Ten Acres and Twins (18 page)

Jack stopped kissing her and started running his palms
over the peaks of her breasts. With soft touches, he teased her nipples until she squirmed, and he smiled at her moans.

She loved his tenderness, but she needed something more elemental. She grabbed his hands and pressed them against her breasts, then inhaled a hissing breath when he moved her bra out of the way and swirled his tongue against her skin.

As his body settled on top of hers, the coldness of the floor seeped painfully into her muscles, but she didn't care. It suited her mood. She wanted more of his heat.

“I need you,” she whispered, sliding a hand between them to grasp his arousal, leaving no doubt about what she wanted now.

He groaned and pulled her hand up to kiss it, then moved away to slide off the rest of his clothes. She trembled as she watched, wanting him to hurry back and warm her again with his vibrancy.

In the time he was gone, she hurried to undress, too, and was ready when he knelt beside her. As he covered her body with his, he kissed her once, hard, then backed up slightly to search her eyes. “Are you sure, Abby?”

She nodded. She wouldn't run away this time.

Swiftly and completely, he filled her. She gasped and felt tears dampen her eyes again.

The intimacy was stronger than she remembered. The satisfaction was immediate and intense.

She closed her eyes, sending a few straggling tears down her cheeks as she began to rock with him, welcoming more of his comfort. Soothing more of his sorrow.

This was what she'd needed. To feel this deeply alive.

She moved her hips to his rhythm, clutching his back to keep him close, and never allowing him to slow. His roving kisses warmed her neck and lips, his hot puffs of breath batting against her skin with each growl of approval.

As if they were one, she quickened her pace with his through the sharpening sensations, until she couldn't see or
hear or feel anything except the high, lingering comfort of release.

Then they lay hand in hand on the cellar floor, listening to their breathing slow and staring at the bare white lightbulb above them.

“Jack? Abby? You guys okay down there?”

“We're fine!” Jack hollered, squeezing Abby's hand.

They bounded up together. Jack threw her shirt into her hands and pulled his over his head in practically the same movement. When she had her shirt on, he winked at her.

“I wouldn't bother you,” Sharon hollered again, “but the twins woke up a minute ago, and I couldn't handle both of them and the stove.”

“Be up in a minute,” Abby shouted, responding to Jack with a roll of her eyes and an embarrassed grimace.

He chuckled and kissed her again, softly and sweetly this time. “Did you find the extra jars?”

She pointed to a separate stack of boxes on the shelf, with bold black marker clearly detailing the contents.

He scooped up the rest of their clothes, handing hers to her before pulling his on, and went to grab a box.

“Take your time,” he said on his way to the steps. “I'll make up a story about us ransacking the cellar in search of these strawberries.”

Abby waited to dress until Jack was gone. She needed a few minutes to pull her emotions together. Things had gone further than she had intended, but she felt no regret.

She felt glad.

She stopped in the middle of buttoning her jeans, and sank down on the cellar bench. How was it possible that she could be glad? She'd let herself surrender to a desire she'd resisted from the moment she met Jack four years ago.

No, that was wrong.

She hadn't surrendered this afternoon, she had led the march into battle. And the total rush to oblivion she'd felt down
here could be nothing but a victory. She'd never experienced it before.

She'd always thought her ex-husband was right when he told her she was too controlled to enjoy sex. She'd enjoyed it just now, though.

It was hard to imagine never allowing herself this feeling again. It was hard to imagine even looking at Jack without blushing as pink as a tea rose and wanting to repeat the whole thing over and over.

Now, all her dogged resistance just seemed silly. What had happened was a natural part of life. They were adults.

She tugged the band off her braid and worked her fingers through to the ends of her hair. She didn't have a mirror to check, and she didn't want Sharon to notice anything amiss.

She wanted this development between her and Jack to remain private. It was nobody else's business.

