Unwrapping Chris Page 2

  “Are you hurt?”

  “Jesus, Jayne. What do you think?” he barked.

  Several of his men laughed.

  “Okay. Back in formation. And, get out of the road,” his sergeant yelled.

  His fellow non-coms had the situation under control, so he closed his eyes and concentrated on an internal check of all his systems. Everything moved while his chest rose with each breath. Something else rose as well.

  He tossed his hat onto his groin, then turned his head to look into the blue eyes he’d dreamt of for eight long, lonely years.

  “Jayne,” he whispered. A statement, not a curse, but her wide eyes and reflexive jerk away from him said she thought otherwise.

  Sirens poured through the gathering clouds.

  “We’re gonna get wet,” a private moaned. His buddy muttered something coarse and low. Even from this angle—flat on his back—Chris saw the boy suddenly drop to the ground, his arms pumping with each push-up.

  A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth until her fragrance intensified. Jayne had bent lower. Did she plan to kiss him? In front of his men?

  Her fingers brushed along his ugly, orange safety vest, then traveled down his chest, unbuttoning him as they scurried along, light as a feather. Her breath reminded him of ginger and spice and something sweet, as she hovered close. She leaned over him.

  So close. Too close. If she tries to unbutton my pants, I’m outta here.

  He struggled to a sitting position. She moved away, and stared. Fate had struck him smack in the face, and heart. What was he to do? How would he handle her if she thought to continue their relationship?

  Relationship? What relationship? I screwed her in my dad’s truck.

  Then she frowned as if she’d read his mind and didn’t like what she had seen.

  Chapter 3

  Jayne felt the frown take over when all she really wanted was to smile. Christopher Hawkins. Here. How had fortune shined on her the same day she thought of him?

  Holy cow. I hit him with my car.

  This wasn’t the cheerful reunion she’d dreamed about since her sixteenth year. This wasn’t her dream where he would fall to his knees and tell her he realized he should never have disappeared. After he’d taken her virginity and opened her eyes to the pleasures of love, she’d heard he’d left the state, joined the army, and fled.

  I wished for a letter, a phone call, an apology.

  Her sacrifice had been for nothing. Well, not nothing. He’d wrapped her in his warmth and had used his mouth, tongue, and fingers. He’d prepared her for the sudden pain, then drove her up to the heavens with exquisite joy while whispering words of love. And promises.

  “Promises you didn’t keep.”

  “What? I never promised you a damn thing.”

  Holy Highland Cow! I said that out loud.

  She really put her foot in it this time, and repeating her Scottish grandmother’s favorite saying wouldn’t help. Here she was, hoping he had finally come to his senses, and he probably thought she had languished about, waiting for him, ever since that night.

  “Forget it. Let’s take a look at your head. Don’t move your neck.”

  “My neck’s fine. It didn’t get kissed by your bumper.”

  Chris said the word as if wanting her to remember. His kisses were the best she’d ever tasted. At the time, they’d been the only kisses. She went on to kiss a few more boys until Johnny appeared in her young life.

  Johnny was an expert kisser. She shivered when she recalled how he’d swept her off her feet three years after she’d seen the last of Christopher Hawkins.

  I have two lovely little girls to show for it.

  As she brushed dirt off his right cheek with her left hand, Chris’s gaze locked on her ring. Her wedding ring. Why hadn’t she thought to take it off?

  Because, I wanted the added hindrance.

  It was an easy way to keep men at arm’s length. Only now, her scheme had backfired.

  ***

  She’s married? Damn. No, this is good news. Right?

  He had to keep her at a distance. Couldn’t let his guilt force him into a relationship. He did not have to start up with her simply because he’d taken everything she offered, then ran.

  “I’m fine. Help me up, guys.”

  Jayne jumped to her feet and brushed dirt from the knees of her tight jeans. When had she unzipped her coat? The pale, freckled skin just above her breasts winked at him.

