Red

“How have I ruined your life?” she asked softly. “By having you? By loving you?”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, stuffing his hands into his front jeans pockets. “I didn’t mean that.”

“But I think you did. And that’s why I’m worried.”

“Mom—”

“No.” She held up a hand. “No more. Not now.” She glanced at her watch and sighed. “There are some things I need to discuss with you, but I can’t now. I’m going out tonight.”

“Out?” Jack repeated, surprised. His mother rarely went out at night. She spent so much time on location out of town that when in town, she enjoyed being home.

“I’m meeting an old friend.” She slipped out of her vest and hung it on the back of one of the chairs set up around the small oak table. “You’ve never met her. She got out of the business right around the time you were born.”

“She was a makeup artist, too?”

“She did hair. She opened her own salon fifteen years ago and has done quite well.”

Jack frowned. Something about his mother’s tone bothered him. “Why are you meeting her?”

She met his gaze, drawing her eyebrows together. “I told you, she’s an old friend. Besides, it’s not your place to question me. I’m the parent here, and you’re in big trouble.”

“But Mom—”

“No buts.” She crossed to the phone. “I’m calling Mrs. Green next door to let her know I’m going out and to ask her to check up on you.”

“Check up on me?” Jack squared his shoulders, outraged. “I’m sixteen, not twelve.”

“Then act it.” She picked up the phone. “You’re not to leave the house. No television tonight, no phone, no stereo.”

No Gina. He took a step toward her, hand out in entreaty. “But, Mom, I wanted to ask if I could go—”

“No way.” She punched out the neighbor’s number, then propped the phone to her ear with her shoulder. “You’re grounded.”

Grounded? He bristled. She had never done that to him before, and he didn’t like it. Not one bit.

When she got off the phone, they ate dinner. Quickly and without conversation. They straightened up the kitchen together, then she went to freshen up. While she did, Jack thought about Gina, about her invitation and about the evening’s possibilities.

The evening had no possibilities, he reminded himself glumly. He was grounded. Swearing under his breath, he dragged out the phone book and looked up Gina’s number.

He found it, picked up the phone, then returned the receiver to its cradle without dialing. He wasn’t going to cancel his date.

Mrs. Green never heard a thing. He called the woman early, told her he wasn’t feeling well and was going to turn in. Although only eight, it sounded as if he had awakened her. Some watchdog. He slipped out of the apartment and headed down the street to Tony’s, the Italian restaurant where he worked. Danny, one of the other busboys, had offered to lend Jack his wheels before. Tonight, Jack was going to take him up on his offer.

With a promise to have the car back by midnight, he started off. Gina lived in the Hollywood Hills, located in the foothills of the Santa Monica Mountains. He found her house without a problem, though it took longer than he had expected.

Grabbing the stack of textbooks—none of them French—he started up her walkway. He prayed she was here and wasn’t too mad that he was late.

Gina opened the door before he had a chance to knock. She wore a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a chambray shirt, tucked into her denims and unbuttoned at her throat. He moved his gaze over her, his chest tight. “You look…great.”

“Thanks.” She smiled. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“Sorry. It was tough getting out tonight.”

“Your mom’s really pissed, huh?”

“You could say that.” Gina stepped aside so he could enter. He looked around. The house was modest in size but very nice; the wall across from the door was covered with framed copies of Gina’s ads and magazine covers.

“My mother’s wall of glory,” she murmured, following his gaze.

He returned his gaze to her. “Where is she?”

“Out with her boyfriend.” Gina made a face. “The guy’s a sleaze ball.”

Her mother was out? Jack’s pulse began to thud. “She didn’t mind that I was coming over?”

“She didn’t know, and she won’t be home till late. She never is.” Gina grinned and motioned with her head. “Come on.”

She led him to the back of the house, to a large, comfortable room outfitted with leather furniture, light oak paneling and wall-to-wall bookshelves. “This was my dad’s room before he left. I spend a lot of time in here.”

“Your dad left?”

“A couple years ago. He’s living in Laguna now with his girlfriend.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Mom says it’s a case of arrested development. Sharla isn’t much older than I am.” Gina shuddered. “I have friends older than she is.”

“I’m sorry.”

Gina shrugged and plopped down onto a big couch. She patted the seat next to her. “Sit by me.”

He swallowed, his throat dry, and realized he was nervous. He berated himself silently. He would bet Carlo was never nervous. He would bet that by now, Carlo would have already gotten his hand in her pants.

Disgusted with himself, Jack crossed and sat on the couch. He turned to face her, and threaded his fingers through her silky blond hair. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.

She flushed, pleased. Cupping the back of her head, he drew her toward him and kissed her, slowly and deeply. She sighed and wound her fingers in his hair.

He ended the kiss, but didn’t release her or move away. “I’ve been fantasizing about doing that since the last time.”

Her lips curved up. “Then why don’t you do it again?”

Jack didn’t have to be asked twice. He caught her mouth, then her tongue. Gina didn’t waste any time. Their lips pressed together, she unbuttoned his shirt. When she’d pushed it off his shoulders, she started unbuttoning her own.

He pushed her hands away, and with shaking fingers did it for her. Within moments, she was nude from the waist up. Jack gazed at her perfect breasts, at their soft fullness, at her nipples, standing straight out, begging for his mouth, and he struggled to get his breath. He thought he might explode just looking at her.

“You can touch them,” she whispered, straddling his lap.

With a groan, he cupped her breasts, then buried his face in them. She smelled like flowers and felt like heaven. He breathed deeply, his heart thundering in his chest, the pulse in his head.

She rocked against him, her soft pelvis to his hard one, his arousal painfully evident. He sucked in a ragged breath and shifted his hips. “Oh, God, Gina…” He groaned and moved against her again.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and nipped his earlobe. “Did you bring a rubber?”