Space in His Heart (17 page)

She tried to
imagine her own father cooking and simply couldn’t. They’d had a
lady who cleaned and left a warm meal for most nights. But Daddy
rarely made it home and most often, as she got older, she ate alone
while she did her homework. Jessica watched Jack Stockard
skillfully handle his beloved skillet.

The house
where she grew up in New Haven seemed so far from the tranquility
of the Stockards
’
suburban refuge. She imagined Deke coming home from school,
sharing his successes with interested and loving parents, teasing
his little sister and planning his career as a Navy
pilot.

“I thought the
PR idea was brilliant.” Valerie interrupted Jessica’s musings.
“Giving NASA a face and a personality. And such a good choice!”

Jack
groaned from the stove. “He should be flying, not pacifying
anchorwomen on the morning talk shows.”

Valerie rolled
her eyes, and before Jessica could defend her plan, Deke came in.
He grabbed one of the maple chairs, turned it around and sat
backward like he probably had in this kitchen a thousand times.
“We’re not going at four, that’s for sure.”

“Really? Is
everything delayed?” Just what she needed—to be gone even longer
during a client crisis.

“Our flight is
scheduled to take off at eight tonight, but I wouldn’t hold out
hope for that.” He reached out and put a hand on her arm. “There’s
nothing you can do about it. Relax.” Then he grinned at his mother.
“What propaganda are you feeding this poor girl, Mom?”

“Propaganda is
her business, Deke.” Jack added from the stove. Definitely not a
fan of the campaign, Jessica decided as she sipped her tea.

Valerie patted
her husband on the back. “Just hush up and admire her work. It got
him home, didn’t it?”

In a few
minutes, Jack presented his culinary masterpiece. With the extra
time, they lingered over the feast, unable to avoid discussing the
topic of the
Today
s
how
interview.

“How serious is
the situation?” Jack asked Deke.

“
Serious.
The guy’s going to die if we don’t get
Endeavour
up there.”

Jessica toyed
with a mushroom on her plate, avoiding eye contact with Deke.

“
What
about the
Soyuz
?” Jack
asked. “The Russians still run that, don’t they? For
emergencies?”

Deke
shook his head. “Putting a man with a blood clot in that soup can
and dropping him to earth would probably kill him. The X-38, the
return vehicle, is on hold… for budget reasons.
Endeavour
is his only safe ride home under these
conditions.”

“Are there
problems with this launch?” Jack asked.

“Might be. A
hydrogen leak is nothing to play with. If we don’t find it…” His
lips formed a thin grimace. “We’re still doing inspections.”

This time she
couldn’t help looking at him. She held his gaze and hoped he could
read the promise in her eyes. No more interviews.

After lunch,
Jessica helped Valerie clear the table while Deke and Jack went to
bring in some wood for the fire.

“So, have you
been spending a lot of time with Deke?” Valerie’s question didn’t
sound completely casual.

Jessica took
the dripping platter Valerie handed her and felt a flush warm her
face.

“PR is not his
favorite assignment, as you probably know. I’ve managed to get him
to do a few interviews and a photo shoot.” She wiped the platter
with a dishtowel and decided to nip Valerie’s curiosity in the bud.
“This is really the most time I’ve ever spent with him.”

Valerie
finished the last pot and ran the faucet to clean the sink, then
suddenly snapped down the chrome lever and looked at Jessica. “Do
you think there are real safety issues with the shuttles? Is it
something I should worry about?”

Jessica had
forgotten this was Deke’s mother. Who could be more pained by the
idea of him exploding into space than this dear woman who brought
him into the world and nurtured him into manhood? How self-centered
to think she was poking around his private life.

“Only if you’re
Micah Petrenko’s mother,” Jessica said softly and honestly. “I know
NASA does everything imaginable to ensure safety.”

Jessica
followed Valerie’s gaze to the snow-covered lawn beyond her kitchen
window. Jack and Deke walked side by side with armloads of wood,
leaving a trail of footprints behind them in the newly fallen snow.
Valerie turned and smiled.

