To a Macallister Born Read online

  “Mmm,” he said, nodding. “Well, my work is cut out for me, and I’m eager to get started. The stairs inside have dried out over the years and need repair. The shutters outside the windows are hanging on by a hope and a prayer. The front steps are sagging, as well as some of the boards in the porch itself. Then there’s the—”

  “Enough,” Jennifer said, smiling. “Let’s face it. My house is terminally ill.”

  “No, it’s not. It just needs some tender lovin’ care, and I’m just the guy to do it.” Jack paused and looked directly at Jennifer. “I’m very good at tender lovin’ care, Jennifer.”

  Jennifer’s heart did a funny little two-step and a curl of warmth swept through her body. “Yes,” she said softly, “I’m sure that you are…good at…” Her voice trailed off.

  They continued to gaze at each other, assaulted by sensual memories as well as the heat of desire.

  “Jennifer.”

  The sound of her name—the simple sound of her name—being spoken by Jack in a voice gritty with heightening want and need that matched her own caused Jennifer to shiver and tear her gaze from his.

  “We agree, then?” Jack said.

  Jennifer snapped her head around to look at him again, her eyes widening.

  “To what?” she said.

  To making love, sweet Jennifer, Jack thought rather hazily. Sweet, slow love for hours and hours—

  He cleared his throat. “To my fixing up this place. You buy the supplies, and my labor is on the house—excuse the pun.”

  “Oh, yes, of course,” she said. “And I appreciate it more than I can tell you.”

  “It will be my pleasure.” Jack glanced around the room. “This home is a fine old lady.”

  Jennifer laughed. “Don’t let Aunt Charity and Aunt Pru hear you call it an ‘old lady.’ They remember when it was built.”

  “Those two are something, aren’t they?” Jack said, matching her smile. “They may be twins, but their personalities are as different as day and night.” He paused and narrowed his eyes as he studied Jennifer. “They’re on the same wavelength about one thing, though. Believing that everybody should be married. I gather they’re really into matchmaking.”

  “Oh, they are, but they gave up on me several years ago, thank goodness.”

  “Don’t be so certain of that,” he said, still looking at her closely. “They’re zeroing in on the fact that you caught that bridal bouquet.”

  “Good grief,” she said, rolling her eyes heavenward. “Those flowers have caused me nothing but trouble. Joey got it in his head that since I caught the bouquet, all I need to do is find—”

  “A groom guy,” Jack finished for her, “who has a suit and tie. The daddy bear.”

  “I hope Joey won’t make himself unhappy because he doesn’t have a daddy like his friend Sammy. There are some things in this life that I just can’t give him.”

  “Do you think that Joe Mackane would have been a good father to his son?” Jack said.

  Jennifer averted her eyes and picked an imaginary thread from her jeans. “Well, I…I have no way of knowing that, do I?” she said, then sighed. “Yes, I do. Joe would not have been a—Never mind.”

  Dear heaven, she thought, what was she doing? She’d said enough that Jack now knew she didn’t believe that Joe would have been a loving and devoted father to Joey. She’d never even hinted at such a thing to anyone before. Why now? Why Jack?

  “I see,” Jack said quietly. “How did Joe measure up in the husband department?”

  Jennifer got to her feet. “I’d prefer not to discuss this further. Why don’t I give you some money so you can shop for what you need to get started with the repairs? That’s more efficient than my attempting to purchase what I don’t know the first thing about. Good idea? Yes, it is. Certainly. Therefore—”

  “Jennifer,” Jack said, rising from the sofa. “I didn’t mean to upset you by bringing up the subject of Joe.”

  “I’m not upset,” she said, fidgeting. “I…I simply don’t wish to talk about him. It serves no purpose.”

  “I agree,” he said, nodding. “But his having an emotional hold on you serves no purpose, either.”

  “He doesn’t,” she said, her voice rising.

  “Doesn’t he?” Jack said quietly, starting toward her. “Well, that’s very good news. That means that when I kiss you, you’re kissing me. Not a ghost of another man. Me.”

  Jennifer watched Jack approach, trepidation, excitement and anticipation intertwining and tumbling through her.

