Hawk's Way Grooms (16 page)

“Good,” he replied, his voice husky. “Just relax and let me make love to you.”

Let me make love to you.
It was what she had wanted for a very long time. Jewel let herself fully enjoy what Mac was doing to her—making love to her—without worrying about whether he was
in love
with her. He was as considerate a lover as she could ever have hoped for. He cared for her. That would have to be enough for now.

Mac had one hand inside her jeans, the other tantalizing her nipple, while his mouth teased the flesh at her throat. She writhed against him as her body experienced all the joy and pleasure she had not allowed herself to feel in the past.

As the tension built inside her, she reached out to the pleasure, indulged in it, delighted in it, until she felt herself losing control. “Mac,” she said, the fright back in her voice. “What's happening to me?”

“Something wonderful. Let it happen, Jewel. Let me do this for you.”

She trusted Mac. As he had trusted her to comfort him. More than that. She loved him.

Jewel gave her body into his hands and was rewarded moments later with a shattering climax, her body shuddering with wave after wave of intense pleasure. “Mac,” she gasped. “Mac.”

“I know,” he said, his voice gentle, his breathing as erratic as hers. “I know.”

Jewel felt totally enervated and was barely aware when Mac picked her up in his arms and carried her to her bedroom. He pulled the sheets down on her bed, stood her up long enough to strip the wet cutoffs and panties off her, then tucked her under the covers before she had time to feel embarrassed at being naked.

She expected him to join her. But the last thing she saw before her eyes slid closed was Mac's taut, untanned buttocks as he walked out of the room.

 

M
AC KNEW THAT
J
EWEL HAD EXPECTED
him to join her in bed, and that he would have been welcome there. He could have eased the ache in his loins and gotten them both over hurdles that had stood in their way for years. He had learned from their recent lovemaking that he had not only the self-control—but the desire—to put Jewel's feelings and needs before his own.

Several things had stopped him from staying.

Mac had realized, as he was making love to Jewel, that he loved her. And not just as a friend, but as an inseparable part of himself. He wanted to spend his life with her. He wanted to plant his seed inside her and help her raise the children they would make together. He wanted to grow old with her.

Which raised a second problem. Mac Macready was another football has-been, who had no idea what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. After the horrific episode with his scarred leg in the tub, there was no denying the truth any longer. He would never play pro football again. Mac had not beaten the odds this time. He had lost.

It was a devastating realization.

If he had not had Jewel to hang on to, he didn't know what he would have done. She had understood his pain and his loss. She had offered comfort without platitudes. She obviously cared for him—even after seeing him at his most vulnerable.

None of the reasons he had for fearing commitment with a woman existed where Jewel was concerned. With her, Mac felt safe making that leap into the unknown, certain he could trust her to be there when he landed.

Which brought him to a third problem. Mac had no idea whether Jewel loved him merely as a friend or the way he wanted to be loved. As a man. As her lover. As her future husband.

Mac had collected Jewel's clothes before he left the bedroom, wrung out all her wet things and hung them in the bathroom to dry. He had dressed himself in Levi's and a Western shirt, then laid himself down on his bed, his hands behind his head, to think.

On the way up out of the canyon at lunchtime, Jewel had encouraged Brad to tell Mac his interpretation of the primitive drawings on the canyon wall. Mac had listened attentively and heard in Brad's explanation an analogy of what life was like when it was lived in fear of reaching out for dreams. After all, dreams might never come true. You might end up disappointed, or in worse shape than if you had been satisfied with what you already had.

Mac had always believed in pursuing his dreams. He had never been indecisive. But clearly there were moments when old dreams had to be abandoned—and new dreams dreamed. Mac could no longer be a professional football player. So what else did he want to do with his life?

That wasn't an easy question to answer, because Mac had been so determined to regain the use of his scarred leg that he had refused to think about alternatives. Now he must. And he had to factor Jewel, and her commitment to Camp LittleHawk, into the equation.

The idea that rose immediately in his mind was such a simple solution—and yet so revolutionary in terms of how he had intended to spend his life—that Mac felt both excited and cautious about pursuing it. Maybe the best thing to do was to approach Jewel and see what she thought.

He was on his way back to her room when someone knocked hard and fast on the door to the cottage. He hurried to the door and opened it to find Gavin Talbot standing there.

“I think you better get Jewel and come to the boys' bunkhouse,” he said. “Brad Templeton has a fever.”

J
EWEL BLAMED HERSELF FOR NOT
recognizing that Brad's flushed face at lunch was caused not only by excitement but also by the fever that signaled the return of his leukemia—and the end of his second remission.

She could barely manage to keep a smile on her face as she belted Brad into the seat of the chartered plane for the short flight back to Dallas Children's Hospital, which was waiting to readmit him. Brad was gripping Mac's football tightly in the crook of one arm. His eyes were feverishly bright, and he had a smile plastered on his face as phony as the one on hers.

Jewel felt Mac's presence at her side. She saw the muscles in his scarred leg as he knelt facing Brad. Mac knew what the end of Brad's remission meant as well as she did. The boy's chances of survival were considerably less now than they had been at the beginning of the week. Mac might very well be bidding Brad Templeton goodbye for the last time.

