Authors: Susan Fox
Body Heat (27 page)
Fact was, he liked Maura. More than he’d ever liked another woman. She liked him, too. She’d shared personal thoughts and shared her body. She wouldn’t give either one lightly. And he didn’t take them that way.
She was special, and he wasn’t going to let her stupid rules get in the way. Of course he didn’t want to cost her a job or a promotion, and he sure didn’t want to end up in jail, either. But it was no one else’s business what the two of them did in their free time.
They could see each other, and no one at Cherry Lane needed to know anything about it.
Maybe she’d have thought things over, too, and come to the same conclusion. If not, he’d persuade her.
Charged up, he parked in the parking lot, hooked his helmet on the handlebar beside the spare one Maura had worn last night, and strode toward the door.
Inside, he walked straight past that nasty receptionist, Nedda, and down the hall to Maura’s office.
When he stepped through the door, she was at her computer. Her hair was more tightly pinned than ever, and she wore the gray shirt he’d first seen her in. Even so, she was stunning.
He’d stripped her naked, kissed far too few inches of her naked body, and made love to her. Looking at her now, it would’ve been hard to believe, but for the color that flooded her cheeks when she saw him.
“Jesse.” Her voice squeaked.
He wanted to pull her into his arms, tug the pins from her hair, unbutton that shirt, feel her melt into him. “Hi, Maura.” He closed the door behind him and walked toward her.
She jerked to her feet, and he saw she was wearing her gray pants as well. Rather than come to meet him, she stood behind her desk, hands flat on it, arms rigid like they were bracing her. “No, don’t close the door.”
He stopped.
She wasn’t smiling; in fact, her face was strained and almost fearful. Her arms looked like two bars she’d erected to keep him away. “There’s nothing more to say,” she said stiffly. “We resolved things last night.” Her voice lowered on the last two words so that he could barely hear them.
Shit. “No, we didn’t.” Again, he started toward her. If he touched her, just to stroke her cheek or take her hand, she’d soften.
She held up a hand. “Jesse, no. Didn’t you hear me last night?”
“Yeah, but I thought it over. We can keep seeing each other, and no one here needs to know.”
Her taut face softened. “You want to keep seeing me?” She said it almost like it surprised her.
“Hell, yeah.”
Her lips trembled in a half-smile. “That’s really nice.” Then they straightened. “But we can’t,” she said firmly. “There’s too much at stake. And, Jesse, I don’t like dishonesty.”
Dishonesty? “You mean not telling people? That’s not lying. It’s none of their business. Personal, like you said last night.”
She winced. “I was talking about a motorcycle ride. And I know you don’t see any difference between that and sex . . .” She paused.
Personal was personal. Bike ride, lovemaking, whatever. He shrugged.
Her chin firmed. “But I do.”
“I don’t get it.”
“I realize that,” she said, sounding annoyed. “But I’m the acting HR manager, responsible for supervising you. Cherry Lane’s Board of Directors would see all sorts of potential problems if you and I, uh, have sex.”
At least she wasn’t saying she’d hated the sex or that he wasn’t good enough for her. “Having sex wouldn’t affect how we do our jobs.”
She tilted her head and studied him for a long moment. “No. Maybe it wouldn’t. But it’s still not right. And speaking of work, we both need to get back to it.”
He’d run out of arguments and thought best when his hands were busy. Later, when the place was quiet and evening had settled, he’d come back and try again. “Okay, but this isn’t over, Maura.”
Sad-eyed, she said, “It has to be. But I hope we can still be . . .” She trailed off.
“What? Friends?”
She nodded, looking tentative.
Hell, he wanted a lot more from her than that. “We’ll see,” he growled, and strode away to the garden.
