One Day in Apple Grove (12 page)

“You and your sisters have been the light of my life for so long.” He shook his head as he got out of the truck. “I wasn’t thinking about dating when Mary and I met for the first cup of coffee at the diner, but now…”

Cait got out and worked with her father unloading the truck bed. “She’s kind, has a nice smile, and must have some other redeeming qualities, or you wouldn’t be stuck on her.”

His head reared up and his eyes flashed a split-second warning that his temper was on the rise. “Who said anything about being stuck?” he grumbled. “I’m not stuck.”

Cait heard the panic in his voice and felt they had something more in common than just good genes and big hearts—fear of taking the next step in a relationship when it mattered. “I didn’t think I was either, but you were right.” Her emerald-bright gaze met his and the look of complete and utter terror faded.

“Jack’s a good man, Cait.”

“I know, but I’m surprised that it took me this long to realize it. Why does that happen?”

“What happen?” he asked, unloading another length of wood and adding it to the growing stack by the side of the barn.

“You pass someone on the street nearly every day of your life, you wave,” she said, lifting another board. When he lifted his end, she continued, “They wave back, and you both smile. But then one day, something changes…maybe it’s the Earth tilting on its axis toward springtime, maybe you’ve just contracted the bubonic plague…maybe he’s been away and finally back home, and you see them—really see them—and you realize you don’t know them at all.”

Her father helped her lift the last of the boards before answering. “It was like that with Mary. We’d known one another all our lives. Her husband was a good man. We went to his wake and funeral, said whatever nonsensical words one says to comfort the bereaved while they numbly nod to you, waiting for the next person in line to do the same.”

Cait brushed her hands on the seat of her jeans and tossed her braid over her shoulder. They pulled the tarp over the wood and placed a rock on it to make sure it wouldn’t blow off.

“It was the week before Bill and Edie’s wedding three years ago that I walked into Murphy’s Market and saw Mary standing in a pool of sunlight. She had her eyes closed and a sweet smile on her face as she lifted it toward the sun.” He cleared his throat as Cait turned the key in the ignition, engaged the clutch, and put it in reverse. “I hadn’t seen a smile like that in fifteen years. After your mom died, I was so wrapped up in grief and trying to raise you girls that I’d forgotten how vibrant a woman looks when she smiles.”

They drove for a bit without speaking until she turned onto Route 13 and asked, “How’d you like to meet Jamie?”

Her dad grinned. “Want to text Jack first and ask him?”

“He might be home by now. His last appointment for the day canceled.”

“How do you know that?”

“He, uh, texted me to let me know and asked if I could stop by.”

“So, you’re really hoping I won’t mind making a detour because you can’t wait to see him?”

She signaled and pulled into Jack’s driveway. “You’ve always been the smartest man I know, Pop.”

He grinned, got out of the truck, and paused. “Any chance of the puppy running out here and jumping on the truck?”

“No, he stays in the backyard or the house. He’s pretty smart for a puppy.”

“Let’s go then.”

Cait raised her hand to knock on the back door when she heard a shout from inside. “Sounds like puppy trouble,” she said with a grin and knocked.

“Get back here, you devil dog!”

Her father chuckled. “I used to have one of those as a kid.”

They heard something crash on the other side of the door, followed by a playful yip. “Maybe Jack can’t hear you over that racket,” her father said. “Try again.”

“Hold on!” There was a muffled curse, another yip, and Jack yanked the door open, saying, “Thank God you’re here, Cait. Can you help me get my boxers—”

***

A dripping Jack tightened his hold on the towel he’d wrapped around his waist before chasing the dog. He looked from Cait to her father and back. “I, uh…come in.”

Joe stared at him but didn’t say anything, while Caitlin called Jamie and damned if the little pup didn’t just trot right over to her and sit, offering his front paw and the now-mangled pair of boxers.

She tossed them to Jack who had to snag them midair before Jamie got another chance to grab them again. “That’s the third pair this week.”

“Don’t you have a hamper?” Joe asked.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t have a padlock on it, and as soon as I get home and grab a shower, he’s in the bathroom with me, pouncing on the damned thing.”

