ThreeReasonsWhy (12 page)

“I am.”

Jill held her sister’s gaze and smiled. “We really do need
to go downstairs and get things going.”

Kate nodded and led the way as they walked down to the diner
together. “So how’s the whole shacking-up-together thing going?”

Living with Wes was pretty damn terrific. He was a hell of a
lot of fun, in and out of the sack, and she desperately wanted to hang on to
him for a little while longer before she faced reality.

“Awesome,” she confessed.

As they entered the kitchen, Kate banged on a drawer to pull
out an apron, and Jill grinned.

“Wes fixed that drawer weeks ago. We don’t have to hit it
anymore to get it to open.”

“Ah, Mr. Handyman strikes again.”

Wes
had
been an extremely handy man to have around
these past few days. He kept the bathrooms functioning, unclogged her kitchen
sink, fixed three drawers and a slew of other silly things that had been
annoying her for months. The place was running like a well-oiled machine thanks
to him.

Her initial concerns about his payment demands had all been
for naught. With him living in her apartment, neither of them had bothered to
keep track of his hours, instead enjoying each other’s company. He’d started
running with her and they’d begun to eat a late dinner together every night in
the diner after the initial dinner rush passed. His dirty clothing and hers
mixed together in the laundry basket, his socks and T-shirts were in her
dresser, and his shoes were in her closet. She couldn’t begin to explain to
herself why those things pleased her so.

“Oh God. Goofy, too-pleased grin. You are
way
smitten,” Kate teased.

Jill decided to toss the ball back into her sister’s court.
“Gee. Look in a mirror much?”

Kate smiled. “You’re right. Rick loves me to distraction. He
puts me on a pedestal and treats me like a queen. He’s made me so happy that
most days I wake up and pinch myself just to make sure it’s all real.”

Jill took her sister’s hand and squeezed it. “I know he
does. And I’m glad. No one deserves that happiness as much as you.”

“Wes feels the same way about you,” Kate said.

Jill knew Wes loved her. Knew it with all her heart. She
also knew she couldn’t accept those emotions. Her secret would destroy what was
growing between them and then she’d have the rest of her life to nurse the
broken heart he was going to leave in his wake.

* * * * *

“I’m gonna dump this garbage,” Jill called over her shoulder
to no one in particular. Cheryl and Lottie had returned in time for the dinner
shift, and Kate had returned home to Rick. Wes had gotten home a few minutes
earlier and gone upstairs to change out of his uniform before coming down to
join her for a late dinner.

The second she opened the door, she cursed her stupidity in
failing to grab her jacket. A bitter cold front had moved in. Not unusual for
late March, but definitely not her favorite kind of weather.

“Bring on the summer,” she muttered as she stepped on to the
landing. Her feet immediately flew out from under her as she slipped on a large
patch of ice. She banged her arm on the stairs as she fell, bumping down three
steps roughly on her ass.

“Aaaah!” she yelled.

“Jill?” Wes called out from the kitchen.

“Fuck.” She rubbed her sore arm. “Out here.”

He opened the back door. “What the hell?” he asked, bolting
down the steps, nearly slipping on the ice himself.

“I fell,” she said, feeling like an idiot for stating the
obvious. “Here, help me up.”

He bent down and gently lifted her to her feet, concern
written on his face. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine. Nothing but a bruised arm, ass and pride.”
She held on to his arm as he helped her back into the kitchen. “Guess I’ll go
upstairs and change out of these wet clothes.”

“I’ll be there in a minute to make sure you’re all right. I
want to check something first.”

She nodded and headed upstairs to her apartment. She rubbed
her arm and shook her head. If it wasn’t for bad luck, she wouldn’t have any
luck at all lately. She heard Wes’ footsteps and turned as he walked in.

She was about to walk back to the bedroom when Wes halted
her with a firm hand on her upper arm. His dark face told her he was upset.

“Wait a minute,” he said.

She faced him, confused. “What’s wrong?”

“Those stairs were a solid sheet of ice.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I fell on them. Remember?”

Wes scowled and she wondered at his sudden fury. “There
hasn’t been any precipitation, Jill. Cold air alone can’t produce ice.”