“Hey, tiger,” Mac said, tugging the brim of Brad's cap down playfully. “How's it going?”

Brad readjusted the cap and said, “It's back.”

“I know,” Mac said. “Remember what I said.”

“Yeah. Doctors don't know everything.”

Mac nodded soberly. “You keep fighting,” he said, his voice low and fierce. He spoke so softly Jewel could barely hear him. “Don't give up. I expect to see you back here next summer. In fact, I expect you to be a counselor someday at a sports camp I'm thinking about starting, where lots of football players like Troy Aikman and Dan Marino and Reggie White and Jerry Rice will come and spend a little time with kids like you.”

Jewel wondered where Mac had come up with the idea of a sports camp to encourage Brad. The way Brad's face had lit up, it had certainly been a good idea. She was surprised by the other message Brad had heard in Mac's speech.

“Does that mean you're not gonna play football anymore?” Brad asked.

Mac shook his head. “My leg can't tolerate it.”

“So sometimes the doctors
are
right,” Brad said.

Jewel watched as Mac gripped Brad's free hand in his and said, “Believe in yourself, and you'll come through fine.”

“Time for takeoff, folks,” the pilot announced. The nurse who was traveling with Brad was already buckled into her seat.

Mac stood, but Brad held on to his hand and pulled him back down onto his knee. “Good-bye, Mac,” he said, a farewell in case he never came back. His chin wobbled and tears welled in his eyes.

“See you soon, Brad,” Mac replied. He hugged the boy, who dropped the football and reached up to grab Mac tight around the neck with both hands.

“I don't want to go back to the hospital,” Brad said. “Please don't make me leave.”

“You have to go. You need help to get well.”

“I'm not going to get well. I'm going to die!” Brad cried.

“You'd better not,” Mac said severely. “I'm counting on you to come through for me.”

Jewel watched as Mac pulled Brad's hands free and reached down to retrieve the football from the floor of the plane and put it back in Mac's arms. “Remember, if I made it, you can make it, too,” Mac said.

A tear spilled over as Brad glanced at Jewel for confirmation of Mac's promise.

Her throat was too swollen to speak. She whispered, “Come back soon, Brad,” then backed away, keeping the smile on her face as long as she could. It was gone before she reached the door.

Once off the plane, Jewel ran all the way to the van. She had freely chosen to work with kids like Brad, knowing they didn't all make it. With some of them, it was especially hard to let go. Brad's life had seemed so full of possibilities, as Mac's had been all those years ago. Now Mac had lost his dream. And Brad might lose his life.

Jewel felt Mac's arms close around her from behind. He turned her to face the runway, which she saw through a haze of tears, and lifted her arm so she was waving at Brad as the chartered plane took off. Then Mac turned her to face him and closed his arms tightly around her, offering her a comforting shoulder to lay her head on.

“I can't bear it,” she said. “First to see you so unhappy, and now Brad…” She couldn't say the word
dying.

“Brad will make it,” Mac said fervently.

“How can you be so sure?” she sobbed.

“I know these things,” he said. “Besides, I'm going to need him when I start my sports camp for kids with cancer.”

It took a moment for what he said to sink in. When it did, Jewel backed out of his arms and stared at him in shocked disbelief. “I thought you made that up for Brad's sake.”

“Nope. It's for real.” He opened the door of the van and hustled her inside, then got into the driver's seat and started up the vehicle.

“Why haven't I heard about this sports camp before?” Jewel asked, wiping the tears from her eyes.

He grinned at her. “Because I just thought it up this afternoon.”

“Oh.”

“I wanted to talk to you about it before I went much further with the idea. What do you think about it?”

Jewel's first thought was that it would take Mac away from Hawk's Pride. That was selfish. What Mac planned to do would help a great many children. “I think what you're planning is one of the noblest, most considerate—”

The van veered to the berm and skidded to a halt. Before Jewel could say another word, Mac's arms were around her and his mouth had covered hers.

She had no time to think, only to feel. What she felt was overflowing love for this man who had so much strength, yet had let her see him when he was at his most vulnerable. She reached out to touch Mac's face tenderly, to thank him for being who he was.

He broke off the kiss abruptly, and she was caught by his gaze, which promised so much—hope, happiness and something else she was afraid to name, because she wanted it so much she feared she had merely wished it there.

“Look at me like that too long, love, and you're liable to get what you want right here and now, instead of when we get back to the cottage.”

Jewel stared into Mac's blue eyes, her heart pounding. Had he really called her
love?
Had he said they were going to be making love in a few minutes? He didn't repeat himself, merely started up the van and pulled back onto the road.

Jewel suddenly realized why Mac had reached out to her physically. Making love was an act to reaffirm life in the presence of death.
We can reach out for joy. We still have our lives ahead of us, whatever those lives may bring. This offer of lovemaking has nothing to do with Mac actually loving me. It's a reaction to Brad's illness.
She couldn't disagree with Mac's motive. Or with wanting to be held close, no matter what the reason. She wasn't going to deny him, or herself, the lovemaking he had promised.

