Long Gone Girl (8 page)

Undoubtedly, she was still recovering from
the death of her husband. If she needed more time, he’d give it to
her. But his gut told him it wasn’t only that.

During dinner, he hadn’t been able to draw
her into conversation about her future plans. She’d been
particularly guarded about that topic. He’d gleaned that she had
plans to leave Ridgewood—but for some reason, she didn’t seem to
want to discuss them with him.

He on the other hand, had openly disclosed
his impending plans to finish up at Fort Dix where he was currently
based as a military flying instructor, and then begin a career as a
long-haul airline pilot. Within a month, he’d be flying a Pan Am
jet out of LaGuardia. Settling down to a stable, civilian life.

A life in which he wanted to get married one
day and start a family. Maybe with someone like Ginny.

But first he had to get her to agree to see
him beyond the next few minutes.

They were fast approaching the almost
deserted boardwalk and Pavilion. Above the keening of the wind and
the pounding of the breakers, Jett could just hear the jaunty
strains of a dance number being played by a big band in the nearby
dance hall. Even though he knew he was clutching at straws, he drew
Ginny into the shelter of one of the Pavilion’s stands.

She looked up at him, a puzzled frown
creasing her brow. Ignoring the knot of unease tightening inside
his chest, he held her lightly by the shoulders and summoned a
smooth smile. “I know you said you wanted to call it a night after
dinner, but I’m having such a great time. Would you consider going
dancing with me? For old time’s sake? I figure I owe you a decent
dance or two.”

Ginny tucked a flyaway curl behind her ear
and looked past him down the boardwalk in the direction of her
boarding house. She shook her head. “Gee, I don’t know, Jett. I’m
not exactly dressed for it either. Somehow I don’t think they’d let
me through the door in Capri pants and loafers.”

Jett thought she looked damn fine just the
way she was, but even he knew that fashion etiquette dictated she
should wear a dress or skirt for an evening of dancing. And he
needed to be in something smarter than jeans and a T-shirt. “How
about we do what we did at lunch then? I’ll meet you back here in
half an hour? Would that give you enough time to change?”

Hell, he knew he sounded pathetic but he
didn’t know what else to do. And as much as he wanted to, somehow
he didn’t think kissing her senseless like he did this morning
would score him any points either.

In the uncertain light cast by a nearby
lamppost, he saw Ginny’s mouth curve in a sad, wistful smile and
again she shook her head. “Thanks for the offer, but I really
should say good—”

“Hey, listen.” Jett knew he was being rude
cutting her off, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
“The band’s playing ‘Moonlight Serenade’.” He caught her hand,
linking his fingers through hers. “Although I was dancing to this
with Loretta at the Prom, did you know I really wanted to be
dancing with you?” He dared to tip her chin up so she couldn’t
escape his gaze. “At the risk of having a scalpel drawn on me,
would you do me the untold honor of dancing with me now?”

Ginny’s tongue flickered out to run along
her lower lip. A nervous gesture that matched the quickening of her
breathing. If there had been more light, he was sure he would have
seen her blushing too. But she didn’t look away.

“Here?
Right
now?” she asked, her
voice more than a little husky.

Gotcha
. He smiled slowly as he drew
her into his arms. “Sure. Why not?”

***

Why not?

There were at least a dozen good reasons why
not, but for the life of her, Ginny couldn’t bring herself to utter
a single one. Her breath caught in her chest and her pulse started
to race as Jett pulled her closer into his warm, hard body then
began to effortlessly guide her in a slow foxtrot around this
quiet, dimly lit, corner of the Pavilion. Memories of their dance
long ago immediately flooded her mind and panic zipped around
inside her belly. To say this was ill-advised was an
understatement. More like flat-out crazy.

It’s only a dance, Ginny. He’s pretty much
assured you he won’t try anything unless you want it. Let go for a
few minutes.

With a sigh, she closed her eyes and made
herself relax into Jett’s hold, at last allowing herself to enjoy
the feel of his hand splayed across the small of her back, the
enveloping strength of his arms, the press of his thighs against
hers. The hardness of bone and taut muscles beneath her hand upon
his shoulder. The intoxicating, maleness of him.

