Mr. February (8 page)

She wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged him down. And he was lost.

*

Rafe’s kiss was different than before. More demanding, almost ravenous, sparking Jillian’s own hunger. When he skimmed his palms up her sides, she tensed with expectation. His thumbs brushed across her nipples, and the breath fluttered from her lips.

To her dismay, he stopped and tore his mouth from hers. “Do you want me to stop?”

She could barely think, let alone form words. After returning his hands to her aching breasts, she pulled him into another kiss.

Rafe seemed to sense when her knees were about to buckle. With his lips fused to hers, he backed her toward the sofa and drew her down. It was too short for them to stretch out fully, and Jillian ended up on his lap.

He lifted the hem of her long-sleeved T-shirt up over her bra, unfastened the front clasp, and pushed it aside. Cool air washed over her hot skin. She shivered.

His molten gaze slid over her. “You have beautiful breasts.”

“I’ve always wished they were bigger.”

“They’re perfect, with the prettiest pink nipples.” With his finger, he traced one areola. “Tight, like rosebuds.”

Oh, the pleasure. Suddenly damp between her legs, Jillian let her head fell back and thrust out her chest, silently offering herself.

With a masculine growl of desire, Rafe lowered his head and pleasured her with his mouth.

Sheer bliss. Longing for more, she shifted restlessly in his lap.

“Easy,” he cautioned, grasping her hips and holding her still.

Dazed, she blinked at him. The man looked as if he was in pain. “Did I hurt you?”

“Not exactly.” His lips quirked. “This feels more like torture.”

Hot hands skated down her stomach. The button on her jeans had always been slightly bigger than the buttonhole, and difficult to unfasten.

Would he have trouble with it? Jillian caught her breath. But no, he deftly worked it open, like the experienced man, the
stud
he was.

Her guarded heart, open and tender, contracted in alarm, all but destroying her desperate need for him. “Don’t, Rafe.”

He went still. “Okay.” In short order, he zipped up her jeans, tugged her shirt down, and set her on the cushion beside him. “Maybe we should talk.”

*

Rafe desired Jillian more than he could ever remember wanting a woman. And she was just as hot for him, which was a total turn-on. But she’d been right to stop him.

“As bad as I want you, Jillian, what we’re doing is crazy,” he said, for both her sake and his. “You’re looking for marriage and kids, and we both know I’m the wrong man for that.”

She nodded and blew out a heavy breath. “When we’re apart, that’s easy to remember. But when we’re together and your eyes go hot and dark and focused… Then it’s hard to recall
what
I want. While you were kissing me and touching me… I didn’t want us to stop.” Hesitating, she glanced down at her hands for a moment. “I never felt this way before, and it scares me.”

Rafe appreciated her honesty, but the words made him plenty nervous. “I don’t want to be the guy who breaks your heart.”

Her eyes flashed. “You think I do? I’m not falling for you, Rafe. I just… I have this physical thing for you that won’t let go.”

“You’re talking about sex.” Relief washed over him. He glanced down at the hard-on about to bust his fly open. “As you can see, I’m on the same page. The chemistry between us is off the charts.”

“Exactly. And it’s keeping me from even looking at another man. I’m not at all sure how to fix that.”

Through the closed studio windows, Rafe heard the dogs barking and JR’s voice. Thank God for the shuttered blinds. He’d been so hot for Jillian, he hadn’t even thought about privacy.

Hadn’t thought, period. He shook his head in disbelief. But then, the same thing had happened the first time they’d kissed. With one big difference—today had been more intense.

His cell phone rang. He slid it from his hip pocket and glanced at the screen. “It’s Adam. I’m supposed to be at his place, to help install a new shower. One of the many things he wants done before Sam and William move in this summer. Excuse me.”

Jillian nodded and showed her back to him while she fastened her bra. Rafe also turned away, giving her privacy.

“Hey, Adam. I lost track of the time. I’ll be over shortly.” He disconnected.

When he faced her again, she’d smoothed her T-shirt into place and buttoned her jeans. She looked as if nothing had happened—if you didn’t count her flushed skin and kiss-swollen lips.

Beautiful and passionate. Irresistible.