  He came closer…and closer…and…

  Jack stopped in front of Jennifer, framed her face in his hands and lowered his head slowly, so very slowly, toward hers.

  “Me,” he said, then his mouth melted over hers.

  Jennifer encircled Jack’s waist with her arms as she returned the searing kiss in total abandon.

  Kissing Jack, her mind hummed. Not a ghost of Joe. No, never that. Kissing Jack MacAllister. And it was heavenly.

  The room disappeared as a sensual mist encased them, carrying them to a passion-filled place where they wished to stay, savor, want more, so much more. Heat pulsed and coiled and thrummed within them, heightening their desire to a near-frantic pitch.

  A whimper of need caught in Jennifer’s throat.

  A groan rumbled in Jack’s chest.

  The back door slammed, and Joey’s voice reverberated through the air. “Mom! Guess what!”

  Jennifer and Jack jerked apart, then spun around to face the direction that Joey would appear. They each drew steadying breaths, willing their bodies back under control.

  Joey ran into the room and came to a halt in front of the adults. “Mom,” he said, then frowned. “What’s the matter? You look funny.”

  “I do?” she said.

  “Yeah.” Joey cocked his head and looked at her intently. “Like when we run home from school. Your face is all pink and stuff.”

  “Oh, well, I guess I have the heat too high in here,” Jennifer said.

  No joke, she thought. She was on fire, desire still coursing throughout her. Dear heaven, her son had almost caught her kissing Jack, being held and caressed by Jack. This was terrible, just absolutely terrible.

  “You went outside to play without your jacket, Joey,” she said.

  Joey shrugged. “You didn’t tell me to put it on.”

  “You know you’re to wear it in this weather,” she said. “I shouldn’t have to tell you.” She sighed. “Remember next time. Okay?”

  “’Kay. Guess what?”

  “What?” Jennifer and Jack said in unison.

  “I jumped off my swing from high up and didn’t even fall on my butt. Great, huh?”

  “Marvelous,” Jennifer said, managing to produce a smile. “Just be careful when you do that.”

  “Jennifer, do you—” Jack started, then cleared his throat when he heard the gritty quality of his voice. “Do you have a metal measuring tape?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Joey, would you get it for Jack, please? It’s in the toolbox in the pantry.”

  “Sure,” he said, then was off and running.

  Jennifer turned to look at Jack, a deep frown on her face. “Do you realize what just happened?” she said, keeping her voice hushed. “Joey was seconds away from seeing us when we were…” She shook her head. “I can’t believe that I was so irresponsible, so—”

  “Human?” Jack said, matching her frown. “We weren’t doing anything wrong, Jennifer. Joey is old enough to understand that you’re a woman, as well as being his mother.”

  “Oh, listen to the child expert here,” she said, planting her hands on her hips. “Joey is scouting around for a groom guy, remember? He’d believe he’d hit pay dirt if he saw us kissing. Get your suit and tie ready, MacAllister. Joey would have you signing on the dotted line to be the daddy bear.”

  “We’d just explain to him that people might kiss each other without having plans to get married.” Jack nodded. “He’s a smart kid. He�
�d understand.”

  “Wrong,” Jennifer said, shaking her head. “You’re very, very wrong.”

  “Got it,” Joey said, zooming back into the room.

  “Thanks, sport,” Jack said, taking the measuring tape from Joey. “Let me ask you something, Joey. What does it mean when two people kiss each other?”

  “Jack, for crying out loud,” Jennifer said.

  “You mean old people like you and Mom?” Joey said.

  Jack chuckled. “Yes, old people. Not your friends at school.”

  “Oh, well, when old people kiss,” Joey said, “they get a baby. I saw Uncle Brandon kiss Aunt Andrea when we all went on a picnic, and now they’re going to have a baby.” He frowned at Jack. “How come you don’t know ’bout kissing and babies, Jack?”

  Jack felt a foreign flush of heat creep up his neck, then glowered at Jennifer when she laughed.

  “Yeah, Jack,” she said. “How come?”

  “I guess I forgot,” he said. “Old people forget things sometimes.”

  “Oh-h-h,” Joey said, nodding. “Well, if you forget something else, I’ll tell you, ’cause I know a bunch of stuff.”

