Authors: Dawn Atkins
Jonah stopped moving.
She opened her eyes.
“I lost you,” he said.
“I’m here. I just…” Shame washed over her. “Don’t give up on
me.” If she didn’t push through, she might never have the courage to try
again.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
N
OT
LIKE
THIS
.
Not with that haunted look in her eyes. CJ was lost in the past, reliving
whatever her ex had put her through in bed. He hated that she’d been hurt in
such a personal way.
If he stopped, she’d be embarrassed and disappointed.
He had an idea. Holding her tight, he rolled over and put her
on top. CJ’s eyes widened, looking down at him. “What are you doing?”
“Letting you take the wheel,” he said, hoping to hell this
worked for her.
She sat up slowly. Damn, she was beautiful above him. Her
cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen. The heavy locket rested between her pale
breasts. He wanted to press his mouth to those breasts, run his tongue over her
nipples and—
It’s her show. Let her run it.
Jonah rested his hands lightly on her hips, determined to follow her
lead, pick up her rhythm, not grab what he wanted. He wanted it all.
She blinked at him and took a shaky breath. Had she never been
on top?
“You okay?”
She nodded, adjusted her knees and lifted herself, then wiggled
lower on his shaft. He ached to catch the down stroke hard, but he resisted,
letting her test-drive the position.
She repeated the move, a smile stretching, slow and sexy. “I
like this. This feels good.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“I’m back,” she said, leaning down for a slow kiss while her
hips rocked.
“Good to know,” he said, relief easing his tension.
She sat up and began to ride him in earnest, her breasts
bouncing gently, her back arched, bucking against the base of his shaft. He slid
a finger into her cleft. She was so wet and swollen he almost came himself.
CJ’s eyes flew open. “Oh, oh. That’s, oh…” She began really
moving now, giving out little cries. He stayed with her, riding her rhythm,
watching her face. Her eyes were glazed, her mouth slack, her cheeks bright with
color. What had she said about pupils pulsating? Hers were doing that for
sure.
“It’s… I’m…” she gasped. “Oh…I’m… I’m…oh…” With a sharp cry,
she dropped onto his chest, jolting and trembling.
“…coming. You’re coming,” he breathed. “So am I.” His release
came from somewhere deep, bringing with it old sorrows, old pain, washing it all
away in wave after wave, leaving only soft pleasure shuddering through him.
When they’d both stilled, he wrapped his arms around her,
breathing her in—sweet pink, night air and woman. He stroked her hair, feeing
her heartbeat slow, her breathing settle. He felt good. He felt…
happy.
He would remember this for the rest of his
life. “CJ,” he breathed near her ear.
She pushed up to look him in the eyes. “It’s Cara. Cara’s my
real name.”
“Cara,” he repeated, touched that she’d told him. He noticed
her locket resting between her breasts. He picked it up. “Can I see?”
She nodded. He opened it and held it so they could both see the
picture. It was a blonde toddler holding a stuffed rabbit.
“This is…Beth Ann?” He knew their real names. That felt
good.
“Yep. And that’s Bunny.” She pointed at the stuffed animal.
“The grubby thing she was carrying the day you came into the
diner?”
“Yes. She hangs on to him when she’s insecure.”
He closed the locket. “Speaking of that…you leave her my
number?”
“I didn’t have to. She knew where it was all along.”
“Good.”
“Thank you for this.”
“Don’t
thank
me, for God’s sake. I
was there, remember? Enjoying every minute.”
“Being on top was a good idea. It brought me back and gave me
control. Thank you for staying with me.” Tears shone in her eyes.
“You pushed through, Cara. You did it.” He brushed her hair
from her eyes, filled with tenderness for this woman who’d been broken, but was
coming back strong. He thought about the two hearts winking golden on his
windowsill and this soft and sexy woman in his arms.
If
that wasn’t luck, what was?
* * *
C
ARA
JOLTED
AWAKE
. Where was she? The low ceiling made her remember. Jonah’s
bed. She’d drifted to sleep.
“What’s wrong?” Jonah said foggily.
“Nothing.” She squinted at the clock. “It’s late. I should
go.”
“Not yet.” He pulled her back against him, his fingers barely
caressing her skin. That felt soo good. “Mmm, Cara,” he said, sniffing her neck.
“You smell even more pink now.”
