One Day in Apple Grove (13 page)

“Jack,” she rasped. When he didn’t answer her, she cleared her throat and tried again to be heard. “Jack?”

“Caitlin,” he whispered, letting his forehead rest against hers. “You destroy me.”

Laughter caught her by surprise. Feeling loose, she gave in to it, chuckling softly. “Last time I checked, you weren’t the one screaming my name while you came apart in my arms.”

He raised his head and stared down at her. “True enough. Want to do something about that?”

“Oh yeah,” she said as the strength surged back into her arms and legs. She pushed him until he fell onto his back on the couch and straddled his hips. “My turn.” Taking her time, she trailed the tip of her tongue along the clean, strong line of his jaw, teasing the underside of it as she settled herself firmly against his growing erection. “Someone’s already warmed up.”

The dark and desperate desire in his eyes had her squirming, wishing she’d thought to step out of her jeans before her assault. “I think we’re overdressed.”

“Wait,” he said, stilling her movement with a hand to her thigh, before closing his eyes.

She stared down at him as he opened his eyes and an emotion she wasn’t used to filled her, threatening to drag her under.

“Don’t stop touching me, Cait.”

The tender way he said her name had need coursing through her again. She began to explore his torso with her lips, teeth, and tongue. Tiny flicks of her tongue were followed up by nips of her teeth, testing the strength of his pecs and the firmness of his abs. She wiggled lower, so she could twist and flick her tongue beneath the waistband of his jeans. She felt the heat of him and remembered that the dog had shredded his boxers…was he commando beneath his jeans?

She hadn’t realized she asked the question out loud until she heard his raspy chuckle. “Only you would ask me that now.” He pulled her back up his body and cupped her face in his hands, wordlessly urging her to stop as he lifted her away from temptation.

“I didn’t get to go beneath the equator—you can’t either,” he told her. “Unless you don’t intend to play fair.”

Instead of answering him, she slid off the couch so she had a better angle to tease him from. “You’re delicious,” she said, blowing softly across the taut skin of his abdomen before teasing it again with the tip of her tongue.

“God, Cait…I can’t wait.”

She sat back on her heels and met his gaze. “Then don’t.”

“Are you sure?” He sat up and pushed off the couch, so he could pull her to her feet.

When she was in his arms, she shivered at the feel of his hot skin pressed against her breasts. “Thinking about what it would be like to make love with you has been making me crazy too” she confessed. “Besides, now that I’ve tasted you, there’s no going back. You’re addictive.”

“You go to my head like a shot of whiskey.” Easing back from her, he unsnapped his jeans and hesitated. “Cait, there’s something I forgot to tell you.”

“Is it important?”

“To me.”

“OK,” she said. “Tell me.”

He drew in a breath before beginning, “I was injured over in Iraq.”

“I know,” Cait said. “We were so worried when we found out you’d been hurt and broken your leg. That’s why you were limping the day you chased Jamie into my arms, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but that’s not the extent of what happened,” he rasped. Their eyes met and held. “An IED exploded, broke my leg, and filled it with shrapnel.”

Tears filled her eyes as the thought of him being in so much pain speared through her. “You must have been in agony.”

He brushed at the first tear that fell. “I was…it still bothers me.”

“All the time, or when the weather changes?”

Before he could answer her, she added, “Mr. Weatherbee’s always complaining that he can tell when a storm’s coming because the wrist he broke as a kid starts to hurt.”

He brushed his thumb along the curve of her cheek and then the fullness of her bottom lip. “There’s something you need to know.”

“Oh Lord, is there still shrapnel in your leg?”

“Legs,” he corrected. “Some, not as much as there used to be. It took a couple of operations to remove the worst of it.”

“But didn’t I hear you and my brother-in-law talking about running together?”

“Yeah.”

“How can you run if it still hurts?”

“I run early in the day when my leg is strong. After standing most of the day, it bothers me.”

Looking at the way he frowned, she urged him to sit. “You should rest.” Worry for him was eating her alive. “Do you need an aspirin? Glass of water?”

“Cait, please!” he said, tugging until she stopped trying to force him to sit on the couch. “I wanted to tell you about the scars before you saw them.”

“Oh, OK.”

He paused and then whispered, “They’re hideous.”

