Fudgeballs And Other Sweets Read online

  Jenny automatically waited on clientele, ignoring Teensy’s incessant cooing. Mrs. Wilcox had steered clear of the discussion, waiting on customers while Jenny dealt with the situation. As she weighed and counted fudgeballs, she watched Rob and Teensy move about, gathering personal belongings and stuffing them in knapsacks. Dory’s bibs and diapers were packed, her two carriers and playpen folded and laid beside the other items. Teensy juggled the baby, as if unaware of the chaos they were causing.

  Dave walked around the counter, and a moment later Jenny felt his hand at her hip, the soft brush of his breath against her cheek as he leaned close and whispered, “I’m next door if you need me.”

  “Thanks.” She blinked back tears, trying to read the numbers on the scales. She didn’t want to think how this would affect their relationship. From the moment Rob left, she and Dave had shared responsibility for the child. When Dory was no longer around, how often would he stop by to visit?

  As he was leaving, Dave paused to tweak Dory under the chin. “So long, Munchkin.”

  Dory giggled, thrashing her feet.

  He focused on Teensy. “She’s got a tooth.”

  Blowing a gum bubble, Teensy’s face brightened. The bubble popped. “She does?” She poked a finger in Dory’s mouth, searching for proof. Dory bit her, and she jerked back, laughing. “Look, Rob. She does!”

  “If you look close, you’ll see the beginnings of another one,” Dave encouraged.

  “Two! Awesome!”

  Dave stepped to the door. “Jenny took pictures—you’ll want a copy before you leave.”

  “Cool,” Rob said.

  It took less than fifteen minutes for the happy couple to collect their personal belongings. “That about does it,” Rob announced as he emerged from the back room. He paused, catching Teensy for another long, involved kiss.

  Jenny wiped her hands on her apron and stepped to the register. She opened it and removed a check. Tapping Rob on the shoulder, she said, “You’ll need this.”

  Rob glanced at the check as he broke off the kiss. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me. I owed you for a week’s pay when you left”

  Rob pocketed the check, then picked up the carriers, playpen and knapsacks. “Later, dude.”

  Jenny refused to look at him. “Yeah, later.” She weakened, her eyes riveted on Dory as Rob smiled at Teensy and motioned her toward the door. Grinning, Teensy manipulated one of Dory’s arms to wave at Jenny. She waved back, smiling though tears. “Bye, sweetie.”

  They disappeared though the doorway and she raced to the window to look out. The infatuated couple were holding hands, walking toward the dock to catch the two o’clock ferry.

  “Life can hurt sometimes.” Mrs. Wilcox approached from behind. “I lost a young ’un once. Just a few days old, but a person can still get mighty attached to a baby in a very short time.”

  Jenny’s courage crumbled. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. “I knew Rob would come back—I shouldn’t have let myself get so close.”

  “Aw.” Mrs. Wilcox awkwardly patted her back. “Don’t be ashamed to cry, honey. Lovin’ someone ain’t bad, it’s not lovin’ that gets you in trouble.”

  SOFT, GOLDEN RAYS settled into the Mackinac Straits as day gently surrendered to evening.

  Dave poured Coke into a glass of ice, then carried the drink to the flagstone patio where he pulled up a chair and propped his feet on the low stone wall to watch the sunset. The honeysuckle climbing along Aunt Mosie’s lattice trellis scented the air and reminded him of Jenny. Was she as lonely tonight as he was?

  A light breeze sprang up as he studied the tree line along the bluffs, thinking how complicated life had become. At one point, he’d thought he owned the world.

  Without Megan, he felt empty.

  Dory and Jenny had filled his empty places. For a while, he’d laughed again. Now Dory was gone. Without Dory, Jenny didn’t need him. The empty places were back, deeper and darker.

  Melancholy settled around his shoulders like a heavy mantle as he watched a songbird fly. What hurt more? Losing Dory or losing his reason to spend time with Jenny? The relationship had started out so innocently. When had his feelings become more substantial, more disturbing? He’d just come out of a bad marriage. The last thing he wanted was to open himself to hurt again. He’d had his fill of lawyers and shouting matches.

