Unpredictable Love Page 12

  “You thought wrong. The lady asked you to leave.”

  “She’s no lady.”

  “One more word, and you’ll be eating out of the other side of your face.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “Figured that out, did you? Get outta here before I flatten you. You nasty, disrespectful punk. Jory’s life is none of your business.” Trent curled his fingers into a fist and advanced toward Archie.

  The newsman stepped back, sweat pouring off his face. “You can have her.”

  “Are you still here?”

  Jory bit down on her thumb, her gaze darting from Trent to Archie and back again.

  “Come on, Archie. You shouldn’t be shooting your mouth off like that. I told you about those pictures in private. Come on. Leave these folks alone.” Marla tugged on his arm.

  “I’m going. But only because you want to, Marla,” Archie said, directing his words toward Trent, who leapt at him, causing the smaller man to give out a shriek and scurry away.

  Jory smiled.

  “Thanks, Trent. I’ll go get Jory,” Amber said.

  The Marine touched her arm. “Wait. I owe you an apology. I’m sorry for all the things I said to you the other day.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I get it.”

  “Thanks. Will you ask Jory if I can talk to her for a minute?”

  “Sure.” Amber headed for the door.

  Chapter Nine

  She almost bumped into Jory, who was waiting in the entryway.

  “Before you open your mouth, I’m not going back outside.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. Isn’t that what you always say to me?” Amber rested a hand on her hip.

  “I’m not.”

  “Fine. The man of your dreams wants to talk to you.”

  Jory shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “He doesn’t look mad to me.”

  “Who asked you?” The older girl turned away.

  “Now who’s being a sissy and a coward? Don’t make me get involved, Jory. He just wants to talk.”

  Jory peered out the window. Trent was sitting on the front steps. Townsfolk were still milling about and a few were buying things from Nan.

  “I’ve got to get back. Go talk to him. You’re being a baby,” Amber said, pushing through the screen door.

  Jory followed her sister, stopping to lean against the handrail next to Trent.

  “What are you doing here?” She tried not to sound hostile, but didn’t succeed.

  “You ran off yesterday without giving me a chance to speak.”

  “I couldn’t handle your anger. I still can’t. If you want to let me have it, please do it in a letter.” She straightened up and started down the remaining steps.

  He closed his fingers around her arm. “I don’t think that’s exactly fair, do you?”

  “Nothing’s fair. Life isn’t fair. So what?”

  “This isn’t a good time or place. Could I come around and see you? Maybe at your place in Oak Bend?”

  She sighed. “I suppose you’re entitled to have your chance to flog me. I deserve it.”

  “Give me a chance. I promise not to lose my temper.”

  “Okay then. Here’s my address.” She dictated it while he punched it into his phone.

  “This week? I won’t stay long.”

  “Just long enough to reduce me to ashes,” she muttered to herself. “Friday? Six?”

  “Perfect. See you then.” He pushed to his feet and cupped her cheek with his right hand before making his way down the street.

  Jory touched her face and watched him walk away. The limp wasn’t very pronounced, but it was still there. She wondered what he wanted with her. A smile graced her lips as she thought of having some time alone with him. Even if it was over between them, perhaps they could be civil, almost friends?

  Nope. The friend thing wasn’t happening. There was no way she could stop wanting him, no matter how hard she tried. How could she keep from kissing him? Friends don’t kiss like that. And Jory wasn’t a “friends with benefits” type. With a deep sigh, she returned to the table.

  “Jory, there’s no tag on this. How much do you want for this wooden heart locket?” Nan asked.

  How much for her heart? It wasn’t for sale.

  * * * *

  Jory anticipated and dreaded Trent coming to her place. Fortunately, she had five busy days at the paper. She did three interviews and wrote up first drafts. By Friday night, she was tired enough not to be jumping out of her skin.

  In a quick trip to the grocery store, she picked up cheese, fruit, and crackers. Not knowing his favorite kind, she got cheddar and Swiss, convinced that one had to be a hit. As she unpacked in her kitchen, she thought about all the things she didn’t know about Trent –like what kind of cheese he preferred. She opened a bottle of Merlot and poured herself a glass. She’d need fortification to face him.

