Switched, Bothered and Bewildered (27 page)

Her hair smelled as sweet as apricots. He breathed her scent in and leaned his cheek against her head. They were both fresh from a shower—a very interesting shower, and dressed in clean clothes.

He liked having her against him in their favorite rickety lounge chair. She sipped a glass of white wine they'd bought together. He'd been teaching her about cooking, and she'd been teaching him about wine.

Carly had gone up to pack and get some sleep. He thought it was a great idea for her to go see her mom. It sounded like a fresh start would be a good thing for them. The fire took the night chill off so well that Jillian pushed the blanket off her shoulders and used him for a pillow. He and Jillian

were such night owls these days, trying to squeeze as many hours as they could into the time they had left.

"Comfortable?" he whispered to her.

"Very," she answered. "Thank you for teaching me how to relax, Dean."

"My pleasure. I learned it the hard way myself, as you know."

"Do you miss building ten houses at once and being the big boss?"

"No. I don't miss the person I was then. I found a good outlet with sculpture."

"You
are
good with your hands." She snuggled against him. "When do I get to see your place, Dean? We've been so focused on this house I can't believe I haven't made you take me up on your hill."

"Let's get Carly to the airport and see where we end up."

"What? No plan? No schedule?"

"Shocking, isn't it?" he reached for his own wineglass and leaned over for a sip. They unbalanced a bit, and he shifted back level, wrapping his arms protectively around her. They fell into a silence he loved. He loved to sit by the fire and have her next to him. He loved the way she was finally letting herself be in present time.

All her worries were about what was going to happen,
 
what might
 
occur—all
 
future based.

He'd tried to show her that, and somehow, after days of unraveling her tightly wound defenses, he'd succeeded.

Now she could feel what it was like to watch the fire flicker in the moonlight and hear the lapping of the waves against the bulkhead. There was a rhythm to all of that, and it could take you to a very good headspace.

But against his own best advice, Dean was having a whole lot of thoughts about Jillian's leaving on Friday. Future thoughts. Would he ever see her again? Should he go to the city and continue this adventure? What would happen to them in her world?

He felt the pain of loss. The loss of moments like these. She was an amazing woman. Her mind was sharp, her body made him ache for her, and her responsiveness to him made it hard to concentrate on getting normal things done. He knew that would wear off or at least reach a more normal level later, but right now it was glorious.

Unfortunately, he had to go home tonight and leave this happy scene. God, how he was going to miss her.

He thought about Trina and the aching emptiness he'd had after she died. One of the reasons he hadn't taken Jillian to his house was this odd sense of her stepping into Trina's territory. But now he wanted nothing more than to bring the two parts of his life together and have Jillian in his

space, sweeping the old memories away like the whirlwind that she was. He could keep Trina in a special place in his heart forever.

He sat back and closed his eyes. He didn't want to let Jillian go.

¹⁵

Swap, in the Name of Love

Gloria Kissinger paced the hall between Bret Sears's cubicle and her own. Now that the goods had been delivered, where was the fallout? Where was the shouting match between Jackson and the fake Jillian Tompkins? Where was the great scene of fake Jillian packing her bags and being booted out of her fancy office, along with the real one? Where was the memo advertising for a new comptroller for Pitman Toys?

Surely Jackson wasn't as dense as to not put two and two together? She snorted a laugh to herself;
two and two together.
Good one. Twins humor.

Gloria crossed her arms and huffed. Maybe he
was
that dense. After all, men thought with their little brains, not their big ones. She'd just have to make it clearer to him.

Every girl in the office knew that when her time was up with Jackson, there'd be no getting by Olga Reyes. She guarded the gate to Jackson's office like a lioness and knew a lame excuse from ten paces away.

Gloria would just have to think of a
good
excuse. She'd find her moment.

Carly was coming to San Francisco! Jana Lee felt like Christmas. She should go out and buy her a present and wrap it in pretty girl wrap. Or maybe they'd go shopping together for some fancy San Francisco clothes. Of course Carly would have to be able to use them for school in the fall.

Always the practical mother, wasn't she? Jana Lee poured herself a cup of hot tea and sat back behind her sister's desk.

She was marking time by half-hour increments now. Seven o'clock couldn't come soon enough. But now that she'd put the wheels in motion to have Carly brought here, she started to work herself into a snit about the entire thing. What would her daughter think of her being here and lying like this? What kind of an example would that be?

A bad example. Sure, she'd had good motives, but so what if she'd done it out of pity for her sister? It was one thing to talk to Carly about this whole switch thing on the phone, and another to have her here in the middle of it. Maybe this wasn't the best idea.

But she missed her. Her mother's instincts had kicked in, and she felt like her daughter should be here with her. She'd had this sort of tickle in her mind about something just not being right, and if Carly was here with her, that would take care of one part of her worry. A fifteen-year-old on the loose in the summer with a rogue aunt had definite potential for disaster.

Jana Lee remembered visiting Uncle Cyril and Aunt Doreen in Medford, Oregon. She and her sister were about seventeen. When she thought of that summer, the faint memory of her first taste of gin always wafted back to her. All summer they'd hung around the Holiday Inn hotel swimming pool where Doreen had tended bar. Doreen had let her drink gin and tonic on the rocks when no one had been looking. Jana Lee remembered how she'd fallen madly in love with a cute boy named Terry Kjornes, who was all of nineteen at the time.

Of course Jillian had fallen madly in love with him too, but Terry had picked her, something Jana Lee had been extremely grateful for. She'd been so grateful that she'd let him go all the way with her in the backseat of his car on a dark, hot summer night.

