Stolen Kisses (18 page)

He propped himself up on his elbow. Jessie was standing in front of the fireplace preparing breakfast. Fleetingly he wondered if she had slept any better than he had. Every hour he had found himself staring at the ceiling. Usually a sound sleeper, he seemed to need reassurance that Jessie was still beside him. Or was it a punishment for asking her to come on this trip?

He always considered Winona Capshaw a ditz, but he couldn’t blame this insanity on his silly neighbor. What had he expected by going camping with two engaged couples—a boys’ and girls’ dormitory? Though he’d apologized to Jessie for his mistake, was he really all that sorry?

Certainly not about an hour ago when he had waked. At first he had thought he was dreaming, but the feel of Jessie in his arms had been too real, too intoxicating. During the hour before dawn, she had turned to him, her head fitting perfectly into the curve of his shoulder. Her palm had been spread over his heart, and for a moment, he had wondered if the rapid beat of his pulse would wake her. She had stayed curled up in his arms like a trusting child while he had gritted his teeth and tried to go back to sleep.

Knowing it was insane to remain in the sleeping bag with the lingering scent of Jessie pulling at his senses, Trevor roughly tossed back the covers. Grabbing up his extra set of clothing, he padded to the bathroom. If he was smart, he’d go take a polar dip in the lake to calm down his body.

“You look like you’re used to cooking for an army,” he remarked ten minutes later as Jessie deftly measured oatmeal in her hand. She dumped the raw oats into the boiling caldron of water and dusted off her hands.

“I’m the oldest in a large family, so I guess you can say I am used to cooking for an army, though I’m a little out of practice,” she answered easily, revealing to him that she didn’t remember those precious minutes before dawn. She looked about ten years old with her hair in a ponytail and very little makeup. “I also used to sub in the kitchen when I was waitressing my way through college.”

“I remember now, the picture on the table. How many kids were there?” He joined her at the worktable as she began slicing melons. Faintly he could hear the others stirring behind them, and it disappointed him. This was probably the only time he would have alone with Jessie for the rest of the day.

“The final count was ten,” she answered shortly, seeming much more interested in the melon.

He was intrigued. For some reason he’d pictured her as an only child, a pampered little girl carefully taught the very precise manners that made her seem so regal. He wanted to know more. “Wasn’t your father a farmer?”

She looked up then, her blue eyes dark and troubled. For a moment she hesitated, then apparently came to a decision. “He was a bigamist.”

The word hung between them. He didn’t know what to say. What did anyone say in response to such a statement? Words of sympathy would sound hollow, since he had no way of knowing the turmoil she had gone through.

“How old were you when you found out?” he found himself asking, and knew he surprised her by the way her eyes widened before she bent over the melons again.

“I was twelve. My mother had an emergency appendectomy.” Her voice was so low that he had to bend his head to catch the words. “Daddy was a traveling salesman with a company that was headquartered in Chattanooga. I called the main office and a man there gave me a phone number to call in Knoxville. The woman who answered the phone said she was Mrs. DeLord, and she would be glad to take a message for her husband.”

“Damn.”

“That’s sort of how I felt at the time,” Jessie murmured. “It really can’t be much worse than when your mother died. How old were you, Trevor?”

“I was eight.” He remembered his sense of betrayal and loss when the woman he thought of as a smiling angel was taken away from him. At least he had good memories to sustain him over the years. All Jessie had was the betrayal. Now he understood her list for a prospective husband. She was trying to avoid a second disaster in her life.

“What happened?” He couldn’t let it drop. He knew that talking about it was important to both of them.

“When Mother recovered she contacted the other wife in Knoxville. We were living outside Jackson in a house that belonged to my grandparents.” Jessie moved back to the fireplace, working automatically as she told the story. “Mama and Aunt Lena, as we came to call her, pooled their small reserves of money and hired a lawyer. After Daddy went to jail, we all moved in together. My family with four kids and the other with six. It’s probably the best thing my father had ever done for us. He died six months after he was paroled.” Jessie stirred the oatmeal methodically then took a deep breath and continued. “It was nice to have two adults around, and more sisters. I’d been outnumbered three to one before, and it evened out the odds.”