Alarm flickered. He’d called her by her real name. “You have to
call me CJ in the café and everywhere else. And Beth Ann is—”
“Bunny. Got it. Sure.” He kissed his way to her shoulder.
This was heaven, lying here. She was so happy, so relieved.
She’d shoved Barrett out of her head—and her bed—she hoped for good, with the
help of the wonderful man curved around her body, his fingers now busy…
Oh, what was he
doing
to
her?
Despite how late it was, and how satisfied she’d been, she
wanted more. She rubbed herself against him.
He groaned. “If you’re going to go, you’d better stop
that.”
“Maybe I can stay a little while longer.”
He chuckled against her throat. “Good decision.” He reached
past her, then held out the condom packet. “Last one. Should I buy more?”
“Enough to last the summer,” she said, not hesitating one
bit.
Afterward, she headed for the café, the moon bright, the air
soft on her skin. Her feet seemed to barely touch the ground.
As she reached the porch, doubts flickered. What if she was
wrong? What if her panic returned? What if they got snarled up? What if someone
got hurt?
Cara glanced back at the trailer. As if in answer, Jonah stood
on his porch, a sheet around his hips, her big protective bear of a man, making
sure she got safely home. He raised a hand. She waved, her doubts completely
erased.
* * *
W
ITH
ONE
GIANT
breath, Beth Ann blew
out all ten of her candles, filling the air with waxy smoke. “I did it!” she
said. “Now my wish will come true, Rosie.”
Cara guessed Beth Ann had wished for Rosie to get chemo. In the
four days since they’d heard the diagnosis, Beth Ann had been engaged in a
quietly persistent battle to convince Rosie to do the right thing.
They’d made headway—Cara had seen Rosie reading Jonah’s
research, hiding it in her newspaper—but Rosie was stubborn.
“It’s a party, for God’s sake,” Rosie said. “Cut the damn
cake.”
Rachel gasped at Rosie’s language. Beth Ann had invited her
favorite friend from day camp to spend the night with her.
“Rosie swears a lot,” Beth Ann said. “You’ll get used to
it.”
Beside Cara, Jonah squeezed her hand under the table, which
gave her butterflies. She struggled to keep her face normal. Already, Rosie had
asked her twice if she felt faint. They’d agreed to keep their relationship
private, but Cara knew it was hard to hide her glow, or how often their eyes
met.
Cara served the cake Beth Ann had
“invented”—cherry-chocolate-chip with lemon-blueberry frosting, which turned out
to taste delicious—then Beth Ann opened her gifts. Rachel’s present was a
beading kit, which Beth Ann loved. Cara’s gift was practical—new school
clothes.
“Clothes?” Rosie said disgustedly. “That’s not a birthday gift.
Here.” She shoved a newspaper-wrapped box toward Beth Ann, who tore it open,
then gasped.
“It’s the
Wonder Woman
comics. But
you said I couldn’t touch them.”
“Not until your birthday, of course,” Rosie said. “Now that’s a
proper present.”
“Thank you so much.” Beth Ann left her chair and threw her arms
around Rosie, who turned bright red.
“They’re collectible so take care of them,” she said gruffly,
but her eyes shone with emotion.
“Let’s go upstairs and read them,” Beth Ann said to Rachel.
“I have something for you,” Jonah said, standing. “It’s
outside.”
“Outside?” Cara looked up at him.
“You’ll like it,” he said with a wink. “Let’s go.” He started
for the door.
“I’ve already seen it,” Rosie said. “I’m going to eat another
piece of that god-awful cake, then go to the TV and watch the Beverly Hills
housewives bitch at each other.”
Jonah led the rest of the party across the lot. As they neared
the stand of trees, Cara caught glimpses of boards in the low boughs of a huge
pine.
“You built my castle!” Beth Ann shrieked, then ran there,
Rachel at her heels.
“You built a tree house?” Cara tried to keep the dismay from
her voice.
“She said she wished her castle was real.” He shrugged.
“But we’ll be—”
Leaving soon.
She
couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud. “It was so much work for—”
so little time.
“There’s still eight weeks, Cara,” he said in a low voice.
“That’s a lot of time to enjoy the tree house and everything else.”
He meant the two of them, she knew. They’d only been together
four days and already she dreaded the goodbye. She’d get a preview when Jonah
went to New York for his show in two weeks.