  I must be more out of it than I thought.

  He shook his head as he let two men from his platoon lift him to his feet. He winced then rubbed his hip.

  “Damn!” Chris said when he fingered the tear in his camouflaged ACU trousers.

  “That’ll have to come out of your pay, Sarge.”

  Chris threw a dark glare toward one of his sergeants, and it was enough to keep the rest of the group from laughing. This was not funny.

  “I’m fine, so give me a break, guys.” He motioned to the man with the mouth. “Take them back to the barracks. I’ll…deal with this.”

  He lifted his chin toward the flickering lights in the distance. The other non-com ordered two soldiers to guard the road until the MPs arrived.

  Having retreated to her car, Jayne, the woman of his dreams, stood silent. She bent and slipped inside, then stood holding some papers and what looked to be a woman’s clutch wallet.

  Probably looking for her cell phone. Has to call that husband of hers.

  As she pulled a phone from the small purse and dialed, he snapped his teeth together. What did he expect? She’d gone on with her life. Whereas he’d tried very, very hard to end his.

  ***

  The ambulance’s sirens whined down as they pulled to a stop. A Jeep carrying two MPs halted near the small group. Jayne stood silently beside her car, her cell phone gripped in one trembling hand and the car registration in the other.

  “Hello?”

  “Marti? It’s Jayne.”

  “Your job interview over already?”

  “Not quite. I…I had an accident.”

  “You okay? Do you need us to come get you?”

  “And have you try to squeeze three kids into your car? Besides, my girls’ car seats are currently still strapped inside this car. No, I’ll get a ride back after the ambulance leaves.”

  “You are hurt.”

  “I am not. I…damn.”

  Silence. Marti probably never heard a curse from Jayne’s lips in all their lives. Too bad this day broke her resolve, and her heart, all over again.

  I saw the hate in his eyes.

  She sighed, said good-bye to her sister after promising to call back, and leaned back against her small car. Weariness sucked all her strength, similar to the depression she harbored during the days following the news of Johnny’s death. Only this felt worse.

  She’d had one tiny pinprick of hope. That miniscule chance she might again succumb to the erotic pleasure of melting beneath the rock-hard shape of Christopher Hawkins. Until she ran him over with her car.

  “Double damn,” she muttered.

  “Miss?”

  She glanced from her dirty boots up, then up, brushing dirt from her clothing, until she saw her reflection in the sunglasses of a large, uniformed, gun-toting member of the base’s military police.

  “What!” Why did she snap at the man? No need ending up in the brig, or whatever. She’d miss her kids. Her sister. And the wedding.

  “Are you injured?”

  “Who, me? No. Shaken up. I never saw him. The sun…” She was rambling. Not the thing to do when questioned by the police.

  “Let’s talk over there.”

  Several men were ringing her car. One pulled open the hood latch and two bent over her engine.

  “They’re checking to see if it’s in running order before we call for a tow.”

  “Oh, thanks.” Her answer was automatic since she had trained her attention on Chris. He sat on the bumper of the ambulance, whose back doors were wide
open. Two medics checked him out. He’d waved them over the moment they pulled to a stop. She watched as he pointed to his hip, then to her car. The medics nodded and both men gave her a quick glance.

  All three laughed.

  Great, now I am a subject of ridicule.

  She felt like she had the day she realized he was really, truly gone. The day her world crumbled in on itself.

  Chapter 4

  “You should have something to eat. This appetizer assortment looks fabulous. Much better than the mess hall.”

  “I’m not hungry.” She surprised even herself at how raw her words sounded. A week of sleepless nights and little food hadn’t helped.

  “How about a drink?” Marti asked.

  Jayne’s sister twirled a lock of her hair while looking around the hotel bar. Marti was more open-minded when it came to men and looked fabulous in her red cocktail dress, heels, and expertly applied make-up.

  “You look great,” Jayne said, and forced a smile.

  “I know. Now let’s hope someone besides my baby sister notices.”

