Somebody's Lover Page 2

  He’d tried his damndest to make it up to Taylor for what he’d done. Anything she needed around the house, he took care of it. He fathered the boys the best he could. He never partied, never more than one beer on a Saturday night with a couple of friends. He stopped dating entirely. He acted the part of role model for her kids. He tried to give them back what he’d stolen, their father’s closeness. He tried to give Taylor everything.

  Except the thing sometimes a woman wanted most. A touch. A caress. A rustle under the covers and a warm body to fill her up. To make her laugh again.

  Her laughter had always tied him in knots. But she hadn’t laughed like that in a long time, and he’d been safe.

  Until tonight. Until she’d laughed with another man.

  Until she’d thrown herself at him in the truck and kissed him like there was no tomorrow. Like there was no Lou. Like Jace was the only man on earth she needed.

  He rammed the truck in gear and laid rubber before he succumbed to the memory of that kiss. His first, only, and last taste of her.

  Chapter Two

  The night before Taylor had been embarrassed. Today she was mortified. Evelyn, her mother-in-law, had brought the kids home at about ten-thirty this morning, then stayed to help Taylor get ready for the family barbecue. Every Sunday, rain or shine, the family got together. Taylor, Evelyn, and Connie, Evelyn’s second daughter-in-law, took turns playing hostess. This week was Taylor’s turn.

  She’d put the high-heeled shoes in their box on the top shelf of the closet and hidden the leather skirt and spandex shirt at the back of her underwear drawer in case Connie wanted to borrow some clothes. They often swapped outfits instead of buying something new, especially when Connie claimed Mitch was being tight, as he was recently.

  Jace arrived at noon, hair still wet from his shower, and got the barbecue going, because that was man’s work. Taylor hadn’t been able to meet his eye, so she didn’t know if he’d even looked at her. She crossed her fingers, hoped and prayed he wouldn’t say anything to anyone about having seen her last night.

  It would have been a lot easier to forget if he didn’t look so good in jeans. His chestnut hair was starting to wave as it dried in the sun. He looked so hot, her heart did a little rat-a-tat-tat against her breast.

  She’d always thought he was good-looking. She’d never felt guilty about admiring his butt in jeans before, because she’d always stopped herself right there. Well, almost right there.

  Evelyn wouldn’t understand about last night. As much as Taylor told herself she wouldn’t be tossed out of the family if she one day invited a boyfriend to the Sunday barbecue, her heart told her otherwise. She was Lou’s wife, and widowed or not, she always would be.

  The family never talked about Lou’s death. They never even said the word dead. Sometimes it was as if Evelyn and Arthur pretended their eldest son was away on a trip. She couldn’t hurt them by dating a new man. She didn’t want to. She got all she needed from being a part of the Jackson family.

  Almost all she needed. Now Jace knew her dark secret. She prayed he’d keep it to himself.

  “Since our men and the kids are all busy,” Evelyn said with a nod at the horseshoe game well under way, “I’ll finish up this potato salad.” She scooped the last glob of potato goo onto her plate. “Connie, you eat the rest of the coleslaw.” She skipped Taylor because her plate was still half full.

  Connie plopped two spoons of slaw onto her plate before waving fondly at her kids. She and Mitch had been married nine years, with Pete coming along just shy of the first year and Rina a couple of years later.

  “Go, Rina,” Evelyn yelled when the little girl’s horseshoe came within two feet of the spike.

  Her mother-in-law’s short cap of gray hair bounced in her excitement, and laugh lines crinkled the corners of her eyes. Her smile took five years off her age of fifty-seven. Terrified of crow’s feet, Taylor’s own mother hadn’t laughed extensively. Not like Evelyn did when a grandkid spouted something outrageous or one of her boys jokingly gave her a hard time. Her sons would always be boys to her, though they ranged in age from David’s thirty-four years to Mitch at thirty-two and Jace at thirty.

  Lou would have been thirty-six. Taylor knew that Evelyn missed him every hour of every day. Truth be told, there hadn’t been as much laughter or joking since Lou died. Most times, any gaiety centered around the children.

  Lou had left a hole none of them had been able to fill. But Evelyn tried, insisting on the barbecues every Sunday and sharing all the holidays together.

  “Arthur, have you got your sunscreen on?” Evelyn called, before popping the last fork of potato salad in her mouth.

  Arthur patted his bald head. “Dear, we’re in the shade.”

  “The sun’s moving round. You don’t want to look like a pink Easter egg.” Then she lowered her voice, “Actually, he’s cute when he has a little pink on top, don’t you think, girls?”

  “He’s adorable no matter what, Mom.” Taylor loved the way Evelyn talked about her husband. Never a snide remark or a cutting glance. Unlike Taylor’s parents.

