Authors: Kat Attalla
"Get the lead out, Callahan," she called from halfway down the path.
"You aren't ever gonna be a country girl if you keep running everywhere.
First thing you have to do is slow down. The park isn't going anywhere."
She folded her arms across her chest and let out an audible puff of air. "You're lazy."
"Maybe," he said, strolling down the path at a leisurely pace. "But I'm not the one who's stressed out at twenty-six."
"You're right." She waited for him to catch up and made a half-hearted attempt to slow down that lasted less than two minutes. She dashed in and out, and even up the trees, like a child turned loose in a candy shop. No flower went unnoticed, no rock unturned.
She studied everything, including him.
"What are you looking' at?" he asked.
"You. Is that a crime?" She scrunched her nose at him and ducked behind a tree when he reached for her. "Don't let it go to your fat head, Jake. I was just thinking that you don't look old enough to have a fifteen-year-old daughter. All that PR about milk being good for you must be true."
"Maybe I wasn't old enough or my marriage might have lasted longer."
Surprised by the regret in his voice, she came back around and rested against the tree next to him. "You didn't walk out."
"No. But I didn't see it coming, either. The only thing Libby ever talked about was getting money together and moving east. I figured it was something you talk about when you're eighteen and restless. We all did. But I grew out of it when I got married."
"Why did you get married?"
"I wanted what everyone else seemed to have. A normal family life. I thought Libby wanted the same. After the first year of marriage, I realized that she just wanted to get out of her house while causing as much embarrassment as she could for her parents. Back then, being seen with me or Trevor was guaranteed to shock any respectable adult."
"The Terrible Two?" she said, remembering Chloe's slip of the tongue.
"That's when they were being kind. Some things are impossible to live down."
Tell me about it, she thought. If those music critics who labeled her the Queen of Flash could see her now, without a stitch of makeup, darting around mud puddles, they would laugh their fool heads off. But they no more knew her than she knew herself.
"It's in the past, Jake."
"I'd like to leave it there. But every few years Libby's parents try to get the child welfare board to remand Chloe to their custody. And you couldn't believe some of the things they've come up with to accuse me of! They blame me because Libby left. What I've spent in lawyers' fees fighting to keep my own kid could have sent her to college."
"That's horrible."
"The worst part is they're destroying their relationship with Chloe. I never stopped them from visiting her, but they force her to choose sides, and every time they do, she becomes more withdrawn. I don't know what to do."
She covered his hand and squeezed it gently. "You're doing fine, Jake. She adores you."
He grinned. "At least one lady finds me irresistible."
"At least one," Kate agreed, leaving him to take it however he wished. As they continued walking along the path, Kate lapsed into a thoughtful silence that Jake respected.
His problems hit too close to home. She knew the hell of justifying her life against a pack of lies. Accusations and insinuations, not from strangers, but from the people she trusted to have the child's best interest at heart.
Jake had been very lucky to win. Most people believe the accusation, long after it's proven false. Particularly in her case, where sex, drugs, and rock and roll had always been viewed as going hand in hand. She wondered if Jake might not feel the same if he really knew what she did for a living.
* * * *
Jake put an arm around Kate’s shoulder and headed in the direction of the truck. The sky overhead threatened again, and the afternoon chores awaited his return. Besides, Kate didn't seem to have her heart in it any longer.
He thought at first that her introspection stemmed from sympathy. She liked Chloe and felt sad for what they had been through. The loneliness in her eyes and the pain that appeared to sear right through her went deeper than mere sympathy. He noticed it the day before when they drove to Clovis.
Kate wrestled with her own demons, as cruel and unforgiving as his. Perhaps even more so, for no matter how bad it got, he always had Chloe. She mentioned a sister, but he still sensed an emptiness in her. Something was missing from her life. Or someone.
He stopped next to the truck, and she glanced up, startled. "You want to talk about it?"
She smiled weakly. "Not yet."
"Feel like necking in the backseat?" He meant it as a joke and felt guilty when she took him seriously.
She crossed her arms over her chest and turned her back to him. "That's so typically male."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."
"I know. There is no backseat."
She spoke the words so sincerely that it took him a second to realize she was teasing him. Whatever had been bothering her seemed to have temporarily vanished.
* * * *
Jake opened the door and offered her a hand. "I don't understand you, Kate."
She stepped in and slid across the seat. "I don't understand me either. Sometimes I get sentimental and sappy, but it passes quickly and I'm told it's not contagious."
"It's more than that. Maybe I didn't make the best first impression, but when you want to talk about it, I can be a good listener."
He probably could be, she decided. However, she wasn't a good talker. Too many years of living with her secret had rendered her unable to open up about herself.
Feeling the need for some fresh air, she searched for the handle to roll down the window but couldn't find one. "Is there a trick to this, Jake?"
"Oh. Chloe broke it. Just a second." He leaned across her body to push the button for the glove compartment at the same time she reached for his hand.
"Never mind. Just open yours, please."
"What?"
