She stiffened against him, even more rigid than before when she'd shoved him off her. "You want to come home for the baby."
What a damn odd question. "Of course."
Her fingers untwined from his. The fading sunset rays cast shadows across her face while somehow showcasing the ones in her eyes. "Did you ever really love me?"
Talk about stunned stupid.
Rena wasn't sure who was more shocked by the question, her or her immobile husband.
He recovered faster, though. "I told you I did."
The tide shushed along the shore, reminding her she should have kept her mouth shut.
"Forget I asked." She'd known he was coming home for the baby, but hearing it confirmed seconds ago hurt even more than she'd expected. "I'm being a hormonal, sentimental pregnant woman. I just want to eat my circus peanuts and go home."
How could she trust his answer now that he knew what she expected to hear? She'd given away her whole hand of cards because of a few kisses. Some things never changed.
She hooked her elbow on the open window and popped a circus peanut in her mouth just as the first stars overcame the setting sun.
"No way, babe." He tipped her chin toward him, his touch gentle, his gray eyes filling with storm clouds, all the more powerful considering how rarely her controlled husband lost his cool. "You brought this up and there's not a chance you can deny that I said the words. I know I told you. I may not have said it every time I walked in the room, but I know what came out of my mouth."
Rena swallowed down the lump of sugar too thick for her constricting throat. Did he have to sound so harsh? Pain, betrayal, frustration shifted to anger, mostly with herself for laying her emotions bare before this man. Again. "Oh, get real, J.T. 'I love you, babe, please, please let me get in your pants' doesn't carry much of a romantic punch once the horniness wears off a couple of hours later."
"But it worked," he snapped, then cursed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
She bit back the urge to call him a bastard, since she'd been the one to lash out first with the "getting into her pants" comment. Totally unfair since she'd been just as eager to get into his then—now, too.
His chest rose and fell with regulated frequency. Back in control. Overly so. "I'll try to translate this manspeak into something you'll understand. I gave you the best I had. I know you deserve better, but this baby limits our choices."
"This is exactly why it won't work, J.T. We haven't even been in the house together for two weeks and already we're tearing each other up again."
"And about your question…" He plowed ahead without acknowledging her point.
She didn't want to know. Either way, yes or no, truth or lie, the answer would slice through her. "I said never mind."
"But you said something else after that. Yeah, there was nothing I wanted more than to be inside you, and I intended to make damn sure once you let me get there, you wouldn't be sorry or left wanting. And then when we were together, I found all that locker-room wisdom didn't matter. I didn't need it, not when I had those breathy little sighs of yours guiding me if I just listened." He dipped his head to her neck. "Do you still like it when I kiss you right here?"
The edge dulled on her anger, and God, but she resented him, herself, for the predictability of her body's betrayal.
He sketched higher to her ear. "Or when I do this? You usually purr for me when I do that."
J.T. nipped the lobe, continued to vulnerable patches of skin too long neglected. His hands traveled down her spine in a sensual massage that sent her bowing against him again until finally he cupped her bottom and brought her even closer. "And what about that?"
She whimper-purred her assent and frustration.
"Yeah, babe. I heard you." He stared down with narrowed eyes. Pissed. Insistent, and yes, even aroused. "And maybe I was just meeting some elemental itch you had, and I missed the big picture. But at least I was listening and trying my damnedest."
He withdrew his hands, his body, moving away, the muggy air suddenly chilly in comparison to her overheated flesh.>"How could you know that?"
"Because there wasn't a chance in hell I intended to die without making love to you at least one more time."
Her chin trembled just before she covered her mouth with a hand shaking twice as fast as that delicate pointy chin of hers. Strategy went out the open window on the marshy wind. He raised his hand, glided his knuckles along the waves of her hair.
All the want tamped down from their kiss earlier, from months, from the first time he laid eyes on her, powered to life. He held himself in check. Barely. Now his hands weren't much steadier than hers, so he let his fall to cup the sides of her neck. Her shaky fingers slid to rest on his chest.
And the next thing he knew, they were kissing again.
Not frenzied, like the out-of-control exchange in the parking lot earlier. But slow. Deliberate. No mistaking the mutual intent.