For the Love of Pete (16 page)

But was it enough to give her the strength it would take to meet his little boy? That child, through no fault of his own, had changed her life forever. How would she react when she saw him? She knew instinctively that she would open her heart to him, and that terrified her most of all.

But as terrified as she was of being hurt again, Jo knew she had no real choice. She wanted to see that child, to get to know him, to see how much of Pete she would find in his eyes. If anguish and regrets over dreams lost came with that, so be it. That was a small enough price to pay for sharing something?someone?so important to Pete.

Even though her decision was essentially made, she kept it to herself. She didn't want to have to take her words back later if she chickened out. She could tell, though, that her silence on the subject was driving Pete just a little bit crazy. He'd promised not to push her, so he wouldn't, but every time they were together during the week, he watched her, his gaze questioning, asking all the questions he'd promised not to verbalize.

Finally, on Thursday, Jo couldn't stand the wary, surreptitious glances another second.

"Okay, yes," she said as they drank coffee and ate doughnuts at the kitchen table in what was turning into their morning ritual. It felt so damn comfortable and right, that the routine scared her, too.

Pete blinked and stared at her. "Yes?"

"Let's all do something together on Saturday. You, me and Davey."

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His eyes lit up and a smile spread across his face. It was as if she'd granted his wish or something. Perhaps if she'd realized how much it meant to him, she would have told him sooner.

"Really?" he asked. "You're sure?"

She held up a cautioning hand. "Let's not make a big commotion out of it, though, okay?"

His gaze narrowed. "Meaning?"

"We could just hook up at one of the sites, make it look accidental. You know, like it's no big deal."

He looked as if he might argue, but evidently he, too, saw the wisdom in that. "You're probably right," he said at last. "That would be best."

"Then, if you wanted, we could grab some lunch or something. Maybe a burger. Does he like hamburgers?"

"Next to pizza, they're his favorite."

"Would it be better to go for pizza, then?" she asked worriedly, wanting this meeting to go right. She knew she was placing way too much importance on it, but she couldn't seem to help herself. No matter how they played it, for her it would be a very big deal.

Pete reached across the table and put his hand on hers. "Hey, stop fussing. We're not going to place too much importance on this, remember?"

"I know. I know. I don't want to make a big production out of it for your son's sake, but for me it's different." She drew in a deep breath and steadied her resolve. "That doesn't mean it needs to be a big deal for him, though. I just want him to have a good time, do things he enjoys doing, you know?"

"You want him to like you," Pete concluded, cutting straight through to the bottom line.

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"Okay, yes," she admitted, chagrined.

Pete grinned at her. "With any luck, all of this plotting every minute will be wasted, anyway."

"Why?" she asked in alarm, fearing that her already out-of-control hopes were about to be dashed. "Do you think he might not come?"

"Oh, he's coming," Pete said, his expression filled with grim determination. "But there's snow in the forecast for Friday night. Quite possibly, we'll be able to spend Saturday sledding and building snowmen." He winked at her. "Then I can send the kid to bed and you and I can get all cozy in front of a fire."

The prospect sounded so inviting, she forced herself to put up at least a token protest. "I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"With your son in the house?" she asked, her tone chiding.

He gave her a piercing look, as if he'd read something into the comment she hadn't intended. "What about after he goes home?" he asked. "Can we get cozy then?"

She met his gaze and made a decision that had been a long time coming, even though it had been inevitable. "I'd have to say that's a definite maybe."

"Not as much conviction as I'd like to hear, but I'll take it as a positive sign," he said. "Now I can hardly wait to take the kid home. What kind of father does that make me?"

"A human one," she said. "And maybe it's something you need to remember when your ex-wife doesn't stop to think. She's only human, too."

"The difference is that I would never leave Davey on

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his own, no matter how desperate I was to be with someone else."