  Dory had brought out paternal feelings, feelings he couldn’t deny. Exactly where did Jenny fit in his life? Until they’d spent time together, she was merely an obstacle to overcome, a hindrance, someone who occupied space in his building that he wanted. The last few weeks, she’d become more. Tonight he was hurting for her, and he hated the feeling.

  Leaning back in the wicker chair, he closed his eyes, soaking in the waning rays of sunlight. The house was so damn quiet tonight. He listened to the faint rustle of leaves, the melodic cry of the songbird, aware he’d never felt more alone. This was the hardest hour, the hour when he used to come home and play with Megan. They’d toss a ball around the yard, play jacks, his large fingers clumsy next to her tiny ones, or eat cookies and drink tea seated at her red and white table and chairs in the playroom. He bit back pain, wondering if it would get any easier. Would he ever stop waking up in the middle of the night, hearing the way her voice sounded? “Oh, Daaddy,” she’d say when he razzed her about her hair or about marrying the scrawny kid down the street.

  What must Jenny be feeling right now? This was the hour she’d feed Dory, take her for an evening stroll, give her a bath—

  The doorbell rang, interrupting his thoughts. Wiping a hand across his face, he got up. When he opened the door, Jenny was standing before him, red-eyed.

  They stood for a moment without speaking.

  Tears slid from the corners of her eyes and dripped off her cheeks. Swallowing, he felt his common sense draining away. Hell. He always was a sucker for tears.

  He opened his arms, and she threw herself into his embrace, her breasts pressing into his chest, her hands clinching behind his neck. “Now, now, what’s all this?” he said, hugging her tighter. She glanced up and started to speak, but he silenced her with his finger.

  “I understand. There’s no need for words.” He knew she pressed her forehead against him to hide her tears. “You don’t have to be tough for me.” His hand moved to her ponytail, and he removed the band, freeing the silky strands. He slipped his fingers into the golden curls and eased them to her shoulders.

  “Oh, Dave, I feel so…so…”

  “Empty?” He felt her nod, then shiver. “If I could take away your pain, I would. I know what empty feels like.”

  Jenny took a step back, wiping her eyes. “I’m so sony.”

  “For what? You haven’t done anything to be sorry for,” he said, taking her hand in his. Tears streamed down her face, and he wanted to kiss them away. She was so very vulnerable. Tonight wasn’t the time for apologies. It was a time to console. All he wanted to do was put a smile on her face.

  Her voice sounded small and scared. “Until Rob and Teensy took Dory away, I could only imagine how you felt about Megan. Now I know, and what I imagined wasn’t nearly as bad as this.”

  He pulled her into his arms and held her close as she sobbed. Long minutes passed while she allowed her grief to show. He wanted to tell her how glad he was she had come to him to share this moment, to find solace with him. It made him feel good to know she’d come to him first.

  When the tears subsided, he led her into the small den at the back of the house.

  Jenny sighed, drained of emotion. He thoughtfully poured her a glass of wine and allowed her a few moments to compose herself. She should be embarrassed for bawling like a baby, but he seemed to understand. He left the cozy den to get something from his bedroom, and she wondered what was taking him so long.

  She glanced at the staircase and wiped her nose when he appeared at the top, making his way toward her. He had something in his hand, something too small to see. A shiver
ran down her spine when he sat next to her on the couch, his leg touching hers.

  He picked up her hand and laid a small, black velvet box in her palm. “For you.”

  Her stomach turned to warm mush. Why did she feel as though this was prom night and he was the first date of her life? Because he excited her in a way no man ever had, and she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to conceal her feelings from him, especially when she was hurting like this.

  “Open it.”

  The twinkle in his eyes reminded her of a little boy on Christmas morning. She smiled and opened the box. Her breath caught when she saw the diamond heart necklace sparkle against the dark background. “It’s beautiful, but…”

  “No buts, just promise me you’ll wear it.”