As she rebraided her hair, she tried to sort out her feelings. She already felt affection for Jack, but the experience they'd shared down here was powerful. She knew it had brought them closer, and her emotions were teetering between joy and confusion.

Her feelings for him were deepening, but a physical relationship could complicate her ability to fight for Wyatt later. Eventually, Jack would return to his other women and his other life.

In the meantime, keeping her feelings secret seemed to provide her with one last vestige of safety.

She wrapped the band around the end of her braid, which she tossed over her shoulder, then checked her clothes one last time.

Before she left the cellar, she looked down into the box of infant clothes still on the floor. Tenderly, she tucked the soft pink sleeve of a sleeper back inside. She folded the lid across the top and returned the box to the shelf.

Someday she'd come back down here and look through it again. She would study each item and try to remember
everything she could about the twins' birth and their first few months of life.

She'd think of some anecdotes she could tell, about what they were like as infants.

And as soon as they could understand, she would begin to tell them a lifetime of very special stories about her sister, and their mother.

 

M
ORNING WAS FINALLY HERE
. Even before Jack opened his eyes, he felt an energy stirring him to action. Today he would talk to Abby. Today their future could begin.

He sprang out of bed, grabbed his robe and darted down the hall to shower. The house was oddly quiet. The twins weren't babbling in the kitchen, and Abby wasn't bustling around doing a hundred different things at once. He must have gotten up before them.

It was truly a rare day.

Even though he was anxious to get everything out in the open, he took his time with grooming. He shaved with hot lather and a razor, and used his best cologne. Then he spent ten minutes trying to tame his hair with a comb and styling gel while he rehearsed his speech in the mirror.

He'd tell Abby that she'd blown him away, down in that cellar, and that he was excited about the changes. He was ready for something more.

Returning to his room, he dressed with care, too. Just jeans, he decided, since he'd want to help her deliver baskets today. But he chose nice ones that he knew fit well. And he picked out a tan shirt that the salesgirl had said brought out the light in his eyes.

After he finished, he roamed around the house, trying to be patient and listen for sounds coming from upstairs. The rehung curtains were still tightly drawn across the window, and the two upstairs doors were latched shut. There were no sounds of his family waking.

His family—that sounded good. And right. And except for
Abby, it had always been the truth. He'd simply never thought of them that way before.

Since they nearly always started their day in the kitchen, he went there to wait. The sunny room, usually brimming with activity, was calm and tidy this morning.

Every basket, ribbon and jar from yesterday had been assembled, tied and boxed. By late last night, it had all been loaded into Abby's truck.

No wonder she was sleeping late. She'd been working hard, and it was time for a break. He'd make sure she had a phenomenal time at the party Saturday night.

He'd make sure she had a phenomenal time every night—if she'd let him.

Since he was up first, he decided to make coffee and breakfast for the two of them. He pulled eggs and cheese from the refrigerator, hoping she liked omelettes.

As he opened a cabinet to pull out a skillet, he grinned at Abby's big kettle, already scrubbed to a shine and replaced on the shelf.

Neglecting his work yesterday afternoon had resulted in a time of great discovery for him. The only thing that hadn't truly surprised him was Abby's scorching response.

He'd suspected she'd be a passionate lover, and she hadn't let him down. She made love with the same vigor she brought to everything else. She was incredible.

But she'd seemed quieter than usual after they returned to the kitchen, and she'd asked him to take care of the twins so she and Sharon could keep working. Later, he'd put the babies to bed while Sharon helped Abby work out her delivery schedule and invoice receipts.

It was only then that they'd pulled the truck around to the side of the house to load it under the post light in the driveway, then returned to the kitchen to clean up.

Abby had been so exhausted she'd gone up to bed immediately after Sharon left at midnight. Jack wouldn't allow himself to follow her upstairs and pound on her door, no matter how
much he wanted to, so he hadn't been alone with her since the cellar.

Today, before anything else happened, they would talk.

When he finally heard noises upstairs, he started across the house to help her with the twins. But she'd carried them halfway down the stairs by the time he got there.

