Summer Kisses (27 page)

He wondered if he and Jill would have met under different circumstances, and yet he already knew the answer. No. They were from different worlds. They hung out with different crowds and they had different interests. He’d had a string of women in his lifetime, only a few whose names he could remember. He also had many women friends. He thought Jill would fit neatly into the friend category when he first met her, but now he knew otherwise. Jill was different. She was intelligent and complicated, stubborn and caring to a fault. And cold.

“You’re shivering,” he said, stating the obvious.

Jill kept her gaze on the horizon and dismissed his statement with a wave of her hand. “You’re supposed to be watching the sunset.”

The French doors leading into the house had been left open so they would be able to hear Ryan if he woke up. Derrick disappeared inside and returned with a blanket. They were sitting on a double recliner, but this time when he took a seat, he wrapped the blanket along with his arm around her shoulders and said, “Better?”

“Much,” she said, resting in the crook of his arm, her gaze on the lavender hues painted across the sky, a sight he enjoyed night after night when he was home. Together they watched the end of a long day fade away. After the sky turned a dark crimson, he said, “I’m sorry you didn’t get to visit with your parents. You put a lot of work and preparation into the dinner you had planned for them.”

“It’s no big deal. I’m the one that didn’t even want them to visit, remember? Karma gets the best of you every time.” She released a long sigh and then turned her head so she could look up at him. “Thanks for everything today. I couldn’t have pulled it off without you. At this point, I don’t know what I’m going to do when you’re off to training camp.”

“I’ll always find time for you and Ryan.”

Derrick found himself wishing life could always feel so simple and nice. “I should be thanking you for putting up with my family today,” he told her. “I never invited them, story of my life, but they always seem to show up anyhow.”

She smiled. “I love your family.”

He breathed in the sweet scent of her hair.

“I probably smell like bruschetta and Brie,” she said with a chuckle.

“I like bruschetta and Brie.” He was tempted to nibble on her neck.

Hank was lying on a blanket nearby and he made a yipping noise. Apparently Hank was dreaming. Tomorrow Derrick would put an ad in the paper and see if anyone claimed the dog as their own.

“I don’t think any of those ladies will cause a problem or think of suing the magazine now that they’ll all be on the cover together,” Jill said.

“I think you’re right.” All day, Derrick realized, the two of them had made nothing but small talk. It was his fault. He needed to apologize for leaving her in the middle of the night without saying goodbye. He needed to tell her exactly how he was feeling, no matter how complicated.

“I hope Mrs. Murnane can find a wig she likes as much as Hank liked that one.”

To hell with it
. He couldn’t take it anymore. He adjusted himself so that he was on his side and they were face to face and then he brushed his lips over hers. Her eyes glistened in the moonlight. She was beautiful and she tasted like heaven.

“I should check on Ryan,” she said, her actions contradicting her words as she angled her head so he had no choice but to kiss her neck.

She tried to get up from the recliner, but he used his body to keep her from going anywhere.

She laughed and he nibbled on her neck, working his way up to her ear. His body hummed with life as it often did when he was around her. He couldn’t seem to get enough of Jill Garrison, hadn’t been able to get his mind off of her since the first day they met. Everything inside of him zipped and zapped like electrical charges going off. She was the real deal. She said what she meant and meant what she said. There were no guessing games when it came to Jill and he found that maddeningly refreshing.

His mouth found hers again and he kissed her long and hard and when he pulled away for a mere heartbeat she said, “Do you think maybe this is all happening too fast?”

He raised his body, using his arms to prop himself upward. “No. I think it’s happening too slow.” He kissed the tip of her chin.

“That’s because you’re a man.”

He smiled. “And it doesn’t hurt that you’re a woman.”

“You know what I mean.” She reached up a hand and smoothed her fingers over his stubbled jaw.

“Actually, I don’t think I do know what you mean,” she said. She met his gaze square on. “I’m not sure my heart can handle being broken again so soon.”

His gut tightened, but he said nothing—only listened.

