Night After Night (15 page)

When he’d won her a prize at one of the midway games, she’d been so excited she’d given him a hug, and it hadn’t escaped her notice that he’d held her longer than necessary or that his hands had
accidentally
brushed over the curve of her bottom before letting her go.

The incident, along with the heat of desire darkening his eyes, had brought on a rush of awareness she hadn’t been able to shake since. And she was beginning to wonder if she even wanted to. Dangerous thoughts, considering they had no future together.

Determined not to allow any negative energy to ruin her time with Noah, she glanced down at the cute stuffed pink orangutan with the words
Be Mine
stitched on its soft belly sitting on her lap. “By the way, thanks again for my orangutan,” she said, fingering one of the fuzzy ears. “I love it.”

“It was my pleasure.” He took his eyes off the road for a second to grin at her. “It wouldn’t be right if I took you to a circus and didn’t win you a stuffed animal.”

“Well, it’s not as though it was
that
difficult,” she drawled, giving him a hard time. “You were a basketball star in high school and college, and you chose the Hoop Shot game. Of course you’re going to make every shot and win the best stuffed animals.”

He placed a hand on his chest and feigned a wounded look. “Man, you’re killing my fragile ego.”

Amused laughter escaped her. “From what I can see, there’s plenty more where that came from.” The man had male arrogance to spare.

He didn’t argue. Instead, he turned his gaze back to the road. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah,” she said, just as her stomach gave a growl of agreement. “After those nachos, popcorn, and cotton candy, I’m hungry for
real
food.”

“How does Italian sound?” Noah asked as he turned off of the main Strip and headed toward the outskirts of Las Vegas.

“Sounds fantastic. Where are we going for dinner?” she asked curiously.

“My place,” he said, his tone casual.

His reply surprised her. She would have thought he’d try to impress her by taking her to a fancy, high-dollar restaurant. But a quiet dinner, without having to worry about people watching her or fans approaching her for a photo opportunity or autograph, was more her style. But then again, there was the flip side of being completely alone with Noah at his house and just how tempting that had the potential to be.

“Are you going to cook dinner for me?” she asked. Now
that
would definitely impress her.

He cast her a lazy grin. “I’d love to say yes, but I had my mother make up a dish of her baked ziti with mini-meatballs and it’s waiting for us in the refrigerator to heat up for dinner.”

“Oh, my God. That sounds
amazing.
” Her mouth nearly salivated at the mention of the savory home-cooked meal. “I love your mother’s baked ziti and meatballs.”

“I know,” he said, and winked at Jessica.

She shook her head, shocked that he’d remembered something so simple. Not to mention the forethought that had gone into arranging their date and dinner. “Everything today was so well planned, including my favorite dinner. How did you manage that?”

He shrugged as if it were no big deal. “When I heard the radio station promoting the auction for a date with you, I set everything up ahead of time.”

There was that self-confidence again, and she had to admit he wore it well. “You were
that
certain you’d win,” she said, her comment more of a statement than a question.

“I was,” he said, his tone unapologetic.

She hugged the soft orangutan to her chest, feeling oddly special that Noah had gone to such great lengths to make her happy today. “Well, if I haven’t already said it, thank you for the generous donation. It’ll go a long way in making a lot of kids at the hospital very happy.”

He made another turn into a middle-class residential area and slowed his vehicle when he saw kids playing on one of the sidewalks. A little boy waved at Noah as he drove by, and he gave a friendly wave back. “I know you founded Wishes Are Forever, but do you spend time at the hospital with the kids?”

“When I have the time. Usually in between touring, like now,” she told him, wondering how much he knew of her foundation, and her career, too. “The foundation keeps me informed of the various wishes, which I have to approve, and I also like to be involved with the setup of the wishes as much as possible. The kids deserve a bit of happiness in their sick lives.”

“Well, it’s a noble cause.” He pulled into a driveway and cut the engine. “Here we are.”

