Daisy's Back in Town (32 page)

It was exactly what she wanted too. Hearing him say it made it less scary.

"I love you, Daisy Lee. I've loved you all of my life."

She looked into the pain and passion in his gaze. "I love you too, Jack." But, a little voice in her head wondered, was it enough this time? It hadn't been last time.

She excused herself to go to the bathroom, and when she returned, Jack had pulled on a pair of jeans. While she'd been in the bathroom, he retrieved her dress and panties and they lay on his rumpled bed. She stepped into her panties and he helped her with her dress.

"So, what are you going to feed me for breakfast?" he asked as he adjusted a strap on her back.

"I'll think of something good."

"Something with whipped cream?"

She fled the strap at her side. "And a cherry"

He placed his arms around her and pulled her back against his chest. "I love cherries," he said against the side of her neck.

His bare chest warmed her skin and she had to fight the urge not to turn and kiss his neck. If she did that, she wouldn't make it home before Nathan. "Jack, I want this to work between us this time."

He squeezed her tight. "It will."

He sounded so confident she almost believed hint "Let's talk to Nathan about it together."

"Whatever you want."

"I don't know how he'll feel about moving to Lovett, and I don't want him to think we're moving too fast." She stepped out of his embrace and smoothed her hands over the wrinkles on her dress. "It hasn't been a year since Steven's death, and I don't want him to be uncomfortable with you and me together." She looked about the floor to see if he'd remembered her shoes. "I don't care what other people think, but! don't want Nathan to think we're together just to replace his dad." Her shoes must still be in the kitchen, and she returned her attention to Jack.

The loving man who'd just held her and assured her everything would work out this time turned to stone right before her eyes. His shoulders straightened. His jaws clenched and his gaze hardened.

"What's wrong?"

He walked across the room, passed the yellow light that spilled into the gray shadows. "How long do we have to call Steven 'Nathan's dad'?"

Daisy watched his bare back and said, "I thought you might be getting over that."

"I thought so too." He yanked open a dresser drawer and pulled out a T-shirt. "But I don't think I'll ever get over what that bastard took from me."

She closed her eyes for several painful heartbeats. "Don't talk about Steven like that."

He laughed without humor. "That's rich." He shoved his arms through the short sleeves. "You defending Steven Monroe to me."

"I'm not defending Steven."

He pulled the shirt over his head and down his stomach. "Then what are you doing?"

"I loved Steven for most of my life. He was not only my husband; he was my best friend. We laughed and cried together. I could talk to him about anything."

"Could you talk to him about how you felt about me?"

She'd almost had it this time. Almost, but it was slipping through her fingers like sand.

"Deep down the pit of your stomach where it gets tight at just the thought of being with me." He stalked back across the room and stopped just inches from her. "Did you tell him that?"

"No, but he knew." She looked up into his face, at the passion and bitterness in his green eyes. At the same passion and bitterness she'd seen the first night she'd seen him. "Being with Steven wasn't at all like being with you. It was different. It was…

"What?"

"Calm. It wasn't scaly. It didn't hurt. I could breathe around him. I didn't feel like if I didn't touch him, I would die. Like a part of something inside of me belonged to someone else."

"Isn't that the way it's supposed to feel? Isn't it supposed to feel like I want to smash you against my chest so hard I can still feel you after you leave?" He grabbed her shoulders and slid his hands to the sides of her face.

"Breathe the same breath. Feel the same heartbeat as you melt inside of me?"

Tears stung her eyes and she didn't even try to stop them. Her heart was breaking and her dreams had just slipped through her fingers. Again. "It's not enough. It wasn't enough last time. And it isn't enough this time either."

"What does it take, then? I love you. I've never loved any woman the way I love you."

She believed him. "Forgiveness," she said as the first tears spilled from her eyes. "You have to forgive me, Jack.

You have to forgive me and you have to forgive Steven, too."

He dropped his hands from her and took a step back. "That's asking a lot, Daisy."

"Too much?"

"Where Steven is concerned, yes."

