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Authors: Deborah Smith

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BOOK: Just a Little Bit Guilty
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"No, ma'am. She was real tired, and I 'spect she's sound asleep."

"Good. Night-night, honey."

"Night-night," Jake replied drolly. He shut the door. He crossed back to the bed, took her hand, and sat down. "Sleep here, darlin'. I'll just get in your bed. It'll be quieter that way."

"What are you going to do now?" she asked with concern. He sighed.

"I reckon I'm gonna put my coat on and go bump around the attic for a while," he said sadly.

"I'll miss you," she whispered. Jake arranged the rumpled covers over her and tucked her in. They kissed wistfully.

"I'll use the time to think about you," he promised. Vivian strained her eyes to watch him until he went out the door. Then she grabbed an old wind-up alarm clock off the nightstand beside the bed and set it to ring at five a.m. With a plan brewing in her restless thoughts, she burrowed under the covers and waited for morning.

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110

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by Deborah Smith

Chapter Eight

Jake and Aunt Vanessa sat at the kitchen table and sipped their second cups of coffee as if they'd been awake for hours, instead of just thirty minutes.

"Ooooh, I hate it when I oversleep," Aunt Vanessa complained.

They heard the clumping sound of footsteps on the side porch off the kitchen. Jake walked to the door and swung it open.

"What the ... Viv?"

"Good morning," she said with a tired smile, her breath rising in clouds against the cold morning darkness. She had bits of sawdust in her dark hair and a stain on her coat in the shape of a cloven cow hoof. She handed him a stainless steel bucket full of Claire's bubbly milk. "I did it." Aunt Vanessa came over and stared at the bucket along with Jake.

"Miss Vivian, I didn't know you could milk a cow! 'Specially my cantankerous old Claire!"

"We had a talk. I made her an offer she couldn't refuse." Vivian pulled a handful of sugar packets from her coat pocket.

"I tried to fake her out with Splenda, but she only went for the full monty."

Jake lifted her off the floor, hugged her, kissed her lightly on the mouth, and whirled her around in a circle. "You'll be a farm wife yet."

"Put me down. You're churning my cream." 111

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"Jake, you're embarrassin' her," Aunt Vanessa scolded. Chuckling, he set her feet back on the yellow linoleum floor.

"Breakfast will be ready in thirty minutes, chickies," Aunt Vanessa piped. "Vivian, you'd best go get cleaned up. Jakehoney can you slice some bacon for your Aunt Vanny?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said dutifully. Vivian gave him a tentative, odd smile that he didn't understand. Jake's own smile faded a little.

"You feelin' all right, Tough Stuff? Did Claire kick you more than once?"

"She wouldn't dare. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Farm wife," she murmured to herself as she went upstairs, wincing as one hand went to her back.

* * * *

"Wake up, beautiful," Jake urged gently. She was curled against the truck's passenger door, her head pillowed on her folded tweed coat. The street lights of Atlanta flashed by her dozing profile. The night had turned colder, and rainy. "We're almost home. Another minute and we'll be at your place." When she didn't respond, he patted her shoulder. She gave a soft cry of pain and arched away from his touch, fully awake in an instant. She looked at him with hazel eyes narrowed in a squint of discomfort.

"Viv, what is it?"

"Nothing. I just had a muscle cramp."

"What's wrong with your back?" he asked firmly. 112

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"Okay, there's a spasm in my tail. I need to uncurl it for awhile. And the pointy red tip is sticking me in one hip. No problem. Just a Democrat thing."

He gestured toward her window. "My god, would you look over
there
. I believe that's Alicia Keys comin' out of the CNN

building."

She pivoted toward the window. He knew she was a fan. Jake tugged the back of her sweater up.

Vivian had a long, ugly welt on her back.

She shoved her sweater down and glared at him. "You punked me."

"Looks like Claire did the punkin'. She got you with a horn?"

Vivian sank back on the seat. "Yes, but you should see my teeth marks in Claire's ear."

He frowned the rest of the way to her condo building. Jake swung the truck to a stop by the curb in front of the high rise and clicked off the engine. "Come on, let's get you inside. I'll rub some liniment on you."