Chapter 15
J
esse had just started work setting the prefab pond into the hole he’d dug, when Fred Dykstra showed up. The older guy was smart, so Jesse said, “You’ve got all this hostage negotiation experience.” Maura’d be pissed if he shared their secret, so he kept things general. “Got any techniques for persuading somebody who’s got the wrong idea in their head?”
esse had just started work setting the prefab pond into the hole he’d dug, when Fred Dykstra showed up. The older guy was smart, so Jesse said, “You’ve got all this hostage negotiation experience.” Maura’d be pissed if he shared their secret, so he kept things general. “Got any techniques for persuading somebody who’s got the wrong idea in their head?”
The corner of the elderly man’s mouth twitched. “Well, I’m guessing to them it may not seem wrong.”
“Yeah. So how do you make them see sense?”
Another twitch, a moment’s reflection. “You told me about that lady with the little dog.”
“Mrs. Wolchuk?” How did she come into this?
“Most folks would say the sensible thing would be for her to sell her ramshackle house before the roof falls in on her, and move here. Right?”
“I guess. But she’s got that dog, and she loves the house.”
Fred smiled. “You see her side of things. That’s the first step in any negotiation. If you tell someone what they should do, they get their back up. You need to understand their side and let them know you understand.”
“Huh. I guess that makes sense.”
“And have you heard of the term ‘subtlety’?” Fred’s mouth was twitching again.
“You’re saying I shouldn’t be too, uh . . .”
“Heavy-handed in your approach?” He nodded. “Especially if you’re dealing with the fairer sex. Which I’m guessing you are.”
“Maybe.”
“Their logic is sometimes different than ours, and they make decisions with their hearts, not just their brains.”
Not Maura. She was so determined to be in control, to be professional. But she did have feelings. She’d shown him her vulnerable side, talking about her adoptive parents, and even about that stupid Cindy woman and the silly reunion.
Maura wanted a date, and she wanted to be friends with him. Jesse sure wasn’t a champagne kind of guy, he didn’t even own a suit, and a high school reunion sounded like sheer hell. But caring about someone meant that you did stuff you didn’t really want to, just to make them happy. Con and Juanito had taught him that.
“Sorry?” He realized Fred had said something that he’d missed.
“Just wished you good luck. Hope you work things out with this special woman of yours.”
Special woman? Had he told Fred that? Now his own lips twitched. “Guess you were pretty good at your job.”
“Guess I was.”
Maura stayed out of the garden that evening but couldn’t resist frequent peeks out the window. A number of seniors were out there chatting with Jesse and each other, but he kept working steadily.
He’d installed the ugly black plasticky-looking pond, and she tried to picture the final effect the way he’d described it to her. Rocks casually placed, a miniature waterfall, and a pebbly shore at one end. Ornamental grasses, a leafy red Japanese maple, and lovely pink water lilies. Orange and gold koi swimming around. It amazed her that he could make all that happen.
She’d never been good with her hands. Never been a physical person.
Except in her fantasies, and last night under the stars . . .
No, she wouldn’t let herself drift off into another fantasy. At home in bed, maybe, but not at work. She shouldn’t allow herself to be distracted by the man. Even though they’d had sex. Amazing, world-shaking, multi-orgasmic—
No, she had to stop thinking about it. What mattered was whether he’d agree they could be friends. Jesse wasn’t a man who thought of women only as sex objects; he’d been close friends with Consuela for years. He saw her like a sister, and she was gorgeous and sexy. It should be easy for him to view Maura platonically—which was what she wanted, so why did the idea hurt?
And could she ever look at him without wanting him?
She’d have to learn.
When he climbed through her office window at the end of the evening and sprawled in one of the vinyl chairs like he belonged there, it wasn’t with a mere friend’s eyes that she appreciated the masculinity of his craggy features. The ripple of muscles when he lifted an arm to brush tousled hair back from his face. Not to mention the power of his jean-clad thighs and the seductive bulge beneath his fly. She’d cupped that bulge last night, felt him harden under her touch.
Last night, he’d been inside her. For real, not just in a fantasy. Her body heated and moistened, and it was all she could do to keep from squirming.
