Marriage On His Mind

“Can you handle a manual transmission?” he asked as she started the engine, then regretted the question when she turned a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding expression on him. “Sorry. Do you know where the hospital is?”

“On Allendale, isn’t it? Across the street from the minimall?”

“Right.” The question in her voice confirmed his assumption—she hadn’t lived in Gold Creek long. He winced as she hit a speed bump.

Mickey glanced at him after she heard his quickly indrawn breath. “Sorry. Does it hurt a lot?”

He clenched the dashboard. “Let’s see. Should I be a real man and say, ‘Aw, it’s nothing’? Or should I tell you the truth?”

“It hurts like hell?” she ventured, risking a quick look his way as she slowed for a red light.

He closed his eyes. “The ice helps. Thanks.”

She negotiated the streets as slowly as traffic would allow, wishing he would talk more. After all, she was a captive audience. He could ask all the questions he’d been dying to ask. He remained quiet. It drove her crazy.

“Are you furious with me?” she asked finally.

Jack didn’t open his eyes. His silence had accomplished what he had intended: the conversational ball was in her court.

“Should I be?” he asked.

She groaned. “I forgot you were a lawyer. Answer a question with a question. What a lovely tactic.”

He kept his voice deliberately calm. “Do I seem furious with you?”

“I don’t know, Jack. What do you look like when you’re furious?”

He laughed softly at her retort. “The ploy usually works, you know.” He opened his eyes to a squint and enjoyed the sight of her, so close he could touch her if he chose.

“Give it your best shot, Ponytail. I grew up with three exceptionally tricky brothers. I’m prepared for anything.”

“Did they teach you to play baseball?”

“Nope.”

“You said you were out of practice. Does that mean you used to play a lot?”

“Yep.”

One corner of his mouth twitched. Oh, yes, she was tough. And smart, and quick. She’d turned the tables on him very nicely.

Mickey grinned his direction, trying not to gloat. She’d managed to outmaneuver him, but he was being a good sport about it. “Jack—”

“Look out!” he yelled.

She hit the brakes, barely avoiding crashing into the car that had come to a quick stop in front of them. “Are you all right?” she asked hurriedly as he moaned and shifted. She knew he’d hit a phantom brake pedal instinctively, ramming his injured foot against the floorboard.

“Yeah.”

No, she decided, hearing the grittiness of the single word. “Real men can say ‘ow,’ you know.”

He rubbed his chest. “I think you inflicted more pain throwing your arm across me than I did myself with my foot. Are you used to a child sitting next to you or something?”

“No,” she said abruptly, not realizing she’d put an arm protectively, automatically, in front of him. Not anymore, she added in silence. “Once again, I apologize for causing you pain.”

“Want to kiss it and make it better?”

She smiled at the windshield, grateful there wasn’t time to relive the past. “You wish,” she said, tossing a grin his way.

The hospital came into view.

“Coach—”

“I’m going to stop at the emergency entrance and find someone with a wheelchair,” she said, swinging into the well-marked driveway.

“Before you go—”

“Don’t.” She shifted into neutral, and pulled up the emergency brake, then turned to look at him. “It can’t go any further than this. I’m sorry. More sorry than you can imagine.”

“Just tell me why.”

“It’s too complicated.”

“Are you married?”

“Of course not.”

“Significant other?”

“None. I meant it when I said I’m in transition. There’s just me. There can only be me. I’ve really enjoyed the time we’ve shared, though. I hope I wasn’t too hard on you.”

“On the contrary, I’m grateful for your prodding.” He touched her shoulder lightly and trailed his fingers down her arm, crossing from fabric to skin on his journey, then locked his fingers over hers as she clenched the gearshift. “A favor?”

Her body reacted to his touch in ways she had thought dead and forgotten. Breath became hard to control; her pulse went from zero to sixty in less than five seconds; even her breasts swelled. She watched him take note of her response, one visible reaction at a time, which served only to make her breathing more shallow, her pulse speed uninhibited down an empty freeway and the tips of her breasts harden painfully.

His voice turned to velvet. “Could we share one kiss in private?”

She didn’t want to give him permission, but to relinquish responsibility to him and not be able to blame herself later. She wanted him just to take. He waited patiently for her to answer.

Jack heard the whisper of a yes only because he was watching her mouth. Not in any hurry, he pushed the bill of her cap around and pulled off her sunglasses. The pupils of her eyes constricted in the sunlight as he watched; her lips parted. Slowing his need, he pressed his mouth to the tender skin below her ear and felt her quivering response. Sliding his mouth along her jaw, he heard her whispered encouragement.

“Yes. Oh, God. Yes,” she breathed, exciting him beyond his dreams with her need.

First came the arousing feel of her lips against his, soft and fiery, then a sudden stillness as she held her breath, then a slow exhale accompanied by the slightest taste of an inquisitive tongue. She glided a shaking hand up his arm to his shoulder; her fingers dug into him. Oh, yes, this was heaven, he thought, curiosity somersaulting into desire as he slanted their mouths differently to deepen the kiss. We fit perfectly. The revelation meandered through his mind as they pulled each other closer across the center console. He slid his palm to her throat, felt the hammering pulse, then glided down—

Someone knocked on the windshield.

“You the one Doc Lansing called about?” a uniformed attendant asked through the glass.