How easily the word we slid from his mouth, bringing images of creating a normal family life.
“He would like that…. His birthday.” Her hand fluttered to rest on her stomach. “He was an emergency C-section delivery. The placenta began to separate, and the doctor had to go in—” She blushed, staring at her crossed feet. “Oops, TMI.”
“TMI?”
“Too much information.” She tugged the hem of her sweater, molding cashmere to the gentle swell of her breasts. “You don’t need to hear all the details.”
Jacob waited for her to continue. He wouldn’t let her shut down now that he finally had her talking.
Dee shoved away from the wall, pacing restlessly, straightening a basket with coffee essentials, nudging the duffel upright with her toe, straightening the bedspread. “I used to mourn having lost out on the childbirth experience. Now I thank God for that scar.” She turned to Jacob. “It made me work harder at regaining my memory. Who knows how long I would have floated otherwise?”
“You’re a stubborn lady.” He admired the fortitude she had to possess in order to trudge through biting Rockfish winds to get back to the hotel after her ex had left her for dead on a deserted road. “I think you’d have punched through the fog before long.”
Dee paused from evening out the mini-blinds to smile. “Thank you again for all you’ve done.”
He didn’t want her gratitude. What did he want? She was important to him. A couple of weeks ago he would have said too important and run like hell. “No thanks needed. And, Dee? We’re going to find your son.”
“You say that with such confidence. I envy your self-assurance.” She crossed to the sofa and dropped to sit beside him. “I’ve made so many mistakes, Jacob—big screw-ups. I can’t help but wonder if this is my punishment, that I’ve somehow brought this on myself and Evan’s the one who will pay.”
“We all make mistakes.” He’d made his own fair share in not connecting with his sister. Hell, look at how he’d never managed a serious relationship in thirty-two years. “Worry about your child, cry for him, shout out your frustration. That’s normal. But put the blame where it belongs. On Blane.”
She shook her head in mute denial.
Jacob silently damned Blane Lambert to hell for making Dee so wary. Evan and Dee, and even Jacob, were all having to pay. “Mistakes are tough to accept, especially when the stakes are so high. I’m not giving up until I find him. You have to trust me to do this with you.”
A spark fired in her eyes. “That’s all great—” she held up a firm finger “—as long as I get to be an equal partner in reclaiming my life and my son. While I’m grateful for your help, I can’t sit back and count on you to do everything for me. I need to take charge, to have some control.”
She flattened her hand against his chest. Memories of making love to her rolled through his mind like a video on fast-forward. He wanted her again, but needed to think about her. She was going through hell right now, had to be suffering from huge emotional fallout after all they’d learned at the police station and from Spike.
Jacob stared at her hand on his chest. She might need him to lay off, but then again, she might need the comfort after hearing about the Suburban in the water, the body near it.
He didn’t even want to think about the implications himself, so he couldn’t imagine how torn up she had to be. The air hung heavy between them as he looked back down at her. “Do you want me to sleep on the sofa?”
A smile, her first today and not much of a smile at that, but a definite tilt to her lips tipped into her cheeks as she swayed toward him. Then he saw the heat, the desire, the need to escape firing into her eyes.
“In the bed, with me,” she said with conviction, sliding her arms around his waist and tipping her face in an unmistakable invitation for a kiss. “Or we could stay here together on the sofa for now, the bed later.”
“Good. Because that’s exactly where I want to be.” He reminded himself now wasn’t the time to talk about futures when hers was so uncertain. All the same, he couldn’t help but want more from her. And the more he wanted, the more he stood to lose.
She’d come full circle, starting in one small lodging room, ending in another. Only this time, she wouldn’t let the world control her.
She’d meant what she’d said. She wanted to share his room, Jacob’s bed.
The thought threatened to scare the warmth right out of her. But her every maternal instinct screamed that her son was alive and she knew she was doing everything possible to find him, thanks to Jacob’s help. She couldn’t find Evan tonight, but she could soothe her heart and soul enough now to carry on the fight tomorrow when she might need every scrap of strength she possessed to cope with whatever they discovered.
Dee angled forward and found his mouth. Jacob looped his arms low around her waist. Kiss for kiss, he twined his tongue with hers, exploring, tasting, demanding.
She pressed against him until he relented and leaned back on the sofa. Anchoring him, she flattened her tender br**sts to his chest, rolled her h*ps against his already rigid arousal. His hands reached for her shirt, and she shoved them away, pinning them to his sides. This was her show, her night to lose herself if only for a few hours.
Dee inched away from him, her mouth being the last thing to break contact. “Don’t move.”
His brows lowered over his moody eyes. He paused, then raised his hands in surrender. Layer by layer, she tossed aside his clothes, rediscovering every patch of his skin with her mouth until tendons strained along his neck.
Again Jacob reached for her. “Dee, enough.”
And again she pushed aside his questing hands. “Not nearly.”
“Well, hell,” he growled. “Then it’s my turn.”