“I wish he were
a pediatrician like his sister.”

No. No
pediatrician. Jack Stockard had raised his son to be a risk-taker.
And try as Deke might to ‘manage the influence’ of his father, Jack
had succeeded.

Chapter
Thirteen

All
flights were delayed until the next morning
,
and as much as that irked Deke, the
blizzard had its positive side. It gave him the chance to be alone
with Jess, to observe her outside of work. He’d never seen her so
relaxed. She’d charmed them all, chatting with his dad and reading
his mom’s old articles. He couldn’t ignore the impact she had on
him. As the day darkened into a snowy night, he couldn’t help but
hope his parents still went to bed very early.

When his mother
announced that they had to say goodnight, Deke tried to seem
appropriately disappointed.

“I’ll show
Jessica to Melissa’s room,” he assured them. “And I’ll check the
flights again before I go to sleep.”

Jack promised
to take them to the airport early in the morning, and finally, they
went to bed.

Jessica
leaned on the banister railing and thanked them again for the day.
She’d changed into jeans in the downstairs powder room after lunch
and the soft pink sweater she wore outlined her feminine
figure.
Best
not to stare, Stockard
.

“You’re not
bailing out, are you?” He cocked his head toward the living room.
“Let’s at least wait till the fire goes out.”

She followed
him but sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, away from
him. “So,” she said with a smile. “The baby kissing. I can’t
imagine how much you didn’t want to go outside the studio and face
the crowds. Why’d you do it?”

“For love of
God, country, and NASA, of course.”

She just looked
at him like she was waiting for the heap of sarcasm.

“And knowing
something had to be done to save your behind, however cute it might
be.”

A flush
darkened her cheeks as she turned toward the fire. He considered
how to get her up on the sofa. Or perhaps he’d join her on the
floor. Just to see what happened next.

Because
something
was
going to
happen next.

“So have you
had enough snow, Miss December?” he asked.

“You have to
admit it feels more like Christmas here than down among the palm
trees.” Crossing her long legs under the coffee table, she looked
out the picture window at the postcard-like image. “Actually, I
like to be in it, not just look at it.”

That was where
he wanted her. In the snow. “Christmas is in the eye of Santa Claus
and he gets everywhere. Even Florida.” He stood and held his hand
to pull her up. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

She rose
slowly, regarding him with caution. “Where are we going?”

“Melissa must
have left an old parka around here somewhere—you can’t go out in
that fancy white thing you wore.”

“You want to go
out? Now? In the dark?”

He guided her
toward the mudroom off the kitchen and flung open the louvered
doors of the coat closet. “You scared of the dark, Jess?”

A worn maroon
ski jacket that belonged to Melissa hung in the far corner. He took
it out and held it toward her with a challenging smile. She said
nothing but slipped it on, a light already dancing in her eyes.

He knew that
would happen. He’d been around her long enough to know that when
something really moved her, she lit up with an inner fire that made
her even more beautiful. And, damn, all he wanted to do was stoke
those flames.

Outside in the
moonlight, she gingerly broke the crispy top layer of snow outside
the mudroom door with the laced-up work boots she wore under her
jeans.

“Nice boots.
You packed for this?”

“I hoped for
this. I thought I could steal a few hours to myself in New York, so
I brought a change of clothes. It ain’t Central Park, but I’m not
complaining.” She ran a few steps ahead into the foot-high drifts
around the cord of wood piled neatly under the back porch. “Hey, I
like this, Stockard. Good idea.”

He held
back, watching her slim legs negotiate the snow and ice. The desire
to kiss her hadn’t dimmed all day since they
’d
talked in Rockefeller Center. Hell, since
before that, he admitted. But today she had been amazing, handling
unexpected crisis, a trip to
his family’s home,
and now the delay
because of
the snow. Most women would be
all aflutter with nerves or complain that they had wasted the day
in the suburbs of New York, especially one who cared about her
career as much as Jess did.

