And despite reminding himself that this lapse with his sexy-as-hell sister-in-law was going to have to come to an end in the very near future, over and over, his brain replayed what she'd said.
I love you because you're good.
I love you because you're honest.
I love you, Luke, because of everything you do and everything you are.
The most amazing thing of all was that she could say those things to him when he wasn't being fair to her. When he wasn't being good. Or honest.
All his life, he'd had a role to play. His brother, Travis, had been the dog. The player. So Luke had taken the opposite side. He'd been the good guy. The honest guy. The safe guy.
It wasn't until last night with Janica that he'd stopped being all those things, that he'd let himself explore the man hiding beneath the layers, beneath the driven surgeon who never let anyone down.
Jesus, he was letting Janica down. He knew he was, with the way he kept using her body, with the way he kept pushing and shoving at her, not just physically, but emotionally.
And still, she thought she loved him.
He still didn't see it. Couldn't possibly understand why. How.
Didn't even begin to comprehend why his chest felt so tight every time she was close. Every time he looked at her, or touched her. Every time she said "I love you."
He and Janica shouldn't fit together like this. She shouldn't feel like the missing piece of him. Not when anyone could see that the two of them were all wrong for each other.
Completely, impossibly wrong.
But it was hard to think clearly about anything with her naked body warm and soft on his.
He loved the way she smelled, loved the way she tasted, loved the way her taut muscles gave way to purely feminine heat when she was coming.
His muscles that had been so taut since the night before in the ER, except for those few hours when he'd fallen asleep holding her, finally settled down, relaxing into her warmth. He let his eyes drift out to the ocean waves out the front window, seeing how blue it was for the very first time. And then he closed his eyes and unconsciously pulled her closer against him as his mind finally stopped racing.
*
Janica felt him fall asleep beneath her, just as he had the night before. She knew how hard he drove himself, knew how exhausted he had to be, and was glad that he felt comfortable enough to fall asleep with her not once, but twice, even with the sunlight streaming in.
She, on the other hand, felt much too amped up to sleep. And she knew if she stayed with him like this, there'd be no way to stop herself from waking him up to make love to him again.
It wasn't that she didn't want to have sex with him again. Of course she did. He was the most spectacular lover she'd ever been with. No one else had ever made her body come alive like he did.
But right now, before she took him inside her body again, before she came apart beneath his mouth and hands, before he pressed his mouth to hers and she took her next breath from his lungs, she needed to figure out a way to deal with all the secrets she'd just admitted to him.
It was one thing to tell him she loved him.
It was another entirely to detail it, to lay it out in such painful clarity.
Now, there was no way she could ever back away from it. No way she could try to take it back, or say she'd simply been wrapped up in the great sex.
And from this moment forward, her stark emotional admission would always be between them.
Shifting gently out of his arms, she covered him with a blanket, put her clothes back on, and went outside to get her sketchbook out of the car.
During the hardest times in her life, when she felt twisted up inside, the only chance she had of making it through in one piece was if she was putting her feelings down on paper, one image at a time.
So that's what she'd do now, in this cabin on the ocean in Big Sure, with Luke sleeping on the couch beneath a soft blanket she pulled up over his naked body. Even though she already knew that this time the problem was bigger than her pencil and paper.
Chapter Twelve
Where was she?
Luke kicked off the blanket and sat up, looking for any sign that Janica was still there. But her clothes and her bag were gone.
She was gone.
No!
It was almost impossible to breathe until he walked to the door and saw her sitting on a rock just off the deck, her head bent down over her notepad as she captured the setting sun over the ocean.
My God, she was beautiful. How had he missed seeing her all these years?
Or had he?
His brain spiraled back five years to their meetings about Lily and Travis. Hadn't there been something there? An attraction he hadn't wanted to acknowledge because she was so young, so impetuous, so forward and overtly sexy.
He saw her pencil still on the page, knew she sensed his presence.
Turning her head to look at him, she scanned his naked body with a saucy grin. "It's been a long time since I did a figure model drawing class. You would've caused a riot. For the girls and the boys."
Looking down at himself, he shook his head. He hadn't even realized he was still naked. All he could think about when he woke up was Janica.
If she had left.
Or if she had made the choice to stay.
Closing her notepad, she stood up and said, "I'm starved. Have you got any food?"
"I don't know."
He hadn't been thinking about food when he got here. Just getting drunk.
And feeling sorry for himself.
Moving past him, the soft fabric of her shirt brushing lightly against his already half-mast cock, she went to look in the refrigerator. He had his pants on by the time she pulled out some eggs, a block of cheese, and some sausage.
Watching her maneuver around the kitchen gave him another chance to see her in a completely new light. He'd never thought of her as someone who would even know how to boil water, let alone whip up omelets.
Minutes later, she was pushing a plate over to him. Coming to sit beside him at the kitchen island, she smiled and said, "Sex always makes me hungry," before forking out a bite from the plate.
