Whatever It Takes (4 page)

She glanced at the navy-blue silk swamping her frame. The memory of going into his bedroom the night before hit her full force. The room used to be theirs but now held no trace of
her
. She should have expected it, but somehow, the realization had only shaken her. The same jolt of pain slammed into her again. She thought she’d put aside the heartache until she’d entered his bedroom. She didn’t want to think about all the years she’d believed her love would be enough. All the years she’d hoped one day he’d finally utter the three words she longed to hear the most:
I love you.

Over the years she’d convinced herself those words weren’t important, but actions speak louder than words, as the saying went, and his had ended up telling her a lot. The distinct lack of those words in his vocabulary only seemed to go along with everything else that told her she wasn’t a priority in her husband’s life. That made her eventually wonder if he didn’t say them because he didn’t feel them. That he worked so much had always made her wonder if he did it to avoid having to come home to her.

It didn’t help, either, that she was essentially homeless, having to rely on him again, yet there he was, tossing his teasing at her. Avoiding the subjects they needed to discuss. Like always.

Gathering strength from the irrational mix of anger, pain, and betrayal swelling in her chest, she swatted his hand away.

“You’d do well to remember I’m only staying here for Allie’s sake. We’re still divorced, and I like it that way.” She narrowed her eyes and jabbed a finger at his chest. “Keep your hands and your eyes to yourself and we’ll get along just fine. Otherwise, you’ll find yourself missing few body parts.”

God, it was such a bitchy thing to say to him, but damn it, he was frustrating. Being in this house with him again was driving her crazy, and all she’d done was spend the night. How on earth would she stay sane living with him until she found a new place? It could take months.

She shoved past him and marched to the fridge opposite her, but even the firmness of her words did nothing to dissipate the odd stir in her stomach.

“You keep saying that but have yet to actually do anything about it.”

The amused challenge in his voice halted her halfway to the fridge. Now standing on the other side of the center island, she pivoted to face him. He’d moved, now in front of the coffeemaker a few feet from her, pouring himself a cup. Like he hadn’t just tossed a challenge at her.

“Would you like me to?” She tossed the challenge right back at him, because it made her feel not quite so vulnerable, but her lowered voice lacked the punch she’d hoped for.

Jackson turned and leaned back against the kitchen counter. He raised his brows as he brought his mug to his mouth, pausing to grin at her over the rim. “Please?”

She dropped her arms, unsure whether she wanted to laugh or scream. Most guys found her skills sexy. Almost every guy she’d dated before she met him had wanted to see how flexible she was. Oh, she knew what they meant. They all wanted to know if she could get her feet behind her head, or how many interesting
positions
they could put her in. Some had even been arrogant enough to say so. When she wouldn’t sleep with them, however, she usually stopped hearing from them.

Not Jackson. They’d met on a darkened street in downtown Seattle. She’d been making her way back to her car after a martial arts expo when a man had attempted to mug her. Jackson, thinking to play the hero, had run over to help . . . in time to watch her flip her would-be assailant onto the ground and plant her foot on his throat.

No, Jackson found her skills amusing.
Cute
, he’d once told her. And she’d definitely heard from him again, because he’d asked her name, then asked her to have coffee with him. She’d turned him down, of course, but somehow, he’d found her anyway. He’d gotten her to go out with him using the exact humor he attempted now. Because his audaciousness had made her laugh and she hadn’t been able to resist.

“You have to be the most infuriating man I’ve ever known. Do you know that?” She planted her hands on her hips. The man knew every single hot button she had, every way around every wall she put up against him, and always managed to melt her defenses. “I’ve lost everything, Jackson. Everything. My entire world was in that house, and all you can think about is sex?”

She expected another impish retort. Instead, the amusement in his eyes evaporated, a sudden, tense silence growing between them. His expression unreadable, he set his coffee cup behind him, pushed away from the counter, and made his way over to the table nestled in the breakfast nook. He bent for a moment to pet Fred, now asleep on the padded window seat, then straightened and snatched up the robe she’d flung over the back of a chair earlier.

