Forbidden

“Is it Dan?”

Leah wished she were anywhere but there in that one moment.

No, scratch that. Despite everything, she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. If she were back at the house, she’d be climbing the walls until Sami came home from her volleyball game after school. If she had gone to the counseling session, she’d be sitting next to Dan trying to work out a situation her mind wasn’t completely on right now. And if she was with J.T….

Well, he wasn’t much of an option, was he? Even though his gift of a coffee, a roll and a rose that morning and his note this afternoon told her he was nearby, she didn’t know how to get in touch with him. Not that she would. It was just that knowing being with him wasn’t an option helped.

Marginally.

She shifted in her seat. “I really don’t want to talk about it right now.”

Rachel was silent for a few moments as she studied her, then her gaze cut to the approaching waitress.

“Saved by the food,” her sister said, offering up a smile.

Leah smiled back at her and moved her glass so her salad could be put down in front of her.

Within moments they were alone again. Leah speared the crisp lettuce with forced enthusiasm while Rachel did the same across from her.

“I know I can be a little pushy sometimes,” Rachel said quietly.

Leah raised her brows in feigned shock.

“Cut it out.” Rachel chewed a bite then swallowed. “I suppose what I’m trying to say is that, well, you know I’m here whenever you’re ready to talk, don’t you?” she said quietly, her hazel eyes steady.

Yes, she did know that. And that simple knowledge calmed the edginess in her, however slightly. But how could she talk about what she had yet to understand?

Leah nodded, feeling ridiculously close to tears. “I know. Thanks.”

IT WAS NEARLY TEN-THIRTY and there was no sign of Leah.

J.T. sat at the end of the long bar, his fingers wrapped around a still-full beer bottle that was growing warmer by the minute. In the corner the jukebox played an old Johnny Cash song while at the two pool tables four men traded shots, the winners destined to play the owners of the next quarters on the nicked lips of the tables. J.T. had seen his share of drinking holes and this one was better than most, but not as good as some he’d been in.

He’d long ago discovered that a different set of rules existed in bars. No matter who you were, where you came from or whom you were there to meet, it was your business, as long as you didn’t start any problems for others and paid your tab. And if you said just enough to make you friendly, but not too much to make others curious, your face was forgotten as soon as the other men turned their backs, making you just another guy looking to knock back a few brews after work.

J.T.’s gaze slid back toward the door as another just such guy walked in.

He stared down at his beer.

He’d been aware of the odds of Leah’s not showing. But he had still hoped she would come. He needed to talk to her. And the only way to do that was in public. Because when they were in private…well, suffice it to say he had a hard time keeping his hands to himself and they didn’t get much talking done. As for this particular bar as his choice of public places, well, he’d wanted to make anonymity attractive to her. If he’d chosen a restaurant or someplace closer to her home then the risk of her running into someone she knew would have been high.

But he admitted that perhaps he had jumped the gun a bit when it came to timing. He should have waited a little longer before suggesting they meet.

The only problem was he couldn’t wait. The more time that passed, the more he wanted to have Leah. In his bed. Writhing under his body. Her thighs spread wide for him as her back arched up to meet him. Every second that he wasn’t able to do that ticked by like an eternity until the next second and the next eternity. He felt like he could have died and been reborn at least ten times since he’d rolled back into town. He threw himself into his work refurbishing the old Victorian farmhouse a few miles from the bar, but had to pace himself lest he work himself right out of a reason to stay in the house.

The door opened.

Another faceless man entered.

J.T. picked up the beer bottle and swallowed deeply from it, barely registering that it was warm and tasted like deer piss. He put it back down, fished a couple of bills from his pocket then stepped toward the jukebox. It looked like his only options were to go back to the empty farmhouse or stick around here and get stinking drunk.

LEAH WRAPPED TREMBLING fingers around the doorknob to the Lantern’s Light Tavern and slowly pulled, entering the bar before she could change her mind again. She’d approached the bar no fewer than five times only to head back to her car parked around back. At one point she’d even driven halfway home before hanging a U-turn and coming back to the bar….

Coming back to J.T.

