Dangerous Kiss (23 page)

He chuckled. “Yeah, I’m not known for my people skills.” His chest rattled as his laughter set off a coughing fit.

The sound pained her. “How’re you feeling, Mr. Warrick?”

“Like shit, but that’s the way it goes.” He paused. “Look, we don’t know each other, but my boy’s a mess. If you two can’t fix this, I might have to off him just to give myself some peace during my last days on this earth.”

Claire had no idea what to say. His words sent hope burbling up from her toes, straightening her spine and energizing her weary body. Jake missed her. What other explanation was there? “Mr. Warrick…” Excited possibilities swirled around in her head, but no more words came. The silence grew as static crackled though the line.

“Yeah, well, I’ve said my piece.” He cleared his throat. “So think about what I’ve said. Goodbye.”

Staring down at the silent phone, uncertainty floated in her chest. She loved him, but was that enough? He’d walked away so easily from her.

Questions she couldn’t answer rocketed around her head as she hung up the phone. No matter what she did, she risked heartbreak, but only one choice came with big rewards.

Claire pivoted to face her mom. “That was Jake’s dad. He said Jake is a wreck.”

“Of course he is. There’s something about falling for a Layton that will really throw you for a loop, make you rethink your life.” Glenda covered the casserole dish in plastic wrap and slid it into the refrigerator.

Curiosity piqued, Claire walked back to the island. Her parents had had the perfect romance, from the stories her mom used to tell after one too many eggnogs on their Christmas Eve wedding anniversary. “But, you’ve always said it was love at first sight.”

“That doesn’t mean it was all smooth sailing.” Glenda leaned against the refrigerator, a soft smile curving her lips. “I was about to graduate college and become the next Barbara Walters when I met him. We were waiting for the Greyhound bus to go home from school for the Christmas holiday. I noticed him standing in line at the ticket window. He was so tall, with honey-brown hair.”

The man in question, now with hardly any hair, whooped and clapped in the living room. The game must be going well.

“Well, it was a long, boring ride, and I figured a cute boy would liven it up. I finagled it so we’d sit next to each other. Eight hours later, I knew I was not going to be the next Barbara Walters. I was going to be the next Mrs. Layton.”

“Just like that you gave up your dream? Don’t you regret that?”

Her mom sat down on the stool next to Claire. A dreamy look of nostalgia eased away the deep grooves in her forehead. A small smile tugged at the corners of her pink lips. “I didn’t give up anything. I gained everything.”

“But…” Claire’s words evaporated when her mother shook her head.

“It may not have been New York, but I sat behind the WOMD news desk for twenty years. I loved that job until the day I retired. In place of a big city, I got your father, your brothers, you and a lifetime of happy memories.”

Glenda slapped her palms on the island, pushed herself up from the stool and exhaled a deep breath. “What you think you want from life isn’t always what you really need. You just have to be smart enough to figure out the difference between a Brett and a Jake.” She swiped Claire’s empty bowl from the island and carried it to the sink. “The question is, do you have the gumption to get your stinky self into the shower and then go track down that fella?”

Claire gazed out her kitchen window at the empty spot where Jake had parked his SUV the night of the storm. Stubbornly, she’d fought against it, but she’d known that night. Just like it had happened with her parents, something had clicked into place when she met Jake. She could trust him with her life and her heart.

Jumping down from the stool, she dashed across the kitchen to the sink and sidled up behind her mother, wrapping her arms around her in a bear hug. “Thanks, Mom.”

Her mom shimmied out of her grasp. “You’re welcome. Now go take that shower before I keel over.”

The yellow low-gas light blinked to life on Jake’s dashboard as he pulled into the convenience store. He’d cut it closer than he’d have liked, but he’d been in such a hurry to hit the road, he hadn’t filled up the tank before leaving Denver.

The phone on the black leather passenger seat began vibrating as he turned off the engine. Scooping it up, he saw the old man’s cellphone number on the caller ID. “So what’s the word?”

He held his breath. His whole plan rested on surprising Claire and catching her off guard. He feared she wouldn’t answer the door if she knew he was on the other side.

“Hello to you too.” The old man paused. “She’s home. Told her you were as surly as a mean drunk on a four-day bender.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what you get when you ask me to act as an intermediary. You want soft and lovely, find someone else,” he rasped. “You want the truth, you come to me. And you’ve been a pain in the ass.”

Shaking his head, Jake smiled despite himself. “Thanks for making the call. I’m sorry, Dad, I know the timing of this is all wrong…” What type of son would leave his father after he’d just gotten out of the hospital? “Maybe it can wait.”

“Only if you want me to crack you upside the head with my oxygen tank,” the old man grumbled. “Oh hell, I’ll still be dying tomorrow, but I can’t promise that girl will be willing to give you another chance tomorrow. You’ve got today.”

A tank full of gas later, Jake got back on the road. He had a forty-minute drive to figure out how to make Claire take him back.

Claire swiped her pruney fingers across the bathroom mirror, clearing away the steam that had fogged it up. She’d taken longer than she’d wanted, but then again, she’d had three days’ worth of pity party to scrub away. Inhaling the vanilla scent of her body butter, she quickly rubbed it into her smooth legs, eager to finish and get to Denver. Squeezing the extra wet out of her hair, she decided to let it air dry a bit before blowing it dry.

