Whirlwind (43 page)

I sat, letting my eyes wander around the room. The couch and coffee table dominated the space, facing a set of brick-and-board shelves that held a small TV, a few books, and a stereo. Above the window the air conditioner hummed quietly. Through an open door to the right of the kitchen I saw a synthesizer tucked next to a dresser—his bedroom, I assumed. Two doors on the left were closed, probably the bathroom and the unoccupied bedroom.

“Pretty clean for a bachelor,” I admitted. “Not a dirty sock in sight. It’s great.” I cuddled up next to him, lightly touching his face and the dark marks of exhaustion around his eyes. “You look so tired,” I said.

He smiled weakly. “I haven’t been sleeping so well.”

“I heard.” Another tidbit Mitch had passed on was that Jason had woken up more than once in
L.A.
yelling my name. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long. It wasn’t easy for me either.”

His arm tightened around me, and he kissed the top of my head.

“Don’t be. The fact you’re here now is all that matters.”

Jason’s other hand rested on mine, his knuckles still black from the fight. I never realized that punching someone hurt the aggressor as much as the victim. A fresh scratch on his hand reminded me of something else Mitch had said.

I must’ve frowned, because Jason suddenly tensed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Your hand…” Maybe now wasn’t the time for this. “Never mind.”

Jason ran a warm finger across my jaw, turning my face toward his. “Tell me,” he said.

“Well, Mitch said you gave him a fat lip, and I was wondering why.”

Mitch had brushed it off as tough love between brothers. Jason didn’t say anything.

“Did it have something to do with me?”

“He said something less than flattering about you. Can we just leave it at that?” I stared at him with one eyebrow raised. Mitch cracked plenty of jokes, but he wasn’t one to insult someone behind their back.

Jason returned my stare but eventually gave up and rubbed his eyes. “He asked what else we’d done in Santa Lucia, and I mentioned we’d gone to the beach. He couldn’t believe you wore a bikini, by the way.” He took a deep breath and rubbed his new scratch. “Then he asked me what I thought of your tattoo.”

“You hit him because he mentioned my tattoo?” Something was missing. My body art was hardly worth fighting over.

Jason’s head snapped around. “It’s true?”

“Yes,” I said slowly. “Mitch was with me when I got it. Was that why you hit him?”

“Not exactly. He said all his friends had seen it. I told him he was full of shit, and he laughed and said, ‘It’s just above her left—’ and
that’s
when I decked him.” Jason’s eyes hardened with the words, but I giggled.

“Ankle,” I finished between laughs.

“What?”

“My tattoo. It’s above my left ankle,” I repeated, enjoying the flush on Jason’s cheeks. “I don’t know how you missed it.”

I suddenly felt warm, remembering the way he’d ogled me from head to toe the first time we’d made love. He did the same now, and I fought the urge to fan myself.

“While I love every inch of your body, it isn’t your feet I’m most interested in.” His eyes locked with mine.

The intensity of his stare set my skin on fire. “You owe Mitch an apology,” I said, my voice hoarse.

Smirking, Jason raked his fingers through his hair, smoothing it down a little. “I guess you’re right. He’s still a prick, though.”

I pulled his face down and kissed him deeply. When I leaned back I caught him eyeing my feet, balanced on the edge of the coffee table.

“You want to see it?”

He nodded, and I rolled down my sock to reveal a small blue heart.

“It’s the exact color of Dad’s uniform tie. I used to tease him about it.”

Jason sat up, tilting his head so he could get a better view. “What does 5947 mean?” He touched the black numbers in the center of the heart.

“It’s my dad’s badge number. I put it on my ankle because that’s my kicking foot.”

I shivered when his fingers wandered higher up my leg.

“It’s beautiful, just like the rest of you.”

I slid my foot back down and snuggled under his arm, resting my hand on his chest. This summer was going to be better than I could’ve imagined.

Jason raised my fingers to his face, lightly rubbing them against his lips, lost in thought. As I watched, his brow creased. When his eyes closed, I knew something was wrong.

“What’s bothering you?”

He took a deep breath and gazed down at me. “How long did you say you were staying?” The fear in his voice hit me like a brick, and I sat up.

“I thought you wanted me to stay…” My voice trailed off as I realized I must have misunderstood. “I can change my ticket. I don’t want to impose.” I rolled to the side so I could fish my cell phone out of my pocket.