“Would you care to know
why
I love teasing you so much?” His tone a little
too
conversational, he returned to her, moving with the same, easy gait.

“Please.” She waved a flippant hand in the air and rolled her eyes. “Enlighten me.”

He stopped in front of her and set the robe on her shoulders. “Because I’m very aware of how much you lost last night, and teasing you always made you laugh. Out of all the things I miss about you, darlin’, I think I miss the sound of your laughter the most.”

Whatever irritation she managed to muster deserted her on the quiet, defeated breath she blew out. This tender side of him always managed to reach out and grab her by the heart when she least expected it. Once again, the clear emotion in his voice and expression hit her as unexpected. Not once in the time since she’d left him had he ever told her he missed her.

That’s what terrified her the most about living here again, how easily he could get to her. She’d discovered the hard way that loving him only led to heartache. Jackson Kade didn’t want a wife, a life partner. He wanted a trophy. Someone with which to fulfill the legacy his parents bestowed on him. His mother had told her as much when they married. Back then, Becca hadn’t believed a word the woman said, positive she’d played some sort of cruel game. His mother had never liked her and hadn’t bothered to hide it. Becca came from honest roots. Working class. Her family did well by itself, because they worked their tails off to make sure of it. She’d only seen her mother-in-law a handful of times, but the woman never hid the fact that she didn’t approve of their marriage. Or Becca.

Now, she knew his mother was right. Jackson had proved it over and over again, every time he’d call from the office to tell her he’d be late and to not to wait up. When their last anniversary had come and he’d announced he had to go out of town on business, how much more proof did she need? Clearly, he’d only married her because she’d gotten pregnant.

“How is irritating me going to make me laugh? And you miss me? Seriously? You sure have a funny way of showing it. I waited an entire month after I left for you to come get me. To tell me exactly that. That you missed me. But not once did you ever say it.” The words slipped from her lips weaker than she’d intended, full of all the pain still stuck in her chest. All because his hands had yet to leave her shoulders. His fingers kneaded the stiff muscles, slow, gentle, and torturous.

The miniscule action only deepened the conflicting sensations swirling within her. Because his touch also soothed, and every time he did it, a tiny part of her caved, hoped, and when reality descended on her, like now, she wondered . . . why her? He could have his pick of women. Women who could be everything he needed.

She was comfortable with herself, but she knew her limitations. She didn’t have the kind of luscious curves and long legs men drooled over. She was small, barely five foot four, and she had a boyish, muscular figure. No hips. No curves. Jackson was the first man to make her feel like a woman, to make her feel feminine and beautiful.

“Our sixth anniversary would have been a month ago, did you realize that? Exactly a month ago yesterday.” His gaze settled on hers, dark and intense, boring holes through all of her defenses.

The same look from yesterday, as if he had so much he wanted to say. Which made her wonder why he didn’t and brought up pain she wanted to forget.

“Yes. I did, but if you noticed it, you certainly didn’t tell me about it. As usual.” Unable to stand the intensity of his gaze, she dropped hers. Only to find herself gaping at the very chest she’d ogled moments before. She couldn’t stop the longing from flooding her. One step would be all it took to close the small space between them. One step and she could lose herself in his warmth, his clean, musky scent, and the safety his embrace used to give her.

The strength of the desire to do exactly that surprised her most. To go back to the time when they were happy. Except staring at him, her doubts rose to the surface all over again. Had they ever really been happy? Or had she convinced herself they were so she wouldn’t have to face the truth?

Along with those thoughts came the reminders of why she had those doubts in the first place. All the nights she spent waiting for him to come home from work. The dinners she and Allie spent alone. He’d spent more time at work than he had with her and Allie. The beautiful, sweet, romantic man she’d fallen in love with had disappeared somewhere, lost in a workaholic’s routine. Over the years, the bitterness and pain had turned her into a person she didn’t like anymore. Insecure, hanging on every tiny little measure of intimacy he tossed at her.