Unable to keep his hands off her, Rafe brushed her silky-soft hair from her face, his hungry fingers lingering on the delicate shells of her ears. Her eyes went soft again, and her lips parted, testing his willpower to the max.

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Look, I don’t want to mess with your plans to find a guy who shares your dreams for the future. We probably shouldn’t see each other anymore, especially not alone. I’m not saying we should go out of our way to avoid each other, but if we are together, we’d best make sure other people are around.”

“Agreed.” Jillian squared her shoulders and opened the door.

As they stepped into the sunlight, JR’s eyes widened. Rafe gave him a terse nod, unpenned Calvin, then beat a hasty retreat out of there.

Chapter Ten

‡

“I
n the almost three weeks since I was last here, Georgia sure has grown,” Jillian marveled, gazing at the infant nursing at her mother’s breast.

“She’s gained almost two pounds and a third of an inch in length,” Shannon proudly shared. “Which puts her in the eighty-fifth percentile for all babies her age.” She smoothed her hand over the little round head. “Isn’t she something?”

Her tender smile tugged at Jillian’s heart and made her want a baby of her own all the more.

“That’s some sigh,” Shannon said. “The second you walked in, I sensed something was off. What’s wrong?”

“You know me so well.” Jillian crossed her legs and laced her fingers in her lap. Eager to spill her troubles, she got right to the point. “It’s Rafe.”

“Hunky firefighter Rafe? The one who isn’t your type?” Shannon arched her eyebrows.

“All right. I’m attracted to him. That doesn’t mean he’s the man for me. Although he’s such a great guy. I mean, he got JR a job.” On the phone last week, she’d told Shannon about her brother’s temporary employment and had shared that she’d given him a deadline to move out. “This is his first day at work, and he actually whistled as he left this morning.”

“That’s a nice change. Back to you and Rafe. You were saying he’s not the man for you, but…” Her eyebrows arched in question.

“There’s some other stuff.”

“Such as?”

“We have this amazing chemistry.” Jillian’s cheeks grew warm, and she knew she was blushing.

“You two are having sex? Get out of town!”

“Actually, no, but we have discussed it.” Last week, after engaging in some of the most arousing foreplay of Jillian’s life. Since then, despite continually reminding herself Rafe was all wrong for her, her longing for him had only grown.

“We both agreed it shouldn’t happen,” she explained. “From now on, we’re going to avoid each other, but if, for some reason, we happen to meet, we’ll make sure other people are around. Because when the two of us are alone together…” Searching for the right way to describe the intense feelings between them, Jillian paused. “It’s dangerous.”

“The attraction is that strong?”

Miserable, Jillian nodded. “More powerful than anything else I’ve experienced.”

“You’re not exactly jumping for joy. Maybe you don’t want to stay away from him.”

“No, but if I’m going to find a man who wants to settle down and start a family, it’s for the best. May I burp Georgia?”

“Be my guest.” While Jillian coaxed out a burp, the conversation focused on the infant.

Then Shannon changed her diaper and laid her in the crib. As soon as Jillian and her friend returned to the living room, Shannon picked up where they’d left off. “When you talk about Rafe, your whole face changes. Are you in love with him?”

Over the past week, Jillian had mulled over that very question. “I can’t afford to fall for him, Shannon. It’s lust. I think.” She laughed without a shred of humor. “How’s that for a confusing answer?”

“You sound mixed-up, all right. Speaking of sex, my doctor says Asher and I have to wait a few more weeks before we can have it again. Asher is getting antsy, but between my stitches and feeding this little peanut every three hours, making love isn’t exactly a priority right now.”

“Well, I fantasize about it with Rafe all the time.” Jillian had even enjoyed a few feverish dreams. “I wish I could stop thinking about him. He’s getting in the way of finding my Mr. Right.”

Shannon gave her a searching look. “Would it be so terrible to indulge yourself without falling for him? You know, to get him out of your system. Then you’ll be able to move on.”

“Hmm…” Jillian considered that. Since breaking up with Doug, she’d been involved with several men, without losing her heart to any of them. “That’s tempting, but Rafe and I haven’t spoken since we agreed to steer clear of each other a week ago.” Seven whole days of aching for him. “For all I know, he’s already moved on.”

“There’s only one way to find out—ask the man.”

“Chase after him? That’s not my style. If he’s moved on, I’m going to do the same.”