In the meantime, Cara loved every minute they spent together.
Each time they made love, her bad memories faded further. Sex was amazing with a
man she trusted. Every night they tried something new. Jonah made her feel so
attractive, so desired, it made her shiver just thinking about the way he looked
at her.
“Come check it out,” he said to her, guiding her with a hand to
her back.
The gesture no longer made her nervous. Not with Jonah. He
wouldn’t push her anywhere she didn’t want to go.
When they reached the tree house, Beth Ann leaned down from the
opening. “We’re going to sleep out here tonight, okay? With flashlights and
sleeping bags?”
“I don’t see why not.” Her daughter’s joy was a delight to
see.
“You have to come up here, Mom,” she said.
“Go ahead,” Jonah said. “There’s room.”
Cara climbed the rungs he’d hammered into the trunk and lifted
herself into the “castle.” There was plenty of room for her and the girls and a
small table on low legs. Jonah climbed the ladder so his head and shoulders were
visible. “This is nice,” she said.
“Just the basics,” he replied, but she could see it had the
polish and beauty of all Jonah’s work.
Beth Ann exclaimed over the shelves, the windows and tiny
curtains, the ledge to sit on, complete with round orange pillows that Rosie had
contributed. She’d made the curtains, too, from tie-dyed cotton.
“I love it so much.” Beth Ann lunged to hug Jonah.
“Glad to hear that.” Jonah cleared his throat.
“Can you get Louis up here?” Rachel said.
“Sure, I can,” Beth Ann said. “Jonah says I’m the Cat
Whisperer.”
The girls spent the evening running back and forth between the
apartment and the castle, gathering toys, snacks, pillows and flashlights.
Finally, at ten, Cara called up to them from the base of the
tree house, “Permission to say good-night to the fair damsels?”
She’d tucked Bunny discreetly into a pillowcase to give to Beth
Ann, since she’d want it to sleep with, but might not want Rachel to know.
“You may enter, mi’lady,” Beth Ann said.
Rachel giggled.
Cara found them reading comic books by flashlights, eating
birthday cake.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Beth Ann said. “It’s great.”
She slipped the pillowcase to her daughter, who looked inside.
“No, thanks,” she said, handing it back.
Beth Ann didn’t need her comfort object. Wow.
Meow.
Cara did a double take. Louis was curled up on Beth Ann’s
sleeping bag. He looked at her with his one good eye.
I’ve
got this,
he seemed to say.
“Don’t stay up all night now. If I’m not in the apartment, I’ll
be at Jonah’s for a bit.” They would stay dressed until she was certain the
girls were asleep.
Cara climbed down, smiling. Beth Ann was bouncing back. She’d
made a friend. That was wonderful, but also sad. She’d have to say goodbye to
Rachel, too, along with the tree house, the cat, Rosie and Jonah.
She stopped to let the breeze lift her hair. The white lights
of Jonah’s deck seemed to welcome her. She loved being with him. She loved the
café. Beth Ann was happy here. It would be so hard to leave.
What if they stayed?
According to
Rosie, the schools were good. Beth Ann already had a friend. Cara could follow
through on the café improvements. And she could be with Jonah. The idea
quickened her pulse.
All she’d wanted was a safe home. Why couldn’t it be here?
She started toward Jonah’s, then remembered she wanted to show
him the new staff uniform shirt she’d ordered—yellow cotton, the logo in purple,
to be worn with purple shorts, a skirt or slacks—so she headed back to the
apartment, her steps light, feeling happy, thinking that maybe they could stay
in New Hope for a while.
The uniform box was empty, and Rosie told her she’d washed the
shirt to be sure it wouldn’t shrink, and it was now in the dryer.
In the laundry room, Cara opened the dryer door. The scent made
her instantly sick. She glanced up at the shelf and saw a new box of dryer
sheets—the brand she’d used three years ago. She backed out of the room, leaning
on the wall to wait for the nausea to fade.
The day Barrett attacked her, she’d been drying one last load
before she and Beth Ann left for Barstow. Barrett was living in a hotel at the
time to
wait for Cara to trust him again.
But that
wasn’t going to happen. The black rage that came over him when she even
mentioned divorce told her he would hurt her, so she knew she and Beth Ann had
to get away.
She had changed the locks, and started packing, placating him
on the phone to buy enough time to organize their departure.