She cleared her throat. Not having the nerve to come right out and ask how he felt about being friends, she figured she’d just see how things went. “You’ve made good progress tonight.”
“Thanks. By the way, Virginia asked if she could come to the nursery this weekend, when we go to buy the maple tree and pond plants. What do you think? Is that one of your liability things?” He actually sounded serious, not as if he was mocking her.
“No. We do take the seniors on outings in the van. Our insurance covers that.” She smiled at him. “But thanks for thinking of that, and for checking with me.”
“Guess I’m learning,” he said wryly, making her chuckle. “She said her daughter’s family’s coming for a visit,” he said. “That’ll be nice for her.”
“It will. Her daughter’s a writer, her son-in-law’s a foreign diplomat, and they travel a lot. They stay in touch regularly with e-mail and Skype, but Virginia doesn’t get to see them often.”
“Too bad.”
“It is. But Virginia says, you raise your children with love and effort and hope, then you set them free to chart their own course through life.”
“Bet she was a good mother.”
“I’m sure of it.” Their gazes met across her desk, and she knew they were both wishing they’d had a mom like Virginia. Immediately, she felt guilty. Agnes had done her best, and Maura owed her so much.
“Lucky kids,” he said in his gravelly voice, “the ones who get born to the right parents.”
She nodded. “Parents like you and I would at least know some of the mistakes to avoid.” Then, realizing what she’d said, Maura clapped her hands to her cheeks. “I didn’t mean . . .” The two of them together, having a baby—a cute little hell-raiser of a boy, or a spunky little girl . . . No, of course not. Surely he knew that.
“I mean,” she hurried on, “if you get married to someone and have kids, and if I get married to someone . . .” She broke off as his eyebrows rose higher and higher.
“Didn’t figure you were proposing,” he said, an edge to his voice. “Not when you won’t even go out with me.”
Actions have consequences,
her parents had taught her
. Always consider those consequences before you act
. She couldn’t risk her job on a short-term thing, which was all it could ever be. Likely, she intrigued Jesse because she was different from the women he usually dated, but the novelty would wear off quickly. Perhaps it was the same for her. He’d no more fit into her life than she would in his.
her parents had taught her
. Always consider those consequences before you act
. She couldn’t risk her job on a short-term thing, which was all it could ever be. Likely, she intrigued Jesse because she was different from the women he usually dated, but the novelty would wear off quickly. Perhaps it was the same for her. He’d no more fit into her life than she would in his.
She decided not to re-open the discussion of whether they should see each other. Her decision was made. Instead, she said, “As for marriage, I don’t see you doing that any day soon.” Not only was he a player, but he was young, a fact that she’d noted in his file. “You’re only twenty-seven.”
He shrugged, looking uncomfortable for some reason. “A person’s as old as they feel, as old as they act.”
She took a breath. If she hoped to be his friend, she should be honest. “I’m thirty, and I look and feel all of it.” Even down to that newly awakened sexuality.
“Hmm.” He studied her appraisingly, a twinkle gleaming in his eyes. “I dunno what thirty’s supposed to look like but . . .”
Unwise to ask, but she couldn’t stop herself. “But what?”
“Seems to me, it’s a pretty good year.”
She flushed. “Well, thanks.”
“And I’m almost twenty-
eight,
” he said firmly, as if that fact mattered.
eight,
” he said firmly, as if that fact mattered.
She’d mentioned his age, called him young. Did he think she figured he was immature?
Did she? She pondered that for a moment. Physically, Jesse Blue was most definitely a man. She flicked a glance through her eyelashes, to verify that fact. Oh, yes, he was the most “man” she’d ever met, not to mention the hottest, most virile, sexiest, most tempting—
Aagh!
She took a deep breath and tried to slow her racing pulse.
She took a deep breath and tried to slow her racing pulse.