“You might not want to or mean to, but it’s different with guys. Men aren’t afraid of losing a part of themselves in a mere kiss.”

“That’s not true,” he said. “I lose a piece of myself every time I kiss you. It’s downright frightening.”

“Then why risk it?”

“Because the magnet on my refrigerator says I should do something that scares me every single day.”

“Now you’re just making fun.”

“I know that every moment I’m not with you, I’m thinking about being with you.”

“The truth is we have very little in common.”

“That’s not true,” he said. “I like dogs.”

“Exactly my point, since I prefer cats.”

“What about football?” he asked.

“I’ve never been fond of sports.”

“Many women don’t like sports. I like to sleep in,” he added. “Everyone likes to sleep in.”

She sighed. “I’ve been an early riser since the day I was born.”

His mouth dropped open in mock terror. “What about movies? I like horror films…thrillers…action packed films.”

“Romantic comedies are nice. I like romance.”

He maneuvered his body to make sure he wasn’t squishing her, and then he kissed her again and once more just for the hell of it. He finally pulled away and said, “I like romance, too.”

“You come from a big family.”

“I do.”

“And mine is small.”

“That it is.”

“You like lasagna. I like sushi.”

He nibbled on her ear.

“The list goes on,” she said in defeat.

He dragged his mouth across her cheek. “Yeah…it’s never-ending.”

“That feels good.”

“Hmmm.”

“Derrick,” she said. “I don’t mean to ruin the moment, but why did you leave last night? How do you really feel about me, about us?”

Looking down at her, he took in every single detail. Her small nose, creamy skin, and heart-shaped face would inspire any painter to grab his brush and canvas. Her eyes were bright, filled with something he couldn’t put his finger on.

She brushed a hand over his forearm. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking you’re beautiful beneath the moonlight. And I thought of something we have in common…Ryan…we both love Ryan.”

“True.”

She reached forward and played with the hair swirling about his ear and that small insignificant action made him want nothing more than to carry her to the beach and make love to her beneath the stars, but first he needed to man-up and come clean. “Listen to me, Jill.” He kept his gaze on hers. “I don’t wear my emotions on my sleeve. In fact, I don’t usually get emotional. At least, I didn’t until Ryan was born. I’m not sure how I feel about that…but I’m getting completely off subject here.” He exhaled. “Let me start again. Last night was a night I will remember for the rest of my life. Cliché, I know, but it’s true.” He stopped again. He inhaled, glanced up at the stars, and then started again. “What I’m trying to say is that…I want you to know that…I can’t remember the last time that I’ve wanted to kiss anyone the way I want to kiss you. And that scares the hell out of me. But I’ve never let fear control me. Never have, never will.”

“Derrick,” she said. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“I’m trying to be absolutely truthful with my feelings for you. From the start, you’ve been upfront and real with me. I want to do the same.”

She watched him for a moment before she said, “Is this about Maggie?”

“No,” he said shaking his head, “not really. This is about us.”

He felt her stiffen, her eyes unblinking as she waited for him to spit it all out.

“I’m just trying to be straight with you,” he said. “I like you and I want to be with you.”

“You have feelings for both us, Maggie and I, and you’re confused.”

She was right. That was the problem. “Yes,” he said as he leaned his head back against the lounge chair and looked up at a star-filled sky, feeling as if a thousand pounds had just been lifted from his shoulders. She was absolutely right.

Jill slid her legs to the side of the chair and came to her feet.

He lifted his head. “Where are you going?”

“It’s late. I need to get going.”

“You’re not going to stay tonight?”

“Here? With you?”

He nodded before he realized that in one-tenth of a second everything changed between them.
Did he do something wrong
? He jumped to his feet and nearly tripped over the lounge chair to get to her side. He took her hands in his and said, “I’m falling for you, Jill. I’m falling so hard and fast my head is spinning.”

“But you also have feelings for Maggie.”

He wanted nothing more than to deny it, take everything he’d just said right back, wind the clock backwards a few short minutes and start over. This whole forthright truth crap wasn’t working like it was supposed to. “I was trying to be real with you.”