She paused, considering his words. “You’re right.”

“Someone put water on those stairs knowing it would freeze.”

She tried to process his words. For nearly a week, there’d
been no more pranks, no more juvenile attacks against her or her diner. “I
thought whoever was mad at me had given up.”

“Obviously they haven’t. Take off your shirt.”

“What?”

“You winced when I touched your arm, so you’re hurt worse
than you’re letting on. Take off the shirt or I’ll take it off for you.”

Her temper snapped at his angry tone, her nerves rubbed raw
by the combination of his overbearing nature and her frustration at being
attacked again. “I’m fine.”

Wes reached over and ripped her blouse open in one hard
pull. Buttons flew in every direction as the material tore. She was equal parts
shocked and aroused by his domineering move.

“Wanna play rough, huh?” she asked, fury evident in every
word. “Fine.” Reaching over, she mimicked his actions, tearing his button-down
shirt open.

Wes glanced at his destroyed shirt for only a second before
rushing to unbuckle and remove his belt. He bent the leather in half and
slapped it over his palm.

“I should take you over my knee for that,” he said, swinging
the belt in front of her menacingly.

She laughed at his threat. “I’d love to see you try.
Careful, cop. I think you may have met your match.”

He dropped the belt and reached over to pull her blouse off
completely. He looked at the darkening bruise on her arm. “You must have
knocked it pretty hard.”

“It’s just a bruise,” she muttered. “I’m probably gonna have
one on my ass too. Wanna kiss it?” She added the last in such a way that left
no doubt exactly how she intended for him to kiss her ass.

A grin crossed his face as he placed his hands on her
shoulders and turned her away from him. He bent down to grasp the hem of her
denim skirt, hiking it over her hips. He slowly peeled her leggings and panties
down before kneeling behind her. His hot breath and calloused hands warmed her
cool flesh. She sucked in a sharp, excited gasp as his lips and tongue traveled
along the smooth skin of her ass.

Her anger fled as overwhelming desire filled every spare
inch of her body. “Damn it,” she said. “I’m trying to be pissed off at you and
you’re distracting me.”

He chuckled but didn’t answer as he continued caressing her
ass with his lips, his hands, his tongue. The now-familiar sensations he evoked
in her body emerged fully. He gently pushed her legs apart and she struggled to
remain standing when his fingers made their way to the hot opening of her body.
Finding her wet and ready, he shoved in three, catapulting her to near-orgasm
in just one thrust.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, loving his rough touch, his
demanding pushes. Over and over, he worked her needy flesh until she was crying
out with her climax, her inner muscles clenching against his fingers. She
staggered as he pulled his hand away and stood quickly to support her. He
remained behind her and held her gently before reaching around to unzip her
skirt and slide it down. His lips nibbled at the nape of her neck.

Suddenly it wasn’t enough that his hands and lips were on
her. She wanted to touch and taste him. She wasn’t about to play the passive
lover. Turning, she dropped to her knees, and before he could react had his
jeans unhooked and his rock-hard erection in her hand. She stroked the velvet
skin, drawing his cock to her mouth. He’d driven her crazy with his touches,
his kisses, and now she intended to give him a taste of his own medicine. She
wanted him at her mercy, desperate and begging for more.

She played with the head of his cock for several minutes,
teasing the sensitive spot underneath with the tip of her tongue as his hands
roughly gripped her hair. She hissed as he pulled her long tresses, the
powerful tugs making her wild and uninhibited.

“Suck me,” he said through gritted teeth when she continued
to torment him, refusing to engulf his flesh the way she knew he desired.

“Beg me,” she taunted as she glanced up at his face. His
eyes narrowed, his cheeks flushed.

“I really am going to beat your ass,” he said. “As soon as
those bruises fade, I’m going to mark you with a few of my own. Please, Jill.”

She smiled seductively before opening her mouth and taking
him to the back of her throat. She swallowed his head, sucking strongly. She
reached around his hips and gripped his ass with her hands as he began
thrusting into her mouth, his dirty, sexy words driving her on.

“God,” he muttered. “You are so fucking sweet. Your mouth
was made for this. Jesus, pixie. Take it deeper. Deeper. That’s it. Oh shit.
I’m coming.”