She glanced out the passenger window at his two-story house, taking in the well-maintained appearance and beautifully landscaped front yard, which told her he took a lot of pride in where he lived. The neighborhood was far from ostentatious, but there was a warmth and charm about the area that she really liked. It was the kind of place a couple could raise a family and be a part of a community—which was something that Jessica had always secretly wanted for herself.

She followed him up the walkway and into the house, finding the inside just as cozy and inviting. Decorated in shades of beige and hunter green throughout, with oak trim and leather furnishings, the place had a definite masculine vibe. He led her into the spacious kitchen, where he gave her the task of making a salad while he prepared the garlic cheese bread to go with the pasta dish.

While she pulled the lettuce and other veggies out of the refrigerator, he put the ziti into the oven to heat, then poured each of them a glass of red Zinfandel.

“Thank you,” she said, and took a sip of her wine before asking, “So, does your mother know who she made this ziti for?”

Noah came up beside Jessica where she was standing at the granite island chopping lettuce and set a loaf of bread, grated cheese, and a garlic butter spread on the counter. “Of course I told her. I’ve never asked her to specifically make it for me before. She was curious
why,
and I wasn’t going to lie.”

Jessica winced and took another gulp of Zinfandel before focusing on cutting up the tomatoes. “I’ll bet she hates me, just like you do.”

He stopped spreading the garlic butter on a slice of bread. “She doesn’t hate you…and neither do I, Jessica,” he said softly.

She tossed the tomato slices into the glass salad bowl and started in on a cucumber. “You had an odd way of showing it the other night,” she said, forcing a wry note into her voice. She didn’t even know why she made the comment, because it really shouldn’t have mattered how he’d treated her a few nights ago at Taboo.

But it
did
matter, and she hated that it made any difference at all.

Sighing, he placed the bread on a baking sheet, added the shredded cheese, and turned to face her, his expression sincere. “Look, I know I acted like a jerk at the nightclub, but seeing you again after so many years, with so much left unsaid between us, it brought up
old
anger.” He reached out and ran the back of his fingers along her cheek, the touch so gentle and caring. “There’s still a level of hurt there, because I have no idea what I did wrong, but I loved you too much at one time to ever hate you.”

He
had
changed his behavior toward her, and she swallowed the emotional lump that had jammed in her throat. She glanced away before she did something incredibly stupid…like throw herself into his arms and beg his forgiveness.

Picking up her glass, she took another drink of her wine, realizing that she’d already consumed the entire amount he’d poured. Then she pasted on a bright smile. “Well, at least you’ve moved on, right?” She nearly groaned as the idiotic words slipped out of her mouth. Why would she ask such a thing when she really didn’t want to know the answer?

He moved around her to put the bread in the oven to toast, then returned to her side with the bottle of Zinfandel and refilled her glass. “If you’re asking about having relationships with women, sure, I’ve had a few over the years, but nothing lasting,” he said as he began setting the small dining table with plates and silverware.

She tossed the salad with Italian dressing and placed it on the table before returning to the kitchen, where he was checking the pasta dish. “What, you just haven’t found the right woman?” God, could she get any more clichéd?

“No, I found her.” He turned to face her, his eyes a startling shade of brown. “Once, a long time ago. I thought I was going to get married, have a big family with her, grow old with her.”

The emotion that swelled within her was almost suffocating in its intensity, because she’d wanted those things, too, until a cruel twist of fate had changed everything.

She looked away and decided the best thing to do was not respond to his comment. After such a wonderful day with each other, the last thing she wanted was a discussion about the past to ruin what was left of the evening and their time together.

He didn’t push the issue, either, which she appreciated. The timer on the oven buzzed, announcing that the ziti and cheese bread was done, and they put the rest of the food on the table and sat down to eat.

She wasn’t as hungry as she’d been an hour ago, but she scooped up a nice amount of the baked ziti onto her plate, along with some salad and bread. And once she started eating and Noah steered the conversation toward his family and bringing her up-to-date on his parents and siblings, her appetite, and cheerful disposition, returned.

Until he unwittingly brought up another touchy subject she had no wish to broach.