She’d spotted his bike right out front so she knew he was still there. Although she couldn’t really figure out why. Dan would never have waited more than fifteen minutes for her before leaving. She shivered at the change in temperature and temperament, wondering how long J.T. would have waited. Another fifteen minutes? A half hour? An hour?

All night?

She still had on her slacks and blouse that she’d worn that morning. She hadn’t wanted to make a fuss for fear that Sami would pick up on what was going on. As it turned out her daughter had been too wrapped up in her own drama, something to do with her best friend siding with another girl during the volleyball game. Much telephoning between the three girls ensued. When she’d left, Sami seemed to have patched everything up with her best friend, Courtney, and she’d been sprawled across her bed talking about a new boy at school. She’d barely given her mother a halfhearted wave when Leah had told her she was going to Aunt Rachel’s to help her sort through some stuff for the wedding.

And now here she stood, in the middle of a dimly lit bar, her ears filled with the sound of glass clinking, beer being poured and pool sticks hitting cue balls, looking for a man who compelled her to do things she knew she shouldn’t. Looking for J.T.

The sound of a few guitar strums floated on the alcohol-infused air. She looked in the direction of the jukebox and found J.T. bending over it, his back to her.

Her heart lodged tightly in her throat.

J. T. West filled out a pair of jeans like no man she had ever known could. The worn, faded denim was slightly loose around his slender waist and fit him snuggly around his hindquarters, making her fingers itch with the desire to run them down the soft cotton, probing the steel-hard flesh beneath.

He slowly turned, as if sensing her presence, her stare. Leah felt frozen to the spot as her gaze flicked up the denim of his shirt, catching sight of the tanned, hard chest at the neck before staring directly into his simmering golden brown eyes.

In that one moment everything but this moment ceased to exist for her. The bar. The worries of her class. The complaints of her sister. The concerns of her daughter. All she could hear was the thump of the bass in the song and her own heartbeat. Her palms and other, more intimate, parts of her body grew wet, her breasts tightened and her lips longed for the feel of J.T.’s mouth on hers.

Neither of them moved for long, long moments. Then, finally, J.T. pushed from the old-fashioned, upright jukebox and crossed to hold his hand out to her.

Leah gazed at his large, callused fingers and the dark hair kissing his forearms, then blinked back into his eyes.

“Dance with me?”

Leah’s hand shook so violently she was sure J.T. could see it as she slowly placed it in his. A hot, hot shiver rode through her body as she wondered why she felt that accepting his invitation meant so much more than just a dance….

5

LEAH SMELLED OF THE SUBTLE SCENT of gardenias and one-hundred-percent sweet, hot female.

J.T. slowly tugged her until she stood mere millimeters away. The very tips of her breasts brushed against his chest. The insistent throbbing of his manhood pulsed almost painfully, full with desire for this woman who’d haunted him throughout so much of his life. He rested his right hand on her hip, fighting the urge to press her to him until nothing separated them but their clothing.

It had been so long. Too long. But to give in to his craving to claim her now would only take them where they had already gone. And he wanted more, so much more.

“You waited,” she said quietly next to his ear.

He tightened his grip on her hand and led her in the slow dance, using every ounce of self-restraint he had to keep from rushing things. “I waited.”

He caught the scent of something evocatively familiar. The smell of lemons. And immediately he was transported to the first time they’d ever danced, fourteen years ago on one steamy summer’s eve. The entire campsite had gathered for dinner at the pavilion and the park owners had brought in a country band to entertain those who wanted to make a night of it. By midnight most of the campers had gone back to their trailers or tents, leaving just a few behind.

He and Leah had been two of them.

And she’d asked him to dance.

J.T. closed his eyes now, breathing in the lemony scent of her hair. He found it incredible that she still used the same shampoo that she had way back then. Found it incredible that the mouthy, straightforward, gutsy teenager she had been had turned into the hesitant, self-doubting, fearful woman he now held.

She took her hand briefly from his and wiped her palm on her slacks then returned it to his grip, her smile wavering before she turned her head in the other direction.

What had happened during their years apart to make her change? Or had she changed at all? Was his memory painting a picture of her that he wanted to see but that had no basis in reality? Was this Leah the real one?