  “So you do,” Jack said dryly.

  “Do you want to kiss my mom and make a baby, Jack?” Joey said, jumping up and down. “That would be neat-o. You could be the groom guy, my daddy and—”

  Jack reached out and planted his hand on Joey’s head in mid-jump, causing the little boy to stop his pogo stick routine. “How would you like to help me measure some things, Joey?”

  “Cool.” Joey paused. “Why?”

  “Why. Well, because I’m going to do some repairs around here. You know, fix what needs to be fixed.”

  “Sammy’s daddy fixes up their house,” Joey said. “That’s daddy work.”

  Jennifer examined the fingernails of one of her hands. “Need a shovel, Jack?” she said pleasantly. “To dig yourself in a little deeper?”

  “Could you help me out here?” he said.

  “Nope,” she said. “This is between you and Joey. Men stuff. You know what I mean? I’m going to see what’s in the freezer that I can defrost for Joey and Grandma Clark’s dinner. Have fun, you two.”

  As Jennifer left the room, Joey began to jump up and down again. “What are we going to measure first, Jack? Can I hold the tape? Can I pull it out? Can I tell you the numbers? Can I—”

  “Sure, sure,” Jack said, staring at the doorway Jennifer had disappeared through. “Whatever.”

  Had he just been set up? he wondered, narrowing his eyes. Had Jennifer very cleverly manipulated him into a scenario where he was once again a groom guy candidate in the eyes of her son?

  Was one of her many secrets a hidden agenda to actually put the past behind her and snag a husband for herself, a father for Joey?

  Did Jennifer have a well-thought-out master plan that he wasn’t aware of?

  That certainly would follow the rotten pattern of behavior of every woman—every damn one—he’d ever been involved with.

  “Jack?” Joey said, tugging on Jack’s arm.

  “Oh. Right. Ready to get to work?”

  “Yep.”

  “Could you get a piece of paper and a pencil from your bedroom?” Jack said.

  “Yep,” Joey said, then ran from the room.

  No, Jack thought, looking at the empty doorway again. Jennifer wasn’t like the others. Not Jennifer. She was real and honest, didn’t play games. Not Jennifer.

  Why not Jennifer? a little voice in his mind asked ruthlessly. She was a woman, wasn’t she? Members of the female species were clever and sneaky, and always thinking, thinking, thinking.

  Jennifer had a house that was badly in need of repair. And? Bingo. There he was, about to repair it. But that had been his idea. Hadn’t it? Or had he somehow been made to believe that it was? Hell, he didn’t even know anymore how the fix-it-up project came into being.

  Man, oh, man, he was a muddled mess.

  He’d sat in Brandon and Andrea’s apartment and talked a blue streak to convince them that Jennifer wasn’t necessarily being held in the grip of the past by memories of blissfully happy times with Joe Mackane, but possibly by remembrances of a disaster of a marriage.

  Jennifer needed to let go of those ghosts and get on with her life.

  But how did he know, how could he be really certain, that she wasn’t already doing that? How did he know for sure that she, along with Joey, wasn’t checking him out to see if he qualified to be the groom guy, the daddy bear?

  Every woman he’d ever trusted had betrayed that trust with the revelation of what she really wanted. And it was never just him, the man, the person. Hell, no. It was what his money could buy said woman, the materialistic loot, the life-style she coveted.

  Why should Jennifer Mackane be any different from the women who’d come before her?

  But—but Jennifer was Jennifer and…

  “Ah, hell,” he said, dragging one hand over the back of his neck.

  “You can’t say ‘hell’ in our house,” Joey said, reappearing at Jack’s side.

  “Sorry.”

  “Here’s a piece of paper,” Joey said. “I couldn’t find a pencil so I brought a red crayon. Red crayons are good.”

  “Fine,” Jack said. “I’m an award-winning architect who will be writing down measurements with a red crayon. Why the hell not? It makes about as much sense as the rest of my life at the moment.”

  “You can’t say ‘hell’ in our house,” Joey repeated.

  “Sorry,” Jack said again. “Be patient with me, Joey. I’m old, remember? Not only that, but I’m very, very confused.”

