Imperfect Rebel (41 page)

At her look, he ran his fingers through her hair and quirked his eyebrows in a question she could read all too well. Love poured through the broken dam of her heart, and her smile shook a little.

"Don't you have work to do?" There, she was returning to normal a little bit. She'd be back in the swing of it shortly.

His gaze lingered on her face, then dropped to the highly respectable tailored shirt and khakis she'd donned for the visit to bureaucracy. "Probably a lifetime's worth," he agreed. "But I think I'll enjoy every minute of it."

Heat seeped through her breasts and up her throat. "I'm not a very profitable endeavor."

"Depends on your definition of profit." He lowered his head slowly, watching her, giving her time to run.

She didn't. With relief, she grabbed his neck, and lifted into his kiss. Sex, she understood. Or maybe not. What had passed for sex in her past was nothing like this. This was what the romance books called making love. She poured herself into the press of lips and tongue, showing him what she couldn't tell him. She prayed he understood because she couldn't sort out gratitude, joy, relief, and love in any meaningful measure. He was the life she'd never known, and what moments she could steal from his time would buoy her through a lifetime of crises.

"I think I'll buy a sailboat," he murmured against her mouth, before steering her toward the door, hand at the small of her back.

"Sailboat?" She halted his progress for another kiss. She needed to bank these, stack them up in her mind to be taken out and examined every time she felt lonely. He obliged, cupping her breasts and stroking until she thought she'd have to have him right here on the lawn with the snakes and mosquitoes.

"I want to make love to you with the sound of surf in the background, and I have a suspicion sand and crabs would get in the way if we tried the beach." He lifted her past the steps to the porch so their lips met on an even level.

She laughed breathlessly against his mouth. "Two minds and all that. Are we getting old or just learning caution?"

"Peter Pan never grows old, but he knows better than to tangle with Captain Hook. Come along, Tinker, let's tangle."

They didn't make it any farther than the wide couch cushions.

There was something to be said about the power of the male body, Cleo mused as Jared stripped off the last of his clothes, revealing the subtle musculature of long thighs supporting all that masculine studliness. She bit back a smile at her hedonism. She'd never indulged in sensuality in any form, but she thought she could learn as she reached to touch him, and he responded with an encouraging ardency.

A warm breeze drifted through the open windows. A cardinal chirruped in the branches of a wax myrtle. Sunlight stole through an opening in one of the shutters, throwing a golden path across the pine floor Cleo had lovingly polished until it shone.

Her sighs joined the cardinal's song as Jared kissed away decades of hurt and returned life where there had been none. She knew she'd have to return the favor soon, but not right this minute, with the faint scent of late honeysuckle and jasmine filtering through the air they breathed. The perfume mingled with the scents of sweat and musk as they teased each other lingeringly, neither willing to hurry.

When they could no longer deny the urgency building between them, Jared took the initiative, driving into her and taking her so high, so fast, she barely had time to catch her breath. It all burst too suddenly, in a shattering explosion of suns and stars and a deep heat within her that would keep her warm on the wintry days to come. She could hold him deep inside her in her memory for a long time. "Superman, my hero," she murmured, and he kissed her in reply. She hoped he understood.

The sunrays moved across the floor as they lay there, spent and exhausted with emotion more than physical release. The world outside wasn't perfect, but it was peaceful for a change, and they let that peace seep through them.

Cleo drifted for a while, content with the heavy weight of Jared's leg across hers, his arms holding her securely. She could imagine having children with a man like this—a little girl with Jared's dark eyes and long lashes, at the very least. She didn't bother hoping, but it made a nice dream.

Eventually, they woke to the growls of their stomachs and the knowledge that Maya and Matty would arrive in a few hours. Cleo ran her hands over biceps strengthened by restless push-ups, hoping to restrain him from sitting up, but Jared seemed insistent on retrieving his clothes. She let him go, and wondered how she would explain his presence in her bed tonight. She didn't think she could make him leave just because her son and sister were arriving. She didn't want to.

"This isn't the way I pictured doing this," he grumbled, pulling on his shirt, leaving it unbuttoned as he reached for his pants. "But I suppose having you naked adds an air of interest."

Propping herself on an elbow, Cleo watched him jerk his trousers over narrow hips and fumble in his pockets. Jared McCloud was one good-looking hunk of man, but she'd seen loads of handsome men. This one had something special besides the pretty-boy hair and wide shoulders and flat abdomen she adored. She'd call it intelligence, but she thought it was more than that. Sensitivity? Nah, he didn't have a sensitive bone in his body. Understanding, perhaps. He simply understood where she'd been and accepted that without questioning. She loved him for that more than anything.

He produced a velvet jeweler's box, and she blinked in disbelief. "Pay off time?" she inquired lightly to cover her discomfiture.

He dropped onto the cushion beside her and slapped her bare rump. "I'll get even with you for that some day, but not right now. I'm too nervous to do this any other way but straight." He popped open the box.

Cleo dropped back against the pillow and stared at the shimmering ring in incredulity and shock. "You're kidding, right?"

He took a deep breath, and she watched in fascination as his lightly furred chest swelled, probably with righteous indignation. She drew a finger down the line of hair trekking from breastbone to belt, and he exhaled.

