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He was unsure of how far her welcome extended, but when she opened her mouth against his, the tip of her tongue licking at his lips, he wanted to growl in triumph.
Instead he let her in, he let Mia all the way in. He just opened himself up and hoped that she would find a home somewhere inside the mess of his life and heart.
Because he needed her. He always had, he’d just been too stupid to know it.
He pulled away from the sweet kiss, even though it was counter to everything he wanted to be doing.
“You’re hurt,” he said, and after a moment she nodded. “Can you sleep?” he asked and she laughed a little.
“Eventually,” she said, and then she blinked up at him, her eyes radiant, her face so lovely it actually hurt. “Thanks. For the game. It’s been a long time.”
“We’ll play again,” he said. “Tomorrow.”
She shook her head. “Tomorrow night my mom and sister are going to be here.”
“And we can’t play chess?”
She stared at him for a long time. “My mom and sister both know this marriage isn’t real, but it hasn’t stopped my mother from hoping—”
“I told you I would stay,” he said in a rush. “We could try to make this real.”
She shook her head, her eyes dry as a bone. “I’ve got no more hope to be lifted Jack,” she said. “I can’t manage to care anymore. I’ve been left by you too many times to count.”
“I didn’t know,” he said in his own defense.
“Would it have been so different if you had?”
“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully.
“I do,” she said quietly. “I’ve always known everything was second to your work, your…dream. And just because you no longer have that dream, doesn’t mean I’m ready to believe I can take its place. I think you’re searching, Jack, and I’m in the right place at the right time.”
“It’s not like that.”
“It feels like it is, Jack. And that’s enough for me. When my family gets here, I’m going to tell them we’re getting a divorce and then…maybe we should just keep our distance.”
Keep our distance.
Funny how he’d managed to do that for years without even trying, and now it seemed impossible.
12
The next morning, Jack booted up his sleek little laptop for her and showed her the icon for her calving worksheet. He was so close she could smell the sunshine and pine on his skin; the heat of his body bathed the side of her face, her right hand.
“You got it?” he asked, not exactly cold, but not the Jack who’d played chess with her the previous night.
Don’t you dare feel bad, she told herself. Don’t you dare. That man hurt you more times than you can count, and the second you decide to protect yourself, for once, you feel bad?
Don’t be such a girl, Mia.
“I think I can manage.”
“You have your notebooks?” he asked, stepping away from the bed. He wore his old cowboy hat, the brown one with the black band. He’d said he found it in the barn this morning, surprised that it was still kicking around.
She’d just nodded, like she hadn’t hidden it in the barn almost the minute he left for college. Worn it when missing him had been so powerful she couldn’t stand herself.
Wearing the hat changed Jack McKibbon, mutated the mild-mannered scientist into something more primal and earthy. He looked sharp and focused.
Painfully hot.
“Chris is bringing them to me,” she said, and Jack nodded.
“Call my cell if you need anything. I’m heading over to the Stones’.”
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Jeremiah had a question about the alfalfa irrigation system. Told him I’d take a look at it.”
“Look at you,” she said with a smile, and then hated herself for smiling. “You just can’t resist a water problem.”
“Well…” Jack’s smile sliced through the shadows under his hat. “Jeremiah’s not likely to bomb me, so I figured I’d do what I can.”
Jack walked out her door, leaving behind currents and eddies that teased and tugged at her, pulling and pushing her off balance. And she could only sit there, aching and battered, and wish he’d never come back to this ranch.
Chris knocked on her door a few minutes later.
“Come on in,” she said, and the old cowboy took a tiny step into her room, looking highly uncomfortable to be there.
She grinned at her old friend. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Christ, Mia,” he said, unable to look at her. “You’re in your pajamas.”
“Which happens to be an old flannel shirt. It’s not like I’m here naked.”
“Still,” he said, taking another step into the room. “It’s not right. Here.” He handed her the three notebooks she’d filled with calving information and notes.
“Thanks.” She took the notebooks and Chris hightailed it to the door. “Wait.”
He groaned but turned to face her. “How is Jack working out?” she asked.