No. He had only to think of their brief, unexpected, white-hot affair a year and a half ago to know that the Leah he danced with now was not the woman he’d once known. He knew that because for a brief, exciting time she had turned back into that young woman who had the world and everything in it at her beautiful feet. The judge’s daughter whose only care in the world was how to satisfy her own curious appetites. And J.T. had been the first man she’d welcomed between her toned thighs.

“Josh, I…”

Every muscle in J.T.’s body tightened.

It seemed forever since anyone had used his given name. And since warning Leah against it the last time they’d met, she hadn’t used it, either. No, he hadn’t told her the reason he went by his initials now instead of the name he’d been called his entire life. She’d merely accepted that it was something he couldn’t share.

That she was using the name now told him he wasn’t going to like what he was going to hear.

“Shhh,” he said, drawing her closer.

He heard her breath catch and felt her breasts heave slightly against his chest. He suppressed a groan. Did the woman have even the slightest idea how she affected him? Did she know that right now he wanted her so badly he was nearly bursting with his need for her? Did she know that not a day went by that he didn’t think about her, remember how it had been between them and hunger after her with an intensity that left him powerless to concentrate on anything but the memory of her?

He put his boot between her shoes and nudged her legs apart, naturally filling the gap with his thigh. She gave a small gasp as his taut muscles rested against her swollen womanhood. Oh, yeah, he knew she wanted him. She always had. It was the one weakness he could use against her.

The problem lay in that he didn’t want to use anything against her. Especially not her own betraying emotions.

“I was just remembering the first time we ever danced,” he whispered in her ear, teasing the delicate shell with his breath and watching a shiver wash down the delicate cord of her neck, coaxing tiny bumps over her arms. Her neatly trimmed blonde hair seemed to tremble with the reaction he was inciting in her. “Do you remember, Leah?”

She didn’t indicate one way or another if she’d heard.

J.T. stared at a spot beyond her, allowing the pImages** of that long ago summer to take over. “I remember the heaviness of the air right before it rained later that night. I remember the sounds of the singer’s voice and the chirp of the crickets. The smell of straw and your hair.” He pressed his chin against the side of her head. “The way you looked up at me, so hungry, so confident.”

Leah went briefly still in his arms.

J.T. tightened his grip on her. “And I thought to myself, ‘This is a woman who knows what she wants. And I’m going to give it to her.”’

“I wasn’t a woman, I was a girl.”

J.T. pulled back slightly. “No, Leah. You were a woman.” He grinned. “I’m convinced that you’ve been one since the day you were born.”

The song drew to an end and Leah attempted to pull away. J.T. didn’t allow her the escape. The advantage of his having fed so much money into the jukebox was that he knew which songs would play next.

He brushed his cheek against her hair. “Then you kissed me,” he said quietly.

She dropped her gaze to stare at the front of his shirt, then seemed unsatisfied with that and looked restlessly around the bar. “You kissed me, if I remember correctly,” she said so quietly he nearly didn’t hear her.

He shook his head as the next song finally clicked on. “No, Leah. You kissed me.” He pressed his lips against her temple, resisting the urge to re-create the moment. But in order to re-create it, she would have to make the first move. Just like she had back then. “You kissed me as if you couldn’t help yourself.”

“That…that was a long time ago.”

J.T. pulled back enough to stare down into her eyes. “Was it? Because right now I’m feeling like it was five minutes ago.”

He watched as her pupils dilated in her dark eyes. Oh, yes, he could tell she was feeling the same way. Yearning for that carefree moment when they’d first explored their burning attraction for each other. But his telling and her admitting were two completely different things. And he knew she wasn’t anywhere near confessing how she felt. And he also suspected he knew the reason why. Hell, he spent half his time asking himself what it was that he felt for her. And the other half wanting her so badly he throbbed with the power of the need.

She licked her lips. J.T. visually inhaled the movement, knowing it was the prelude to a kiss.

But rather than leaning toward him, she pulled away. “I…I shouldn’t be here. I’ve really got to go.”

J.T. resisted the urge to hold her still, to prevent her from leaving. Instead he released his hold on her and watched as she clutched her purse closer to her side and moved toward the door.

He was losing her and he didn’t know how to stop it.