  “We should head for the church.”

  “The wedding will wait. I’m hungry.”

  “Won’t there be food?”

  “Not until after the service. If I’m gonna live on MREs for a year, I am gonna fatten up now.”

  Marti looked serious, but if she added even one ounce to her frame, her slinky dress would split at the seams. While Marti filled a plate, Jayne walked outside. They’d parked between the church and this hotel, where the wedding reception would be held. A stiff breeze swirled around her nylon-clad legs and lifted her skirt. She smelled something in the air.

  Snow?

  It was cold enough, but unfamiliarity with the cold white flakes didn’t help now. Lights twinkled in the trees lining the park across the street.

  It’s Christmas Eve, she thought with hope. She’d taken her girls and her nephew to see Santa at the PX and couldn’t help but make a silent wish for herself.

  God, please bring me whatever it is I need.

  ***

  Chris saw Jayne first. She sat in a pew near the front of the church, her eyes trained on the tall stained glass windows to the right of the altar. From the vestibule, where the groomsmen were lining up, he had a perfect view of her profile. Gathered in a soft bun and pinned to the top of her head, her gold hair gave her an angelic countenance.

  She’d pinned a pretty gold wreath to the bodice of her green velvet dress. Her straight nose and porcelain skin—peppered with the freckles he liked to count in his dreams before trying to will away his erections—radiated with innocent beauty.

  And desire.

  Did her husband satisfy her like the night he’d filled her damp heat with his pulsing, hungry cock until she shattered? Even now, he had to smooth the front of his kilt as he attempted to control the rampant erection that planned to ruin his entrance.

  “All set?” the groom asked. The men mumbled their affirmation. A smattering of late-arriving guests were quickly shown to their seats, and then the men walked single file down the far left side of the church while the minister gathered the attention of the crowd.

  “Showtime!” The best man shoved an elbow in Chris’s side. He grunted, then forced a smile. Chris followed the groom, best man, and two others by escorting the bridesmaids to the altar. His task complete, and his body relaxed, he sucked in a breath, and turned to face the crowd.

  A sunbeam, shining down on her beautiful face, grabbed his attention.

  Their gazes locked.

  The organist’s stubby fingers twittered across the keys. His heart lurched when the strains of the familiar wedding march filled the chapel. His pulse ratcheted higher, and his palms grew damp when he recognized the want in her eyes. Until he remembered her ring.

  It should have been me.

  ***

  Oh my, she thought. She couldn’t speak, not when the young man of her dreams stood before her as a mature adult in full Highland dress. From his kilt to his sporran, his shiny black ghillie brogues to the sgian dubh in his sock. She never realized how handsome a man could look.

  I wonder if he’s Scottish?

  Hawkins sounded…American. While Marti sat bolt upright and followed the ceremony, Jayne lost all sense of time. In a swirling mist, on a cliff above the roiling Scottish sea, her true love fought the demons of Hell and…

  “Jayne! Stand up. They’re leaving.”

  She stood just in time to watch the teary bride march up the aisle by the side of her new husband. The entire wedding party wore plaid. Even the bride sported a colorful length of matching wool wrapped over one shoulder then across her chest and pinned at her waist.

  Jayne’s throat choked closed at the beauty and splendor. Her breath hitched when Chris strutted by. When his gaze flickered over her for a fraction of a second, damp heat smoldered between her legs. She rubbed her sweaty palms down the front of her dress and tried to suck in enough air to live.

  ***

  The catered buffet proved exceptional, and she and Marti giggled at the labels. Bangers and mash? Flavored sausages and mashed potatoes were a bit heavy. Her stomach had flip-flopped since watching Chris walk up the aisle.

  Meat pies she understood, and she thought the flaky crust would soothe her jittery nerves. Picking up a small plate, she veered toward the deserts. A few shortbread cookies would comfort her.