  “Why, Dave? It’s far too expensive a gift for…”

  He took the box from her, removed the necklace, eased it around her neck and hooked it in back. “I like to see a beautiful woman wear diamonds, especially a woman who deserves them.”

  “Deserves them?” Before she could protest, his mouth covered hers and his arms drew her close. His hands roamed her back in small circles, every movement soothing and erotic. He deepened the kiss and tightened the embrace, and she knew she was lost. She could no longer deny she needed him, wanted him.

  Ever so slowly, he ended the kiss. The look in his eyes said he understood her uncertainty but didn’t share it.

  He gently stroked her hair. “Do I scare you?”

  “Scared isn’t exactly what I’m feeling.” She smiled, aware her voice was unsteady. She hadn’t been this nervous since she wore her first strapless gown. He didn’t frighten her, but what she was feeling toward him alarmed her. Love was a scary word, one she didn’t dare utter.

  “I’d never do anything to hurt you.” He kissed her cheek, then the tip of her nose. “Do you believe me?”

  “I don’t know what I believe.” She gently traced his hairline with the tips of her fingers. “If I’m afraid, it’s because I question our judgment right now. Are we lovesick fools about to make the mistake of our lives?”

  Dave laughed. “I wouldn’t call us fools.”

  Her fingertips stilled over his lips. “Is it possible then that our perspectives are clouded by hurt and anger?”

  “It’s possible, but it’s also possible that I find you desirable, Jenny, and I hope you feel the same about me.” His hand slipped to her shoulder and pushed fabric aside to reveal bare skin. “If you’re not ready for this, say the word and I’ll stop.”

  “Dave, I can’t promise…”

  “I’m not asking for promises. I want you, Jenny, because of who you are and how you make me feel.”

  She closed her eyes to stop tears that threatened to start again. She wasn’t sure what to make of his words, but she was sure of what she wanted from him.

  He smoothed her hair from her face, then gently kissed her forehead. As she opened her mouth to speak she found his lips lowering to hers again. This time it was as if he was asking permission to love her, permission she granted with all her heart. She was tired of being alone, facing life by herself. He gave her a reason to go on, a will to succeed and overcome, a light in the face of darkness.

  His lips tasted and invited as he stood up, pulling her with him. He lifted her into his arms and carried her up the long stairway. Propriety said stop, but her heart said hold on to him for as long as possible.

  He kicked the door to his room open, carried her in and laid her on a soft mattress surrounded by an antique four-poster bed with a delicate lilac comforter and pillows.

  He smiled apologetically. “This isn’t my taste—it’s my aunt’s house.”

  “It’s lovely.”

  “No, you’re lovely.”

  With gentle finesse, he removed her T-shirt, then her bra. Her heart beat so fast she was afraid he’d hear it. As he lowered his head and his mouth closed over her breast, she had misgivings. She wanted him, every fiber in her body screamed for him, but was it right? Tomorrow, would she fervently wish she’d left before it was too late? She’d never been one for one-night stands. It was just emotions driving her, making her lose all control. They were both grieving for Dory. At this moment she needed what only he could give her.

  Lowering his head, he deepened the kiss to a hungry urgency. The kiss wasn’t the action of a man hellbent on having his way. It was the action of a man who wanted her, a saddened man who couldn’t bear to spend another night alone. Her hands found the bottom of his Polo shirt, and she pulled it free from his pants, forcing him to stop his delicious assault while she eased the fabric over his head. Her hands roamed the bare expanse of his back and shoulders, and she felt his muscles tighten beneath her fingers.

  He lifted his head to meet her eyes, silently questioning her, but she had no answers. Not tonight, certainly not in the morning.

  “Are you sure?” He watched her nod. “One more kiss and you’ll have no choice.”

  “I’ve made my choice,” she whispered.

  His hands slipped to her waist, unbuttoned her shorts, then inched them down her legs until they fell to the floor.

  She shivered when his eyes devoured her. “Disappointed?”

  “Not at all.”

  There was an unmistakable tingle in her abdomen as she reached for his belt. It wasn’t the first time she’d been with a man, but her body was responding as if it was.