She wanted to throw her hands up in the air but knew that was too dramatic, and she didn’t want him to think she was flippant when he was baring his soul to her. Finally, she shrugged, and said, “They’re scars. They’re not supposed to be pretty.”

He opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again and shook his head.

“What?” she demanded, starting to get ticked. Was he was worried she’d bail if she saw his scars? “Did you really think I’d change my mind about making love with you once I saw your scars?”

“Others have.”

“Well, I have news for you, Jackie boy,” she bit out. “I’m not like anyone else.”

“Amen to that,” he said.

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Not on your life, babe,” he said, kissing her until her toes curled and her head felt light. “I just wanted to prepare you before you saw them, but you got to my head so fast, I forgot until it was almost too late.”

Taking back control, she needed to show him, without words, how she felt. She pushed out of his arms, flipped open the snap of her jeans, and shimmied them over her hips and let them fall to the floor. “I’ve got scars on both knees from falling on them so often as a kid. It’s why I don’t wear skirts too often unless they come below the knee.”

He started to speak, but she held up her hand. “And here,” she said, pointing to her right side, “is the scar I have from when they took out my appendix.” Before he could respond, she lifted the braid off the back of her neck and turned so he could see. “And here is where I fell on a rock when I was a kid. Knocked me out cold and bled like crazy…don’t remember how many stitches that took to close it up. But my dad turns green if I try to ask him, so I just let it go.”

“Cait,” he said quietly—twice before she answered him.

“What?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

She threw her arms around him and nearly died with pleasure feeling the brush of his crisp chest hair against her breasts, and the bulge behind his zipper, but it was the wild beat of his heart that had her asking, “So will you trust me with your scars, since I showed you mine?”

He leaned his forehead against hers, drew in a breath, eased back, and unzipped his jeans. Pausing with his hands hooked in the waistband, he was undone by the tender look on Cait’s face…it encouraged him. He shoved his pants down his legs and kicked them aside.

Cait held her hand out to him, beckoning him.

Could
she
see
the
mass
of
scars, riddling his leg, pinching the skin where it should be smooth?
He held his breath.

She stepped closer and locked gazes with him as she trailed the tips of her fingers along his shoulders, then down his torso, stopping at his hips.

Before he could guess her intention, she knelt and pressed her mouth to the middle of his thigh and the tangled web of scar tissue.

His breath whooshed out and his head felt light as her tongue traced the meandering path, the sunburst pattern—the reminder of the agonizing day he tried to put behind him.

He thought she’d stop there and wasn’t prepared when her tongue detoured to his hipbone across to his navel, where she dipped her tongue in before retreating back to his scarred leg.

“Cait.” Her name was a prayer, a benediction. The tender way she included his scars in their lovemaking made him feel almost normal—almost.

He bent down and urged her to stand. Heart to heart, he nestled between her legs and let her feel what her mouth did to him. Tipping her head back, she lifted her lips and was rewarded by a toe-tingling, mind-bending, air-stealing kiss that rocked her world.

When he shifted his handhold to beneath her backside, she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist. “Am I too heavy?”

“No. Kiss me, Cait.”

She tangled her tongue with his before remembering her earlier worry. “Do you have any condoms?”

“I’m a doctor, Cait. I have everything we need.” He slid his hand between them and brought her to peak with his clever fingers.

Her head dropped back and he kissed her before easing her onto the sofa. “Don’t move,” he told her.

She was about to argue with him, when he pointed a finger at her until she agreed. While she watched, he bent down and pulled a foil packet out of the back pocket of his jeans, stood, and covered himself. When he was fully sheathed, he knelt above her on the sofa and slowly lowered himself, teasing her with the tip of his erection.

“Jack,” she moaned. “Please, don’t tease me.”

He took her at her word and slowly slid into her. When they were joined, heart pressed to heart, he closed his eyes and let his body take over. She met him thrust for thrust, marveling at his stamina.

“Jack, I can’t—”

“I think you can,” he ground out.

She closed her eyes as the orgasm stole her breath. When she had gathered her strength, she lifted her hips and pistoned them against him, lifting up off the couch, hanging on to his taut backside with both hands. “Your turn, Jack.”

When he slowed his movements, she pressed her lips to the side of his neck and kissed him before biting the tender skin there. Her love bite had him moaning in pleasure, so she moved to another spot and kissed, then nipped twice more. She could feel the change coming over him as he stiffened and moaned out her name.