Whoa
. She tensed up again, fighting
the impulse to press her body hard up against his, to rest her
cheek upon his chest. The issue was, and had always been, that a
few minutes in Jett’s arms wouldn’t be enough. Perhaps she could
trust him to behave tonight, but she seriously doubted she could
trust herself. She opened her eyes and pulled away from him a
little, struggling for control; focused her gaze over Jett’s
shoulder on the crashing surf beyond the boardwalk.

Jett immediately noticed the change in her
posture. He slowed the pace of his steps and she could feel the
weight of his gaze upon her face. But she couldn’t meet his eyes.
The intimacy of the moment suddenly felt too much.

A hot, telling blush scalded her cheeks. She
should go. But her reckless body wouldn’t obey.

“Ginny?” He stopped at the edge of the
Pavilion and cupped her flushed cheek, tilting her face towards his
so she couldn’t avoid him. His gaze searched hers then dropped to
her mouth.

Oh my
. Her hand flexed tightly around
his shoulder. He was going to kiss her. She knew it. And she
couldn’t say no. Didn’t want to say no. But then why fight the
inevitable anyway? Hadn’t they been headed straight towards this
moment all day? Her heart pounded so loudly she could hear it in
her own ears, above the roar of the wind and waves.

His gaze, hot and hungry, captured hers
again. “Is a goodnight kiss a sanctioned—”

“Jett honey. Fancy meeting you here!”

Ginny stiffened and Jett swore under his
breath.
Jett honey?
Who the hell was calling Jett,
honey?

She pulled away from Jett’s arms and turned
around. Suspicion as sharp as the wind whipping around them sliced
through her. Mincing towards them in stockinged feet with a pair of
sling-backs dangling from her hand was a young, raven-haired woman.
A stunning, expensively dressed young woman. Even though this
section of the boardwalk was poorly lit, and the wind was tearing
at the woman’s skirts, it was plain to see that her dark, blood-red
dress was perfectly cut to suit her perky young figure. A designer
gown.

Trailing behind the woman by a good ten
yards was a clean-cut young man, in suit and tie. They’d obviously
emerged from the dance hall. “Hey, Dana,” he called. “Wait up.”

Dana?

Ginny glanced at Jett’s face. He was
practically glowering at the woman as she drew closer then stopped
in front of them. Whoever Dana was, he was not happy to see
her.

Dana’s gaze briefly flickered over Ginny
before returning to Jett. “Ah, so you did get her to go on a date
with you, Jett. Good for you. Glad to see your trip to the shore
wasn’t a complete wash-out.” She giggled then gestured clumsily at
the young man who’d just reached her side. “I found someone else
too.” She squinted up at her decidedly uncomfortable looking
companion. “Whatsh ya name again?”

The young man—he didn’t look any older than
twenty-one—blushed. “Larry…Come on, Dana. Let’s go get a coffee
somewhere.”

Ginny’s gaze narrowed, her suspicion
sharpening further. Dana clearly knew Jett. But how on earth did
this girl know about her own involvement with him? And what did she
mean by her comment that she’d found someone else also?

Jett’s expression was wooden, his eyes as
cold as the Atlantic as they settled on Dana. “Have you been
drinking?” His gaze transferred to the awkward looking Larry. “You
realize she’s only twenty.”

Dana hiccoughed then scowled. “So what if
I’ve been drinking?” She took a step closer to Jett and poked him
in the chest. “You’re not the boss of me, Mr.
Lead-a-girl-on-then-dump-her-when-someone-better-shows-up.” She
turned her head and focused on Ginny. At these close quarters,
Ginny could see that the young woman’s heavy red lipstick was
smeared and she could smell the alcohol on her breath.

“Be careful with that one.” Dana waved her
shoes at Jett. “He changes women as easily as he changes his
shirts.”

“What do you mean?” Ginny’s voice was tight
and she suddenly felt sick. Somehow she knew what Dana’s answer
would be, but she had to ask.

Dana pushed her wind-blown curls out of her
eyes and gave Ginny an exaggerated wink. “I was his date this
morning, honey, but I guess he thought you were the easier—whoops
better—option. Good luck!” She hiccoughed again then patted Larry
on the arm. “Come on, Leo. Let’s go.” She turned away and took a
few swaying steps back towards the dance hall. “I want more
champagne.”

Jett shook his head and let out a heavy
sigh. “You look like a decent enough fellow, Larry. Make sure you
get her that coffee.”