  Chapter Seven

  Jennifer stood by the front windows in the living room, watching Joey and Jack stack supplies close to the house on the grass near the edge of the sidewalk.

  Joey had pleaded to be allowed to accompany Jack on the shopping trip, and Jennifer had finally agreed, with the stipulation that Joey wear his seat belt while riding in the vehicle.

  With the pair’s departure had come the silence within the big, empty house. With the silence had come niggling, negative voices in Jennifer’s mind—voices that gained more and more volume—regarding her decision to spend time with Jack.

  She sighed and shook her head. She was driving herself crazy. The longer Joey and Jack were gone, the more doubts she had that she could handle being in close proximity to Jack for the measured amount of days—and nights—he’d be in Prescott.

  Fear that she was making a terrible mistake reached through her like icy tentacles. She could very well be playing emotional roulette, she concluded, and that was a very dangerous and foolish thing to do.

  She had Joey to consider, too. She had to be concerned about his obviously growing attachment to Jack. She had to make crystal clear to her son that Jack was only in Prescott temporarily, then hope Joey wouldn’t fantasize otherwise. Joey had to comprehend that when Jack left, they’d never see him again.

  By the time she’d showered and dressed for work, Jennifer mused, still looking out the window, she’d done a complete reversal of her original decision.

  She could not, would not, share any more desire-evoking kisses with Jack MacAllister. She had no choice as far as seeing him—the agreement regarding the repairs on the house was a done deal.

  But she’d mentally place Jack in the same category as Brandon, or Ben, or Taylor. A brother type, a buddy, a pal. Jack would no longer be an attractive man, but a platonic friend.

  As Jennifer stood there drinking in the sight of Jack, her heart was racing and the new familiar heat was pulsing in her body. She wanted to rush out the door and into his arms, feel his lips on hers, savor the power and masculinity of his magnificent body.

  “Oh, Jennifer,” she said aloud wearily, “make up your mind, would you, please?”

  What she had to do was deliver, like a mantra, the same speech to herself that she would give to Joey: Jack was here temporarily. Jack would leave. She would never see Jack MacA
llister again.

  And while he was in Prescott, she was going to grab a handful of life and live it to the maximum, rejoice in her womanliness, tuck each precious memory of what she shared with Jack safely away.

  There, she thought dryly. She’d made up her mind. Again. Until when? The next time she was alone too long, the house was too quiet, the nagging voices in her mind spoke more loudly than her present resolve?

  Oh, yes, she was definitely driving herself crazy.

  As Joey and Jack started toward the porch, Jennifer went to the front door and opened it.

  “Hi, Mom,” Joey said, running into the house. “We got great stuff. Guess what? Jack bought me my very own hammer, ’cause I’m going to be his helper.”

  “Wow,” Jennifer said, smiling at her excited son. “Your very own hammer. That’s very special.”

  Jack entered the house, and Jennifer closed the door behind him. She gave him a quick smile, then redirected her attention to a chattering Joey, who was telling her in great detail about everything he and Jack had purchased.

  Jack unbuttoned his jacket while his gaze was riveted on Jennifer. Beautiful, he thought. The burnt-orange dress she was wearing was a perfect color for her, and the simple style accentuated the womanly curves of her figure.

  And her face as she listened to Joey! So open, so honest, so radiant with pure, motherly love.

  How could he have doubted the realness of this woman? How could he have relegated her to the dubious ranks of all the other women he’d known? How could he have done such a crummy thing?

  This was Jennifer, for heaven’s sake, who was like no woman he had ever met before. She didn’t have a sneaky agenda regarding him, wasn’t after his money, his social status. Hell, no, not Jennifer Mackane. Sure, he’d just met this woman, but he knew her, deep down in his bones, in his heart.

  “Well, I see you’re ready for work,” he said. “I’ll take off and be back in the morning to get started on this place.”

  “I’ll stay home from school so I can help you, Jack,” Joey said.

  Jennifer laughed. “Nice try, mister. You’ll go to school in the morning, as usual.”

  “There’s plenty to do around here, Joey,” Jack said. “You’ll get to use your new hammer as much as you want to, no doubt about it.”