Just One Kiss (4 page)

The word, uttered in sweet baby talk, sent a spiraling shaft of pain through Jack. He fought the pain and instead summoned the anger that had always shielded him. “Would you get this kid off me?”

“I'm trying,” Marissa said with an embarrassed laugh. She was attempting to peel his arms away from Jack's cast, but Nathaniel was having none of it. He gazed up at Jack with that wide, toothy grin.

“Maybe if you'd try to pick him up,” Marissa finally said.

“Up,” Nathaniel said, as if agreeing with his mother.

Jack didn't want to pick him up. He didn't want to feel the little boy's snuggly warmth, didn't want to smell that innocent sweetness of childhood. But he also didn't want to spend the rest of his natural
life trapped in the kitchen in the clutches of a two-year-old.

With a deep sigh, Jack bent and grabbed the boy, wincing as he tried to use his broken fingers. Nathaniel came willingly into his arms, instantly releasing his hold around Jack's cast and replacing it with a stranglehold around his neck.

Jack tried not to feel, not wanting to experience any of the sensations that came with holding a small child. But it was impossible not to smell the baby scent that wafted from Nathaniel, impossible not to be warmed by the chubby body so close to his heart.

“Take him,” Jack demanded of Marissa. “Take him and go.”

“But the dishes…” Marissa protested as she worked to take the wailing Nathaniel from him. Marissa stood so close to Jack he could once again smell the sweet scent of her. If he wanted, he could lean forward and kiss her freckles. If he wanted, he could capture her luscious mouth with his. But of course, that was the last thing he wanted.

“Look, you've gone above and beyond the call of duty. I'll manage the rest of the cleanup. Just go.” He wanted her gone. He especially wanted the kid gone. Jack had no room in his life for do-gooders with sweet smiles and illusory idealism.

Something about Marissa made him think of deep kisses and warm flesh. Something about Marissa and her child made him recall old hopes, half-remembered dreams.

“You'll be all right?” She raised her voice to be heard over Nathaniel's cries of displeasure.

“I'll be fine,” Jack assured her. “I'm going to take a nice long nap and I'll call Maria and hire her back. Trust me. I'll be okay.”

She picked up her purse and fished her car keys out of the bottom. She walked to the front door, then turned back to him. “I'm staying at the Mason Bridge Motel, if you need anything. Please don't hesitate to call if there's anything I can do to make things easier for you.”

He nodded. The easiest thing she could do for him was to disappear from his life. “Goodbye, Marissa. Have a nice life.”

The moment she was gone, Jack was able to breathe easier. “Good riddance,” he muttered. He made his way back into the kitchen for a fresh cup of coffee, and that was when he saw it. Nathaniel's diaper bag. The multicolored plastic bag sat on the counter, an indication that she'd be back.

Jack groaned. He didn't know when, but there was no question that Miss Sunshine and her juvenile delinquent would be back.

M
arissa discovered that the diaper bag was missing about an hour later when she went to change Nathaniel's diaper. Drat, she thought as she realized she must have left it at Jack's. She considered driving immediately back to his house, but remembering he'd said he intended to nap, she decided to wait until later.

She took a clean diaper from her suitcase and changed Nathaniel, who'd been cranky ever since they'd left Jack's. The afternoon loomed long before her. She wasn't accustomed to so much free time on her hands.

“So what do you want to do, sweetie?” she asked Nathaniel. Not expecting an answer and not getting one, she moved to the window of her motel room
as Nathaniel grabbed some of his toys and sat on the floor.

They could spend a little time on the beach, but the idea of the heat and the sand didn't hold much appeal. Maybe a nap, she thought. Nathaniel was so crabby, a nap would probably do him a lot of good, and her sleep hadn't been exactly restful the night before.

Decision made, she scooped up Nathaniel in her arms and together mother and son stretched out on the bed. She stroked the boy's forehead to stop his wiggling, and within minutes his eyes drifted closed and his breathing became deep and regular.

As he slept, she studied him, finding delight in each and every miniature feature. He was all Criswell, with his round face, fair complexion and light hair. It was as if nature had known his father would reject him and so decided he'd possess none of Bill's physical characteristics.

She rolled over on her back and stared at the ceiling, her thoughts shifting from her son to Jack Coffey. He certainly hadn't been taken with anything about Nathaniel. She'd never seen a man so uncomfortable around a child.

She swallowed a giggle as a mental vision unfolded in her mind…Nathaniel strangling Jack with a hug around the neck, and the resulting stark panic that had swept over Jack's face.

He intrigued her. He was cantankerous, impatient and downright rude, but beneath it all she sensed a
vulnerability, an unwillingness to share anything of himself for fear of…fear of what?

She scoffed inwardly. She was obviously allowing her imagination to get the better of her. She knew absolutely nothing about Jack Coffey, and had no desire to get to know him further.