"This is great." The best omelet he'd ever had. "Where'd you learn to cook?"
"Thanks," she said. And then, "Lily taught me when we were kids." She shrugged. "I guess she figured since we were fending for ourselves she wanted to make sure I never starved if something ever happened to her."
She'd been so young when her parents had died and the Aunt who had taken in Janica and Lily wasn't exactly the motherly type.
"It must've been hard for you."
Again, she shrugged. "Lily took really good care of me. Better than most of my friends' parents."
He knew what she was doing, trying to act tough, like she hadn't been hurt. Because that was just what he'd always done. What he was still doing.
"Still, there's a difference between a sister and a mother. I'm sorry, Janica."
"Don't feel sorry for me. I'm fine."
"Are you?"
Her fork stilled halfway to her mouth. It started shaking in her hand and she dropped it to the plate in obvious frustration.
"Fuck. What is it about you that has me wanting to spill all my secrets?"
He didn't know. But he did know that he wanted to be there for her. For now, at least, while they were spending time together. Later...well, he wasn't going to think about later, didn't want to have to face the aftermath of being so close to Janica. And then not having her in his life anymore.
"Tell me, Janica."
He realized that he hated to see her close herself off to him. That he much preferred the way she looked when she was in his arms and she was totally open, totally pure in her confession of love. Whether or not he believed that her loving him was even possible.
Needing to let her know she could trust him with the pain she felt over losing her paretns at such a young age, he said, "I want to listen to you."
She stared
at him in silence for long enough that he found himself fighting the urge to fidget on the bar stool.
Finally, he saw her come to a decision. To trust him.
"Even when I was a little girl I knew how strong I was. That I'd always figure out a way to take care of myself, no matter what happened. Lily was the emotional one. The soft one. Like I said before, I was so glad that she had you to protect her when we were growing up." She paused, took a deep breath. A breath that shook a little bit and shifted something inside of his chest, broke something down, a wall he'd built around his heart so long ago. "But the thing is, sometimes my whole tough girl act gets a little old, even for me. Especially when it's what everyone expects from me, all the time."
He should have been amazed to find out that she wasn't nearly as strong as she seemed. But, then, hadn't he already seen it for himself? When he was making love to her and tears were falling from her eyelashes as she confessed her love, wasn't she just as vulnerable as anyone else?
His voice gentle, he said, "It shouldn't matter what other people expect from you. You should be able to just be yourself."
She looked out the window at the water, frowning. "I don't know who else I can be." She turned and gave him a crooked grin that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Take you, for instance. You've always thought I was a total brat."
At this point, he knew better than to try and deny it. She'd know he was lying. And the one thing he knew for sure was that he didn't want to ever lie to her.
"You're right. I did. But that didn't mean I wasn't impressed by you at the same time."
Guilt had already kicked in big time at the way he'd treated her since last night. Before that even. And now that she was being so honest with him, he felt more contrite than ever.
"I don't want to hurt you, Janica."
She blinked at his abrupt statement, her mouth opening slightly, her tongue flicking out in a surprisingly nervous gesture.
"Trust me, I'll tell you if you get too rough." She smiled that sexy smile that sent blood rushing to his groin. "You haven't even gotten close yet."
But he wasn't talking physical. God, he hated having to lay it out like this, but there was no other way. Not if it meant lying to her. Not if it meant making her promises that he couldn't possibly keep.
"Your coming here means more to me than I can say, Janica. But it won't work."
She cocked her head to the side, acting like she didn't know exactly what he was saying.
"It?"
Fuck. She was forcing him to be as brutally honest as she'd been.
"Us. You and me."
She licked her lips again, dropped her eyes to his mouth. "Seems to me we work together pretty damn well."
Despite the heavy nature of their conversation, his cock instantly responded to her words, to that one look. And the awesome visuals and memories that went with them.
"Look, I've never been more sexually compatible with another woman, but--"
"But this thing we're doing could never be more than sex?"
Shit. He felt like the world's biggest asshole.
"Right," he forced out. Asshole didn't even come close.
She didn't look angry, thank god, but he hated the slight downturn of her beautiful mouth. As if she was tasting something sour.
"Because you're you and I'm me? Apples and oranges?"
Again, he had to force out an, "Exactly."
She stared at him as if daring him to look away. "I don't buy it."
What the fuck? He'd just told her he couldn't foresee any kind of future with her and she was questioning him? Any other woman would've probably been crying. But not Janica.
Despite himself, his respect for her notched up another level.
And a sweet sense of relief that he hadn't seen coming flooded through him as she said, "I think you like me a whole lot more than you want to admit. And don't tell me that if I leave right now you won't be coming by my place later to fuck my brains out again."
A warning light flashed before him. Partly because he was afraid she was right. Partly because he didn't want her to be right. He'd always been in control. Always.
But something told him where Janica was concerned, he might not ever be in control again.