“Hey, is breakfast about ready? All this fresh air makes me ravenous.”

At that moment Trevor wanted to dump the entire pot of oatmeal on Winona’s tousled curls. Then he saw Jessie’s slight smile and relaxed. This new harmony between them hadn’t been shattered. He had to learn to curb his impatience. Which, he acknowledged ruefully, is what had caused all his trouble in the first place. They had the rest of the weekend, and beyond. Didn’t they?

“Come on, Wendy, sing us another one,” Jessie called across the campfire they’d built down by the lake. The fishermen had been triumphant, claiming that the trout had been so happy to see them that they had almost jumped into the boat. Dinner had been a feast of fried fish with all the fixings.

After some good-natured bickering, the men had grudgingly cleaned up. Winona had rewarded their efforts by producing marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate bars for dessert. She also conned the men into toasting the marshmallows, claiming that it was man’s work.

Jessie settled back against her rock, licking the last remnants of gooey marshmallow and melted chocolate from her fingers. “Did you really learn that song at scout camp?”

“Are you kidding?” Wendy had become more talkative as the day had progressed. “That little ditty was from my summers in Branson at Silver Dollar City. I danced and sang my way through college.”

“Lucky you. I worked as a waitress forever to get my sister and me through college,” Jessie returned, trying to pretend she didn’t see Trevor dropping down beside her. His hip brushed against hers as he settled into place, but she kept her eyes trained on the fire in front of them.

“Both of you?” Winona and Wendy asked together.

“We went in pairs, each one working to help the other. Betsy and I were the oldest,” Jessie explained, not bothering to mention they hadn’t started college until their mid-twenties.

“Well, I don’t know about you folks, but all this exercise and fresh air has made me really sleepy,” Griff announced before pouncing on Winona, who squealed in delight at his attack.

“That’s subtle, Alexander,” Nolan called from the other side of the fire, where Wendy was snuggled close to his side. “I think I need to take a walk before turning in. Don’t you think so, sweetheart?”

“Definitely,” she said, unable to contain her giggle. Jessie wasn’t sure what to do. If Winona and Griff wanted some time alone, she couldn’t go back to the shelter. She shivered against the cool night breeze. Next to her, Trevor was incredibly still and quiet. Helplessly she watched the two couples scramble to their feet.

“We’ll take care of the fire,” Trevor announced suddenly, almost making Jessie squeak in surprise. “Y’all take the supplies up, and we’ll be all set.”

“The man has no romance in his soul, making me carry garbage,” Griff grumbled good-naturedly as they gathered up the picnic basket, cooking supplies, and trash bags.

“I do, too,” Trevor countered. “I’m getting someone else to carry the garbage, aren’t I?”

As the others disappeared into the trees, Jessie tried not to react nervously. She was a rational adult who didn’t think Trevor was going to pounce on her the minute the others were out of sight. Of course he wasn’t. They would simply sit here and have a nice, quiet talk.

“Boo!”

Jessie shrieked and would have jumped to her feet if Trevor hadn’t caught her by the shoulders. Her breathing labored and her heart leaping into her throat, she turned on him and pummeled his chest with her fists. “Are you crazy?”

“No, I just wanted to get all this skittishness out of the way,” he explained matter-of-factly, his hands anchored firmly on her shoulders. “You’ve fidgeted from the moment you realized we were going to be alone together. Now we can relax and just sit here and quietly talk.”

Jessie shook her head in wonder. She didn’t think she was going to understand this man in a million years, but she realized that he’d done exactly the right thing. All her reservations seemed to have melted away abruptly. The tension miraculously lifted, and Trevor immediately sensed it. His hands gently squeezed her shoulders.