“Tell me more about the camp,” she said to break the strained silence.

“There isn't any more to tell,” he replied. “It's just an idea right now. Do you have any suggestions?”

“Where do you plan to locate it?”

He frowned. “That's a problem. I probably have enough money left from my signing bonus with the Tornadoes to advertise the place and hire help for the first year. But I doubt whether I have enough to buy a piece of land and build buildings. Any suggestions?”

Jewel would have offered her facilities immediately, if she had thought he would accept. His explanation seemed to suggest he would be perfectly happy to open his camp right here.

The way he was looking at her, his heart in his eyes, gave her the courage to speak. “Camp LittleHawk belongs to my mother, but she's said it can be mine whenever I want it. I think having a sports program here—with famous football players participating on occasion—would be a welcome addition.”

Mac smiled at her, and she felt her throat swell with emotion. “Thanks, Jewel. Incorporating my idea with what you've already established at Camp LittleHawk would please me very much.”

They had arrived back at the cottage, and Mac quickly left the van and came around to help Jewel out. He took her hand and practically dragged her into the cottage. She realized why he was in such a hurry when, the instant they were inside with the door closed behind them, he pulled her into his arms and pressed her to him from breast to thigh. The evidence of his desire was hard to miss.

“I love you, Jewel.”

The way he blurted it out seemed to surprise him as much as it surprised her. His eyes looked wary, as though he wished he hadn't spoken.

She shoved back the hurt and said, “It's all right, Mac. You don't have to say things like that.”

The wary look disappeared, and his jaw firmed. “I don't
have
to say it. I
want
to say it. I love you, Jewel. I think I have for a very long time. I was afraid to do anything about it, afraid even to admit it, I think, because of all the bad things that happened when I loved someone in the past.

“What's happened to Brad made me realize I don't want to wait any longer. Life is too precious to waste a single day of it. I love you,” he repeated. “And I want to make love with you.”

Jewel took a deep breath and let it out. If he could find the courage to speak, so could she. “I love you, too, Mac. I've been afraid to tell you, afraid you wouldn't feel the same way. Afraid—”

She never got a chance to finish. His mouth captured hers at the same time he reached down to lift her up and carry her toward his bedroom.

 

M
AC LAID
J
EWEL DOWN ON HIS
bed as gently as he could and sat down beside her. He hadn't expected his courage to desert him, but it seemed for a moment that he wouldn't be able to go through with what he had planned.

It was late in the day, and the growing dusk gave everything in the room a soft, rosy glow. Jewel had never looked more beautiful to him. Or more trusting.

He had never been more nervous. Or frightened.

Think of her feelings, not your own.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“More than all right,” she said, a tender smile on her lips. “Kiss me please, Mac.”

He had never been more gentle, more tender, more considerate of a woman. He brushed his mouth against hers, teased her lips, nipped at her and eased his tongue into her mouth to taste her. He felt her growing desire, her growing urgency to touch and taste in return.

He put his arms around her and pulled her close, feeling the tips of her breasts turn as pointy as pebbles when they made contact with his chest. “Would you like me to undress you?” he asked.

“I'd rather undress you,” she said with a mischievous smile.

Mac was surprised, but when he thought about it, it seemed like a good idea. If he was undressed while she was still clothed, she would have the opportunity of escaping anytime she didn't feel comfortable. “Okay,” he said. “Where would you like to start?”

She got off the bed and said, “Sit back on the bed, so I can take off your boots.” She turned her back to him and tugged at each of his boot heels, while he gave her a shove with the opposite foot to help get the cowboy boots off. Then she pulled off his socks and said, “Stand up.”

He stood barefoot on the wooden floor and watched as she slowly pulled his Western shirt out of his jeans and unsnapped the snaps, one at a time from the top downward. He wasn't wearing an undershirt, and she kissed her way down his chest. He was quivering by the time she reached the soft line of down that disappeared into his jeans.

When she ran her tongue around his navel, he nearly jumped out of his skin. “Good God,” he muttered.

“You didn't like it?” she asked, looking up into his face.

He shoved both hands through his hair in agitation. “I'm about to explode because of it,” he admitted.

Jewel smiled. “That's good, don't you think?”

Patience. Patience. Patience.
He said it like a mantra, hoping he could endure her innocent exploration. He bit the inside of his cheek when she undid his belt, pulled it through the loops of his jeans and let it drop to the floor.

She unbuttoned the top button of his Levi's and began to lower the zipper. Her hand brushed against his tumescence, and he grabbed her wrist to avoid disaster. He wanted desperately to tell her it was the first time for him, but the words wouldn't come out. Instead he said, “It's been a while for me, Jewel. I don't want to disappoint you.”

“What about Eve?” she asked.

He had forgotten all about Eve. “Nothing happened with her,” he said.

“But you were gone so long that first night. And when you met her in Dallas, I thought—”

“She never turned me on,” Mac blurted. “I couldn't…I didn't…Damn it, Jewel! You know what I'm trying to say.” He could feel the heat rising on his throat. He couldn't believe what he had just confessed.