Jo slid out of her chair and walked around to the other side of the table. Impulsively, she slipped onto Pete's lap and cupped his face in her hands. "I know. That's what makes you amazing."

Heat immediately blazed in his eyes. "And I thought all along it was my hard muscles you liked."

"Nope. Your tender heart," she told him, tapping on his chest.

"You know," he said quietly, "Davey's not here now."

She met his gaze, her heart in her throat. "I know, but there's no snow on the ground, either."

"Do you think that's entirely necessary?"

Her heart tumbled to her toes as an old and wonderfully familiar desire nearly overwhelmed her. "Now that you mention it, I don't think it's necessary at all."

In the back of his mind, Pete had been imagining this moment for days now, maybe even weeks. Maybe forever. Now that it was here, he could hardly believe it was real. He stroked a finger along Jo's cheek just to reassure himself it wasn't a dream.

"Nope," he murmured. "Definitely real."

"Make love to me," she said, her hand on his cheek. "That ought to convince you I'm very real."

He knew he should keep his questions to himself and accept this precious gift, but he couldn't seem to stop himself from asking, "Why now?"

Her lips curved. "Why not now? Are you going to talk this to death? I thought men were the impulsive, spontaneous ones when it came to sex."

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Pete knew he had to be candid with her. As desperately as he wanted this, he didn't want to make a mistake they'd both regret. "It's been a very long time, Jo. A lot's happened between us. If I take you upstairs now, if I make love to you, it's not going to be the start of some casual fling. It's going to mean something."

She swallowed hard. "Please don't say that," she said, her gaze pleading.

"I have to say it. You need to understand where my head is. I'm not saying you have to be in the same place, but you need to know how I feel." He looked into her eyes. "I guess, in a way, I'm giving you the power to hurt me, because I'm telling you that my heart's on the line. You'll be able to get even with me for what I did," he said. "Or you can love me back."

To his dismay, a tear spilled down her cheek. "Dammit, Pete. Don't you know how I feel? I do love you. I don't want to, but I do."

He chuckled despite her obvious distress. "Now there's a declaration guaranteed to make a man's heart sing."

She nudged him in the stomach with her elbow. "Don't joke about this."

"I know, darlin'. It's not a laughing matter."

"No, it's not."

He looked into her eyes. "Does that mean we're not messing around?"

Her lips twitched, then broke into a wide smile, the kind of smile that had once twisted his heart into knots.

"Think you can beat me up those stairs?" she taunted, already out of his lap and heading for the doorway.

Laughing, Pete caught up with her in two strides and

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scooped her into his arms. "How about we get there together?" he said as he took the stairs two at a time.

"I think I'm beginning to admire those muscles more than I did before," she said as he carried her without hesitation into the right bedroom. "How'd you know which room I'd be in?"

"I stood outside under your window often enough when I was a lovesick twenty-year-old. I know which room is yours." He glanced around. "I've just never had a chance to see it from the inside before."

It was a girly room with lots of pale pink and soft green in the flowery materials of the comforter on the old iron bed. The bed was piled with lace-trimmed pillows. There was a dark burgundy stripe in the cream wallpaper that somehow tied it all together and made it just right for the sexy woman she'd become.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled her into the V between his thighs. Holding her loosely, he gave the mattress a test bounce, then grinned. "Good. No squeaks."

"Even if there were, there's no one in the house to hear them," she said. "Do you realize we've never actually made love in a bed before?"

Pete frowned at that. It was true. They'd had to steal their moments to be together and be inventive about their privacy. He pulled her closer. "Then I think it's way past time to change that, don't you?"

"I don't know," she said. "I thought there was something awfully exciting and special about trying not to get caught."

"Ah, so it was the thrill that got to you back then," he teased. "It had nothing to do with me. In that case,

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let me run downstairs, unlock the front door and make a call to your sisters. Knowing they could turn up at any second could add a little spice to the afternoon."

"Heaven forbid," Jo said fervently. "They can't know-about this."