  She changed from her suit to a soft pink, jersey shift, sloughed off her shoes, and padded around barefoot. Might as well be comfortable while she was getting ripped apart. He wouldn’t do that, would he? Touch her cheek then destroy her with words? She shivered in anticipation. The dread reminded her of going to the doctor when she knew she’d be getting a shot.

  While she prepared the cheese and fruit platter, she played the radio and sang along. A few more sips of wine, and Jory decided no matter what he called her, she’d survive—kind of like getting yelled at by the principal and doing detention in high school. Except she wasn’t in love with the principal.

  The bell interrupted her musings. She checked her watch. Right on time. So military. Taking several deep breaths, she made her way to the door. She did one stretch to ease her tension before turning the knob.

  There he stood, a vision of masculinity. Tall, handsome, wearing a button-down, blue shirt open at the neck, and khaki pants. She resisted the urge to flatten her palm on his chest. He had one hand behind his back. He smiled at her, his gaze connecting with hers. His eyes held warmth this time. Then, he whipped his fist out in front, displaying a bouquet of plump, pink roses.

  “These are for you,” he said, his voice cracking a bit.

  “Thank you. Come in.” She took the flowers and stepped to the side. Trent followed her to the kitchen, where she found a pitcher to use as a vase. She fixed the blooms and placed them on the dining table. “They’re beautiful. Thank you. Would you like a beer or wine?”

  “Maybe just one. Wine. If it’s open. You’ve got a beautiful place here.” His gaze swept the room, stopping on the sliding glass doors to the yard.

  “I picked the first floor so I could have feeders.” She poured his drink.

  He took the glass, glancing at her, then away. He drifted over to the back and stopped to watch the finches. “Nice bunch,” he said, nodding.

  “I’ve got some cheese, if you’re hungry,” she said. “Please, sit down.”

  He joined her on the sofa. Fear kept her from making eye contact. She stared at her drink.

  “You’ve come here to say something to me. Please, the anticipation is killing me. Like a Band-Aid, if you pull it off quickly, it hurts less. So, please, spit it out and get it over with.” The sting of tears started behind her eyes. She’d hoped to care less for him when she saw him, but that wasn’t the case.

  In fact, she swore she’d loved him more as he stood there on her threshold, looking so gorgeous. She’d fought the urge to grab his lapels, yank him in the door, and smother him with kisses. She gripped the arm of the couch, steeling herself for the harsh words to come.

  “What do you think I’m going to say?”

  “Just get it over with, please.”

  He inched closer.

  Fear instinctively urged her to move away, but she resisted, shutting her eyes instead. “Please, Trent. This is torture.”

  “Jory, I…” He stopped, took a breath, then started again. “Jory, I was totally surprised to find out you were you. That sounds weird. You know what I mean.�
�

  She nodded and sucked down more wine. She pushed her thumb into one eye, where a few tears stubbornly refused to leave.

  “Look, it’s not what you think. Sure, I was pissed off at first. Damn pissed off. I felt like an idiot. Marines are supposed to be smarter than that. To be fooled that way. Well, I felt dumb.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Trent put his forefinger against her lips. “Stop apologizing. But when I got to thinking about it, I kind of figured, so what? You know?”

  “Huh?” She opened her eyes wide.

  “Yeah. I mean, so you don’t look like Amber. So what? I think you’re beautiful just the way you are.” He tipped her chin up so she had to meet his gaze.

  A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye. “You do?”

  He nodded. “I do.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “No, I’m not. Have you taken a look in the mirror lately?”

  “Duh, yeah. Every day.”

  He stroked her hair. “Your hair is beautiful, your eyes, like wow. So big and expressive.”

  “I’m too thin. No boobs.”

  He laughed. “That’s not what I thought in the hospital.”

  She could feel a blush stealing into her cheeks. “Not like Amber.”

