Fortune Found (9 page)

But his fingertips were in her hair, his palm followed the curve of her jaw, and the scent of his cologne went right to her head. And in the backdrop of moonlight his dark handsomeness was all the more stark.

So when he leaned in, when his mouth first pressed to hers, all those reasons fled, her eyes closed, and she just gave herself over to that kiss that she'd been wishing for since the moment the last one had ended.

This kiss was different though. Flint's lips lingered, parting over hers, beckoning hers to part, too. And when his big hand caressed her face and pulled her closer, that kiss grew deeper and deeper.

On its own, her hand rose to his chest, feeling the hardness of honed muscle that his white T-shirt hinted at, and Jessie immersed herself for a moment in the feel of him as he went on kissing her so soundly that she couldn't think about anything else.

His other arm went around her, pulling her nearer with a hand splayed against her back. Even as she was drawn in by his strengths, she considered that she was alone in a dark, somewhat secluded place with him. Kissing him, letting him kiss her. Giving signs of encouragement that she knew shouldn't be given….

Maybe there was something in her response that sent that message, because he suddenly took his arm away and gave her more breathing room. It was only a moment
before he brought it to an end, before they were merely standing there in the moonlight again, his hand still on her cheek.

“Early day tomorrow,” he said, belatedly parroting her words.

Jessie nodded, her lips still tingling from that kiss. That kiss that—even though she'd initiated ending it—she wished he would start all over again.

But he slowly drew his hand from her cheek, stopping before he'd abandoned it completely to cup her chin, tilt it upward once more, and kiss her again, more gently this time.

Then he stepped through the door, waiting outside for her to follow.

Which she did—a split second after winning a battle with her inclination to yank him back into the studio for more kissing.

“I'll go through the gate,” Flint said as Jessie set off for her house.

She paused when she realized he wasn't going with her, that he was pointing to the gate that connected her yard and Kelsey's.

“Okay. Then I'll just see you tomorrow,” she said.

“Bright and early,” Flint confirmed as he aimed for the fence.

Jessie went the rest of the way to her house, glancing over her shoulder as she opened the screen door to see Flint headed for her sister's place—tall, straight-backed and broad-shouldered.

And she was wishing with a horrible ferocity that he'd walked her to her door and kissed her at least once more, which was when she knew that she definitely had a crush on the man.

A crush that she needed to squelch.

But that wasn't shaping up to be an easy task.

Not when it seemed resilient enough to even grow under the onslaught of her widow's guilt, her devotion to her kids and the sure and certain knowledge that there was no future for a mother of four with a man like Flint.

O
n Saturday morning. Jessie went to her sister's house at 7:00 a.m. sharp. While Flint, Coop and eventually Jessie's father finished construction details and cleanup, Jessie, Kelsey, the kids and Jeannie cleaned, vacuumed, hung curtains and pictures and arranged furniture before using the evening to get things set up for Sunday's housewarming party.

At about nine o'clock that evening Flint's services were no longer needed and when Coop let him off the hook from party preparations, Flint went upstairs to shower. By the time he was finished, Kelsey had suggested that Jessie take her four very tired kids home and call it a day, too. Jeannie and Jack assured Jessie that they would stay and help Kelsey and Coop, encouraging Jessie to go.

And when Flint offered his help in taking the kids
home and putting them to bed…? Adam literally jumped for joy, Bethany and Braden chimed in with their approval, all four other adults enthusiastically supported the idea, and Jessie was too worn-out to argue.

Not that she had any inclination to, despite the fact that she knew she should. The day had been so busy that she and Flint had barely crossed paths or exchanged glances, and while that should have been just fine, she somehow felt cheated. No amount of reasoning with herself changed that; and while his assistance in putting four kids to bed was still not exactly the sort of togetherness she had in mind, she wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to have even a few more minutes with him.

So off they went to Jessie's house, as she tried not to think that any outsider looking in might have thought that they were a family.

She didn't typically give the kids communal baths, but because it was long past their bedtimes and she was beat, she dispatched the boys to one tub and the girls to the other. Flint kept an eye on the boys, while Jessie ran between bathrooms to actually oversee and aid the bathing.

Flint cleaned out the tubs while Jessie tidied up after the kids.

Then he made a suggestion.

“I can crack the whip with the teeth brushing and read the bedtime story. Why don't you go shower?”

“Do I look that bad?” she joked. She knew that she did look the worse for wear, that her hair was stringy, the light makeup she'd applied that morning was long gone and her clothes were smudged and dirty.

Flint just grinned in response.

Of course there was the possibility that he had come home with her solely to help with the kids and would disappear the minute those services were rendered. Jessie couldn't blame him if he did, because he had also worked like a dog all day and evening. And while his shower had washed away the grime and left his hair slightly damp, and he'd put on a clean pair of jeans and a plain white T-shirt, he hadn't gone so far as to shave the dark shadow of beard that had reappeared as the day and evening had worn on, which seemed like a dead giveaway that he didn't have too much energy left either.