After making sure the fluffy white towel was secured in place around her body, she stepped out into the hallway. Onion lounged in the middle of the hall, a paw peddling the air as he slept in the too quiet house.

Claire peeked around the corner. Her dad wasn’t asleep on the couch. The television wasn’t on. “Mom. Dad. You here?”

Walking over to the bay window to check for their car, she spotted a note on the coffee table.
Bingo night. Drive safe. Love, Mom and Dad.
She let the note fall back to the table and turned to get dressed. A knock at the door stopped her. Mom must have forgotten her lucky bingo markers.

A smart remark about bingo addiction ready on the tip of her tongue, she yanked opened the door. Her heart stopped.

Jake glowered at her from the front porch.

C
laire’s breath caught and her heart went into overdrive. Coiled tension rolled off of his hard body in waves that crashed over her exposed skin. Knees weakened, she leaned her shoulder against the door, its plywood covering scratching her shoulder. Neither said a word as the air sizzled around them.

Something she couldn’t pinpoint simmered in his slate-blue eyes as he tugged on the edge of his wrinkled blue T-shirt. It looked as if he’d slept in the cotton shirt that was partly tucked into the waistband of his snug jeans. He shoved his hands into his pockets and locked his gaze on her.

“You’re stubborn, pushy and impulsive. I have a life of my own in Denver. It’s a good life.” Despite his quiet tone, the low timbre of his voice hinted at his frustration. He closed the distance between them until his heat seeped through her towel. “I didn’t want to want you.”

His harsh words punched a hole in her heart. Closing her eyes, she bit down on her bottom lip and fought the tears pooling behind her lids. If it wasn’t for the door holding her up, she would have sunk into a puddle on the floor. A hand under her chin tilted her face upward, sending unwanted sexual sparks through her body.

“Open your eyes, Claire.” His warm breath whispered across the sensitive skin of her ear. “Look at me. Please.”

Warmth fled from her skin when he stepped back. She gathered her strength. Best to just get it over with and get him out of here. She’d be damned if she’d let him see how much his admission hurt.

Bracing herself for the devastation ahead, she opened her eyes. Hope was the last thing she expected to see in his gaze.

“The past week and a half without you has been hell. When I came to Dry Creek, I didn’t want to want you. But I was a real dumbass for thinking that.” Running a hand through his disheveled black hair, Jake sighed. “You’re everything I need.” His voice broke and he gulped before going on. “I love you, Claire Layton, and I’m not going anywhere, so you’d better get used to it.”

He loved her. He. Loved. Her. Mounting exhilaration buzzed inside her with such force, she wouldn’t have been surprised to see sparks fly out of her fingertips. “And you think I’m pushy?”

Laughter erased his worry lines. A devilish smirk curled his lips and he tweaked her on the nose. “I think you’re amazing.” Squeezing two fingers into the top of the towel wrapped around her body, he tugged her closer. “I think you’re beautiful.” With a quick yank, he whipped the white cotton away. “I think you need to tell me you love me.”

A warm summer breeze tickled her bare skin. Jake’s big hands curved around her willing body and kneaded her ass, sending jolts of pleasure up her spine, making it hard to formulate a witty comeback. Her nipples pebbled against the soft cotton of his T-shirt as she realized she didn’t need one. This was right. They were right together. “I love you. Now take me inside unless you plan on having sex on my front porch in full view of the cornstalks.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He scooped her up in his arms and strode through the house, deftly negotiating around Onion, still asleep in the hall.

Sneaking her hands under his shirt, she reveled in his taut abs twitching under her palms. Want overwhelmed her. This man was hers. To touch. To lick. To fuck. To love. So lost was she in her exploration, she didn’t realize they were in her bedroom until Jake tossed her onto the freshly made bed. Easing herself up onto her elbows, she licked her lips as Jake peeled off his T-shirt.

Curling forward until she sat up, Claire ran her tongue across his stomach. The warm musk of his cologne enveloped her as she leaned back to focus on his low-slung jeans. Busy with his zipper, her gaze followed her fingers as she inched it lower. Realizing he’d gone commando ratcheted up her need; her clit strained with each tantalizing glimpse of springy, jet-black curls.

His cock sprang from confinement as she pushed his jeans over his lean hips, tempting her with the nearness of its engorged head. A frisson of anticipation skittered across her tender skin.

Jake’s fingers tenderly twisted the hair at the nape of her neck. “Me first.”

Gently, he nudged her onto her back then released her hair. Capturing her wrists in one hand, he stretched her arms above her head as far as they would go.

The position forced her breasts to jut upward, the twin peaks exposed and begging to be touched. Nearly undone by the anticipation, a desperate moan escaped her yearning body.

He lowered his hot mouth and stroked them with his tongue, sending fire sizzling through her body. His teasing fingers circled her wet pussy as he continued his soft assault on her tingling nipples.

Back arched, her entire body pleaded for a harder touch on her clit. Needing to hold onto something solid, she twisted the comforter in her hands. “Please, Jake.”

He chuckled into the valley between her breasts, his warm breath tickling her tensed nerves there. “What’s wrong?” He punctuated his question by grazing the distended peach nipple with his teeth.

“More.”

“More what?” He slowed his stroking fingers until it seemed her pussy would collapse with want. “Tell me what you want more of, Claire.”

Pleasure ricocheted across her body, from the stretch of her arms to the yearning ache in her core. “Touch my clit, rub it harder.”