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Page 13
Page 13
“Charlotte, look at me.”
She ignored the request. “I was an only child, too,” she told him, “like Carrie.” She wanted to explain. “There were never outings that included aunts and uncles or cousins. This is a new experience for Carrie and me.”
“Look at me,” he said again, his voice low and commanding.
Slowly her gaze traveled the length of him, up his chest, over the width of his shoulders, to his eyes. She stared into them and felt a sudden sense of connection. It was a powerful sensation, powerful and exciting.
“Where’s Carrie?” Jason asked, glancing over his shoulder.
“She’s on the phone in her room. Why?”
“Because I’m going to kiss you.”
Charlotte’s heart tripped into double time. She was tempted to make some excuse, anything that would put an end to the craziness that overcame her with Jason, but she didn’t trust her voice, let alone her heart.
Whatever she might’ve said was never meant to be. Jason’s kiss saw to that. He gathered her in his arms, and lowered his mouth to hers. His lips were there, warm and moist, reminding her of sunshine. The kiss was chaste, yet curiously sensual.
Of her own accord she deepened their kiss. Jason responded quickly.
He moaned, or perhaps it was her own voice making those soft sounds. She melted into him, her body responding instinctively, naturally, to his.
“Charlotte.” He brought her even closer, and their kiss went on and on. She grew hot, and hotter, then hotter still…until…
“No more…” she cried, breaking away, panting. “Please…no more.”
Jason trembled with restraint, closing his eyes. “You’re right,” he murmured. “Carrie’s in the other room.”
“Carrie,” Charlotte repeated, grateful for the excuse.
Jason drew in several deep breaths, then said, “I should be leaving.”
Charlotte nodded, but she didn’t want him to go. Her body was on fire. She wondered if he was experiencing the same kind of torment himself—and if he was angry with her for sending him away.
“Would you like to come with me again next Saturday?” The question was offhanded, as though he’d just thought of it.
Charlotte’s heart soared at the prospect. “If you’re sure you want me.”
Laughter leapt into his eyes, melding with the fire that was already there. “Trust me, Charlotte, I want you.”
With that, he was out the door.
No sooner had Jason left than Carrie appeared in the kitchen. “Did Jason leave?”
Charlotte nodded, too preoccupied to answer outright. She was trembling, and all because of a few words. He wanted her. He’d been honest and forthright as she’d come to expect.
“Mom, we need to talk.”
“Go ahead,” Charlotte said, as she unloaded the picnic basket. There was surprisingly little food left over. Ryan and Ronnie had discovered her chocolate chip cookies, thanks to Jason, and the three dozen she’d brought had disappeared in no time. She’d set out the fresh fruit-and-cheese platter and that had disappeared, too. There were a couple of sandwiches still wrapped, but they’d keep for her and Carrie to eat the following day.
“It’s about the ninth-grade dance,” Carrie said stiffly from behind her.
Charlotte froze. This wasn’t a subject she wanted to discuss, not again. “I’ve said everything I’m going to say about it, Carrie. The subject is closed.”
“I hope you realize you’re ruining my entire life,” Carrie announced theatrically.
“Dropping you off at the dance and picking you up myself is a reasonable compromise, I think.”
“Then you think wrong. I’d…rather walk to school naked than have you drive me to the dance as if…as if there wasn’t a single boy in the entire class who wanted to be seen with me.”
She sighed. “I’ll be happy to pick up Brad, too, if that’ll help.” That was more than she was really in favor of, but she supposed she could live with it.
“Then everyone will think I asked Brad to the dance. I mean, I know girls do that, but it’s important to me that a certain girl find out that Brad asked me. How can you do this, Mom? Can’t you see how important this is?” Her eyes were imploring, a look designed to melt any mother’s heart.
Charlotte steeled herself. “You’re too young, Carrie, and that’s the end of it.”
“You don’t understand what you’re doing to me!” Carried wailed.
“The subject is closed.”
“Fine, ruin my life. See if I care.” She stalked out of the kitchen, arms swinging.
With a heavy sigh, Charlotte watched her go. This argument was getting old. She’d been under the impression that her daughter had accepted her decision. But now it was apparent Carrie had only been regrouping, altering her tactics. Cool reason had evolved into implied guilt. Her fifteen-year-old made it sound as though Charlotte had done untold psychological damage by not letting her go on an actual date. Well, so be it, Charlotte decided. This issue was one she didn’t intend to back down on any more than she already had.
Pulling out a kitchen chair, Charlotte sank tiredly into it, resting her face in her hands. She sighed again. She had trouble enough raising one child; she was insane to even contemplate having another.
A baby.
But she did want another child, so badly she ached with it. Holding Jeremy, Jamie and Rich’s little boy, had stirred to life a craving buried deep within her heart. She attempted to push the desire away, rebury it, anything but acknowledge it. She’d had to repress this desire several times over the years.
