Chapter Seven
Jessie stood with her hands fisted on her hips, trying to puzzle out this man. Nobody did things for her, with or without permission. They just didn’t. Tiffany pitched in here and there, but still respected Jessie’s wishes. Tiffany’s husband, Mike, did a few things, but they always ran it past her first. And if Jessie said no, that was the end of it. Everybody was happy.
Henry didn’t seem to operate on the same terms. His macho act was a pain in the ass. And he was going to have to get over the way she liked to do things. Starting with her sleeping arrangements in her own home.
All her heat was gone again because of her soaking wet fireplace. Her fingernails bit into her palms, knuckles dug against her hip bones. Fifteen minutes ago her fireplace had been full of warmth and flames. Filled to the brim with logs and red coals. This room had been warm. She’d taken a quick shower and returned to find her warmth had been smothered out to a pit covered in white foam.
And no, she didn’t miss the fact that her fire extinguisher was missing…implying he probably took it. Any heat the room had built up was gone.
Freeze to death or not, like hell was she giving in.
She hurried fast as she could up the stairs for the spare blanket off Tiffany’s old bed. Push her out of her home?
Ha!
It was going to have to get a hell of a lot colder on this night. She slipped under the pile of blankets on her couch, even tucked her head under and snuggled her cold body up to a ball.
After a few minutes, the biting chill would calm and she’d be warm in her cavern of blankets. In just a few minutes. A few more minutes and she would feel her toes again. She pulled in a deep breath and blew it out. She closed her eyes and waited as her body heat warmed up her hidey hole by a degree or two. People in the olden days had it far worse than her right now. She was covered in blankets, protected from further cold and a roof over her head. This was survivable. She closed her eyes and relaxed.
Until there was a thump. She opened her eyes. Then another thump. And another like footsteps coming up her back porch. She pulled at the edge of the blanket and peeked out and sucked in a breath at the chill. Her spot had warmed up quite a bit in comparison. Another thump and then Henry stood at her backdoor with a flashlight in his hands.
He jerked on the door, but it didn’t open with the lock holding it in place. She should have thought to throw the damn bolt too, but she never used it and didn’t think of it. It took a lot of jiggling and lifting on the door to get the bolt to align and lock in.
“Jessie!” He jerked again and there was cracking, popping and mutters of Henry cursing.
She closed her eyes, knowing her backdoor had just come off again.
“Jessie, you stubborn ass.”
Though it shouldn’t, that got her to smile.
He sat her door aside and walked in. “Where are you?”
She didn’t move. His light swept over the room and she pulled her head back from her peeking hole. His light stayed on her and she knew she was found.
He sighed and grabbed blankets, tossing them back until the last one was gone. Wind rushed through her open doorway, swept through her thick pajamas. A hiss seeped from her lungs. He shook his head. “Yeah. It’s colder than a well digger’s ass. Am I going to have to carry you?”
“If you hadn’t ruined my fireplace, it’d be plenty warm in here.”
“It would not be plenty warm.” He reached and before she could argue, he had her over his shoulder.
“Henry! Put me down.”
“You wouldn’t know your own good if it smacked you upside the head.”
“You wouldn’t know your own place if you stepped in it and drowned. This is my home. I’m not your responsibility.”
“I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”
“Why not? Who put you in charge of me?”
“Someone needs to take care of you.”
That was it. A threat. It may not seem like a threat, but the memories of the blankness closed in and she freaked—stretched, tried rolling, kicked out and punched him in the back.
“Damn it.” He dropped to a knee.
Jessie twisted and fell off his shoulder. The hard ground smacked the breath from her lungs. The biting cold frost stuck to her cheeks. She scrambled back across the ice capped grass, stood as best she could in her socks on the cold ground. “I do not need to be taken care of.” With no other choice, she turned toward his RV.
“You’re being ridiculous.”
She spun back. “No. You don’t get to decide anything for me. You don’t know shit about me, what I’ve been through, what I’ve done.
You
don’t know.”
“I know what happened with Quinn and why you hate him and that, I think has a lot to do with—”
“Quinn is an asshole and was only one more slop of shit in the bucket I should have avoided. Do not equate him with my life and its pitfalls. He wasn’t even the half of it, only a small piece.”