Shaking her head, she tried to clear her mind of his image, but it didn't work. Those blue eyes, so cold when irritated but so warm when amused, were difficult to dismiss. And that smile…it had an edge of wickedness to it that made her body temperature rise in response.

Still, he wasn't anything like the type of man she envisioned as her Mr. Right. She closed her eyes and fought to summon the image that had been her dream man since the day Bill had walked out on her.

She had no real mental image of how her dream man would look, but she knew he'd have a shy smile and gentle eyes. He'd be a soft-spoken man who would have all the ideals she did. They would be two halves of a whole, completely in tune with each other on all issues.

The man she would eventually marry would also adore Nathaniel. He wouldn't call him “the kid” or “the monster” and his features wouldn't radiate panic each time Nathaniel came near.

She had a feeling Jack was rarely in tune with anyone on anything. He'd obviously been born to
be a bachelor and she pitied any woman who might try to change his mind on that particular issue.

It was nearly three in the afternoon when Nathaniel awakened Marissa by attempting to wiggle out of her embrace. She caught him just as he was about to plunge headfirst off the end of the bed. “Hey, partner, where are you going?” She tickled his tummy, sending gales of childish laughter into the air.

“You want to go bye-bye?” she asked as she scooped him up and placed him on the floor.

“Bye-bye,” Nathaniel agreed, going to the motel-room door and reaching for the doorknob.

Marissa laughed. “Wait a minute, munchkin. I need to clean up a little before we go.” Her plan was to go back to Jack's and grab the diaper bag, then she and Nathaniel would take a little drive and find an interesting-looking restaurant for dinner.

It was nearly four by the time she pulled up in front of Jack's house. The beach scene was idyllic. For a moment she stood outside the car, enjoying the peaceful beauty. The waves rolled to the sandy shore, the rhythmic slap audible from where she stood.

Jack must have paid a fortune for the glass-fronted house with its own private beach, she thought. The private investigation business must be a lucrative one.

As she climbed the stairs to the door with Nathaniel in her arms, she hoped Jack had managed to
get a nap. He'd looked so tired during breakfast, and there had been moments when dark shadows had stolen the light from his incredibly blue eyes.

In and out, she told herself as she knocked on the door. There was no reason to linger. She'd grab the diaper bag, then be on her way.

“Come in,” his voice barked from somewhere in the house.

She opened the door and stepped inside, instantly spying him at the computer workstation. He was clad in a pair of navy cotton shorts and a gray T-shirt and when he turned to look at her, she realized that at some point during the afternoon he'd shaved.

“I figured it was you,” he said.

“Yes, it's me,” she said inanely, unable to stop staring at his face. Without the cover of the whiskers, he was far more handsome than she'd even imagined. The scruffy facial hair had detracted from his high cheekbones and sensual mouth and had completely hidden a small cleft in his chin.

“What are you staring at?” he asked gruffly.

“Nothing…you…” She flushed. “You shaved.”

He raked a hand across his jaw. “Yeah. I took a bath, too. If you want to call it that. I discovered a cast definitely presents a challenge in that particular department.”

“You look very nice.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Thanks.” Again
his voice was gruff and he turned back around to the computer. “Your bag is in the kitchen,” he said.

Nathaniel wiggled in Marissa's arms, wanting to be released. “Down,” he demanded.

“No, Nathaniel.” Marissa held tighter to the little boy. She went into the kitchen, grabbed the diaper bag, then returned to the living room where Jack was punching computer keys with a single finger.

“Did you call Maria to rehire her?” she asked.

Once again he turned his chair to face her. “I tried to call her, but she wasn't home. Bingo can last for hours, so I figured I'd try to reach her tomorrow.”

“Did you manage to nap?”

“Yeah, I slept for a couple of hours.”

“Nathaniel and I are on our way to a restaurant for dinner. Would you like to join us?” The invitation sprang from her lips before she was consciously aware of the intent to offer it.

“Can't.” His brows pulled together in what had become a familiar frown. “I've got to get this report out in the morning mail and at the rate I'm going, I'll be here all night.”

“I offered to help,” she reminded him.

“Yeah, you did, didn't you?” He studied her for a moment, his frown deepening. “Does the offer still stand?” The words came slowly, as if pulled from the depths of his stubbornness, and revealing his deep reluctance to admit he needed her help.

“Of course the offer still stands.” So much for her plan of a quick stop, she thought.

“Actually, I've got several reports that need to be typed.” He didn't look at her.

“Jack, I don't mind helping. Whatever you need done, I'll do.”

“I could order in pizza,” he suggested.

“Okay,” she agreed. She set Nathaniel on the floor and handed him several toys from the diaper bag, then walked over to the workstation. “Just show me what you need done.”

“I've got rough drafts of the reports handwritten here.” He gestured to a small stack of papers next to him. Marissa leaned forward to look at them.

She was close enough now to smell him, the crisp, clean scent of minty soap mingling with the whisper of a pleasantly male cologne.