Cait cleared her throat when she realized her father was frowning. “We can wait here with Jamie while you get dressed.”

He felt his face go hot and cursed the fact that, with his pale Irish skin, he was prone to flushing when angry or embarrassed. “Thanks. Be right back.”

He wondered why Cait had decided to bring her father by. If she’d have warned him, he might have shown up wearing more than a towel. Then again, he had thought about ditching the towel because he was expecting Cait, thinking maybe it would help them get past the hesitation they were both feeling. Good thing he hadn’t!

That had him smiling for a moment, but then he realized he’d forgotten about the mass of scars on his left leg…something that never happened before. Caitlin Mulcahy messed with his mind like no other woman.
Had
she
seen? Had Joe? Did it really matter?

By the time he was dressed, he could hear playful growls coming from the kitchen. When he walked in, Joe had one end of Jamie’s rope toy and the puppy had the other, tugging and growling with abandon.

“Thanks for distracting him. He’ll live to see another day.”

Cait walked over and poked him in the middle of his chest, a worried look on her face. “That’s nothing to joke about,” she told him. “If not for us, he might not be here right now.”

“True,” Jack said. “I was just joking. If you’ve never raised a puppy, you might not understand.”

Joe grinned. “There was this coonhound that we had when I was really little, my dad always swore that dog was one beating away from that big hunting ground in the sky.”

Too late, Jack noticed that the worry on Cait’s face morphed into fear. She really didn’t understand. “Your dad’s joking.”

“Oh.” She glanced at her dad, who nodded to reassure her. “OK.”

Jack looked down at Jamie, who was as low as he could go in order to brace himself and pull against Joe, and then up at Cait’s dad, who had a shit-eating grin on his face. It hit him then that Joe needed a dog as badly as Cait did. Too bad Grace was allergic to dogs. With Joe being retired, Jamie could keep him company and ride shotgun all around town in Joe’s truck. Because he could see it, he almost asked, but then something held him back.

Jamie must have just noticed that Jack had come back in the room. He gave a happy bark and jumped up, trying to lick Jack’s face. “Kiss up,” he said, ruffling the dog’s fur. “Down, boy.”

“We’re working on manners,” Cait told her dad.

“You’ve got a ways to go,” Joe told them. “But he’s young yet.”

“Yeah, but he’s a great dog…despite the fact that he has these bad habits of tackling people and tearing apart my laundry.”

Cait’s laugh had him staring at her. When their gazes met, he couldn’t help but wonder if she was as distracted as he was remembering their last kiss and the power of the lure between them. If her father wasn’t here, he would have taken her in his arms and feasted on that tempting mouth of hers. He sighed. He’d have to be patient.

Joe said, “I’ve got to head on home or Gracie will be on my case. She’s cooking dinner tonight.”

“Oh.” Cait’s smile faltered and she said to Jack, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jack tried not to let his disappointment show, but it was work.

“Tell you what,” her dad said, looking from Cait to Jack and back again. “Why don’t you stay here since you two obviously want to spend more time…with the puppy.”

Jack gave the man extra points for saying that with a straight face. “Thanks.”

“Are you sure?” Cait asked.

“See you later.” He opened the back door. “I’m sure Jack won’t mind giving you a ride home. Will you, Jack?”

Jack caught the look that seemed to be both a warning and a blessing. “Not at all.”

Her dad pet Jamie and was gone.

Once they heard the truck start up, he told her, “Your dad’s a great guy.”

“He really likes you, Jack.”

“Good,” he said. “I like him too.”

“About the other night,” Jack said, watching Cait’s face so he could gauge what she was thinking. “Waiting to kiss you again has been hell on Earth. Waiting to take the next step…making love to you has been keeping me up nights…and taking a lot of cold showers.”

His lips hovered a breath above hers while he waited for her to make the next move. His ploy worked when she huffed out a breath, slid her hands around his neck, and pulled him in for a kiss that was just short of carnal.

Lips, teeth, and tongue tangled as the flames of desire burned inside of him, making him desperate to taste the skin at the base of her throat. He thought they were on the same page, but before he let his imagination run away with him, he needed to know that they both wanted the same thing—to spend the next few hours sharing what was inside their hearts without need for words…a press of lips here and slide of skin there. He was breathing hard when he pulled away and held her at arm’s length.