Larry swallowed nervously and nodded. “Yes,
sir.” Then he turned to hurry after Dana.
Jett’s other
date.

God, I’m a fool.
Bitter
disappointment and anger—at herself and Jett—roiled together with
the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. When would she learn
that Jett would always be a lying, two-timing, heart-breaking
asshole? She hoisted her purse higher onto her shoulder and took a
step away from him. Well, no more. She was done with him.

“Ginny.” Jett closed the gap between them
and for a moment he looked like he would reach for her but when she
took another step away, he appeared to think better of it. He
dropped his hands. “All those things Dana said…that’s not how it
happened this morning.”

Ginny hardened her gaze. “Why should I
believe you? You didn’t even have the decency to tell me you came
here on a date with someone else,” she accused, her voice shaking
with barely controlled hurt and anger. “So I guess when things fell
through with Dana, you thought I’d be a great substitute for your
dirty weekend at The Beacon, is that right? I’m the back-up
plan?”

Jett’s brow creased into a deep frown. “No,
Ginny. Of course you’re not. That’s not—”

Ginny raised her hand. “Don’t.” She shook
her head and swallowed past the tight ache gathering in her throat.
“Just forget it. I don’t want to hear it. Good night, Jett. No, I
mean good-bye.” She turned abruptly and strode away, just as the
first of her tears and another heavy shower of rain began to
fall.

***

Shit
. Jett raked a hand down his face, the
sudden deluge blurring his vision to the extent he could barely
make out Ginny’s slender form storming away from him.

He couldn’t believe it. Shot down by Miss
Socialite.

What the fuck was he going to do now? Hell,
he didn’t even know where Ginny was staying. Cold despair gripped
his chest. There was no way he could let it end like this.

“Ginny…” Heart thundering, he chased after
her through the icy sheets of driving rain. “Ginny wait…” He caught
up to her, grabbed her arm, swung her round to face him. “Don’t
go.”

Ginny shook him off. In the misty halo of
light cast by a nearby lamppost, he could see she was
shivering—whether from cold or bristling rage he couldn’t be sure.
Perhaps both.

“Leave me be, Jett Kelly,” she cried, her
voice catching. “The game’s up. You lost.”

“Christ, Ginny.” He had to shout to be heard
over the sound of the rain pummeling down upon them and the roar of
the surf and wind. It was like being in the middle of a hurricane.
“This business with Dana is not what you think. She told me to get
lost when I went to pick her up from her parent’s home in The
Palisades this morning. And I have no idea why, but she followed me
here. She means nothing to me. But you...”
You mean
everything
. He couldn’t say the words. Not yet. She wouldn’t
believe him.

Ginny bit her trembling lower lip, clearly
uncertain. Pushing a snarl of streaming hair out of her eyes, she
blinked away raindrops and perhaps tears, but she didn’t look
away.

Thank God
. Hope surged. His heart
practically jamming his throat, Jett reached out and trapped one of
her hands in his. Pulled her close, then captured her beautiful
face between both hands. “I lost the chance to be with you nine
years ago, Ginny. I’ll be damned if I lose it again.”

Then before she could do or say another
thing, he kissed her. Claimed her mouth. Plunged his tongue inside
her, stroking deeply, possessing her, giving her no respite from
his overwhelming desire to make her his own, even if it was only
this one time. Ginny clutched at his shoulders, her hands fisting
into his sodden T-shirt as she sagged against him. A deep moan
spilled from her throat and she tangled her tongue with his,
tasting him back with equal fervor. Sucked and nipped at his lower
lip. A wanton, wet, writhing creature in the rain.

A Ginny unlike any he’d ever known
before.

He loved it.

Sliding a hand down her back he then cupped
her peach-shaped arse before hauling her hips hard up against him,
so she could feel the strength of his arousal for her. Only
her.

And somehow, some way, he had to make her
see that he was the only man she’d ever need or want, or love
again.

***

Ginny wrapped her arms about Jett’s neck, clinging to
him like he was her only life-line in this wild storm assailing her
from both within and without. Sweet Lord above. What was this
frenzied, fevered madness that had overcome her? That made her push
her breasts into Jett’s chest and grind her hips against his thick
erection. Drink in his drugging kisses like she was dying of
thirst?