  She veered away from the bloody sausage consisting of lungs, and other organ meats called haggis. A parched throat was easily soothed by a glass of champagne, but her hands shook. She set her empty plate and half-full glass on the corner of an empty table, then headed for the coatroom. She couldn’t stay. Not when dancing had started, and the room closed in on her.

  “You ought to try it,” a deep voice said, from behind her left shoulder.

  She froze.

  “Chris?” She spun and faced him.

  He looked around at the nearly empty corridor. When he turned his heated gaze her way, she tried to speak, but failed.

  Miserably.

  “Expecting someone else? Looks like you came with Marti.”

  “You remember my sister?”

  “Sure. She was a fireball in high school. Too wild for me.”

  “She joined the army right after you…disappeared.”

  He had the decency to look chagrined. She hadn’t noticed that he’d cupped her elbow until she heard the whispered opening of a door. She looked around, but darkness filled nearly every corner.

  “And, we are in this room, why?”

  “Where is he?”

  “Who?” Now he was scaring her. The timbre of his voice hardened, and his fingers gripped her upper arms. His vise-like grip would leave marks.

  “Chris, you’re hurting me.”

  As fast as he had grabbed her, his hands lifted away.

  “I want to know why he’s not here. With you.”

  “Sorry. I…”

  She heard the hesitation in his voice, and the apology. His aggression forgotten, she was left to wonder why he spoke in riddles. “Who are you talking about, Chris?”

  A slight shadow and a small breeze indicated he shook his head. A low snort filled the darkened room.

  “Your husband. How could he allow a woman—”

  “Wait one damn minute! No one gets to allow me to do anything.” She’d raised her voice, something she had promised never to do if they ever crossed paths.

  “How can he allow a woman as beautiful as you out of his sight?”

  “Oh.” She should have let him finish his sentence. What should she do? An impulse so raw and shocking flamed inside her, down to her womb. This man, tonight, was fair game.

  She’d taste him, use him, and spit him out. Then she’d get that nursing position, move on base, and forever have her dreams to keep her warm at night.

  I the darkness of the quiet room, Jayne’s hands leaped forward. She smoothed her eager fingers up along his wool jacket until she found his lapels. In quick su
ccession, she grabbed hold, pulled, and pressed her mouth against his. When he gasped in surprise, she forced her tongue inside. Swirling, sizzling, tasting.

  This is heaven. This is what I’ve missed.

  He tasted of rich Scottish single malt whisky, reminiscent of smoky peat and aged oak. The flavor was mellow and mature, like the man.

  His hands finally moved, and he found her with a frenzy of touches, caresses, and heat. He backed her against the wall and something hard…and furry…pressed into her.

  “What the…” Her fingers dove south and found rabbit’s fur.

  “My sporran.”

  “Hmm. It’s trimmed in cold metal and soft leather. Nice.” Delving further south, she felt the evidence of his semi-rigid desire.

  He captured her, and moaned into her mouth.

  “I want you.” They’d spoken their desire at the same time.

  “I can’t. I mustn’t,” Jayne said. Circumstances dictated her life, ever since Chris had disappeared. She was a widow without a job. Two small children depended on her. She couldn’t chance an unwanted pregnancy. That outcome ranked right up there with a troubled marriage.

  “You love him?”

  Chris had backed away just enough that his breath danced across her shuttered eyelashes. It took Jayne a few moments to understand he’d asked a question.

  “Love who?” she asked. With her dress feeling too tight against her swollen breasts and her thighs dampened by want, she had trouble zeroing in on the subject.

  “Your husband.”

  “Johnny? What about him?”

  He froze.

  Chapter 5

  Chris squinted, and could almost see her eyes sparkle in the dim light. Her golden hair had come undone, and he sensed it floating around her silken shoulders. He smoothed his fingers along the ridge of her collarbones and down her forearms as he stepped back.

  He’d asked an important question, yet she’d sounded so glib. As if being married to a guy while kissing another was nothing.