“And I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it,” she said without emotion.

“I was hoping that what we’ve shared and my being truthful would be the beginning of something incredible.”

She angled her head as her gaze delved deeply into his, looking at him as if he was a moron or something worse. He hoped beyond hope that in the end, meaning in the next two minutes, she would be willing to give the two of them a shot. Forget about any feelings he might have for Maggie because more than anything he was sort of hoping those particular feelings would just disappear, go “poof” into thin air.

Jill straightened and looked about as if she had been about to say something but changed her mind. She tried to pull her hand away, but he wouldn’t let go.

“Don’t go,” he said.

She looked at him. “I was also hoping this was the beginning of something wonderful, but it is what it is. You can’t help feeling what you feel. I’m grateful that you opened up to me and told me the truth. And I hope you understand when I tell you that I can’t do this thing with you anymore…be your friend…grocery shopping, chocolate…stars. I can’t do any of it with you because I’ll never know in any given moment whether you’re thinking about me or her.”

Derrick was at a complete loss as to what to do, so he just stood there like a fool and watched her walk back into the house, gather her things and leave. He wanted to run to the front of the house and stop her before she left, convince her that he had it all wrong and she was the only girl for him, but his legs were glued to the ground. He wasn’t a moron. He was an idiot and a moron.

Jill looked around the ballroom, wondering when Thomas was going to arrive.

Her gaze swept toward the entrance, past the woman with the French twist who was talking to a statuesque brunette wearing to-the-elbow black silk gloves. Jill hardly noticed the tall blonde dripping in diamonds as her gaze locked on the newest arrival standing at the top of the staircase.

Instead of Thomas, it was Derrick who walked into the Grand Ballroom dressed to the hilt in top hat and tails. He’d gone all out and all eyes were on him, watching his every move as the music changed tempo and he moved to the music, gyrating his hips and making the women swoon as he danced his way down the wide set of stairs and across the marble floor until he stood before her.

A sly smile covered Jill’s face as she snapped her fingers, prompting the waiter to bring them a large glass bowl filled with a creamy ganache used for tarts, truffles, and for filling soufflés.

Derrick didn’t bother dipping just one finger. He took a whole handful of the chocolate filling whipped up by none other than Wolfgang Puck, who stood in the foreground holding a chocolate covered whisk. Fireworks exploded, lighting up the sky outside. Bells rang in the distance; Derrick winked and she laughed as tiny chocolate truffles rained down around them.

Jill jolted upward in bed and opened her eyes.

She looked about her bedroom, everything in its place. Her heart pounded against her chest. She had done it again.

~~~

Today they were celebrating.

Chelsey, Jill, and Sandy drank champagne while they looked through dozens of pictures and tried to decide which picture from the cook off would be used as the cover for next month’s issue of
Food For All
.

It didn’t take Jill long to select her favorite eight-by-ten glossy. “This one is perfect.”

Chelsey popped the cork from a bottle of champagne and then ducked as the cork bounced off the ceiling and hit the refrigerator before rolling around on the floor. “Who wants champagne?” she asked.

“Just a tiny bit for me,” Sandy said.

Chelsey filled the fluted glasses with champagne and set two of them on the coffee table.

Sandy examined the picture Jill held up and wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know if Mrs. Murnane is going to like that one. If you look closely, you can see that her wig isn’t quite centered on her head.”

“You’re right,” Jill said. She put the picture in the reject pile and looked back at the remaining pictures.

Chelsey picked up a picture and held it up for all to see. “How about this one? All three women look good.”

Jill crossed her arms. “But the silver-haired woman—”

“Fiona,” Sandy said. “That’s her name.”

“Fiona isn’t smiling,” Jill finished.

“But it is the most flattering,” Sandy said. “If it were you, would you want the one where you’re smiling or the picture with the most flattering angles?”

“The most flattering angles,” they all said in unison.

“Okay, that’s the one.” Jill moved the rest of the pictures into the reject pile and then lifted her glass. “Cheers to our amazing photographer and another successful cover.”