Jana Lee felt a little smile turn the corners of her mouth upward. It was good that her memory of that moment was forever linked with a great guy

like that. She probably should have married that boy; he was one of the nicest boys she'd ever met, and the most
amazing
kisser.

How different her life would have been if Terry Kjornes had ridden up to Seabridge, Washington, in his red GTO and insisted they get married. That was the summer that Cyndi Lauper kept singing "Time After Time" on the radio.
Lovesick
was what she'd been that summer. Until fall—then she'd stopped writing him and gotten back to her regular high school life. He'd gradually stopped writing her, too.

Which just goes to show you that aunts weren't always the best babysitters.

And hey, she might be
lovesick
about Jackson, but come the fall, she'd find a job and get back to her old life.

She sipped her hot tea, which she'd stirred into submission, and thought about that. Find a job. She liked that idea. But what in the world would she do in Seabridge? She'd have to go to the city to get a job with any future. And that would leave her daughter parentless in those evening hours.

She couldn't picture that. It wasn't what she wanted for Carly. But maybe she didn't have a choice. She could just take a low-level job in town until Carly graduated from high school. She slurped the rest of her tea down and looked at the clock. Tick tick tick. She could hardly wait until

she saw her daughter. She had so much to talk to her about.

She could show Carly the design department. Her daughter would love that. Carly would like the drawing boards and ideas pasted up all over the walls. Jana Lee liked the way the place was cluttered with ideas. Sometimes it was nice to be surrounded with colorful inspiration.

On the other hand, she could really see why Jillian liked her soothingly minimal office and home. The whole less-is-more thing was working. She felt very relaxed at Jillian's apartment, with nothing out of place. Carly would be interested in the art pieces Jillian had collected, and the guest room was very comfortable—Jana Lee knew because she'd slept in it over the weekend, watching two late movies on the TV in there, since Jillian didn't have a television in her bedroom.

Jana Lee picked up her teacup and returned it to the tray across the room, by her very cool tea station. She should make herself useful for the rest of the day so she'd stop thinking about Carly's arrival every minute.

In her attempts to be more "Jillian like" she'd scrounged a tight-fitting beige skirt and a fresh white tailored blouse out of the closet. It was a good thing the white blouse had a stretch element to it; otherwise she would have burst a button. The skirt did too, but not enough to make up

for her more ample rear end and waist. She shimmied it down a touch and undid the top button by the zipper. It would hold, and no one would be the wiser. The side benefit was she could breathe.

Jana Lee smoothed back her new perky short hair and glanced in the pretty mirror Ollie had hung up for her. A little lipstick wouldn't hurt, but none of that red stuff of Jillian's. It came off on her teeth. A nice melon color would work. She opened the cupboard and grabbed her own makeup bag.

Before she could smooth her Moody Melon on, the intercom made some really static sound that made her jump out of her skin, like a radio without a station. Then her office door flew open. Not creaked, not slid, not even glided. It flung. The door actually hit the doorstop on the wall and bounced.

Jackson Hawks was on the other side of that door, with fire in his eyes. Jana Lee truly considered fainting, since she was going to anyway. But she wasn't a fainter. Moms didn't faint.

"What?"
she yelled.

He looked for a moment as if he wasn't sure what words to choose. Then, instead of speaking, he strode directly over to her and took her by the shoulders. She dropped her Moody Melon lipstick, and it rolled away.

Jackson grabbed her up like he was going to tango. All she needed was a red rose in her teeth.

He backed her up against the counter, tipped her chin with his hand and stared into her eyes.

"I love you, that's what, I
love
you."

Then he kissed her hard. He didn't stop either; he kissed her like he didn't notice she'd put her arms around his neck and was kissing him back. Somewhere in the fog of reality Jana Lee heard the quiet click of the office door closing. Bless Oliver. And as for Jackson, as far as she was concerned,
bring it on.

Jackson ran his hand down her neck and kissed the flesh revealed by her open blouse. There was a ripping sound, and the first button of the blouse popped violently across the room. Wow, great angle.

It must have shocked him for a split second. He jerked back, then seemed to take that button as a sign. He slid his mouth lower, over the ample top of her breast, which seemed to be straining in the too-tight bra she'd borrowed. She gasped as if she'd been dipped in hot wax when he reached up and freed her breast from the brassiere in one quick movement; when his mouth covered her, she made a very unusual sound. It was the sound of complete, unrestrained pleasure sizzling through her body.

She also heard the quick ripping sound of her skirt zipper splitting open. The skirt slipped off and hit the floor without Jackson's help at all. *
   
*
   
*

How nice of her skirt to depart. It must be fate. There she was in pink bikini panties and pink high heels. Just like he'd imagined. Just a blouse and some bits of silk left to toy with.

He felt a smile cross his lips, and he kissed her surprised mouth. Her eyes were as wide as full blue moons, staring right at him. He glanced up from teasing her breast with his thumb and saw her become even more aroused.

Actually, it was sexy to have her watching him touch her. He felt the slippery silk of her panties and ran his hands across her full backside. She was so, so sexy. But this counter was all wrong.

He picked her up in his arms and carried her over to the desk. Jackson perched her on the edge, reached behind her and swept the contents of the desk onto the floor with a crash.

He needed room. He'd come in here to straighten a few things out between them. And Jackson was determined to straighten them out
all
the way this time.

And much to his delight, she wasn't arguing anymore. She had her arms around his neck, and he kissed her all over those soft lips of hers, soft as a summer peach. He slowly unbuttoned the rest of her blouse and let the heat of his mouth scorch the silky tips of her nipples, first one, then the other. Her head leaned back, and a moan rolled over her that he could actually feel. He flicked the back of her bra, and it fell off. Her bareness was stunning.