  “You filled my hands. That’s all I need.”

  “But all the things you said in your letters about my body and being beautiful.”

  “Yeah? So? Those still apply, but to you, not Amber. I don’t know Amber, but I do know you. You’re beautiful on the inside too.”

  “So, you’re not mad anymore?”

  “Nope. You didn’t lie in your letters, did you?”

  She shook her head hard. “No way! Every word was the absolute truth.”

  “I’m still in love with you.”

  “You are?” she squeaked out.

  “Yep. You’re the woman I fell for. And that hasn’t changed.”

  “You forgive me?”

  “Just don’t ever lie to me again.”

  More tears trickled down her cheek. Trent wiped them way with his thumb.

  “I promise.”

  He slid closer and pulled her onto his lap, closing his arms around her. She curled up, resting her cheek against his chest.

  “You’ve had a bad time of it, haven’t you?”

  Choked with emotion, she nodded.

  “I’m sorry about that. If you’d come to me sooner, we’d be past it by now.”

  “I was a coward.”

  “Afraid of me?”

  Again, she nodded, filled with shame.

  “Don’t ever be afraid of me. I have a temper, but it’s the quick flare-up and quick die-down type. I never stay angry long. And I’d never rip you apart.”

  “You attacked Amber in the store.”

  “Oh, yeah. Forgot about that.” She felt the rumble in his chest as he laughed. “Oops. I have apologized to her.”

  “She told me.”

  “I suppose if you cheat on me, I could get that kind of mad again.”

  “I’d never do that. I’m not a cheater. Are we still together?” She leaned back to gaze at him.

  “I hope so. I could never find another woman like you.”

  He kissed her then angled his head to deepen it. The rush of her emotions practically knocked Jory off his lap. His tongue made love to her mouth, arousing her desire. His hands gripped her waist, holding her against him. Desire flowed through her veins, kicking her pulse into overdrive, speeding up her breathing and sending pleasure through her.

  Jory pushed back. “Maybe we should eat something,” she said, straightening her dress.

  “Can I take you out to dinner?”

  Her head snapped up. “Great! There’s a cute little mom and pop Italian restaurant down the block.”

  “I love Italian food.”

  “Okay, then. Let’s go.” Jory grabbed her bag off the kitchen counter.

  “Uh, could you give me a minute?”

  She glanced down at the bulge in his pants. “Maybe we should do something else first, before dinner?”

  “Uh, no. I’m hungry, and I don’t want to rush anything, uh, later.”

  She grinned. “Sounds good to me.”

  He came up behind her, gripped her shoulders, and kissed her neck. “Oh, yes. It’s going to be very, very good for you.”

  Chills shot down her spine at his touch. “I’m a fast eater.”

  “That’s good,” he said, bestowing one more kiss on the sensitive column before heading for the door. “I hate waiting.”

  Jory stopped in the bathroom to wash her hands and pinch herself. She sported a grin that wouldn’t quit. Dinner at Fiorello’s with dessert in the bedroom. Her heart thudded against her chest, loudly in her ears, and her breathing was a bit shallow.

  Trent opened the door for her and took her hand as they strolled to the restaurant. Jory tried to focus on food, but her appetite had traveled lower in her body. Trent ordered wine. They munched on breadsticks while they picked out main courses. He ordered lasagna and she, ravioli.

  He sat back, smiling at her, and lifted his glass.

  “What are you staring at? Is something showing?” Jory checked her bra straps.

  “Just looking at my beautiful lady.”

  “Where?” Jory pretended to look to her left then her right.

  “Stop it. Your chestnut hair is an incredible blend of brown and red. Your face is perfect. And your body? Well, hell, I can hardly keep my hands off you,” he said, reducing the last part to a whisper as he leaned closer.

  A blush of pleasure stole into her cheeks. She slid her fingers under his, and he tightened around them. The waiter brought their wine and a small plate of antipasti.

  “We didn’t order this,” Trent said.

  “I know, but the chef loves lovers. So, he sent this over with his compliments. Amore, eh?” The man winked at Trent, which caused the Marine to blush and laugh.