  “He’s an old fart,” Evelyn scoffed and smiled at the same time. “But he’s my old fart.”

  This is what she’d dreamed of having for herself someday, but she’d put those dreams aside after Lou died. Instead, she had his family. They were everything to her. When Taylor’s parents died in a car accident at the end of her second year in college, Evelyn had taken her under her wing like a chick kicked out of the nest. Or like the mom her own mother had never been. Trundled off to boarding schools or put to bed by au pairs when her parents were traveling, Taylor had been a lonely child, an only child. But not once she met Lou’s family. First daughter-in-law, mother of the first grandchild, Taylor also liked to think of herself as the daughter Evelyn never had. Evelyn was certainly the only real mother Taylor had ever known.

  She wouldn’t risk hurting either Evelyn or Arthur.

  Still, she found herself staring at Jace. At his rear end actually, in those jeans. She remembered last night, the taste of him in her mouth, the feel of him against her breasts. And she knew she was in trouble.

  “You know, girls, we’re outnumbered. Look at all those males, and one teeny-tiny girl. We need to get David married.” New daughters-in-law and new grandkids were fine for Evelyn.

  A new boyfriend for her son’s widow wouldn’t be, Taylor was almost sure.

  “David’s too mopey to find a wife,” Connie snorted.

  “David does not mope, Connie.”

  “What’s he doing right now, then?”

  They all looked. David, the second boy, now the eldest. He’d never been the happy-go-lucky kind, but since Lou’s death, he’d become downright standoffish. Even now, he stood back, arms folded over his chest, watching, not participating. He always came to the barbecues, that was Evelyn’s rule, but he hadn’t seemed a part of them for a long time.

  “He’s fine,” Evelyn said, but a frown puckered her brow. She knew as well as anybody that David was not exactly fine.

  “What about marrying off Jace?” Connie suggested.

  Taylor wanted to kick her under the picnic table.

  “That boy is not done sowing his wild oats.”

  Taylor’s stomach did a little heave-ho. Jace’s wild oats and wilder women had never bothered her before. Besides, he didn’t flaunt his women anymore. He was actually pretty circumspect, probably out of respect for being the boys’ little league coach.

  So why did his wild oats bother her now?

  Because she’d tasted him, and she’d loved the way he tasted. That kiss had changed the way she thought of him. For a woman who professed she didn’t want change in her life, she’d brought on a doozy last night.

  He’d probably been intending to pick up a woman at the Saddle-n-Spurs.

  Instead, Taylor had picked him up. Sort of.

  Connie twirled her fork around her plate. “What if I were to tell you your wish might come true?”

/>   Evelyn practically beamed like a ray of sun. “You found a wife for David?”

  “No-oh.” Connie frowned. “I meant another little girl.”

  “Don’t tell me.” Evelyn’s brow frown deepened.

  “I’m late,” Connie said. “Very late. Don’t tell Mitch.”

  Evelyn was silent a second too long. “Honey, you have to tell Mitch. You should have told him before you told us.”

  “You know how he is.” Connie sighed. “He’ll start running numbers in his calculator and freak out about not knowing where to come up with the money for diapers and clothes and stuff.”

  Not to mention medical bills, insurance, and on and on. A new baby was very expensive. Taylor didn’t voice the thought. Connie was sweet, loved her kids more than anything in the world, and was the best mom, but she could be a bit unrealistic at times. She’d probably invented rose-colored glasses.

  “Because Mitch worries is exactly why you have to tell him,” Evelyn insisted. “Have you been to the doctor yet?”

  “No. I wanted to wait another week or so.”

  “Have you at least peed on the stick?” Which was Evelyn’s euphemism for home pregnancy tests.

  “I don’t need to. I can feel the changes. I didn’t need the stick to know Rina was coming along.”

  “Heavens, girl, you better tell Mitch soon.”

  Connie’s usually perky lower lip trembled. “I thought you’d be happy. I think it’s another girl.”

  “I am happy.” But the laughter had faded from Evelyn’s eyes. “But that boy’s the worry wart in this family, always trying to keep up with his brothers as if thinks he’s got something to prove.” She sighed, gazing across the yard. “And I don’t like keeping secrets from my boys. So promise you’re going to tell him.”

  Connie nodded. “I promise. As soon as I get a test. There isn’t any sense in worrying him before I’m positive.”

  “There’s a good girl.” Evelyn patted her hand.

  They sat in silence for a few moments, watching the game’s progress. Childish laughter and whooping rang out across the yard as Brian made a perfect throw. Jace, always wonderful with her boys, gave him a high five.

  “Jace is looking mighty fine today.”