But she’d just
won his parents’ hearts without even trying, and his… well, not his
heart. But the pheromones were being shot off in both
directions.

He slowed his
steps as he followed her path, trying to stop himself from rushing
her, but a hot ache low in his gut urged him on. He reached down to
the snow, scooped a handful, and formed a lightly packed ball.

“Hey, Jess!” As
she turned, it caught her on the side of her arm, his intended
target. She shrieked in surprise but had a return shot ready in
less than two seconds. She was off her mark by a foot.

“A girl’s aim,
that’s for sure.” He laughed and threw another, but she was too
fast and jumped out of the way, running for cover behind an oak
tree, her laughter giving away her hiding place.

“You missed,
Top Gun! Don’t you do this for a living—lock on targets and
stuff?”

He came after
her, around the tree, and shot one at her leg. “Watch out,
sweetheart, bogie on your tail!”

She knelt down,
knowing she was trapped and laughing too hard to get a snowball
formed, so she just pathetically splashed him with snow.

“You’re dead,”
he said softly as he knelt in front of her. She leaned back on her
heels and searched his face in the moonlight.

“I’m dead.”

He reached out
his hand and touched just under her jaw, relishing the sensation of
her pounding pulse under his thumb. Her lips parted and he heard
the quiet intake of her breath in reaction to his touch.

Slowly
leaning toward her, he placed his lips on hers, tasting the frosty
cold that clung to her. As she responded to his kiss, his tongue
gently opened her lips to caress her. Without
lifting
his mouth, he buried his hands
in her hair, pulling her to him as a soft moan escaped her
lips.

He moved his
hands slowly down the puffy nylon of the ski jacket, far removed
from the body he’d been stealthily watching all day. But it was
there, just beneath the layers of warm down.

He could sense
her hesitation, her hands on his shoulders applying gentle pressure
as she returned the kiss. Gently, unwillingly, he parted from
her.

She could only
manage a whisper. “Why did you do that?”

“Because I
wanted to.”

She closed her
eyes and didn’t say anything.

“And I want to
again,” he whispered, leaning close to her mouth. “And again. And
maybe one more time after that.” To prove it, he kissed her
again.

As their mouths
touched, he gently ran his tongue over her icy lips, offering
warmth. She sucked in a breath and he pressed harder, touching her
teeth. He moved his hands around to the front of the parka and
found the zipper at the top. He felt himself grow hard at the heat
of her mouth and the anticipation of more. He slid the zipper one
inch. Her eyes flashed open.

“I want to warm
my hands,” he said huskily.

She held
her hand on top of his on the zipper and stared at him, the black
depths of her eyes shimmering with
the
reflection of the snow in the
moonlight.

“I don’t think
this is a great idea.”

He leaned a few
inches away and traced the line of her lower lip with his fingers,
wanting to taste it again. “You call the shots, Jessie. Take the
risk when you’re good and ready.”

“I’m not
ready.”

Under his
thumb, he felt her lip quiver. “What are you waiting for?”

“I—I
can’t.”

He wouldn’t
force the issue, no matter how hot she could make him in the snow.
He smiled and stood, taking a deep breath to steady what the close
contact and slow kiss had done to his balance and his body. He
reached down to pull her up for a second time that night.

“Come on in,
sweetheart.” He dropped his arm around her shoulder and tucked her
close to his warmth, then they headed for the lights of his
parents’ house.

* * *

Jessica
shivered, but not from the cold. Aware of nothing but the raw power
of
Deke
behind her as
they climbed the stairs to the second floor, both stepping lightly
to avoid waking the Stockards, she struggled to keep from quaking.
The kiss. The hot, cold, steaming, scary kiss lingered on her lips.
Now what?

More. She
wanted
more
.

“This is
Melissa’s room,” he said as they reached a door at the end of the
long hall circling the entryway. Where was his room? Close enough
to…