“Surviving the death of parents is not easy. You had your cousin to raise on top of it all.”
She pointed a finger, half wanting to jab his eyes out. “You wouldn’t know what that’s like.”
“Yes and no.” He stood now. “My parents left me in the lap of my grandpa before I could remember them.”
She swallowed and crossed her arms under her chest. “So you may know a little.”
He came closer and rubbed a hand down her shoulder. “Just because you accept help doesn’t make you a lesser person.” His voice was softer. Down to a soothing whisper.
She looked up at him, breath caught in her throat. She wanted so much, but just couldn’t have it. “I can’t. It’s not that…I can’t. I won’t go back there. I failed her. When Tiffany needed me the most, I couldn’t. I was supposed to take care of her and I couldn’t. So no, I don’t want your help or anyone else’s. I can do this on my own because I can’t go back there.”
He frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Chapter Eight
Henry sat in his recliner and stared down the hallway. The TV was on, but muted. Colors from the country music station flashed, but he didn’t watch. He only stared down the hall to where Jessie was sleeping.
Or laying down. Or something. He hoped she was sleeping.
Henry had considered driving home tonight just to track down Quinn and beat the shit out of the man. Would it fix anything? No, but it sure as hell would make Henry feel a lot better and maybe he’d find out more. But he stayed. And he watched.
As much as he was afraid to admit it, Henry had a feeling the thing with Quinn and her parents weren’t the half of what life had dealt Jessie. In his opinion, she’d come out damn fine. Hard as hell, but she’d still turned into something amazing. And he wanted to peel her back, discover her layers.
Her door clicked and opened. She glanced his way and jumped, hand covering her chest. “You scared me.”
“Sorry.”
“What are you doing?”
He shrugged. “Can’t sleep.”
She looked down and leaned on the wall. “Me either.”
“Want something to drink?”
“Sure.”
He got up and she went down the hall toward the bathroom. He pulled out his hot chocolate and mixed a big mug full for her and topped it with marshmallows. Just as she came back out, he sat back in his chair and left the chocolate on the coffee table.
She eased down on the love seat and blinked at the hot chocolate.
“Did you want something else?”
“This is fine.”
“Is it? I don’t mind getting you something else.”
She smiled. “It’s really fine.”
“Are you sure?”
She sighed, the smile completely gone. “Stop. You’re doing it again and stop. It’s fine. I like hot chocolate.” She took a sip and licked a marshmallow into her mouth. “See?”
Yeah he saw. Couldn’t help but notice the tip of her tongue trace along her lip. He glanced away. “Want to talk about it?”
“No.” She drank from her cup.
He shrugged. “Fine. We’ll sit here and stare at each other all night.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why do you care?”
“I was raised not to be a shithead to people I like. Something’s bothering you, I want to know why so I can fix it.”
She chuckled, the sound hallow. “Fix it. You can’t fix it.”
He sighed. “Probably not, but I still like you and I still want to know.”
“Do you ever give up and just listen to what people say?”
He frowned. “I do listen. I heard you outside and that’s why I’m asking now.”
“What about when I told you no? To leave my fireplace alone, that I was fine. Did you hear that part?”
He shrugged a shoulder, knowing it looked bad, but he would do it all over again just the same. “I heard. I just chose to ignore it because there’s no point in it.”
She put her mug down and stood, he grabbed her hand and stopped her. “Wait. Sit down, please. I’m sorry, Jessie, but this is just what you do for friends.”
“My friends never forced me out of my home because my central heating is broken.”
He shrugged. “If they lived two feet away, maybe they would. Hell, Jessie, does anyone even know your heating is out to step in?”
She sat again and hugged a pillow to her chest. “Tiffany does, but she respects my choices.”
“You raised her, she doesn’t count. It’s like trying to force a parent to do something, but you can’t.”
A cold laugh came from her and she closed her eyes. “I’m no parent, and I promise she knows that.”
“What happened?”