“Was that your answer?”

She smiled and tilted her head to one side. “Do you need me to tell you again?” she asked as she leaned toward him.

He shook his head. “You pack a punch, Mulcahy.” Taking hold of her hand, he said, “Let’s continue our conversation on the couch.”

Her eyes slid from where they stood just inside the kitchen doorway to the low-backed sofa that stretched out along one wall in the living room. “OK.”

This time, she was the one doing the tugging. Pulling him so he fell with her to the cushions. Jamie jumped on top of Jack’s back and began to tug on his jeans. “Down, boy,” he said, gently pushing the dog off the couch.

Jamie hung his head, but Jack’s attention was snagged elsewhere when Caitlin sat up and tugged her T-shirt up and over her head. “God, you’re beautiful.” He reached for her. Pulling her close, he let his mouth feast on her sumptuous skin. “You taste like heaven.”

“Your turn,” she said, tugging on the hem of his shirt. He didn’t hesitate; he let her help him pull it off. “Why are you hiding the fact that you’re totally ripped from the ladies in town?”

He laughed until he felt her hands gliding up his pecs and over his shoulders, strong but tender, in a fluid movement over and over that hypnotized him. “I love the way your hands feel on me.”

Knowing he needed more time to show Cait how he felt about her, he put his hand over hers. “My turn.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t speak, choosing to communicate with a nod, moan, and the undulation of her body.

Hands splayed at the small of her back, he pulled her toward him. She gripped the back of his shoulders for balance.

“I love the way your eyes go cloudy right before I kiss you.” He bent his head and brushed his mouth across hers. “You skin is so soft, except for the hands you use to work hard for a living.” When she would have jerked them off of him, he covered her hands with his and shook his head. “The strength in them turns me on.” Her gaze met his and from the softening in hers, he could tell she understood. “I’m going to touch you, Cait. Will you let me?”

Her sigh of contentment echoed through the living room. Jamie started to whine, but Jack didn’t pay any attention; his every thought, every movement, was concentrated on the woman vibrating beneath his touch.

His fingertips brushed along the length of her shoulders, taking the straps of her bra with them as he swept his hands down to her wrists and then back. When she moaned, he swept them from her hips to beneath her ribs and then back again, before unhooking her bra and letting it fall to the floor.

He repeated the movement again, touching her shoulders, sweeping them down to her wrists, up from her hips to her ribs…and each time he brushed closer to his goal, her delicate breasts. He wanted to feel their weight in his hands as he teased them into readiness for his lips and tongue.

She moaned out his name. “Don’t make me beg—touch me!”

He filled his hands with her soft flesh, caressing and molding her breasts until her breathing became ragged, her eyes closed, and she tilted her head back. Awed by her trust, desperate not to scare her off with the need clawing inside him, he pulled her close and held her to his heart. When her breathing quieted and he was in control once again, he pressed his lips beneath her ear and then followed an invisible line along her collar-bone; when he reached the hollow of her throat, he let his tongue linger.

Her soft moan of pleasure was music to his ears as she leaned back, offering herself to him.

Humbled, Jack vowed to take no more than she gave and to give all he could.

His pulse pounded as he flicked his tongue against the skin at the base of her throat and tasted her salty-sweet essence. His hands skimmed over her neck to waist, breast to belly, again and again until she began to writhe.

“Let me touch you,” she whispered against his neck.

“Not yet.” He stroked the underside of her left breast with his tongue.

Garbled words made a nonsensical sound as he continued his assault on her senses and she gasped for air. Finally, she uttered the word he’d been waiting to hear: “Now!”

Desperate to take, he yanked back on need a second time and took one breast and then the other into his mouth. Suckling her, he feasted, flicking, swirling, licking, and suckling again until she screamed out his name and went limp in his arms.

***

Caitlin couldn’t move. Her heart threatened to pound out of her chest and her arms and legs felt like water.
Oh
my
God
. No one had ever made her spontaneously combust like that before with just his mouth on her neck and breasts.