“How’s your mother these days?” he asked, his tone conversational as he finished off a piece of garlic cheese bread.

Jessica set her fork down on her plate and wiped her mouth with her napkin. Judging by the genuine interest in his gaze, he obviously had no idea just how unpleasant this particular topic still was for her—that the years that had passed had done absolutely nothing to mend the volatile mother–daughter relationship that had started way before her father’s fatal heart attack.

“Honestly, I have no idea how my mother is,” Jessica replied, and took a drink of her Zinfandel.

Noah tipped his head, a slight frown creasing his brows. “You don’t talk to her?”

“No.” And it was no big loss to Jessica. Not after the horrible accusations her mother had made against her right before she’d kicked Jessica out of the house that summer she’d graduated. The day her mother’s much younger boyfriend had ruthlessly raped her and Cheryl Morgan had walked in on them just as he’d finished.

Of course, Cheryl chose to believe that Jessica had seduced her boyfriend in an attempt to take yet another thing away from her mother, and the asshole who’d assaulted her insisted that’s exactly what had happened.

That day had changed Jessica’s life forever, in so many ways. She’d lost the innocence she’d only ever shared with Noah. She’d been cast out of the only home she’d ever known. And, most devastating, she’d been stripped of the ability to ever have a family of her own. The family she’d dreamed of having with Noah.

Realizing that Noah was studying her too intently, Jessica glanced at her wineglass, watching as her fingers absently stroked the crystal stem as she gathered her composure.

Finally, she spoke. “The last time I saw my mother was three years ago, when she came to one of my concerts, made her way backstage afterward, and asked for money because she’d blown through every cent my father had left her, including the money she’d received from his half-a-million-dollar life-insurance policy.”

“Nice,” Noah drawled sarcastically. “I guess some things never change.”

When Jessica and Noah had been dating, he’d been the one person other than Zoe whom she’d confided in about just how difficult things had been between herself and her mother, so he knew all about Cheryl’s erratic and unstable personality. “I’d expect nothing less from her,” Jessica said, unable to keep the note of disgust from her voice. “And she didn’t take it too well when I told her that she’d never see a dime from me, then had security escort her out of the building, along with the message that if she ever approached me again I’d have a restraining order put out against her.”

“I don’t blame you.”

Jessica appreciated Noah’s comment and his understanding. Ever since the moment she had been conceived, it had been her mother’s intent to use her as a pawn to coerce marriage to the wealthy man Cheryl had deliberately captivated and charmed. As a stripper in one of Vegas’s upscale gentlemen’s clubs, she had seen the older-by-twenty-years Liam Morgan as her meal ticket, but what she’d never anticipated was the strong, unbreakable bond between daughter and father. Jessica had been a daddy’s girl, the light of her father’s life, and her mother’s jealousy over their close relationship had made her bitter and vindictive toward Jessica.

The marriage between Cheryl and Liam was far from a love match, and while Jessica’s father took care of Cheryl and bought her whatever she wanted, it was never enough. She’d had affairs that her husband had turned a blind eye to, because he refused to divorce Cheryl, fearing she’d demand full custody of Jessica out of spite and that he’d rarely, if ever, see her and not wanting to take that risk. Liam had put Jessica’s welfare above his own happiness and always made sure she felt loved and secure, and she’d been devastated when he’d died.

Her mother couldn’t have been happier. Within days, every trace of her husband had been erased from the house and Cheryl’s current boyfriend had moved in. From there, it had been a revolving door of men in Cheryl’s life, booze and partying, and lavish spending sprees on herself. And those times when Jessica made the mistake of crossing paths with her mother, Cheryl always made sure that Jessica knew how much she despised her.

Yeah, her mother had been a real piece of work. Still was, apparently. Except now Jessica no longer had to put up with Cheryl’s crap.

“Damn,” Noah said, cutting into Jessica’s less-than-pleasant thoughts. “I really am a mood killer tonight, aren’t I?” he asked, seemingly realizing that he’d dredged up bad childhood memories.