Rock Me All Night

“Sweetheart, we just met.”

She knew what he was saying. Her rational mind said they were still essentially strangers, but she’d shared her heart and the secret she’d always longed to find in a mate with him.

And now she needed to know if the guy that she’d started liking the minute they’d met was going to break her heart. Should she let him in or keep him at the safe arm’s length that she’d kept all other men? And with Jack, would that be easy to do?

“I know, but I told you a secret. And that article made it sound like you had a phobia about things lasting longer than that.”

“Well, I do,” he said, his voice even deeper than its normal tonality.

“Why?” she asked. She’d grown up with one of the country’s leading relationship experts, so Lauren knew firsthand that you had to keep hammering away at the same question until you found the real answer.

“It’s just been my experience. I’m forty-five. I know a lot about myself and my habits.”

“And you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?” she asked around the tightness in her throat. Forty-five. She probably had sounded like a child to him. Saying that she still wanted happily ever after. Her gut argued that she hadn’t. That the truth she’d seen shining in Jack’s eyes was the same desire as hers.

“Watch who you’re calling an old dog,” he said lightly.

She watched the streetlights out the window and tried to pretend it didn’t matter. That his superficial answer to her very real question didn’t hurt. Why should it? She’d just met him. Though it felt different in her soul.

“Lauren…”

She didn’t look at him. Didn’t want to right now. Paul Simon played quietly in the background, and Lauren closed her eyes and concentrated on the lyrics of the song instead of the man who perplexed her and made her yearn for a deeper connection with him.

He cursed under his breath. She felt the car slow and then stop. She opened her eyes. He’d pulled onto the shoulder. She shifted her head on the back of the seat to watch him.

“Why are you stopping?” she asked. His features were stark with only the dashboard illumination. He scarcely resembled the stylish man that she knew him to be. And she wondered if this was the real Jack Montrose seated next to her in the dark. When all the trappings of looks fell away, all that was left was the heart of who he was.

“Because I can’t chase you when I’m driving,” he said.

“I don’t understand.”

He twisted to face her, cupping her jaw in both of his hands. It was the third time he’d touched her face, and she couldn’t help the elemental awareness that shot through her.

“Let me explain it. I’m sorry I can’t promise you more than six months. That I can’t say that you’re the one woman who will make me want more than any other one has. But it’s just too soon.”