But if there was any chance that he might stick around, that she might have even a few minutes alone with him before her parents returned, Jessie didn't want to spend those few minutes grubby herself.

So in regard to his offer to finish the final steps to getting the kids to bed while she showered, she said, “You're sure?”

He looked her up and down, laughed and said jokingly, “Oh yeah, I'm sure.”

Jessie made a face and threw a wet washcloth at him.

He caught it. “Go on before any of that dirt sticks.”

Jessie dispatched Ella to help Adam brush his teeth, promised she'd be only a few minutes and would still tuck them all in, and made a beeline for the shower in the bathroom connected to her bedroom, shedding clothes the minute she was behind her closed door.

She took the fastest shower she could and did the quickest shampoo, too. But not merely to make sure she could say good-night to her children. She knew her parents wouldn't be at Kelsey's house for too much longer
and if she was going to get any time at all alone with Flint, she had to hurry.

Lecturing herself all the while about the lack of wisdom in giving in to her whims when it came to this man, she nevertheless toweled herself off, flipped her head upside down to give her hair five minutes of blow-drying, brushed on just enough blush to camouflage her fatigue, did a swipe of mascara to each eye and pulled on a hoodie that she left unzipped just half an inch lower than usual and the yoga pants that she knew cupped her rear end to perfection but would still make it look as if she'd just thrown something on.

Then, with one quick glance at herself in the mirror, with too many vivid memories of last night's kisses still swirling in her brain, she rejoined the group.

 

“And that was when Ella the Magnificent, Bethany the Bold, Braden the Brave and Atomic Adam saved all the baby bears and brought them home to their family.”

“We did it! That wuz us's!” Adam shouted, jumping up and down on the foot of Braden's bed where Adam, Braden and Bethany were gathered around Flint. Ella looked on from more of a distance, perched on Adam's bed on the other side of the nightstand that separated the matching twin-size beds.

From the doorway, Jessie watched her oldest daughter go from being spellbound by whatever story Flint had just told back to a show of disdain for how enthralled her brothers and sister were.

“It was just a story,” Ella insisted to Adam.

“It was a good one!” Braden said.

“I liked that I was pretty.” Bethany giggled. “And you were pretty, too, El!”

Jessie watched her oldest poke her chin in the air as if that meant nothing to her, but it was clear that Ella was as delighted as Bethany by whatever characterization Flint had bestowed upon her.

It might not be happening with any kind of speed, but Jessie thought that Flint was slowly inching into Ella's good graces. Very slowly, dragged down by Ella's reluctance to let it happen, but inching nonetheless.

Adam was still jumping on the bed, so Jessie went the rest of the way into the bedroom. “You know better than to jump on the bed, Adam,” she scolded.

“I'm 'tomic Adam!” Adam corrected. “I can shoot arrows outta my fumbs!” Two thumbs-up seemed to prove that, but the three-year-old did stop jumping on the bed.

“I can turn everything into ice with my eyes,” Braden announced.

“I can run faster than a rocket and jump higher than big buildings and I'm not 'fraid of nothin'!” Bethany claimed.

“And Ella is like the mama wion,” Adam said in awe. “Hers fingernails can turn into big long claws and she doesn't let no bad guys hurt no good guys 'cause she per'tects ever'body!”

“Wow,” Jessie marveled, catching Adam when he leaped into her arms just as she reached the bed. “That sounds like quite a story.”

“It was the bestest!” Adam proclaimed, clearly none of his hero worship of Flint abated.

“But now you're all riled up just when it's time to
go to sleep,” Jessie said pointedly, pinning Flint with her gaze.

He grinned and said to his entourage, “What happens after a big rescue mission?”

“We're all worn-out and we need to rest, so we have to go right to bed,” Bethany seemed to quote.

“I'm ready,” Ella said as if she'd been bored to tears. “Come on, Bethany, let's go to our room.”

Jessie's house had four bedrooms. Hers was the master bedroom, her parents were in the guest bedroom, and the other two—including the one they were in—were shared by the children: boys in one, girls in the other.

Apparently the condition in the story about going to bed right after a rescue had stuck because Bethany scooted off Braden's bed on command and said, “G'night, Flint.”

“Good night, Bethany the Bold. Sleep tight.”

As Ella led her sister out of the room she obviously had no intention of saying anything to Flint, so Jessie said, “Ella, what do you say?”

“'Night,” she grumbled.

“'Night, Ella,” Flint responded as if the seven-year-old had been perfectly gracious.

“I'll be in in a minute,” Jessie called after them. Then she lay Adam down on his mattress.

“The baws keeps me from faw'in out,” he explained as he peered at Flint through the safety bars that guarded the upper half of his mattress.

