JakesWildBride (11 page)

“A little WD-40 will fix that right up.” She hefted the suitcase in her hand and walked past him.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Fix-It.”

Jake slowed as he neared the front door. This place held a lot of memories, mostly bad.

Jacob, get down from the railing this instant. People will think you’re a hooligan.

Lilah stood by the imposing verandah. “So, your mom lived here after the divorce?”

“Lilah this is none of your business.”

“We’re married.”

“Not for long,” he murmured.

“Of course it’s my business,” she answered implacably.

Did it really matter if she knew all about his childhood? He guessed not. Although why anyone would be interested was beyond him. The past didn’t matter. The present and the future were who he was. Not the past.

“My dad lived here after the divorce.” Jake waved a hand at the house. "He was the town doctor.”

“I remember when he passed,” Lilah said softly and placed a comforting hand on his back. “The whole town mourned. He was a good doctor.”

And a lousy father. “Yeah. His patients loved him.”

Lilah gave him a measuring look. “This house is huge.”

“He built it for my mother. Had to be big and fancy.”

“It’s yours now?”

“Nope. It’s mother’s. I wouldn’t want it anyway. What would I do with a house in Bloomington.”

“Live here?” She replied innocently.

Jake ignored her. He wasn’t touching that one. He turned the key in the lock, and the front door creaked open.

Jake started to step into the house.

Lilah dropped her suitcase. “Wait.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Jake turned swiftly at the panic in her voice.

“You have to carry me over the threshold.” She tugged his leather duffel bag out of his hands.

“Lilah--"

"The neighbor across the street, old Mrs. Hooper, is watching. You need to make this look good.”

The afternoon sunlight poured through her dress, outlining the perfect shape of her body through the thin material.

“You really want me to carry you over the threshold?”

“I know I’m heavy.”

“You’re not heavy.” He swung her up in his arms, and tried to ignore the brush of her breasts against his chest muscles. Lilah’s arms came around his neck and her fingers played with the hair at his nape. Jake strode into the house, determined to put her down as soon as possible. “There. Are you satisfied?”

Because he sure as hell wasn’t. And he couldn’t do anything about the ache in his loins. It wouldn’t be right.

“Oh. That wasn’t for me. It was for you.” Lilah squirmed.

“How was that for me?”

“I must be getting heavy.”

Jake took the hint, but there was no easy, non-contact way to put her down. Lilah’s body slid down his with agonizing slowness, until their chests were flush. Her breasts plumped against the hard wall of his pectorals. She licked her lips. Jake’s head bent.

“So, where is your mom now?”

If that wasn’t a mood killer, he didn’t know what was.

“She took off for Florida. Right after that Christmas.”

He stepped into the dark hallway and away from Lilah. He reached for the light switch automatically. And once the somber hall was illuminated, he grabbed their bags off the porch then slammed the door.

He breathed in deep, the scent of leather-bound books, old cigars and the faintest aroma of lemon polish still hung in the air, overlaid with a heavy layer of dust.

White sheets covered the furniture. Jake walked into his father’s study. The scuff of his feet kicked up dust motes and they twirled madly in the late afternoon sunlight.

Jake, I’m busy. Don’t come in here now. I’ve got patients to take care of.
Jake could hear the rumble of his father’s voice as if it were yesterday.

Lilah sneezed delicately and brought him back to the present. “No one has lived here since your dad passed?”

“No. But Mrs. Conroy came in and cleaned up a bedroom for me.”

Jake stopped. Ah, hell. Only one bedroom. Only one bed. The thought of Lilah in bed was a whole lot more pleasurable than the memories bombarding him. Not gonna happen, my friend. But he knew how to shut her up.

“We’ll have to share,” he said wickedly.

Lilah had changed at her aunt’s house into another long floral dress, this one wasn’t as ugly as the first but it was close. She still had the baseball cap from the bar on her head. Even so, her flush was clearly visible.

Good. She was embarrassed. Now she would spend her energy talking him out of having sex with her again. And he could get a few vicarious thrills from remembering last night instead of his childhood.

“Uh, Jake,” she started.

He grinned. This would be good. He could almost see Miss Priss reappearing. Although, now that he knew Lilah better, Miss Priss didn’t irritate him as much.

“While last night was....”

Indescribable. Spectacular. Mind-blowing.

“Nice.”

Nice? Nice!

He took a step toward her. “Nice?”

“Yes. Very.” She blushed again and retreated a step.

He took another step. Lilah retreated two more, until her back was against the paneled wood of the front door.

“We can’t do it again,” she rushed out.

“Last night was nice.” He dropped his leather duffel bag on the floor.

“Yes, very nice.” Lilah tilted her head back and looked him in the eye. Her body language said, 'Don’t touch me!' But her eyes were hot.

Jake pressed his hands against the door, caging her between his arms, careful not to touch her. But the action reminded him of their passionate interlude on the stairs last night. And his body responded. Heat rose between them, rapid and insistent.

Lilah’s breath came out in quick pants. Her hardened nipples brushed his chest. Her knees sagged, and the movement dragged her body down his.

Jake nearly groaned and pressed closer. He was hard as petrified oak. This little intimidation thing had totally backfired.

No hands
. If he didn’t touch her, he would be okay.

Jake jammed his palms against the door and bent his head. Lilah tilted her chin up and her mouth met his. The kiss was firm and knowing.