He raised his head, and their eyes locked. If she thought she felt warm before, the temperature rose another twenty degrees. At least her body temperature did. Her feminine instinct screamed for her to back away, but her body had a will of its own and she moved closer.
His mouth brushed lightly over the top of her lips. One last shred of sanity told her to stop him, but his hand slid into her hair, bringing her head forward to meet his mouth again, with no resistance from her. The tip of his tongue teased the outside of her mouth, coaxing a response she couldn't suppress.
Alarm bells in her unconscious tried to warn her, but she closed her mind to them. The purely physical feelings allowed her to forget. They didn't require thought, only reaction to a powerful sensation.
Geography and economics flickered through her brain, but in the end, chemistry won out. She knew she shouldn't get involved with Jake, but his raw sexuality was more than she could fight. She returned his kiss with deep, hungry kisses of her own.
Winding her arms tightly around his neck, she slid into his arms, molding her body to his. The feelings awakened set her body on fire, unleashing a passion she hadn't known she possessed.
Jake lifted her across his lap and rested her back against the door. She used the more comfortable position to her full advantage, cuddling against his neck and nibbling on his earlobe.
* * *
His hand slipped boldly under her shirt, gliding up along her velvety smooth skin. Thankfully she wore only a silky camisole beneath her oversize sweatshirt, because he would have embarrassed himself trying to fumble with a bra catch.
He found the soft mound and teased the nipple, already hard with excitement. She slid lower, and pressed in until his hand covered her breast completely. Her deep moan of pleasure echoed in his mind.
She tugged at the fabric of his shirt, pulling it free of the waistband of his jeans. Her hand moved up along his waist, patiently kneading the tight muscles of his stomach and chest. Her touch scorched a line across him like a brand that was hers alone.
"Kate?" he murmured between the kisses he pressed to her lips.
"Mmm."
He wasn't sure if she was answering or expressing approval for the new position of his hand.
The last time he steamed up the back windows of his pickup, he was still in high school, promising away his future. Only Kate didn't cool him off by playing the tease and pushing him back to ask, "Do you love me?" He found himself being the first to cry uncle.
The eyes that met his were wide and shining with anticipation. Quite a turnabout from the sorrow he witnessed earlier, he thought, feeling rather pleased with himself. "Have mercy on me, Kate."
"Not until you move your hand."
His throaty chuckle covered a cough. No matter what the difference in social backgrounds, on this level at least, they related perfectly. Curled up in his lap and as frisky as a kitten with catnip, Kate was his equal.
He tenderly stroked the taut nipple again. "Is that the button that turns you on?" he asked her, feeling the involuntary shudder she tried to hide from him.
"Apparently," she stammered out, bewildered by the deep reaction she had to his touch. She arched closer and grinned mischievously as she repeated every sensual gesture, with the same results. "Is that the button that turns you on, Jake?"
"Every place you put your hand turns me on. And I'm heating up a little too fast."
Kate glanced over his shoulder at the foggy window. She traced a small heart with her finger, and giggled. "I told you to open up a window."
He didn't want to let her go, but as she began to wiggle in his arms, he knew that the intimate bond had been broken. "Later?"
"It's unavoidable," she promised, tossing back his earlier words at him.
Chapter Six
Kate rose early Sunday morning to watch another glorious sunrise. She’d spent a restless night, tossing, turning, and denying that she felt any disappointment when Jake turned down her invitation to come in the evening before. He gave her some wonderful excuses. Trevor had gone out with some friends, and he couldn't leave Chloe alone in the house. At fifteen, the girl was old enough to be alone, but Kate hadn't earned the right to judge the way Jake raised his daughter.
At exactly quarter after six, the next-door neighbors sprang into action. Laurel and Hardy were at it again. Chloe ran out the kitchen door with her hands covering her ears, but otherwise amused by the antics of the adults in her household.
She leaned over the fence, with her feet dangling in the air. "You comin'?"
Kate pulled the goose-down comforter tighter around her shoulders. "I don't think so." I'm pouting, she might as well have added.
"Why not?" Jake's deep voice startled her.
She’d been watching the kitchen door to see him leave the house so she could childishly give him her back and return to bed as if he meant nothing. Twenty minutes' worth of fantasy blown by a front-door exit on Jake's part.
As she started to get up, her feet tangled in the quilt and she stumbled forward into the porch rail. His attempt to hide his laughter embarrassed her more than if he had erupted in her face. She casually folded her arms on the rail and gazed out over the field. "I meant to do that," she announced.
"Sure you did, Kate." His clear blue eyes told her that he didn't have as much trouble sleeping as she did.
An illogical resentment burned in Kate, and she had to suppress it when Chloe came over to join them.
"How come you're not gonna feed Lollipop today?" Chloe asked.
"Lollipop?" Jake repeated.
"The new calf. Kate named it that because it likes to suck on things. You get it. Sucker, Lollipop," Chloe explained before Kate could get a word in.
"Is that so?" With one of his knowing glances and the tiniest twist to his lip, she felt the blood rush to her face. But to his credit, he knew when to stop. "Would you like to come for dinner today?"