His cock erupted, sending hot pulses of come into her mouth
and down her throat. When she released him, he dropped to his knees in front of
her. She grinned as she recognized her earlier affliction had taken him down as
well. His legs wouldn’t support him anymore.

He swooped down to kiss her, and his hands gripped her face
gently as he worshipped her with his lips. When at last he broke the embrace,
he rested his forehead against hers.

“I’m sorry. I think I fucking lost it for a little while
there.”

“Why were you so mad?”

He frowned. “I’m supposed to be protecting you, Jill. When I
saw you lying at the bottom of those stairs, when I knew you’d hurt yourself
and I hadn’t been able to keep you safe…”

She stroked his cheek, kissing him softly. “You aren’t my
keeper, Wes. You can’t swaddle me in bubble wrap.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Are you sure? That sounds sort of
hot.”

“I’m fine. Honest.”

“Lie down,” he said, pushing her to her back on the carpeted
floor.

“Why?”

“I want my cock inside you. Now.”

She opened her legs, thrilled when his rejuvenating cock
entered her bit by bit. He propped himself above her on his elbows, bending
close to kiss her.

He offered her a crooked grin and she wondered why he wasn’t
moving. He seemed content to simply hold himself within her.

“Tired?” she asked.

He shook his head. “We always come together in a heated
moment that’s over in a flash. I want to savor this. Do you have any idea how
good this feels? Your soft body wrapped around mine, your pussy holding my cock
so tightly. You’re always wet, always warm, always perfect.”

“Wes.” She reached up to draw his head down to hers. “Kiss
me.”

He leaned down and kissed her, his lips proving the truth
behind his words. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the moment, to the
magic…to him.

Chapter Eight

Jill topped up his glass of iced tea as Wes finished his
lunch at the counter. After their slow lovemaking on the floor, they’d spent
the remainder of the evening in bed, simply holding each other and talking all
night.

She was amazed by how awake she was. She should be dead
tired after no sleep.

He winked at her and she blushed to realize she’d been
staring at him.

“Hey, Jill. How about a piece of that Dutch apple pie?”
Jonesy called out from the other end of the lunch counter.

“I thought your wife put you on a diet because of your high
cholesterol?” Jill answered.

“That piece of pie won’t hurt anything. I mean, I didn’t ask
for a scoop of ice cream on it, and it’s fruit,” the fire chief replied.

Several people sitting at the counter laughed as she shook
her head and gave him a stern look. “I’m telling you right now, Jonesy, if I
catch hell from your wife for feeding you pie, you’re going to be banned from
this diner for a month.”

The man considered her threat, and Jill was afraid he was
going to call her bluff. Truth was, she’d never ban the dear man—she enjoyed
his company far too much.

Mercifully, Wes decided to lend a hand. “A whole month?
Damn, Jonesy. That’s a long time. Don’t know if I’d push my luck on that.”

“All right, fine,” Jonesy replied with a scowl. “Skip the
pie. Damn doctors. Damn wife.”

She fought back a grin when the older man looked positively
childlike, sulking over his lost dessert and cursing everyone who was keeping
him from his favorite treat.

“I have some fresh berries in the back. Blueberries and
strawberries. I could even throw a tiny scoop of fat-free whipped cream on
there for you,” she said as a peace offering, hoping to keep him from becoming
too discouraged by his diet. The man had a sweet tooth the size of an elephant.

“Hey, that sounds good,” Wes said. “I think I’ll have that
too.”

Jonesy nodded, pleased by Wes’ support. “Berries would be
great, Jilly. Thanks.”

She smiled her thanks at Wes. He leaned forward, chuckling,
and spoke low so only she could hear. “You’re gonna make a hell of a mother one
day, Jill. You’ve got that powerhouse
don’t mess with me
tone down to a
tee.”

Her smile froze at his words.

What the hell was she doing?

She looked at Wes’ face and knew she’d been wrong. Terribly
wrong to hide something so important from him. With his words and actions, he’d
made it clear what his plans for the future were. She was only prolonging the
agony by lying to him, lying to herself. The reality of her deception crashed down
on her and she knew she’d let things go too far.