"Jake, I'm worried about us. You belong in Tuna Creek. You'll go back there as soon as you can. It's a sweet place, but I belong here instead."

He looked at her as if she'd just taken his whole world apart. She avoided his eyes and began gathering her things. He said gruffly, "There's got to be a way, Viv."

"I can't see it, at the moment." Her voice broke. "I'm afraid we're headed for a painful reality check. I don't 'do'

cows. You need a woman like Marleen, not me."

"Nothin' worth havin' comes easy, darlin'." 113

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"Let's back away from each other and take a deep breath and think about where we're heading. That's all I'm saying. Please?"

He followed her up the steps to the building's entrance. She turned around and faced him, crying. "The world is screwed up. I see that in my courtroom every day. It's not safe to love anybody too much."

Jake caught her by the elbows. "You've got it wrong. The only way to survive is by loving as much as you can."

"I have so many ugly pictures stored inside me," she rasped, bracing her hands against his chest, pushing him back. "So much I've seen ... so much I've heard..." He pulled her toward him an inch at a time. "All you have to do is look at
me
, Viv."

"I need..." she began, and wanted desperately to add
you
. But she just cried harder. "I need..." He cradled her face in one hand as he continued to bring her to him. The touch of his hand broke her. "I need you, Jake," she said at last. "I need you so much. Help me."

And then she was snug in his arms, her face hidden in the collar of his coat, her hands clutching his shoulders. He held her as if he'd let no force on earth pull her away, and he twisted his head so he could press his cheek to her forehead. Then he scooped her up in his arms and carried her inside the building.

* * * *

As soon as they stepped inside her dark living room, Vivian sneezed and her teeth began to chatter. Jake carried her to 114

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her master bath. He set her down before flicking the switch on the row of lights over the vanity mirror. Diffused light filled the cozy, luxurious bathroom, reflecting off the coral-andcream décor to give everything—the dark wood cabinets, the oversized white tub, and the two of them—a pink glow.

"Where's the thermostat?" he asked quietly.

"In the hall," she murmured, hugging herself and wincing. He turned a faucet and sent hot water whooshing into the tub. Next he grabbed a bottle marked Lavender Luxury and dumped most of the contents in the water. Scented suds exploded in the churning water. "Ease in and cover your goodies with the bubbles," he ordered drolly. "I'll come back in a few minutes with something warm for you to drink." She nodded stiffly. He dropped a kiss on her neck and left, his heavy coat rustling as he removed it. Vivian numbly shed her clothes. Her back throbbed. She crept into the frothing tub and sank to her chin under mounds of lavender bubbles.

"Damn, I can't see a thing under those bubbles," Jake said as he came into the bathroom. Vivian laughed wearily, the sound ending in a yip of pain. A current of silent communication flowed between unspoken questions, mingled with the wordless knowledge that this was good and natural, that they were fighting the world together, tonight. He sat down behind her on the tub and rubbed the rough surface of a coffee mug against her bare arm. He rested his other hand—the fingers spread—between her shoulder blades.

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"Take a couple of big sips of this," he ordered, holding the mug closer. "What the bath can't warm, this will. I found that bottle of bourbon you bought for me."

He was right. The stiff, hot drink hit her stomach like an invasion of mischievous elves carrying torches. They quickly mounted an attack on the tourniquets that held her nerves taut.

"Okay?" he inquired. Each of his fingers had begun rubbing perfect circles on her wet skin.

"
Va bene
," she whispered.

"Bah what?" His voice was as warm as the water, and as caressing.

"
Va bene
," she repeated. "It means 'that's fine.'
Grazie
. That means 'Thank you.'"

"
Grazie
," he echoed. Vivian took another mind-relaxing swallow of doctored coffee, and closed her eyes. His hand deserted her back. Vivian looked over her shoulder to find him taking off his blue-plaid shirt and the underlying ribbed top. He caught her gaze and stopped, his arms up and most of his chest exposed.

"Go ahead," she said evenly. But when she looked away, staring down at the water, her heart rate had begun a steady acceleration.