She sighed, her eyes closed and was quiet for so long, he thought she might have fallen asleep, but finally she spoke. “Mom and dad and Tiffany’s parents were on their way back from the county fair when they wrapped their car around a tree. Tiffany moved in here and I was her guardian. We were all right. Making it. Quinn and I had dated off and on, here and there over the years. Shortly after my parents died, he broke up with me. He didn’t hide the fact that I was too much
baggage
, he called it, with my parents’ death and raising Tiffany.”
“He’s a jackass.”
“I know. I just didn’t know how much. Next thing I hear, he’s engaged, getting married. I’m in the bar one night. He’s there. His bachelor party, of all nights. First time I’d really stepped out in months, but I just needed some air and there he was. Familiar and comfortable. Said he was an idiot. Said what I needed to hear. That he needed me. He’d been a fool. He’d broken it off with his fiancée because he didn’t know what he had with me until I was gone. He loved me and that he’d never stopped loving me.”
She stopped and sat forward. She simply stared toward the mug. He waited. Already knowing the story helped, but it was damn harder to hear it from her than Quinn. She traced her finger around the rim of the mug. “The next morning, he was gone. Next thing I know, his wedding picture is in the paper.”
His fingers were back into fists. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to hug her. He couldn’t do either but sit there and dig his fingernails into his palms. “I’m sorry.”
She glanced up. “Don’t apologize for what you’re not responsible for.” She sipped from her hot chocolate and put it down. “A few weeks later, I was late.”
“Late?” A shudder went through her shoulders and she wouldn’t look at him. He couldn’t take it just sitting there and eased onto the couch next to her. “Jessie?” No answer, so he lifted her face up to his.
One tear slipped over her cheek and she cleared her throat. “My period. It was late. I was pregnant.”
“Oh, Jessie.” Shit. He rubbed circles on her back, wanting to pull her close, not sure if that’s what she wanted or not.
“I went to the doctor to have it confirmed, find out what I needed to do. That day, the doctor was late for my appointment. She was delivering another baby and I was waiting. The nurse popped in my room and asked if I wanted to play on the ultrasound machine and see my bean while I waited.” A smiled appeared on her face for a moment. “And there it was. This little bean on that TV up in the corner. That was my baby. I had no idea what I was going to do, but I knew it was mine.”
The ghost of the smile that had been there disappeared. A second tear washed over her other cheek. “Two months later, I had a miscarriage.” She sniffed. “I just…I gave up.”
Christ. He didn’t wait. He didn’t care. He pulled her in and she came willingly.
“I just gave up. Tiffany was seventeen and needed me and I gave up. I did nothing. Anything beyond breathing was too much, so I didn’t.” Her voice fell to a whisper. Wetness soaked through his t-shirt and against his skin. “I was at the mercy of Tiffany. She could have left and I wouldn’t have known, but she stayed. When I should have been taking care of her, she was taking care of me.”
She stiffened and jerked, pulled to sit up straight and out of his arms. She took a few moments, smoothing her hair, wiping her cheeks and then met his gaze with all her inner strength hard in her eyes. “So stop trying to take care of me. I don’t want it. I can’t go back through that.”
He wanted to pull her back. Swipe his thumbs under her eyes to relax the tension there. But he knew she wouldn’t like that, so he didn’t. “Sleeping here because it’s cold isn’t going to send you back.”
She shook her head. “Don’t. Please. Give me my fire extinguisher back so I can get back to my routine and what I need to do tomorrow. I’ll get someone out here to fix the heater as soon as I can. I’ve been making a list of repairs I want done first, but I’ll get that to the top and taken care of first. I wanted to fix windows upstairs first so I wouldn’t lose heat, but I’ll get on it.”
So hard, with such a soft heart. He held both her cheeks. “Kiss me and I’ll give it back. I swear I won’t do something to force you out of your home again.”
Her eyes narrowed. “One kiss?”
“That’s all I’m asking for.”
One long, intense, very long kiss. It probably wasn’t best to specify that at this point.
She rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
Her eyes closed and lips puckered out at him. A grin came easily and he cupped her cheeks. Stroked his thumbs across her lips and she softened. That delicate shell she tried so hard to keep up cracked and split open. The smartass pucker of her lips relaxed.