A baby now was out of the question, she stubbornly reminded herself. She was too old; there were dangers for a woman on the other side of thirty-five. But age was the least of her concerns.
Getting pregnant required a man. Even more problematic, it required making love.
The sadness that weighed down Charlotte’s heart felt impossible to carry alone. Tears blurred her eyes. If ever there was a man she could love, it was Jason Manning. But the thought of falling in love again terrified her. Charlotte was afraid of love. Afraid of all the feelings and desires Jason had stirred to life. He was wonderful. His family was wonderful. But it was a painful kind of wonderful, taunting her with all that was never meant to be in her life.
Charlotte had dealt with her share of problems. Finances. Isolation. Low self-esteem. Everything had been a struggle for her. She didn’t know how to react to wonderful.
For the first time since her divorce, Charlotte felt the protective walls she’d erected around her heart being threatened. Those barriers were fortified by years of disappointment, years of resentment and pain. Now they seemed to be crumbling and all because of a man she’d never even seen without a baseball cap.
For now, Jason was attracted to her, but in her heart she believed his interest in her wouldn’t last. It couldn’t. The time was fast approaching when she wouldn’t be able to put him off, and he’d know. That very afternoon, she’d seen the way he’d trembled in an effort to restrain himself. She’d watched as he’d closed his eyes and drawn in several deep breaths.
Soon kissing wouldn’t be enough for him. Soon he’d discover how inadequate she was when it came to making love. She had never satisfied Tom, no matter how hard she’d tried. In the end he’d taunted her, claiming the day would come when she’d realize all the ugly things he’d said about her were true. She didn’t have what it took to satisfy a man.
When Jason learned that, he’d start to make excuses not to see her again. He’d regret ever having met her, and worse, he’d regret having introduced her to his family.
She never should’ve accepted his invitation. It would make everything so much more awkward later….
The tears slipped from her eyes before she was aware she was crying. The soul-deep insecurity, awakened by the memories of her marriage, returned to haunt her. The doubts, the fear and dread, were back, taking up residence in her mind.
Covering her face with her hands, Charlotte swallowed the sobs beginning to spill out in huge swells of emotion. In an effort to gain control, she held her breath so long her lungs ached.
She heard her ex-husband’s words—you aren’t woman enough—inflicting injury all over again until she covered her ears and closed her eyes, wanting to blot them out forever.
Why should Jason fall in love with her when the world was full of whole, sexual women who’d gladly satisfy his needs? Passionate women who’d blossom in his arms and sigh with pleasure and fulfillment. She was incapable of giving a man what he needed. Tom had repeatedly told her so. She was inept as a woman, inept at lovemaking.
“Mom,” Carrie said coolly from behind her. “I’m going to Amanda’s house.” She waited as though she expected Charlotte to object.
Charlotte nodded, then stood and resumed unpacking the picnic basket, not wanting Carrie to see her tears. “Okay, honey. Just don’t be late.”
“I may never come home again,” Carrie said dramatically.
“Dinner’s at six.”
“All right,” Carrie muttered and walked out the door.
It wasn’t until later, much later, while she was in bed finding it impossible to sleep, that Charlotte’s thoughts returned to Jason. She’d allowed things to go further than she should have. It was a mistake. One she had to correct at the earliest possible moment. She must’ve been crazy to let their relationship reach this point.
Crazy or desperate? Charlotte didn’t know which. It had all started weeks earlier when she’d held a friend’s baby. Funny how she could remember the precise moment with such accuracy. The longing for a child had escalated within her, gaining momentum, refusing to be ignored. She’d gone home and wept and although the tears had finally dried, inside she hadn’t stopped weeping.
Shortly after the incident with Kathy Crenshaw and her baby, Charlotte had met Jason. He’d kissed her that first night and it had been…She hadn’t tensed or frozen up and that had given her hope. Her confidence continued to grow when he kissed her again and again; he’d always been gentle and undemanding. He was special that way, and she’d be forever grateful for the uncanny gift he had of understanding her needs.
But Jason was a man of raw sensuality. He wouldn’t be satisfied with a few chaste kisses for much longer. He had no idea how terrified she was of him, of any man.
No, it was only a matter of time before the best thing that had happened to her in years came abruptly to an end.
On Sunday, Jason wasn’t in the mood to cook. Microwave popcorn for dinner suited him better than a frozen entrée. He popped a batch and sat down in front of the television to watch a bowling tournament. Not his favorite sport, but there wasn’t much to choose from.
When his phone rang, he stood on the sofa and reached across to grab it from the kitchen counter. He was half hoping it was Charlotte.
It wasn’t.
“Jase, I don’t suppose you’ve got Charlotte’s phone number, do you?” Paul asked cordially enough, only Jason wasn’t fooled. As the oldest, his brother sometimes got the notion that he needed to oversee family matters. That didn’t include Charlotte, and Jason intended to make sure Paul understood that.