Pete's heart thumped unsteadily at the implication. "Why not?"

"For your protection," she said at once.

"My protection?" he echoed, stunned. "Why on earth do you need to protect me?"

She grinned at him. "Let's think about this. We're talking about three overly protective big sisters, who've just recently gone from whirlwind courtships into marriage. Can you connect the dots yet?"

Pete saw her point, but he wasn't nearly as terrified by the outcome as she apparently was. "Think they'll try to push us into walking down the aisle?"

"1 know they will," she confirmed.

"Maybe that's not such a bad thing. It's what should have happened seven years ago," he said.

"No," she said fiercely. "That was clearly the wrong time for us. Either you would never have had your son or he would have been born without a father. Can you honestly say either of those would have been for the best?"

"No," he admitted. As much as he regretted the way things had turned out for him and Jo, he could never regret having Davey. He tunneled his fingers into her hair and looked deep into her eyes. "Do you have any idea how amazingly generous you are?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you. You're thoughtful and smart and sexy, too."

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"All those things?" she said, clearly pleased. "I am amazing. Maybe I'm too good for the likes of you."

"You are," he said at once. "Which makes me the luckiest man on the face of the earth since you're here with me now."

Jo lowered her face until her lips were almost on his. "Then let's take advantage of your luck," she whispered right before her mouth settled against his.

Pete felt his pulse jolt, then scramble. His blood shot straight from his brain to another part of his anatomy. He still had just enough sense left to remind himself to go slow, to savor this moment, to savor her.

He took that soft, sweet kiss and turned it into something greedy and primal. Jo turned restless, her body seeking his, rubbing against hardness and heat and need in a way that almost had him bolting off the bed.

"Slow down, darlin'," he whispered against her fantastically seductive mouth.

In response, she took his hand and slid it up under her sweater until it met flesh and lace. She was so hot, so soft, Pete wanted to bury his face between her breasts, wanted to stroke his tongue over the hard, sensitive peaks until she was moaning with pleasure.

But not just yet, he told himself. He wouldn't rush her or himself. He'd waited seven years for this. He could wait a little longer, make sure that she knew what a treasure she was, what pleasure she was capable of giving and receiving. He'd been too impatient at twenty. He'd loved her then, but not well?not with a man's patience and desire.

He did, however, strip away that soft sweater so he could gaze at her full breasts and the surprising black

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lace bra that was such a contrast to the innocence of the plain white garment she'd worn all those years ago. Sexy as this was, he almost regretted the change, or maybe what he really regretted was the loss of innocence. It was something he'd taken and could never give back.

He skimmed a finger across the lace, smiled as she trembled. "Fancy," he said, grinning.

"When I turned twenty-one, my sisters thought it was time to upgrade my lingerie wardrobe." She winked at him. "Wait till you see the pitiful excuse for panties I'm wearing."

Pete moaned. "Don't tell me that. I'm trying to cling to some control here."

"Why?"

"Because you deserve to be properly seduced."

"And you can't do that if I start talking about my skimpy little lace thong?"

He covered his ears. "No, I cannot."

"It's black, too."

Pete groaned.

She grinned. "Good to know just how to rattle you," she said, reaching for the zipper on her jeans and slowly sliding it down.

Pete tried not to look, because he knew he'd be lost. Slow and sweet would be out of the question if those panties were half as sexy as she'd implied.

One glimpse of black lace and he nearly swallowed his tongue. There was barely enough there to cover...well, anything. He finally tore his gaze away and met her eyes.

"I warned you," he whispered, scooping her up and

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settling her on the bed. He reached for her jeans and yanked them down and off with one smooth motion, then turned all his attention to that skimpy little bit of fabric.

He cupped her, rubbing fabric against the sensitive bud that was already hard, then slipped two fingers over flesh and deep into moist heat. She convulsed around him, her hips lifting off the bed. A ragged moan tore from her throat.