But instead of going with the moment as she’d thought he would, he bent to take her breast in his mouth, whipping her to peak so they rode the crest together, crashing on the other side.

“I can’t feel my legs,” Caitlin whispered, but she wasn’t worried. “But you’re a doctor, so you can probably fix me, right?”

His laughter caught her by surprise. “What’s so funny?” She trailed the tips of her fingers along the firm muscles of his back. It was hard to work up any temper when she felt so loose, so limber, so happy being in love. Meg was right—she loved Jack.

When he kept laughing and didn’t answer her, she nipped his shoulder to get his attention.

He braced his hands on the couch and pushed back, his biceps taut from holding his weight off of her. The strength in his upper body reminded her of the way he’d held back so she’d find fulfillment first.
A
generous
lover
.

When he smiled down at her, she felt all warm and gooey inside. “You’re so beautiful.”

His smile turned to one that reeked of satisfied male. “Not even half as beautiful as you,” he rasped, bracing his weight on one arm to smooth a strand of hair out of her eyes.

Her belly clutched and fresh need sprinted through her. “If the other ladies in town knew how talented you are—” she began, only to close her mouth at his frown.

“You planning on taking out an ad in the
Gazette
?”

She let her finger slide over his breastbone and down to his navel. “Maybe,” she admitted. “But then everyone would want a turn and you’d be too tired to make love with me.”

He was chuckling as he lay back down and shifted so she was on top. “I’m too heavy for you.”

“You felt just right,” she said, leaning down to press her lips to his chin. “And for the record, I’m not telling anyone how talented you are because I want to keep you all to myself.”

“Is that a promise?”

She leaned back and made an X over her heart. “Promise.”

“Works for me,” he said. “Now about that talent…”

***

Jack woke when a cold wet nose pressed against his side. “Hey, boy.” When Jamie whined, he shifted a sleeping Caitlin onto her side and got up to let the dog out.

After Jamie peed, Jack opened the door and nearly walked into Caitlin. “Whoa,” he said, steadying her. “What’s wrong?”

“I woke up when I got chilly.” Brushing a hand over his shoulder, she smiled and his heart tumbled further toward love. “Did we scar him for life?”

He chuckled at her reference to making love in front of the dog. “I think he’s impressed by my mad skills.”

Her delighted laughter wrapped around his heart, tugging him the rest of the way into love. “I wish you could stay the night.”

Jack pulled her against him and reveled in the feel of her whisper-soft skin slowly heating against his. “I love the way you feel in my arms. If I talk to your father, do you think he’d let you stay?”

“So his darling daughter could engage in another mind-boggling bout of heart-stopping sex?”

He chuckled even though he tried to be stern. “I thought we made love?”

Her eyes softened. “We did, and it was amazing.”

He had to agree. “But we need—”

“To get going,” she finished for him. “I know.” She looked him in the eye and tried to frown as she said, “Someone told my dad he’d give me a ride home.”

With a sigh of frustrated regret, he released her. “The last thing I want to do is give your dad a reason to doubt my word.”

“Hmmm…I guess so. Hey, do you think he thinks we’re playing canasta?”

Jack just shook his head. “I hate to burst your bubble, babe, but I don’t think so.” He looked down at Jamie and asked, “You want to go for a ride?” Jamie bounced up and down before settling down when Jack told him to sit.

“Can I go too?” Caitlin asked, brushing up against him again, skin to skin teasing him to the point of madness.

“Quit teasing me,” he grumbled. “I’ve got to take you home, woman.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Come on,” he urged. “Go get dressed.”

She paused in the doorway. “Aren’t you coming?”

He shook his head at her. “If I go with you, one of us will definitely be coming, but then we’ll be late.”

Her eyes darkened to forest green and he fought against the need to grab her, toss her over his shoulder, and sprint for the stairs. He wanted her in his house, in his bed…in his life. But it was too soon to tell her without her wondering if it was just great sex talking, wasn’t it? They’d been drawn together because of Jamie, but the sparks and tension between them had been there from the first, tempting him.

Finally, she dragged her feet, but left the room and returned dressed.