"Believe it or not, Cleo, I'm a grown man capable of making adult decisions. I'm not kidding. I can't promise I'll be rich," he said hurriedly. "I have to pay back that Hollywood advance, my agent may dump me, and I don't know what the future has in store, but I'm confident I can make a good living if you don't require yachts and things. This may be the only time you'll see me like this, but I'm deadly serious. Marry me, please?"

She reached for her shirt and yanked it on. She didn't have the words for this. She'd never expected it. Never. Men like Jared didn't commit. They certainly didn't commit to ex-con addicts with less-than-perfect kids and a penchant for throwing really embarrassing fits, and who could still end up in jail for a few more years if the cards didn't fall her way. The future still looked far too bleak to paint a miracle into it.

Fastening a button over her breasts, Cleo eyed the ring he held as if it were a copperhead. "Jared, you don't mean this. You've just got caught up in the moment, unless you seriously think we can adopt the kids this way, and I'm not about to tie you down over those two."

She saw the anger darkening his eyes. She'd seen it once before, but he didn't frighten her. She loved him far too much to let him ruin his life. She might not have much going for her, but she was stubborn.

"I'm not an amiable idiot, dammit!" he yelled at her. "I know what I'm doing, and it's not for the kids. It's for
us
. We can see that the kids get into good foster homes until the courts decide what to do with them. I want to be here to look after them, but I don't have to marry you to do that."

He didn't reach for her, but raked his spare hand through his hair and glared. "I love you, Cleo. Let down your smoke screen and admit that you love me, too."

He looked so handsome and frustrated, she was tempted to give him anything he wanted. It would be so easy to slide down that lovely road into dependency again.

But she couldn't do that to him. Blinking back the unanticipated sting of tears, Cleo stared at the window instead of the glitter of temptation.

She'd been prepared to share Jared's bed any time he asked, and to savor the memories when he left. She wasn't prepared for this, couldn't believe he'd even asked it of her.

He thought she was whole and normal. He thought she was strong enough to make him happy. Superheroes either weren't very smart, or they thought everyone as strong as they were. Or both.

Matty had always been her priority. Now, it seemed she had two. Straightening her shoulders, Cleo swiped angrily at the tears rolling down her cheeks. Jared had a brilliant mind and kind soul and deserved a splendid life in the big wide world that was his for the taking. How many more sacrifices would it take before he realized he'd given up his soul for her?

She bit her lip as she darted one last glance at the gleaming promise of the ring. "I can't do it, Jared," she said, looking away again. There, she'd been strong. For once in her life, she'd done the right thing. Steadfastly, she watched the window where she'd first seen him, while her heart shrank in misery.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jared set the ring down beside her.

"You can, Cleo." Anger replaced patience in his voice.

He didn't like rejection. She'd known that. He didn't have much experience with it. He'd learn. She had confidence in him. It was herself she doubted.

"Then, I
won't
," she corrected. "I'll sleep with you. I'll rebuild the beach house for you. I won't marry you and destroy your future." She couldn't say it any plainer.

"Isn't that for me to decide?" Jared jumped restlessly to his feet and paced. "Why does everyone think I'm incapable of making my own decisions?"

"Because you don't make good ones?" she asked. She hadn't wanted to hurt him, but she was treading waters she didn't know. They'd gone through a lot together, but they hadn't had time to really know each other. "Giving up success and a career you love for a loser like me doesn't show a lot of attention to detail."

Jared's arms bulged as he swung around and yanked her to her feet. For a moment, Cleo feared she'd pushed a little too far. Fury tightened the muscles over the taut planes of his cheeks, and his eyes practically danced with fire.

"Giving up money for love makes sense to me," he asserted. "Giving up stress and a committee of jerks for a woman and a real life works in my way of thinking. You just let me know when you've shed a few layers of that thick carapace of yours, Crab Cleo. I love you, and when you're ready to admit you're worth loving, you can find me. I'll wait, but I won't come looking for you this time. Understand?"

He dropped her, spun around, and stalked out, vibrating with male fury.

He forgot his shoes, she noted wearily as he slammed the door behind him. She figured he'd leave his shoes and all his clothes before he'd return, though.

He'd left the ring. It sparkled in a late-afternoon sunbeam.

The Jeep spun its tires in the driveway and squealed off. She just wanted to sit here and cry for a million years or so.

But she knew how to handle that feeling too. All that glue she'd used pulling herself together over the years had some purpose.

Picking up her clothes, she went looking for a pair of jeans. She needed to start fixing up the attic if Matty was coming home.

Tears slid down her cheeks as she reached for her tool belt.

Chapter 34

December, New York

"I've been commissioned to see that you eat your supper." Tim slapped a steaming bag from a Chinese take-out in the center of a table cluttered with drawings and pages of discarded script.

"Hey, Tim." Jared glanced up from a dancing character on his computer, noted the bag, nodded, and returned to fiddling with the figure on screen. "Didn't know you were home."

"It
is
almost Christmas," Tim said dryly. "One does what one can."

"Right. Be with you in a minute." Running his hand through his overgrown hair, Jared growled at the uncooperative character, hit a key, and changed the costume to purple.

"Eat," Tim ordered, "or I'll pull the plug. I've seen your idea of a minute, and I don't have that much patience."