  As they picked at the plate loaded with tidbits of sausage, cheese, pimento, and other Italian delights, Jory cleared her throat. “We don’t know each other very well.”

  “Oh?”

  “I think we should have a round robin. I’ll ask a question, then you answer, then you ask and I’ll answer.”

  “Suits me. Ladies first.”

  “Here goes. Your favorite color?”

  “Blue. Yours?”

  “Pink. Your favorite car?”

  “Maserati. Yours?”

  “Rav 4.”

  “My turn. Your favorite song,”

  “‘Too Late for Goodbyes,’” she said.

  “Mine too!”

  The server arrived with their food.

  “One more,” he said. “Your most embarrassing moment.”

  “So many, it’s hard to choose,” she said, grinning.

  Conversation took second place to food as they traded stories around bites of tender, homemade pasta. Jory confided in him, embarrassing herself several times. They finished their wine, their food, and nursed cups of coffee, still talking.

  At nine, they were given the bill, which Trent paid, and politely ushered out into the cool, June air. When she shivered, Trent wrapped his jacket around her shoulders. They laced fingers and took their time getting back to Jory’s apartment. She gazed at the stars and made a wish.

  “Have people always compared you to Amber?” Trent asked, pulling her closer.

  “Not my parents. They never did. But everyone else seems to.”

  “Nan?”

  “Oh, no. She never would. But I’d hear phrases like, ‘never mistake you for twins’, and ‘Amber’s the pretty one, Jory’s the smart one.’ Stuff like that.”

  “Ouch! Did people actually say that?” His brows rose.

  She nodded.

  “Bet that hurt.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders.

  “After a while, I got over it. Began to enjoy being the smart one.” She cuddled into him.

  “I think you�
��re smart and pretty.” He leaned down and kissed her hair.

  “Thank you.” The scent of his freshly ironed shirt teased her nose. Ripping it from his body crossed her mind. She hugged him around the waist, ignoring the tingle caused by coming up against his firm muscle.

  He squeezed her once, hard, before releasing her to unlock her door.

  Once inside, the two lovers attacked each other. Trent grabbed her, clasping her to his chest as his hungry mouth found hers. Up on tiptoes, Jory braced herself with her hands on his shoulder and opened for him. Their kiss, hot to start, grew hotter. He hitched her shift up, dipping his fingers under the hem to squeeze her flesh. She fumbled with his buttons, opening them as fast as she could.

  He shucked his shirt, letting it slip to the floor, before yanking her dress up and off. She took his hand and almost ran to the bedroom. While he removed his pants, she pulled down the covers.

  “Are you?”

  “No.”

  He pulled out two condoms and put them on the nightstand. Jory reached around behind to undo her bra when a big hand stopped her.

  “Let me do that. Please.”

  Shyness washed over her as she realized, though they had made love before, and he had touched her, he’d never seen her naked.

  “You’re blushing. Are you embarrassed? We’ve already done the deed,” he said, flipping open the hooks.

  “But you’ve never seen me…uh, undressed.”

  “Oh! That’s right! Well, let me take a good look,” he said, laughing.

  Jory giggled, but covered her chest with her arms.

  “Come, come, don’t be shy with me.” He shed his pants and boxers and lay down on the bed, beckoning her to join him.

  Undressed, he was magnificent. Jory hadn’t seen all of him, either, between the bandages and the cast. Her mouth hung open.

  “You’re gorgeous.”

  “Men aren’t gorgeous. Women are. Come over here, beautiful creature. Let me see you, Jory, honey. Don’t be shy. I love you.”

  His soft words melted her fear. She dropped her arms and climbed up on the mattress next to him.

  “Now, the panties.”

  She slipped them off and tossed them on a chair.

  “God, you’re gorgeous,” he whispered.

  Before she could face him, a warm hand slid down her side and gripped her hip. She folded her legs up underneath and rolled onto her back. Propped up on his elbow, he feasted his eyes on her.