As if the touch of their bodies sparked a hunger in her, Lilah’s hands curved around his neck and pulled him closer. Her body arched into his. She pushed her breasts into his chest.

Lilah slid her hands down his body, then anchored them around his hips, and pulled him toward her. A soft moan escaped her as the hard ridge of his erection plowed into the soft valley of her stomach.

No hands.
Jake kept his hands on the door. If he touched her, he was lost. He’d be taking her against the aged wood door.

Her mouth skimmed along his jaw. She nipped at his earlobe while her hands worked at the button on his jeans. “I want you.”

In this house where no one wanted him, Lilah wanted him. Enough to throw all of her principles aside. And for that reason, he couldn’t. They couldn’t.

They had to stop. But Christ he didn’t want to.

He dragged his hands down the door to cup her jaw. He devoured her mouth, nipping at her full bottom lip. The one she always sunk her teeth sunk into.

He had his hands all over her body. No hands, no hands, he chanted silently. But his hands didn’t obey. He wrapped his arms around her, and yanked her against his totally aroused body.

Lilah wrapped her leg around his thighs and rubbed against his aching cock.

Somebody stop me.
But there wasn't anyone else to stop him. He had to do it. With a heavy groan, he pulled away from her and stepped back. Jake wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, as if he could wipe away the sensation of her lips pressed against his.

Lilah sagged back against the mahogany door, her eyes heavy with passion. A deep rose flushed her pale cheeks and her lips were reddened with the pressure from his. She was temptation personified. If he didn’t seriously annoy her in the next second or two, it would be all over.

“For the record. That wasn’t
nice
.” He sneered. “It was hot and wild, but not nice.”

Jake waited for her to slap his face. But Lilah just stood there, her chest heaving, her eyes wide and shocked in her now pale face.

Blood rushed from Lilah's head so quickly she was dizzy. Wild. She was wild. The last day had proven that. Would she ever be able to tame this edgy, needy feeling that festered inside her?

“You’re right. You’re right.” She wrapped her arms around her shaking body. She was wild. Her daddy, her aunt always told her so. She’d struggled her whole life to stomp out that wildness. For a while, she thought she’d succeeded. “I’m wild.”

“Lilah.” Jake reached for her, a frown on his face.

“Oh, how am I ever going to stop?”

“I didn’t say you were wild,” he said gently. He tugged her over to the grand, spiral staircase. The marble steps were cold against her backside as she slid down to sit on one.

“I am.”

“I said this thing between us is wild.” He gripped her shoulders. Her mind was wrapped up in her torment, but her body instinctively responded to his touch.

“It’s the same thing.”

“No, it isn’t.”

He might as well know the truth now. He had changed his life, maybe she could learn from him. “My whole life,” she said dispiritedly, “I’ve struggled against this wildness.”

“What wildness? You’re a pillar of the community.”

She hung her head. “Right. A pillar.”

Jake lifted off the cap and tilted her chin up, brushing a stray piece of hair from her cheek.

“Trust me. You are not wild.”

“If you only knew.”

“So tell me.” He ran his knuckle down her cheek in a tender caress. “What horrible wild things have you done?”

“I always got into trouble on the farm. I put the cat in the chicken coop. I went skinny dipping with Josh Hooper when I was eight. I--”

“Those are pranks. Childish, harmless pranks.”

“I haven’t just done pranks.” She couldn’t tell him about the baby. The worst thing she’d ever done in her life. Her heart ached.

Tenderness filled in his eyes. And Lilah knew he didn’t understand.

“I killed my mother.”

An expression of shock crossed his face. “What?”

“She died,” Lilah whispered, “having me.”

Jake relaxed subtly. “You didn’t kill her. Where would you get that impression?”

“My daddy told me.” Her heart was breaking. Her father had hated her.

“Well he was wrong,” Jake shot back. “Christ. What kind of father tells a kid that?”

“He hated me.”

“I’m sure--”

“Trust me. He hated me.”

Jake shifted his gaze to stare into the dusty confines of his father’s old office. “Your father’s lack isn’t a wildness in you.”

Her father’s lack. In three words, he managed to lift a burden she’d carried for so long. She was wild because she didn’t follow a commandment. Love thy father. Why should she love a man who didn’t love her back?

“See. Those aren’t wild things.”

“I kissed you in public, up on stage. I got married on stage.”

“What’s a church with a giant group of people? Just another type of stage–a little bit more traditional–but still just another stage.”

His argument caused her to pause. That was one way of looking at it.

“Tom and I agreed on a peck on the cheek,” she said triumphantly. She would have never kissed Tom that way in public.

Jake winced. “Tom didn’t do you any great favors.”

“Oh, but he did.”

“How?”

“When I was with him, I had a calmness I didn’t find any other place.”

“Did you ever consider....” Jake brushed another strand of hair from her cheek. “Ah, hell. I’m the last person to be offering this kind of advice. This is none of my business.”

“Consider what?”

“Why were you marrying Tom?”

“Because I loved him.”

“Obviously, not too much.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Lilah, you never had 'you know'. Christ, now you’ve got me doing it.” He tunneled his hand through his thick black hair and said deliberately, “You never had sex with him.”

“We were waiting.” And it had been easy. Yet, five minutes after she’d met Jake, she’d been picturing him naked.

What did that say about her? Nothing positive she was sure.

“Was it hard to wait?”

Honesty compelled her to answer. “No.”

“That’s the point. It should have been harder to wait.”

He still didn’t understand.

“I struggle to do the right thing. All the time.”