As for his work, he was as skilled and responsible as anyone she’d ever seen. Being able to conceive of a garden landscape and implement it was thoroughly impressive. When it came to dealing with the seniors, he was respectful and considerate. Yes, even if Jesse had some opinions that troubled her, such as his disrespect for the rules, there was no question he was mature.
“I wouldn’t mind being twenty-eight again,” she mused. “Thirty seems like such a big number. It feels like suddenly things are supposed to change.”
“Such as?”
“Oh, well.” Why did this always happen? She found herself revealing more to Jesse than she really intended. “Like, I should have a more impressive job, not let my education go to waste. And my parents think it’s time I got married.”
“Do you?”
“Not unless I find the right man. I’d never get married just for the sake of being married. I like my own company.”
“I like your company, too.” He said it simply, without a teasing grin or mischievous twinkle in his eye to turn it into something suggestive, and that made the compliment even more special.
She realized that he’d accepted her offer of friendship, and her heart warmed. “Thank you. I like yours. Strange as it seems, given how different we are, I feel like I can be myself with you.” More than she could with her adoptive parents, in fact. How very peculiar that the person she felt most comfortable with in so many ways was also the one who made her tingle from just being in the same room.
His smile widened. “I hope so.”
They sat in silence for a minute or two, one on either side of her desk. Oddly, the silence didn’t feel awkward. Or, at least, it didn’t if she kept her mind off sex, which was, admittedly, difficult to do in his presence.
“So,” he said quietly, “you got a date lined up for that reunion thing? Did you take pity on that lecture guy?”
A strange question, yet it did kind of flow from what they’d been saying, about marriage and finding the right man. She wrinkled her nose. Look at her. She couldn’t even find the right man for one night, much less a lifetime. “Not yet. I can’t decide whether it’s better to go with Edward or go alone. I keep hoping . . . oh, that my appendix will burst or something.”
He gave a surprised hoot of laughter, and she found herself chuckling along with him.
“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you,” he said, and they both laughed again.
Then he said, “I wondered,” just as she started out, “Have you,” and they both broke off. “You first,” he said.
“Have you gone to a high school reunion, Jesse, or hasn’t your class had one yet?”
His face sobered instantaneously. He stared at her for a long minute.
For some reason, she felt tension in the silent air between them.
Then he said, “Don’t have a class.”
“What do you mean?”
“Didn’t graduate high school.” He flung it out like a challenge.
“You’re kidding.” Yes, he’d been in foster homes, had a tough upbringing, but in this day and age, surely everyone at least finished high school.
He shook his head.
Oh, my. She’d known they were different, but had no idea how huge that difference was. “But a high school education is so important. Your job opportunities will be so limited.” No wonder he worked jobs like construction; he had no other options. The man had so much potential; it was a darned shame to waste it.
He shrugged. “Whatever.” His leg jiggled up and down restlessly.
“I know you were shuffled around to different foster homes,” she said, thinking it through. “And you don’t like books.”
His leg jiggled faster.
“I’m sure you didn’t like being cooped up in a classroom. I can see why you’d have dropped out. But Jesse, you’re twenty-seven.” Mature, she’d thought a few minutes earlier. “Why on earth didn’t you get your GED?”
He rose to his feet and glared at her. She’d often thought of him as an animal, a panther or a lion, and he was definitely one now—one full of barely caged anger. “Why do you think? Because I’m a fucking idiot!” He turned on his heel and stalked out.
When she managed to close her gaping mouth, she said, “You are not!” But he was already out the door.
Too stunned to follow, she slumped back in her chair. After a few minutes, she realized she was shaking her head. Jesse wasn’t an idiot. He was organized in how he approached tasks, he had a flawless memory, and he could do calculations in his head. He was a creative landscaper and he’d drawn an accurate, beautiful sketch of the courtyard garden. When he chose to, he could be perceptive and sensitive in dealing with people. He most definitely wasn’t stupid.
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