“Good idea,” Flint said, giving his approval as he got off Braden's bed so Braden could get under the covers.

“When Aunt Kelsey mayw-wees Coop,” Adam an
nounced then, “Ella and Beth'ny are gonna be the flower girls, and me and Braden's gonna be the ring barrels.”

“Bringing up a new topic—that's a stall tactic,” Jessie warned Flint when she saw him being drawn in. “And he means ring
bearers,
not
barrels.”

To Adam she said, “No more talking now. It's time to go to sleep. Tomorrow is another big day.”

“Will Fwint be there?”

“Yes, he will be. So you can see him then.”

Appeased and exhausted, Adam snatched the stuffed floppy dog he slept with and began his nightly ritual of rubbing the dog's ear against his cheek. Jessie leaned over the safety bars and kissed her youngest's forehead.

Then she tucked in Braden and kissed him as well. Like his twin, Braden bid Flint good-night without prompting.

“Two down, two to go,” Jessie said as they left the room, pulling the door halfway closed.

“But probably Ella would rather I not be in on your saying good-night to her,” Flint guessed. “I'm craving a little cool night air, though. Think you can stay awake for a while longer to join me on the porch?”

Far more delighted than she wanted to be—and all too willing to ignore how tired she was—Jessie said, “Front porch or back?”

“I'll be waiting for you on the back,” he promised.

And then he did something that Jessie thought was purely out of some kind of reflex—he ran a parting hand down her back.

It took her by surprise. It seemed to take him by surprise, too, because he pulled his hand away almost immediately.

But still the contact was inviting, hinting at a forbidden intimacy, and it sent tiny tingles up and down her spine.

It's exhaustion,
she told herself. That was what had caused him to forget himself and rub her back. That was what had allowed such a simple, short-lived thing to thrill her.

And she honestly thought both of those things were true.

But it still didn't keep her from making quick work of tucking in the girls so that she could get outside to Flint.

 

When Jessie made it to the back porch, her parents were already there, chatting with Flint, apparently having just returned from Kelsey's.

The disappointment that Jessie felt at that first realization that she and Flint were no longer alone deflated her. But after a brief exchange of small talk Jack and Jeannie admitted to their own weariness, said good-night and went inside.

And finally Jessie was alone with Flint.

He sat on the landing so one long leg could stretch down onto the grass while he bent the other at the knee. He leaned into the gap in the porch railing that accommodated the stairs. Then he patted the space in front of him—an invitation.

It didn't take more than that for Jessie to join him. Her own feet landed flat on the bottom step and she hugged her thighs, resting her head on her knees to look at Flint as he studied her with an approving, appreciative expression on his scruffily whiskered face.

“Definitely an improvement,” he said, obviously referring to the results of her own shower.

“Feels better, too,” she agreed.

For a moment then neither of them said anything and to Jessie it seemed as if they were finally winding down, relaxing. But it surprised her to realize that she could feel comfortable with silence between them. It had taken much longer for her and Pete to achieve that.

But just as she was beginning to consider how to break that silence, Flint saved her the effort.

“The murals on the kids' walls,” he said. “The cartoon cars and trucks and trains in the boys' room, and the fairies and gnomes and unicorns in that whole garden scene in the girls'—Braden said you painted those.”

“I did. Over the winter.”

Flint shook his head, his forehead beetled in what appeared to be perplexity. “You're amazing.”

“Why?”

“Because the work is amazing.”

“It's no big deal. It was just fun.”

“Okay, I headed down this road a little last night but didn't get too far, and tonight I really need to know. Not the mom, not the wife or widow, just you—”

Jessie laughed. “It's all
just
me.”

“Tell me what you were like in the pre-marriage, pre-kids days. When you were a girl. Were you always interested in art? Did you want to grow up and become an artist?”

She merely laughed again. “I always liked to draw and paint and make things, but it was just something I liked to do.”

“Well, whether you know it or not,” he decreed, “you're an artist.”

Jessie merely made a face at that notion.

“So what
did
you want to be?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Kelsey always loved animals—particularly horses—which made her more down to earth, I think. But me? I was the dreamer. The romantic. I never thought of
being
something when I grew up, which I regret. I just always pictured falling in love, getting married, having babies, a home. It was family that I saw for myself, not a career. Even though I guess that's old-fashioned.”

“And you regret it?”

She was quiet for a moment. “Regret isn't the right word. It would just be a lot more helpful now if I'd gone to college, if I had a degree, if I had put some time and energy—and thought—into having a career, too. The most I thought of in that direction was that yes, I'd probably need to work—as maybe a receptionist or in an office or a store or something that I could do full-time until I had kids. Then maybe part-time after that to just bring in a second income for the family I wanted. I knew exactly the kind of wedding I wanted to have, the kind of house. I wanted to be a good cook, have a garden. But when it came to making a living? Like I said, my plans were all tinted with romance.”