LEAH KNEW A DESPERATION to escape so intense her knees shook. It wasn’t fair that J.T. had come back. It wasn’t fair that he was reminding her of times better off forgotten. It wasn’t fair that he made her want him so fully that she felt she’d die if she didn’t kiss him, feel him, make love to him…now.

She moved toward the door to the bar as quickly as she could, short of running. She shouldn’t have come here. It had been foolish to think she could tell J.T. that she couldn’t see him again. Look into his eyes and utter the words, “It’s over. I’ve moved on with my life and it’s time for you to do the same.”

Instead she hadn’t hesitated to step into his arms for a dance, her hand in his, their bodies slowly swaying seeming the most natural thing in the world.

“We fit.”

She remembered J.T. whispering words to that effect on the very night he’d reminded her of. He hadn’t been saying the words to her. Rather it had seemed he’d been talking to himself, his voice so full of wonder and conviction that they’d reverberated through her, changing her life forever.

She pushed the door open and took deep gulps of the chilly spring night air as if she’d just run a marathon. Changing her life forever. What a childish, stupid thing to think. Fine for a sixteen-year-old experiencing her first real brush with puppy love. Ridiculous for a woman of thirty with an eleven-year-old daughter.

She wondered what Dr. McKenna would say if she told him. Would he tell her that her reactions to J.T. were some sort of pre-middle-aged grab at what used to be? A return to the past, to less troubled times? A time when she didn’t have adult responsibilities and all that went along with them?

“Leah.”

Her step faltered at the sound of her name on J.T.’s lips. He’d followed her. Somewhere deep inside she’d known he would. And somewhere near that knowledge was also the relief, and the grief, that he had.

She swiveled toward him, the air and distance between them allowing her a measure of sanity. “I can’t see you again, J.T.”

He squinted at her in the near darkness, his face stern as if carved from granite. “You’re not seeing me now.”

Leah’s throat felt so tight she was surprised her breathing didn’t sound like panting. “I’ve seen you twice in the past three days.”

“I need to talk to you.”

She shook her head adamantly. “That’s what I told myself. That’s the reason why I came here. To talk. But we don’t talk, J.T. We never talk. Whenever we’re within touching distance both of us seem to lose the ability to speak.”

“We’re talking now.”

She laughed humorlessly and backed a short ways away, feeling an almost magnetic pull toward him and fighting it for all she was worth. “It doesn’t count. We’re just talking about talking.” She shook her head and clutched her purse to her stomach as if the action could keep her from moving toward him.

“I’ve moved on with my life, J.T.,” she said, somehow finding the words she’d rehearsed all afternoon, then during the drive out. “I’m back in school. I’m going to counseling with my ex-husband in the hopes of reconciling. And my daughter…well, my daughter needs me to be there for her.”

He was silent for a long moment, making her wonder if she’d said the words at all. And if she had, if he could understand what they meant.

“And you?” he asked quietly. “What do you need, Leah?”

No fair. It wasn’t fair for him to ask her that question.

He slowly held up his hand up. “What do you want?”

She turned toward her car parked around the back of the lot, out of view of passing traffic. She hadn’t done it on purpose, but it seemed that everything connected to J.T. was done in secret. Was bad. Forbidden.

“I want you to leave me alone,” she whispered.

But she hadn’t said it loud enough for him to hear. Rather the words had been for her ears only, as if some frightened part of her believed that by saying them she could make them so.

She rounded the building, nearly ran into a Dumpster, then rounded it, getting her keys from her purse.

“I didn’t quite make out your last words.”

Leah didn’t realize that J.T. had grasped her arm and turned her to face him until she was staring up into his too handsome, too rugged face.

“I said that I want you to leave me alone.”

Her heart crashed against her rib cage, the sound of her own words like a knife to her chest.

“Do you?” he asked. “Because if you do, I’ll leave town right now. Tonight.”

Leah felt like she’d never take an unlabored breath again. Standing there looking into a face made familiar by all the times she’d seen it in her dreams, nurtured it in her mind, she wanted the exact opposite of what she was saying.

She licked her lips several times. “Yes. That’s what I want.” The words grew quieter with each she said until the last one was nearly silent.

They stood like that for long moments, neither of them saying anything, both of them staring at each other, only the sound of passing cars on the other side of the building and the exhaust fan from the back kitchen breaking the utter silence of the night.

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