It seemed natural a few minutes later when he turned her and settled her back against his chest, his arms linked around her waist. “Tell me about growing up with ten kids in the family. I thought four was a madhouse. Ten must have been murder.”

She responded to his gentle demand, talking easily about her family for the first time in years. Telling him about her father that morning had released something inside, letting her face her ghosts, as Gina would say. She talked about the good times and the bad.

It was a perfect night, she decided with a contented sigh, listening in turn to Trevor talk about his childhood. The sky was clear with hundreds of stars twinkling overhead, sparkling in the lake along with the half moon. The cool breeze wasn’t a bother as long as she was sitting next to the fire with Trevor’s arms keeping her warm. Tonight was a time that she wanted to capture in a bottle. She could snare the beauty of the moment and take it out later to luxuriate in the magic again and again. It was a special night; she didn’t have to think about yesterday or tomorrow, only the moment.

Chapter Nine

Jessie didn’t want the moment to end. She felt lethargic, floating on a cloud of sensations, hot and forbidden. Threading her fingers through the silky substance of Trevor’s hair, she encouraged him to deepen their kiss. He was the source of her languor, making her blood flow like warm molasses to the heated core of her yearning.

His skin felt like roughened velvet as she trailed her fingers over his chest and arms. She couldn’t get close enough to assuage the burning need that he kindled with his clever fingers and drugging kisses. Parting her lips, she allowed him to plunder the secret depth, beginning an exploration of her own that could take forever. She was a smoldering ember that he was bringing to life, fanning her internal heat. Any minute she would burst into flame.

Twining her arms around his waist she moved closer, but not close enough. With restless movements, she tried to show him what she wanted, what they needed. To appease the aching hunger simmering low in her abdomen, she rubbed against the hard length pressing between her legs. She couldn’t contain her purr of satisfaction.

“Hey, rise and shine, everybody! The sun’s a’wastin’.” Jessie’s eyes snapped open, meeting the passion-glazed brown eyes directly below hers. For a moment she was disoriented, then reality came crashing into focus. She was lying on top of Trevor, not merely resting, but with her body clinging and molding to his contours.

Nolan was the one who had given the morning call, she realized, but didn’t dare look around to see who else was up.

Suddenly everything went dark. She reached out automatically for something stationary, an anchor in the unknown. Her wandering fingers encountered warm, taut flesh. “Jessie, please be still for a moment.”

Trevor’s hoarse plea froze her in place once more. Her mind and body were now fully awake. He had pulled the sleeping bag over their entwined bodies, out of sight of the others. Unfortunately it only alleviated one of their problems. She was still draped across his chest with her legs tangled intimately with his. The slick perspiration between their bodies told her that they had been clasped together for some time. With the two of them trapped under the down covering, the heat was intensifying. The darkness magnified her sense of touch, making her all too aware of every inch of their bodies pressed together in the confined space.

“Come on out, y’all. We got more fish to catch today.” It was apparent that Nolan was having trouble suppressing the amusement in his voice, making Jessie want to wear the sleeping bag over her head for the rest of the trip. “You, too, Griff and Winona. Let’s get crackin’.”

“Jessie, just slide very carefully over to your left,” Trevor whispered, his hands resting lightly at her waist. His hands touched bare skin, making Jessie all too aware that her nightshirt had ridden up.

“Okay, here I go,” she managed to croak. Desperately, she tried to remember what had been reality and what had been fantasy. Her troubled thoughts were the least of her worries as she awkwardly attempted to maneuver across the disturbing body beneath hers. A moment later she was on her side of the bed, wondering if the groan of relief had been hers or Trevor’s.

She huddled under the shield of the sleeping bag while Trevor got up. Her senses went back into overdrive at the sight of his sweat pants riding low on his hips before he hiked them back in place and tightened the drawstring. Had she untied it during the night? She could feel her cheeks flame at the thought.