Jason pulled me close so fast my head spun. “When
exactly
is your return flight?” he said, the edge returning to his voice.

“August nineteenth. I’m sorry, I thought you meant…I mean, I thought you said…”
as long as I wanted.
My throat closed, and my ears grew hot.
What a mistake
.

“That’s
precisely
what I meant. This isn’t a dream, is it?” He caressed my jaw with one finger. “You’re really staying until I leave?” The hope and wonder in his eyes took my breath away.

This
is
a dream, no matter what he thinks.
“Yes, if it’s okay with you,” I whispered, kicking myself for doubting him.

“Oh, Melissa, it’s so much better than okay.” His mouth found mine again, his kiss so deep that time stopped. Panting, he lifted his head and stared, silently loving me. Just like the first time we met, my eyesight faded, and I got another glimpse of a future with him.

The vision was simple this time. The same loving eyes looked down on me, surrounded by gray hair and soft wrinkles. This was where I was meant to be, I knew that now.

“What are you seeing?” he asked, running his fingers through my hair, looping it over my ear.

“The same thing I saw the first time.”

He smiled, just like he had in my imagination.

I traced the collar of
my
shirt on
his
marvelous body. “In those first seconds when I looked in your eyes in the church, I saw a wonderful future with you. I felt your kiss, your touch. I saw our marriage, our children, everything. I saw my entire life, with you.”

His smile faded a little.

I felt the blush rising in my cheeks. “I know, it’s completely crazy. I had no idea who you were, but somehow I envisioned myself with you, forever.”

“And I thought the lightning bolt I felt was eerie,” he said. The smile returned, wider than before. “So, how do I look with gray hair?” he said, reading my thoughts again.

“Just as handsome as you do now,” I said and touched the spot where I’d seen the laugh lines just moments ago. “I love you.”

Jason squeezed me even tighter, and his lips brushed my ear, sending a wonderful tremor through me. “I love you too,” he breathed. He took my hand in his and held it against his chest, over his heart. “Welcome home.”

“I like that.” We sat, comfortably resting our heads together, and I realized those two words signaled both an end and a beginning in my life. I’d finally resolved my grief, after all these years, and with that acceptance found a new beginning in a love that could possibly last the rest of my days. In Jason’s love, I’d finally found my home.

Enough with the mushy.
Naughty Melissa was growing restless.

“I’ve got one question though,” I said with a smirk.

“I bet I know.”

“Where’s the bed?” we said together.

Acknowledgments

Whirlwind
wouldn’t be what it is without the help of many incredibly smart people. Thanks must first go to Elizabeth Harper: This journey started with you, and most fittingly has come full circle back to you. Thank you for your faith, support, and hard work on my behalf.

Thank you to Meredith Stratton, Linda
Rusiecki
, Lorraine
Gabbert
, and
Kindra
Cherry for the many hours you put into critiquing the various incarnations of
Whirlwind
. To Amy, Cindy, Kathy, Killian, Linda, Meagan, and
Rie
, and my
NoDisclaimers
critique group: Thanks for your time, honesty, and sense of humor.

There’s much more to a book than a manuscript, and many thanks go to Sherry Wilson,
Rosana
Rivera, Sarah
Huchel
, and Raquel Cochran for your expertise in bringing those extra pieces to fruition.

Thank you to my editor and new friend, Jessica Royer
Ocken
, for your great insights and long hours, and to all of Team Whirlwind at
Omnific
Publishing.

This book would not be complete without a huge thank you to my family. You are my biggest fans, having endured take-out dinners, piles of laundry, and an endless train of Jason-this and Melissa-that without a single complaint. My kids, my husband, our parents…I couldn’t have done this without you. I love you all.

And finally, thank you, dear reader, for letting yourself get caught up in
Whirlwind
.

About the Author

Originally from Arizona, Robin
DeJarnett
has lived most of her life in Northern California. A former engineer, computer administrator, and saleswoman, she draws on her experiences, as well as her love of travel and sports, to make her stories as realistic as possible.

When not writing, Robin is a cook, chauffeur, housekeeper, maid, life coach, travel consultant, psychologist, roadie, financial advisor, and
EMT
— for her loving children and husband, at least.

Robin loves to hear from her readers. You can contact her through her website: robindejarnett.com