He caressed her face, remembering pottery class way back in college for some reason and smoothed the pads of his fingers across her eyebrows. Stroked down the bridge of her nose. Rubbed the circles of her cheeks until all that tension she’d been carrying around in her face softened and she was nothing but this beautiful open woman in his hands. The one he’d glimpsed at by that tree in the middle of the woods.
It was damn hard not to rush, but he moved slow until his lips hovered just over hers. It was tough. Everything about her sat before him, a warm woman waiting for his touch. His nose eased close enough to bump alongside hers and she tilted her head. Her lips parted more. Slow breath eased over his mouth, but he didn’t take his one kiss yet. He just wanted to take care of her. Take his time.
Show her that not everything had to be cold and hard. Black and white.
Cupping his hand under her chin, he tipped her to him. Stretched his fingers along the curve of her jaw. Across the angles of her neck. Her breath shortened as she leaned closer and he eased back to maintain the almost-but-not-quite distance, while he loosened her hair from the band.
Her hand slid on his thigh. A soft caress up his leg and so unlike the nervous slap she’d done to him last time. He dipped his head and their lips finally touched. It was agonizing to keep it all slow, but fast enough the kiss never stopped, never broke.
Her fingers on his thigh squeezed and she leaned more onto him. He followed her push against his chest until laying back on the couch with her stretched across him. This kiss, one kiss, continued on. A sweet tease of lips toying with gentle pressure.
Jessie was so unlike anyone he’d ever met before. A complete, nonstop contradiction of hard and soft. Giving and taking. This was a woman who didn’t take shit from anyone. More than anything, he wanted to roll her beneath him and spend the rest of the evening on just her. He doubted anyone had and he wanted to be that guy, but he didn’t, knowing she wouldn’t go for it and he was already on thin ice.
Instead, he fought the desire leaving him aching and forced this to remain slow. If there was to be more, she was going to have to take it. He cupped her face, keeping her close, forcing his hands on her cheeks instead of risking them down her body and cupping other parts of her. That could come later. If she let him.
The light weight of her stretched across him, covered and pressed down in all the right places. His blood pumped in hard pulses needing more. Just a rock or thrust of his hips. Sweat gathered down his back. The scent of her sex was strong in his memory. Resisting was stretched to his limits.
He tested his tongue against her lips and she moaned. The small sound, so delicate, so quiet, and asking for more. He did it again and she tilted her head, pressed her mouth harder to his and opened her lips.
Her hands grabbed his shoulders and she slid completely atop him. All her weight and body moved over his aching cock and he couldn’t help but arch up against her movement. Her breath sped faster. Her kisses pressed harder. Her tongue more urgent against his.
If he could just flip her over and have his way, they wouldn’t be able to move from this couch by the time he was finished, but he wanted to give her more. She dragged her fingers over his chest. Her nails caught on his shirt as she dropped them down, over his waist.
All he could do was lay there and take it as she slipped her hands under his shirt. The tips of her short nails caressed his stomach and he twitched as she explored across his ribs and back down.
Finally, he lowered his hands from her cheeks, to her neck and shoulders. Taking his time to touch. Find her ticklish spots. Learn what would make her shudder and what would make her cling to him.
But she sat up. Straddling him. Pulling out of his grasp and opened the front of his jeans. She flashed him a smile and hell, he let her go with it.
He grabbed her hips while she lowered his zipper and slid his hands up, under her fuzzy red cotton pajamas and cupped her naked breasts underneath.
She hissed and freed his member. Her small hand wrapped around him and her grip was tight, taking his breath. In one long, firm hold, she moved up his length, seemingly dragging his breath out of him with the smooth motion. She rubbed her thumb across the top of him and he mirrored her movements on her chest. Her warm eyes had become twin pools of heat and desire. Her smile, often playful, was now turned up at the corners while her teeth held her lower lip. He raked his thumbs across her tight nipples and she arched, the seductive look of her face accompanied with a gasp seeped from her throat.
Arching into his hands, her head tipped back and showed the column of her neck and the curling hairs at her nape. Body flushed and breath gasping, he’d never seen anything he’d wanted more.
Her fingers against his sides pulled into fists. “Condom, Henry.”
He pulled hard at her nipples and then caressed to soothe them. “In my wallet, to your right on the coffee table.”