"And me?"

He looked at her and his silence was her answer.

"How can we be together if you can't forgive me of the past?"

"We won't think about it." He grabbed his boots and shoved his feet inside.

"For how long? For how long won't we think about it before it comes up again? Tomorrow? A week from now?

Next year? Do you really think we can live with that between us?"

"I love you, Daisy," he said without looking at her. "It's enough."

"You also hate me."

"No." He shook his head and his gaze met hers. "No, I hate what you did. How could I not hate that you kept my son from me?"

"What I did was wrong." She wiped her tears from her face. "I admit that. I should have told you about Nathan.

I was scared and a coward. One day turned into one year. One year into two, and the longer I put it off, the harder it got. There is no excuse." She held out her hand to him, then dropped it to her side. "You have to understand. Steven -"

"Oh, I understand Steven," he interrupted. "I understood him the night y'all stood in my front yard and told me you were married. I understood that he loved you as much as I did and when he saw an opportunity to take you from me, he took it. He took my son too. And what you have to understand is, I can't just forget something like that."

"I'm not asking you to forget, but if you and I are to have a future, you have to get past it."

"You say it like it's easy."

"It's the only way."

"I don't know if I can. Especially where Steven is concerned."

"Then we can't be together. It would never work."

"Just like that? You get to decide?" He pointed a finger at her and slashed his hand through the air. "You get to say 'get over it' or get out of my life? You get to tell me how to feel?"

She shook her head and gazed at him through the blur of her tears. She breathed past the searing pain in her chest. She knew Jack felt it too. It was there in his raw gaze, and just like the last time, there was no way to stop it. "No. I'm telling you that you have a right to your anger. You have a right to it for the rest of your life. But it seems to me very lonely company when you can have so much more if you could somehow let it go."

Chapter Twenty

On the drive to Daisy's, neither of them spoke. The deep purr of the Shelby's engine was the only sound within the dark interior of the Mustang. Jack pulled the car next to the curb, and Daisy looked at him through the inky darkness one last time. Giving him one last chance to change things that he could not change. To say the words that he could not say.

How could she ask him to forget and forgive? As if it were that easy. As if it hadn't eaten a permanent hole in his gut. As if it wasn't always there, right below the surface.

So he watched her walk away. Into her mother's house, and he slid the Shelby in gear and drove home. He hadn't tried to stop her this time. There would be no fight. No one to hit.

But the pain was just as bad as it had been fifteen years ago. No, he thought as he walked back into his house. It was worse now. Now that he knew what could have been. Now that he'd had a taste of that life.

The chair he'd sat in while he'd made love to Daisy was still pushed away from the table. The table where she'd lain while he'd taken her into his mouth. He stared at it as the hole in his gut burned hotter. Burned up into his chest and throat-he about choked on it.

He picked up the chair, carried it out the back door and tossed it into the pitch-black yard. Then he turned and stared at the heavy wooden table that had belonged to his mother. Where they'd eaten family meals.

Where he'd eaten Daisy.

In his present mood, he probably could have picked up the whole damn table and chucked it outside with the chair, but it wouldn't fit out the door. He went to the shed and grabbed his power tools. When he returned, he flipped the table with one hand. It hit the floor with a loud satisfying crash. He popped a beer, fired up his Black

& Decker, and got busy.

By the time he was finished, the table was in pieces and lying about the yard along with the chair. He'd gone through a six pack and started on a bottle of Johnny Walker. Jack had never been a big drinker. Never thought it solved a damn thing. Tonight he just wanted to dull the pain.

With glass in hand, he moved from the dining room, passed his open bedroom door. Passed the lamplight shining on his messed up sheets that he was sure still held the scent of her skin. He walked into the living room and drained his glass. He didn't bother turning on the light. He sat on his black leather sofa. In the dark. Alone.

Light from the kitchen spilled out into the hail and almost reached the toe of his boot. He was tired and beat up from the football game and from Daisy, but he knew he wouldn't sleep. He'd told her he loved her and she'd said it wasn't enough. She wanted more.