And she still looked exhausted.

“Hello,” he said brightly, taking Wyatt.

“'Lo,” she mumbled.

He followed her back to the kitchen, frowning at her silence. Usually, she talked to the babies almost constantly.

After the twins were in their high chairs and eating, he set a cup of coffee on the table in front of her and said, “I'm making omelettes. You interested?”

“Omelettes?” she asked, wincing as she sipped the coffee.

“Omelettes,” he repeated. “I must still owe you a meal.”

She shrugged, set the coffee down and continued feeding the twins.

Jack stood over the stove, starting to cook. Since she was quiet, he decided to begin the conversation he'd had a hundred times in his head. “We never talked about what happened yesterday in the cellar.”

He glanced back at Abby, but she just kept spooning food into the babies' mouths. He returned his attention to the eggs. “I know we had an agreement, but—”

“Shh,” she interrupted. “There's no need for an apology. I was the one who broke the agreement.”

An apology?

He scowled down at the eggs. He'd thought what had happened in the cellar was one of the most amazing moments in his life, and he wasn't planning to apologize. He started to tell her that, but Wyatt squealed and bounced in his seat, and of course Abby had to devote her attention to the babies.

As soon as Wyatt was calm, Jack said, “We need to talk about what happened down there.”

“I guess we do,” she said, just as the doorbell rang.

He turned off the burner and scowled across the room at Abby, wishing whoever it was would just go away.

It rang again, and this time the tones sounded loud and long, as if the person outside was leaning against the buzzer.

As Jack strode through the hall to the foyer, he grumbled at the audacity of anyone showing up on a person's doorstep at this hour. Apparently, a man couldn't even get privacy if he moved out to the sticks these days.

“What time is it, anyway?” he hollered back at Abby as he yanked the door open.

“Nine-thirty,” yelled Abby, from the kitchen.

“Nine-thirty,” said Zuzu, from the front porch.

He stared at his eccentric ex-girlfriend, who appeared to be wearing a rhinestone-studded sheet.

“Hello, Jack,” she said. “How are you?”

He frowned and shook his head. Zuzu's timing was usually much better. “Zuzu,” he sighed. “I know I left a message on your machine awhile back, but this is a horrendous time to pay a visit.”

She patted his cheek as she stepped through the door. “You are definitely a Leo, aren't you?” she said. “Still so busy you can't keep track of your social calendar?”

“Huh?” He held an arm out to block her path. There was no need for Abby to meet another of his ex-girlfriends, ever.

But especially not now.

“Oh, my gosh,” said Abby from behind him in the hall. “I forgot about Zuzu's visit.”

He dropped his arm and turned around. Abby had been listening. And she seemed to know Zuzu. Or at least she knew about this visit. And she was clearly agitated.

“I need to deliver baskets,” she said in a shaky voice. “I'll be gone most of the day.”

She sprinted up the stairs before he could stop her.

“Do you and Abby know each other?” he asked Zuzu as she fluttered past him into the house.

“Only in the sense of a shared sisterhood.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. Zuzu knew he hated her cryptic comments.

“We met over the phone,” Zuzu explained. “Did you make me breakfast?” She dropped her gaze and lifted the corners of her mouth.

That was when Jack realized he'd brought along the omelette pan. He snorted, already heading for the kitchen.

And when he got there, he realized Abby had left Wyatt and Rosie in their high chairs.

They didn't seem very happy about it, either.

He tossed the still-hot pan of eggs in the sink, used a handful of paper towels to wipe most of the food off the twins' fingers and mouths, and carried them both back out to find Abby and explain.

By the time he reached the main hallway, Abby was standing near the front door, and Zuzu was comfortable on the sofa.

“I was planning to help you deliver those baskets,” he said on his way across to Abby.

“Don't worry about it,” she said. “And anyway, who'd baby-sit if you came with me? You'll have fun.”