, she thought.
When
. It was just a matter of time. If not this year, then next. Anne was right; Chase
did
hate the town. And with good reason. But if he turned his back on the company—

She walked to the window overlooking the mill. A thousand people were employed there. Friends, neighbors, family.

She’d been an employee almost ten years, but it seemed like only yesterday that she and Chase had walked along the river talking about the future. There had been so many plans. Dreams that had all started with their leaving Harrisville behind. Life had been simple; to find happiness they only needed to look to each other and the promise of tomorrow. Now she was all grown up. The dreams were a memory: the reality was she had an obligation to her family and the mill.

Jenny picked up the report and carried it to the controller’s office. On her return trip, she stopped to chat with the secretaries in the large work area across the hall, then asked about the supply clerk’s grandchildren. It was only when she glanced at her watch for the third time that she realized she was trying to stay out of her office longer than her father would be willing to wait for her.

Grinning wryly, she made her way back.

The large man filling the chair that Anne had recently vacated, sat stiffly, impatiently tapping his fingers. She slipped up behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I know you’ve come to yell at me, but I’m not going to listen, so save your breath.”

Frank Davidson ducked to avoid her kiss on his cheek and untangled her hands. “Don’t try to sweet-talk me, girly. The rumors are all over town this morning.”

“So I’ve heard.” She perched on the corner of her desk. “I’m all grown-up, Daddy. You can’t tell me what to do.”

He sighed. “Letting him spend the night? You should be ashamed.”

“Be careful,” she warned. “The last time you accused Chase you were very wrong.”

Frank glanced away. “Maybe. About that. But he did other things that—”

“No. He didn’t. You’ve always been quick to judge Chase, just because of his father, just as Mr. Jackson judged me by you.”

“The boy’s trouble. Barely back twenty-four hours and he’s got the whole town talking.”

“That’s not his fault. I could have told him to go away.”

“Why didn’t you?”

A simple enough question. But she wasn’t sure of her answer. Because of what they had once been, that she knew. Because deep in her heart, she felt responsible for his pain, even though she knew she wasn’t. Because… “Because I’ve missed him,” she said at last.

“He’s used to getting what he wants. The boy was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He hasn’t changed.”

“That’s not true. He’s very successful in Phoenix. He has his own construction company. You know he left here with nothing.”

“Construction, eh? So the mighty Jackson boy has become a blue-collar worker like the rest of us.” Her father rose to his feet. “Who would have thought?”

“Don’t make trouble, Daddy,” she said, going to him.

He gave her a brief hug. “Then keep him out of your house.”

“No.”

He tilted her chin up until their eyes met. “You’ve always been the most stubborn of my girls. I was too easy on you when you were growing up.”