It was unthinkable not to fight it, not to fight what he was feeling, not to fight what he couldn't possibly understand.
"Right there," he said in just as challenging a voice as she'd made her previous statement, "that's exactly why we could never work as a couple."
"A couple, huh?" She cocked one eyebrow up in an exaggerated manner.
She was turning his words around like a lawyer intent on prosecution. "Jesus, Janica, you're not listening to me!"
"Yes I am, Luke."
"No, damn you, you're not!"
Fuck. He never raised his voice. Except with her.
"Actually," she said sweetly, "I thought I'd been listening to you pretty darn well. Did I not drop to my knees or strip fast enough for you last night?"
"And that's another thing," he found himself saying as he tried to keep up with her. "That's not how I have sex."
"Could have fooled me," she retorted. "Seemed like you knew exactly what you were doing." She paused, narrowed her eyes. "At least in my experience."
Jealousy bit him in the ass at the thought of her role-playing with another man. He couldn't stand the vision of another man ripping her dress from her, giving her commands, forcing her to suck his dick.
"How many other guys have you let dominate you?"
"Is that what you did?"
His jaw felt tight from gritting his teeth together so hard. Why couldn't she make this easier on him?
Of course she couldn't. She was Janica Ellis.
The ultimate pain in the ass.
And...the sweetest lover he'd ever had.
"You know damn well what I made you do," he said in rough voice.
She grinned and he was surprised by it. Just as he was continually surprised by everything she did. That was her problem, she was unpredictable. Or, he thought a beat later, maybe the problem was that she was predictably wild. Sexy. Overwhelming to his senses. He just couldn't take her in, couldn't process her in a rational way.
"I loved every single second of 'what you made me do'," she said with finger quotes around the words.
Damn it, she wasn't answering his question. "Tell me, Janica. How many?"
"You're mighty possessive about my sex life, you know, Luke," she said, but he'd already reached--and was headed past--his boiling point.
He shoved their plates across the counter with a loud screech. "Tell me, now, or I swear to God I'm going to--"
Another sexy little smile. "What are you going to do? Spank me?"
Jesus, he shouldn't be getting harder at the thought of spanking her. His palm suddenly itched to caress her ass.
Her eyes widened as she took in his reaction to her teasing. "You actually want to, don't you?"
He shook his head. "I don't."
Fuck.
He did.
"I'm not the submissive type." More softly, "I've never been like that with anyone but you. I've never wanted to be like that with anyone but you."
As she said it, he knew she had to be telling the truth. Because in all the years he'd known her, she'd never been the least bit submissive. It was just that night in her apartment she'd been so perfect, as if she practiced following sexual orders a hundred times.
Unable to understand any of it, he had to ask, "Then why?"
She looked him straight in the eye and said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Because you needed me."
Chapter Thirteen
There were so many things she wanted to ask him. But there had already been too many revelations on these kitchen bar stools.
"Come on. Let's go outside. Take a walk on the beach before it gets dark."
Without waiting for his agreement, she headed out the door and down the steep set of stairs that led down to the sand. Her body, her
brain, felt tingly, jumpy. Like with every word out of her mouth, with every revelation she hadn't intended to reveal, she was changing into someone else.
And suddenly she knew for sure that the woman she'd been last night and the woman she'd be when she left this cabin would be very different people.
Thanks to Luke.
At first she didn't hear his footsteps on the stairs behind her. She was nearly at the bottom before they came.
Clearly, he was having a hard time. With her, obviously. But what else was bothering him so much?
It was exactly what she intended to find out.
Her feet bare, she walked through dry sand to where it was dark and cold and wet.
For being such a city girl, she had always loved nature. In fact, she rarely worked out in a gym, preferring to go for a hike or an open-water swim.
A wave came in and as the water frothed over her feet, she shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.
"Cold?"
"Come here and feel it for yourself."
When he didn't walk into the surf, she held out an arm to him. "Don't worry, I'll keep you safe."
She realized the hugeness of what she'd said as his eyes bore into her, as serious as she'd ever seen him. She tried to open her mouth to make a joke that would minimize it, but nothing came.
Because she'd meant it. She would keep him safe.
If he would let her.
Finally, he came forward and took her hand. And the incredible thing was, even after all of the amazing things he'd done to her body, his simply holding her hand was the most wonderful thing of all.
Together, they stood at the edge of the surf in perfect silence, holding hands. Janica worked to memorize every sensation. The slightly rough skin of his palm against hers. The smell of salt water and redwood trees. The sun fading behind wispy clouds.
How numb her feet were.
"I can't feel my toes anymore."
She was glad to hear him chuckle. "Me either."
Not letting go of his hand, she said, "Let's walk some circulation back into them."
Perhaps if she'd been someone else, the perfectly sweet, biddable woman that Luke thought he belonged with, she would have simply been content to enjoy his company out on the sunset beach.