He tossed the shirt and the long john top into a corner. She looked around again, her lips parted. Vivian's eyes flickered over the well-developed shoulders and the lean muscle stretched across his torso. His thick, reddish hair contained an attractive dusting of sun-bleached blond.

"Nice highlights," she said.

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"All natural," he countered.

His hands closed slowly over the tops of her shoulders. He sat down on the tub's rim, behind her. His denimed knee gently brushed her bare arm.

He slid his hands into the water, down her back, goading every tight muscle to give in. It was bliss. Vivian felt wrapped in the protection of his hearty soul. She set the mug on the edge of the tub, locked her arms around her legs, and put her head on her knees.

"Prettiest woman I've ever seen," Jake said tenderly, sincerely, his tone as soothing as the water and his hands. For nearly a half hour he massaged her naked back. Her pain dissolved. Vivian turned and looked up at him tenderly. Then, slowly, she stood. The foam and fluff of scented bubbles tantalized him, letting only small glimpses of her body peek through.

She held out her arms to him.

"Viv," he murmured happily. He pulled a towel off his shoulder and dried her, smoothing the bubbles away, revealing everything. Once again he lifted her in his arms. This time he carried her to her darkened bedroom and tucked her under the girly white eyelet and thick blue coverlet. Rain pattered on a nearby windowsill. Her eyelids drooped in delicious response. "I don't want to fall asleep," she whispered. "This is not the effect you were going for. And not the one you were getting, I promise."

He smiled gently. "Take a nap. I can wait." As he bent over her, kissing her forehead, her nose, her eyelids, she fell soundly asleep.

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* * * *

Jake forced himself to give her more than an hour before he returned carrying a dinner tray. He stopped beside the queen-sized bed, enthralled. The soft pool of light from a tiny porcelain lamp on the oak nightstand made her skin glow like hot honey. She lay on her side, her silky black hair drying into soft waves. Her full lips were relaxed, slightly parted. Her black lashes were tiny fans against her cheeks. Holding his breath, he set the tray down beside the lamp. She sighed and turned onto her back, her shoulders bare above the coverlet.

"Viv," he called softly. Jake braced one arm on either side of her and bent over to brush her forehead with his lips.

"Wake up, darlin'."

Her eyes fluttered open, dark and dreamy. They caught his and hypnotized him so much that he wasn't aware that he responded with a rough, loving sound that came from deep in his chest. But she heard it, and her face filled with heartstopping adoration. He saw now, in this vulnerable instant before she could hide again, that she loved him, as certainly as if she'd spoken the words.

"Dear God," he whispered hoarsely. "Thank you." Her hands slipped to the top of the covers and slowly pushed them down, revealing her breasts and the pink mist of desire on her skin. She put her fingertips on either side of his face and urged him to come to her. Her hands trailed up and down his chest. While he watched, transfixed, she slipped out of bed and knelt by his feet. She removed his boots slowly, 118

Just a little Bit Guilty

by Deborah Smith

and when she finished, she ran her fingers over his bare ankles and feet.

He smiled between short breaths. Her hands slid up his legs to the waist of his jeans. His eyes never left her face as she unzipped the faded denim. He shifted and helped her push his jeans and white briefs to the floor. Vivian admired him openly.

"You're magnificent," she told him softly. "Everything about you."

It might have been hours, it might have been minutes. They lost themselves in the glory of quick, new explorations. He rolled her onto her stomach and used his tongue to salve the bruise across her back, murmuring soft, nearly incoherent words of sympathy as he did so. He lay on his back and let her touch him as he had touched her earlier. Before she stopped, he was shifting on the bed with pleasure, his hands wrapped in tight fists around the brass rails behind the pillows.

"No more," he ordered. "No more."

"More," she ordered huskily.

He took her in his arms and lovingly put her on her back. His gleaming eyes held hers in a tender rebuke.

"Together," he urged.

"Together, then," Vivian agreed.

The weight of his body made an exquisite addition to her sensations. Vivian moved under it, testing the feel of him, aching to know how he'd feel inside her.

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