He clicked the computer mouse with his left hand. “And here is the report form I use. It's pretty self-explanatory.”

She leaned closer to view the monitor, so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body. Again she was struck by his utter, almost overwhelming masculinity.

She tried to concentrate on his explanation of the form, but her attention was captured by the strength in his hand, his sinewy forearm, the bulge of his biceps and the width of his shoulders.

Jack Coffey appeared to be in peak physical condition and Marissa was suddenly reminded of the
fifteen extra pounds she'd carried since Nathaniel's birth. Fifteen pounds that absolutely refused to go away.

“Think you can handle it okay?” He turned to look at her and his face was so near, his mouth so close to hers, her breath caught in her chest.

His eyes deepened in hue, becoming dark, drowning depths that beckoned Marissa to fall in. “Yes, I can handle it,” she said, her voice seeming to come from a long distance away.

“Good. I've got just one more question.”

“What's that?” Marissa fought the need to wet her lips.

“What kind of pizza do you like?”

She straightened, breaking the spell she'd momentarily fallen into. “Pizza?” she echoed. “It doesn't matter. Anything is fine.”

Fire burned her cheeks as she moved aside so he could get out of the computer chair. What had she been thinking? That he'd ask her if he could kiss her?

Why on earth would she want Jack Coffey to kiss her? He was nothing more to her than an unlucky victim of an accident, nothing more than a disagreeable man whom fate had momentarily thrown in her path.

“Uh…you'll have to help me keep an eye on Nathaniel,” she said. “I can't concentrate on typing and watch him at the same time.”

“Can't we just shackle him?” Jack asked dryly.
He held up a hand before she could retort. “Okay, I can tell by the look on your face that's out of the question. I'll keep an eye on him, but if he comes at me wielding anything that remotely resembles a weapon, I'm calling for backup.”

Marissa laughed. Under his gruffness, beneath his crusty exterior lurked a delightful sense of humor she could only appreciate. She sobered as she sat on the chair in front of the computer.

She had a feeling it would be in her best interest to type the reports quickly and put as much distance as possible between her and Jack.

Okay, she could admit to herself that physically he was quite appealing. And she'd go further and admit that she apparently was vulnerable to the flutter of sexual tension he created in her. But he certainly wasn't the kind of man she'd want in her life for anything long-term.

Her relationship with Bill had been stupid. Falling into anything remotely resembling a relationship with Jack would be sheer insanity.

She smiled inwardly, amused that a single moment of locked gazes between them could invoke such serious contemplation.

She'd type his reports, share a pizza, then be done with him and get back to her vacation. With this thought in mind, she placed her hands on the keyboard and began to type.

 

Jack leaned back on the sofa and stretched his leg out on the coffee table, a mean feat as he maneu
vered around the accumulated trash that littered the surface.

He hadn't meant to ask Marissa to stay and help him out, but after an hour of struggling to type, he'd been desperate.

He frowned as Nathaniel stood and approached him, a miniature plastic truck in his chubby little hand. If it had been a metal truck, Jack would have been worried.

“Twuck.” Nathaniel held the vehicle out to Jack.

“Yeah,” Jack replied absently, his gaze going to the woman at the computer.

There had been a brief moment when they'd been so close together that all he'd been able to think about was kissing her. It had been a momentary lapse into derangement, and thankfully he hadn't followed through on the impulse.

Still, what that impulse had prompted him to think about was the monklike way he'd been living for the past several years.

What he needed was to find a woman who believed in the same things he did: no commitments, no emotional entanglements, just good old-fashioned lust.

He knew with certainty that Marissa Criswell would not understand those particular rules. She would not only expect, she would demand emotional involvement. Besides, she was here only for the next couple of weeks, then she'd return to her life in Kansas City and her hopes of finding Mr. Right.

If Jack was lucky, he might be able to manipulate her guilt over his accident to get a couple more home-cooked meals out of her before she left the area.

Thinking of meals, he grabbed the phone and punched in the number for his favorite pizza place. It took him only a minute to order a supreme thick-crust pie. He hung up, then jumped in surprise as Nathaniel climbed up on the sofa next to him.

“Twuck,” Nathaniel repeated, and held out the truck to Jack. His appealing blue eyes held Jack's gaze without flinching, in complete concentration as only a small child could do.

With a feeling of resignation, fighting against distant memories that brought with them both pleasure and pain, Jack took the truck.

Nathaniel beamed his approval, then pointed to his mother. “Mommy.”

“Yeah, right. That's your mommy,” Jack agreed. It had been five years since Jack had been around a child Nathaniel's age.

For the past five years Jack had consciously made decisions that would keep him isolated from children. He didn't eat in family restaurants, he didn't go to the zoo or to amusement parks. But there was no way to avoid this child who seemed insistent to make a connection with him.

“Light.” Nathaniel pointed to the light overhead.

Jack nodded, wondering if they were going to go
through Nathaniel's entire repertoire of speaking words and pointing to the appropriate objects.