He closed his eyes and the room spun. He felt the pitch and roll of his stomach. He'd flicked up. He'd let her into his life. He'd known better. He'd known she'd carve him up again like he had a big X on his chest. He'd held his arms wide and given her a good shot, too.

I'm telling you that you have a right to your anger. You

have a right to it for the rest of your life. She'd told him.

But it seems to me very lonely company when you can have so much more if you could somehow let it go.

Jack was a man who was used to fixing things. Of working until it was as close to perfect as possible. But he knew his limitations. He knew the impossible when it faced him.

What Daisy asked of him was impossible.

Jack didn't even realize he'd fallen asleep on the couch until Billy's voice woke him up.

"What the hell?"

Jack's eyes opened and he squinted against the light. Billy stood before him wearing his work overalls. "Wha t-"

His mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton and he swallowed. "What are you doing here?"

"It's almost tea. The shop's been open for an hour."

Jack was sprawled out with his feet on the coffee table, and he'd slept with his boots on. He picked his head up from the back of the couch and felt like he'd been hit with a brick. "Ah, Christ."

"Have you been drinkin'?"

"Yeah."

"By yourself?"

Jack stood and his stomach roiled. "Sounded like a good idea at the lime." He moved into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of orange juice. He raised it to his mouth and drank until his throat wasn't so dry.

"Why are there only five chairs where the table used to be?" Billy asked as he looked across the hail into the dining room.

"I'm redecorating."

Billy glanced at Jack, then returned his gaze to the five remaining chairs. "Where's the table?"

"In the backyard with the missing chair."

"Why?"

"I like it this way."

He moved to the back door and looked out. He let out a low whistle and said, "Having woman trouble?"

Jack reached into a cupboard and pulled out a bottle of aspirin. Woman trouble sounded as if it were fixable.

Like a little fight or squabble.

"Daisy Lee?"

"Yep. She comes back into my life. Fucks it up and leaves it that way."

"Are you sure it's fucked up?"

"Yeah. I'm sure." He swallowed four aspirins and asked, "Has Nathan shown up yet?"

"Yep. Right on time."

"Give me a few minutes to shower and shave and get my shit together, and I'll be there."

"Maybe you should take a day off."

"Can't. Nathan will be leaving in a few weeks, and I want to spend as much time with him as possible."

It took Jack a good forty-five minutes to pull him-self together enough to show up at the garage. His body ached and head pounded.

Nathan looked at him and his brows lowered. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." Jack carefully nodded and sank into the chair behind his desk.

"Did you take too many bad hits in the game yesterday?"

"A few." He'd taken the worst hit after the game.

"What are you doing tonight?"

"I'm going bowling with Brandy Jo." He shifted his weight to one foot and pulled his lip ring into his mouth. "I was thinking about kissing her. I think she wants me to, but I don't want to suck at it." His gaze stared into Jack's and he asked, "How did you learn to kiss a girl?"

Jack smiled and his headache subsided at bit. "Lots of practice. And don't worry about not being good at it right out of the chute. If Brandy Jo really likes you, she'll want to practice with you."

Nathan nodded as if that made sense. "Did you practice with my mom?"

He pretended to give it some thought, but the truth was the memory of the first time he'd kissed Daisy on her porch was imbedded in his mind, eating at his brain like acid. "No, I'd turned pro before I dated your mom."

Nathan sat and they talked about girls and what girls liked to do besides put on makeup and shop. He was pleased to hear that Nathan was thinking about more than just how to make out with Brandy Jo. He wanted to buy her something nice and do nice things for her.

They talked about cars and Jack was surprised to hear that Nathan was over his obsession with the Dodge Daytona. He now wanted to buy a Mustang, like Jack's Shelby. Nathan was to get his driver's license next week.

Jack saw the snow job a mile away. He'd let Nathan drive the Shelby. Not a problem, as long as Jack was in the car.

Jack spent the rest of the day at his desk trying to tune out the irritating whine of sanders and power tools.