  She heard a low groan deep in his throat as she freed him of his clothes. The desire in his eyes told her all she needed to know for now. He kissed her again, his fingers toying with the lace band of her panties, slipping under, then along the edge. He was torturing her with deliberate, masterful touches, his hand exploring every inch of the lacy fabric, inside and out.

  Her breathing quickened as his tongue delved with an expertise far beyond her experience. Part of her wanted him to hurry, yet a deeper, darker part of her wanted the night to last forever. But bodies betrayed them. It had been too long, far too long.

  A soft moan escaped her when he entered her. Time stopped, and he filled her, mind and body, his energy pouring into her, causing tremors of delight. The erotic scent of his skin filled her senses, the taste and feel of his kiss on her lips.

  No foolish pride, no separate goals, only the need to erase the hurt.

  Words were unnecessary. Bodies melded, satisfying each other to the limits of human endurance, seeking only the immediacy one could give to the other.

  AFTERWARD, Jenny lay replete in the darkness, trying to make sense of their lovemaking. She had never been as uninhibited or as needy. What must he think of her?

  Rolling to his side, Dave lifted a strand of her hair and kissed her neck. “Let’s take a bubble bath.”

  “I don’t know about that,” she murmured “You in bubbles?”

  “Come on, it’ll be fun. I haven’t taken a bath with a beautiful woman in days.”

  “This should persuade me? You’re crazy.”

  His eyes softened. “Crazy about you.”

  He scooped her up in his arms, carried her into the bathroom and playfully deposited her in the Jacuzzi. The warm water sloshed over her, and bubbles rose around her throat, lulling her into an erotic stupor.

  Suddenly, candles along the rim of the tub flickered to life, their aromatic scent permeating the small room. He slid in beside her, and bubbles floated through the air. Her breath caught when his hands found her breasts, then smoothed over her stomach and below. When he pulled her to him, her legs circled his waist, and she clung to him, passion igniting. His lips were warm against hers, and in the small, steamy room, she floated to worlds she never knew existed.

  “I want to make love to you again, only slower this time.”

  She moaned. “You must think—”

  His mouth rested against hers. He whispered, “That you’re terrific.” His face sobered. “Stay here with me, Jenny.”

  She couldn’t deny that she wanted to stay just as badly as he wanted her to.

&nbs
p; Candlelight bathed the heated room. “And do what?” she parried.

  “Oh, we’ll think of something.”

  His mouth found hers, and she savored his tenderness, inhaling the fresh scent of bubbles and the feel of his arms around her. Of course, she would stay. How could she refuse?

  Drops of water trickled from his hair and tickled her face. She pushed him away, laughing. “This is the first time I have ever seen your hair wet! You look so…cute.”

  Her giggle died to a smile. Was this really love she was feeling? Was it possible he was beginning to feel the same about her? She didn’t dare ask, it was much too soon. They needed time to explore their new, erotic feelings. The last thing she wanted to do was scare him away. No, she’d take it slow and easy, one step at a time.

  He tugged a lock of her wet hair. “Cute. You think I’m cute. What else do you think I am?”

  She thought he was the most wonderful, caring man she had ever known. “Just cute, Kite Man. Don’t push your luck.”

  “Kite Man, is it?” He pulled her into his arms and playfully dunked her under the water. When she emerged, spitting, he pinned her arms over her head and gave her a loud, smacking kiss.

  “Ooh, that’s bad—and not fair, either!”

  His gaze adored her. “I’ll show you fair.”

  She forgot fairness, and all else but the glorious sensations he caused inside her. Tomorrow was soon enough to think about her actions. For now, she wasn’t going to think at all.

  8

  “STOP LOOKING AT ME.” Princess got up and turned her backside to Jake.

  He stared, head on paws, his eyes following the way her hips swayed as she strutted. “I’m still mad at you for landing me in the slammer.”

  “I had nothing to do with your incarceration.” She sniffed and batted her eyes. “We have not talked since the incident. Was it horrible, monsieur?”

  Jake snorted. “It weren’t no picnic, honey.”