“OK, my turn,” he said, easing past her so they didn’t touch. If they did, he wouldn’t be able to keep from grabbing her and burying his face in her hair, then one thing would lead to another, and they’d end up where they both wanted to be—his bed.

When they were finally ready, he grabbed Jamie’s leash. “Ready to go for a ride, boy?”

Once they had the dog clipped to his leash, they walked out the back door. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to sleep tonight,” she confessed. “I’ll be thinking of you, wishing you were there beside me.”

They got in the car and his hands clenched the wheel, desperate to touch the woman who’d turned him inside out, knowing if he did, he’d yank on the wheel, pull a one-eighty, and head back to his house. Yep, he’d lock the door and keep her.

As they drove along Eden Church Road, she talked to the dog as if she expected him to answer. Much to Jack’s surprise, the dog barked or whined in response to Cait’s questions. He chuckled until he realized he was in way over his head.
Could
she
be
real? Did his scars only bother him?
He needed Cait in his life, not just in his bed. All he had to do was convince her.

Cait was watching him out of the corner of her eye.

“What?” he asked.

“You have a great laugh.”

When he didn’t say anything, she nuzzled the top of Jamie’s head. “Has Sheriff Wallace heard from anyone yet?”

“No,” Jack said with a glance at Jamie. “Looks like this guy is here to stay.”

“Good,” Cait said.

Jack echoed that sentiment. “I’m used to having him in my life…it would too quiet without him.”

She agreed. “It’s become part of my routine, stopping by a few times a day to make sure he’s all right. He’s always ready with a happy bark and busy tongue.” They fell into a comfortable silence as he turned onto Peat Moss Road. “My dad really liked him.”

He grinned. “What’s not to like?” He patted Jamie on the top of his head. “He’s a great dog.”

“Are you both going to walk me to the door?”

Jamie barked and Jack laughed. “Sorry, boy, not this time.” One at a time, they slipped out so Jamie didn’t escape. They walked hand in hand to the door and Jamie started to howl.

Jack’s lips brushed gently against her cheek before capturing her lips in a silky-sweet kiss. “Dream of me, Caitlin.”

She rested a hand on his chest as she eased out of his embrace and pushed away from him, feeling the chill after so much warmth. “I already do.” She squeezed his hand and added, “Miss me, OK?”

Jamie’s entire body wagged as he leaned on the top edge of the passenger door and barked. Caitlin smiled. “Keep an eye on him for me, boy.”

She watched them leave and, in a moment of painful insight, knew that the ache she felt now was not even one-tenth of the ache a military wife would feel watching her man as he prepared to deploy.

Had Jack had someone all those years ago whom he hated to leave behind? Had he broken anyone’s heart here in town? She didn’t understand her need to find out but knew she’d be asking Meg. Her sister would know.

Letting herself in, she shut off the light on the stove. Halfway to her room, she remembered they’d be getting an early start and walked to the bathroom instead. The hot water soothed tired muscles and a few aches that had her smiling, remembering how she’d earned them. Squeaky clean, wearing her favorite sleep shirt, she slipped beneath the covers. Lying in bed, she stared at her ceiling, glad that she never painted over the fluffy clouds and rainbows her mother had painted there years before. It made her feel closer to her mom. Meg liked to go to the cemetery to talk to their mom, and Grace, hmmm…she had no idea what Grace did to remember their mom.

Shifting to her side, she wondered what Jack and Jamie were doing right then. Probably snuggling up in bed together.
Maybe
next
time, we can make love in his bed
.

She closed her eyes as thoughts of Jack and his tender kisses filled her heart, giving her something lovely to think about as she drifted off to sleep.

***

“Cait!” a deep voice called out, rousing her from a deep sleep. “Coffee’s ready!”

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she wished for just five minutes more. “If I ask him, he’ll start the water treatment.”

Then again, a few more precious minutes to dream about Jack might be worth having ice-cold water flicked in her face until she woke up, but that was guaranteed to make her dad grumpy. He was doing her a huge favor helping out at Johnson’s barn, so she dragged herself out of bed. She finger combed her hair, rebraided it, and got dressed.

Her dad was at the stove frying bacon. He looked over his shoulder as she walked into the kitchen. “Hungry?”

“Always.”

Knowing his routine, Cait opened the fridge and got out four eggs, rye bread, and butter. “Scrambled OK?”