“Believe me, I noticed. I considered sending you flowers, but I knew you’d never accept them. Wasn’t sure I could handle you sending them back. Or discovering them in a trash can at the dojo.” Jackson’s voice flowed husky and rich as his hands slipped down her arms, the cool softness of the silk pajamas contrasting with the warmth of his skin. “You can make me sign my name on a piece of paper, Beck, but my heart still says you’re my wife. Believe me. I remember when our anniversary is. That was the day you left me.”

A shudder raked the length of her spine, as much from his words as his touch. God, why couldn’t she push him away? Summon the anger she so desperately needed? Digging deep in her belly drew up nothing but long buried wants and desires.

“Don’t do this to me, Jack.” She squeezed her eyes closed in a vain attempt to shut him out. “Not today. I have to go back to the wreckage that was my house and try and deal with the aftermath. Kyle called this morning. Do you know what started that fire? A damn shortage in the wires on my stove. It’s an old stove and one of the damn wires shorted out.”

Didn’t he understand how difficult this was? Leaving him and abandoning her dreams for their future was the hardest decision she’d ever made.

“Why are you doing this to me? Why tell me all this now? You didn’t even protest the damn divorce. Just signed the papers and sent them back. You couldn’t even be bothered to bring them back yourself. Why are you suddenly acting like you care?”

He didn’t say anything for so long she wondered if he ever would. Something deep inside said she didn’t want to see what emotion played in the depths of his eyes. She couldn’t bear to see the emptiness she knew she’d find there, the permanent but very subtle wall he put up to keep everyone, including her, out.

“Look at me, Becca.” One large, warm hand released her shoulder and cupped her chin.

Despite the warning ringing in her head not to, she obeyed and opened her eyes, only to wish she hadn’t. So many emotions erupted in his eyes, she stood stunned. An echo of pain. Regret. Even the same need currently burning a hole in her stomach. The sight had all those hopes and dreams she shoved aside when she left him roaring to the surface again.

“You being here isn’t easy for me, either. I’m doing the best I know how with this. But this doesn’t have to be hard. We can learn to get along.” He stroked his thumb across her chin, grazing her bottom lip. Whether on purpose or by accident, she didn’t know, but a shudder raked through her in response. Far too many months had passed since he’d touched her like this, so gentle and tender. Months since he’d looked at her like he truly missed her.

She ached to believe he wanted her, loved her, but time and experience had taught her otherwise.

“Would it kill you to smile at me every once in a while?” Although one brow arched in challenge, every emotion thrumming through her echoed back at her from the depths of his eyes. Regret. Fear. Need. All naked on his face, making him so much harder to resist.

Yes. It just might.
She needed her anger. The day she left she’d had to harden her heart against him, otherwise she’d never survive. The man was her ultimate weakness.

When she didn’t say anything, his body stiffened, his gaze darkening.

“I have to say, Beck, I’m surprised at you.” His tone curt and full of disappointment, his hand dropped from her chin. Instead of putting distance between them, he gripped the lapels of the robe and tugged them tight around her. He held one side in place with a flattened palm against her stomach and jerked the other closed. “It’s not like you to back down from a challenge.”

It didn’t escape her notice, either, that he’d just done it again. She’d asked a direct question and he’d carefully sidestepped around the issue.

She stiffened her spine and arched a brow, deciding for the moment to let it go and follow his lead. “
Are
you challenging me?”

“Yes, frankly, I am.” As he wrapped the belt around her waist and knotted it, he glanced at her. “Fact of the matter is, we’re going to be living together for a while, and I have no desire to fight with you for as long as you’re here. It’s not good for Allie.”

Oh, now he wasn’t playing fair. She lifted her chin and furrowed her brow. “I can do it if you can. You just better not push your luck.”

“Have you ever known me to push my luck?” He gave the belt a final tug before looking back at her. His eyes crinkled at the corners with his smug smile. “Now, do me a favor and keep this on. You’re less tempting this way.”

He winked and pivoted away from her. As he strode for the kitchen entrance, Becca glared at his back. Damn the man. He’d won, and now he was gloating.