*

Wednesday dawned cool and sunny, perfect for working outside. After lunch, Rafe drove toward his property. JR and Zach had started clearing the site of his future home this morning, and he wanted a visual of their progress.

Zach’s shiny red truck, easily identified by the white Zach’s Tree and Root Removal ad on the door, sat parked in the dirt area closest to the property. After parking the Beemer beside it and grabbing three cans of chilled pop from the passenger seat, Rafe strode down the hill. Trees blocked his view of the work area, but he heard the buzz of the chainsaw and smelled the scent of freshly cut wood.

Abruptly, the noise cut off. Zach called out words Rafe couldn’t make out, and a loud crash shattered the brief silence and shook the ground. Moments later, Rafe found Zach and JR standing near the fifteen-foot ginkgo they’d felled. Both men wore safety glasses and heavy gloves. Zach, shorter and stockier than JR and a good thirty years older, pointed the chainsaw at the prone tree and said something, his ponytailed hair swishing across his back.

“How’s it going?” Rafe called out, handing each man a pop.

“Not bad.” Zach opened his drink. “Thanks, man.”

“Yeah, thanks.” JR mopped the sweat from his face with the hem of his T-shirt then touched the icy can to his forehead. “This is hard work.”

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” Zach drawled. “We’re only halfway through the first day.”

In contrast to JR, the older man had barely broken a sweat. Rafe figured the kid could benefit from using some of the mental tools his father had taught him. “Okay if I borrow JR for a minute?” he asked.

“No problem.” Zach drained his pop and then crumpled the empty can in his hand. “Toss this for me, JR. I’m going to start cutting up that gingko.”

After JR deposited the can in a trash bag, Rafe gestured at a relatively level patch of grass. “Let’s sit.” He waited until they were both on the ground before he spoke again. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah.” Wearing a suspicious frown, JR eyed him. “Why?”

“No reason.”

“Did Jill ask you to check on me?” JR tipped up his head back and guzzled the stuff.

Rafe hadn’t seen or spoken to her in days—for all the good that did. He thought about her constantly. Being with her, talking and teasing each other, fooling around… She drove him nuts.

“No,” he said gruffly. “But you do seem tired. I know a trick or two that can help. Have you heard of mindful observation?”

“Mindful what?”

The chainsaw roared into action, and Rafe had to raise his voice over the noise. “Observation. It’s a technique my father taught me. When the going gets tough and you want to quit—”

“Who said anything about quitting?”

Talk about a hair-trigger defensive attitude. “I’m trying to tell you about the power of mindful observation. I use it whenever I want to quit before I should. Say I’m running and my legs are killing me and my brain is screaming at me to forget running and walk instead. The first thing I do is notice those feelings. Then I focus on something else—my heartbeat, my breathing, the rhythm of my footsteps. When done right, I can push through the pain and stop thinking about giving up.”

JR listened intently. “Does that really work?”

“Now it does, but it took practice a lot to get here. If you want to try the technique, I’ll give you some pointers.”

The kid glanced at the ground. “Maybe later.”

He wasn’t interested. Having been there himself, Rafe understood. “Say the word, and we’ll practice. Anytime.”

JR shrugged and finished his drink. He needed to go help Zach, but, first, Rafe needed information.

“Did Chelsea get the job she applied for?” he asked.

“We don’t think so. It’s been a week, and she hasn’t heard anything.”

“That’s too bad,” Rafe said, knowing Jillian wanted them both working and in their own place.

“Chelsea’s going to help Jill at the art fair next month. She’ll earn a little money. My sister’s been working like a crazed woman. She says she needs to make even more pottery, but she already has too many pieces to fit in her car. She had to ask a friend to drive her and her stuff to the Medford Fairgrounds in his pickup.”

At the thought of some guy interested enough in Jillian to drive her a hundred eighty miles round-trip, Rafe’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t want to get involved with her himself, but he didn’t want anyone else to, either. Go figure.

He schooled his expression into indifference. “Which friend is that?”

“A guy named Miller. She buys her clay and glazes from him.”

“Are they dating?”

“Nah, they’re only friends.” JR’s eyes took on a canny gleam. “You’re interested in my sister. I saw the way you stared at her when you two came out of her studio last week.”