He nodded. “Let me drain the pan. No sense having to wash two of them.”

“Amen to that.” She cracked the eggs and whipped them with a fork. “Can you do the toast?”

Her dad nodded. “Got it.”

They worked well together, with an economy of movement that bespoke years of doing so. Plates full, coffee poured, they sat down to eat. Joe took a sip of his coffee and said, “Heard on the weather we’ve got a storm heading our way this afternoon. We need to get that addition framed out and shingled. I’d rather we didn’t have to toss another tarp onto the sheathing up on the roof. It’d be better if it had tar paper and shingles.”

Cait finished her toast and gulped the last of her coffee as he added, “Expecting thirty mile an hour winds with this storm.”

“Then we’d better hit the road, Pop.” Halfway there, she asked, “Are you really worried that we won’t beat the weather?”

Her father parked in Johnson’s driveway and got out. “Less talking, more working, string bean.”

“Jeez, Pop!” He hadn’t called her that in years, but as he’d intended, it felt like a hug so she wouldn’t worry about the coming storm.

They’d pulled out their toolboxes and walked over to the tarped pile of wood by the time Mr. Johnson walked down from the house. “We’ve got weather coming, Joe.”

“Not a problem, Scott. You’ve got my best girl working on it and me as her helper.”

With a nod in her direction, Mr. Johnson said, “I’ll keep an ear out for a change in the report and let you know if I hear anything.”

“Appreciate it,” Joe responded. He asked Cait, “Do you have your measurements?”

“I do, but I’d like to double-check and jot the numbers down.”

Her father grinned. “Measure twice, cut once—that’s my girl.”

By the time they broke for lunch, they had framed out the two new stalls and were ready for the sheathing.

“Hey, Joe!”

Cait and her father looked up as Mr. Johnson came jogging toward them. “They’re calling for dangerous lightning and high winds by five o’clock.”

“Well, Cait, it’s your project. What do you think we should do?”

Cait looked up at the still-blue sky and then at the men standing side by side. “We could work through lunch, but we’ve been on the job since seven this morning. I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. We need to refuel and hydrate so we don’t make a mistake.”

Her dad looked up at the sky and then over at Scott Johnson. “Why don’t I call my son-in-law and see if we can round up a few helpers? He should be getting out of school around two thirty.”

Cait felt relief wash over her. She knew it would be close framing and sheathing before the storm hit; help would ensure that they’d get it shingled as well. “You can’t rush perfection,” she said to Mr. Johnson. “My dad’s got a good plan, and it won’t increase the price. Once a Mulcahy gives his word—” she began.

“He keeps it,” Mr. Johnson finished for her, nodding to her first and her father second. “Go for it. I’ll keep an eye on the storm and bring you updates.”

While she unpacked their lunch boxes, her father shot off a text to Dan. As she was pouring hot coffee out of the thermos, her father grunted and held out his cup. “He’ll be here by quarter of three with two helpers.”

Cait grinned. “Let me guess, Charlie Doyle and Tommy Hawkins?”

Her father held out a cup for her to fill. “Those boys have more than made up for their stupidity, hanging out on that damned railroad bridge.”

“Dan was there to save them, Pop.”

“It was meant, Cait,” he said quietly. “Dan Eagan was supposed to come to Apple Grove, meet your sister, fall in love, and save those two boys. Wonder what else fate has planned for him?”

Cait laughed. “A little girl just like Meg?”

Joe joined in the laughter and said, “You have an evil streak in you, Cait.”

“I wonder where I get that from?”

They were both laughing as Cait cleaned up the garbage and downed the rest of her coffee.

Joe was still smiling as they measured and cut boards for the roof rafters. They were nailing them into place when they heard a car drive up.

“Hey, Joe!” Dan called out as he got out of his car. “Brought help with me.”

Cait watched the way her dad pulled Dan in for a bear hug and felt tears sting her eyes. She sensed he’d be as welcoming to Jack.

“No time for lollygagging around, Caitlin,” her father rumbled. “Come on down here and help me get these boys started working.”

She grinned. “Coming.” Climbing down the ladder, she looked up at her father. “How about if we break down into two teams?”

He nodded. “Ever shingle a roof, Dan?”

“Not yet. I figured I’d be learning how today.”

“Good answer,” Cait said with a smile. “How about you boys?”