  Taylor shot Connie a look. The younger woman sat with her chin propped on her hand, her gaze on the very part of Jace’s anatomy Taylor herself had been watching too much that day.

  Why had she said that? Taylor’s mind started working overtime. Connie hadn’t noticed something different, had she?

  Taylor suddenly needed to busy herself. “I’ll take these inside.” She hastily gathered empty bowls and stacked the dirty paper plates.

  “I’ll help you in a minute,” Evelyn said as she clapped for another well-aimed throw, this time by Taylor’s youngest, Jamey.

  Taylor headed for the house, but couldn’t resist one more glance at the game. At that moment, Jace looked up. At her. Even from this distance, she could see the smolder in his eyes.

  He hadn’t put last night out of his mind either.

  * * * * *

  “Will you look at that?” Connie mused.

  “What?” Evelyn pulled together the plates Taylor couldn’t carry.

  “That.” Connie nodded at Jace with her chin. “He’s been watching Taylor all day.”

  Evelyn looked. She didn’t see anything. Jace was helping Rina get ready for another throw, demonstrating the proper stance. “You’ve got a fertile imagination.”

  Connie’s eyes twinkled. “Fertile is right.”

  Evelyn felt a little catch in her throat. She loved Connie. She loved both her boys’ wives. But Connie sometimes got things set wrong in her head. Evelyn debated briefly about pulling Mitch aside tomorrow and telling him about the maybe-baby, but discarded the idea. That’s one thing she’d vowed she’d never do, get involved in her boys’ marriages, any of them.

  She ignored Connie’s little joke. “Jace is acting the same way he always does.”

  “No. He keeps watching Taylor. Whenever she’s not looking his way. And she’s doing the same thing.” Connie gave a sly smile. “Something’s going on there.”

  Taylor and Jace? Evelyn gave her youngest a long look. She used to wish he’d find a woman like Taylor. Someone who would settle his oats, calm him down a little. He was her baby, her wild boy, the one who had given her quite a few sleepless nights.

  Though he’d changed since Lou’s death. There were times he brooded over things that weren’t his fault, she knew. A mother who’d always been able to talk to her sons about anything, Jace’s guilt was the one thing she’d never been able to bring up with him. He’d walk out of the room rather than listen to her. It wasn’t something she could discuss with Arthur either. Arthur never talked about that day, and she certainly couldn’t bring up her worries over Jace. She’d been married to Arthur for almost forty years, but that was a subject over which she couldn’t predict his reaction. So she let sleeping dogs lie. Jace needed to deal with it on his own. He’d taken to treating Lou’s boys like they were his, coaching their little league team, taking them to father-son days at school or camp. He fixed whatever Taylor needed fixing around the house. He changed her oil when the car needed it, came over to mow the lawn. He did Lou’s jobs. Atonement? Probably. Yes, for sure.

  But something more with Taylor? That girl wasn’t looking for a husband or a man. She was fine with her boys and the family. No one would ever replace Lou for her. If Jace thought otherwise, he was in for a big heartache.

  “Hey, Jace,” Connie called. “Come here.”

  He ambled over politely, but darn if his glance didn’t stray to the screen door through which Taylor had disappeared, and might reappear at any moment. A shiver ran down Evelyn’s spine. She didn’t want her boy hurt, she didn’t want her family hurt, especially not Arthur. She didn’t think he’d be able to handle the day Taylor found another man. If that man were Jace? Heaven help them.

  But Taylor wasn’t interested in another. How many times had she said she was happy with her life the way it was? Selfishly, Evelyn prayed she meant it.

  Connie kicked her under the table, then smiled at Jace. “Did Taylor tell you her faucet’s leaking?”

  “No, Connie, she didn’t.”

  “Well, it is.”

  He nodded, his head tipped slightly. “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll take care of it as soon as I get a chance.” Then he backed away, giving Connie an odd, speculative look.

  He was a good-looking boy. All her boys were. Big, strapping, brown-haired boys. But Jace looked the most like Lou. Sometimes, when Jace came up the walk at the house, her heart would give a little leap. For a moment, when she forgot Lou was gone, the joy overtook her and she thought her eldest was coming home after a long time away. Then she’d remember, and the memory would steal her breath and start an ache in her heart that wouldn’t quit until she cried herself to sleep while Arthur watched TV in the living room.

  Taylor and Jace? Evelyn prayed it wasn’t so. He’d never be able to forget Taylor was his brother’s widow, and Taylor would always be seeing Lou in Jace’s face.

  And Arthur? Well, she couldn’t think about how Arthur would feel. Or what he’d do.

  Chapter Three

  Monday morning Taylor had nipped down to the office after dropping the boys off at school. They’d be out for summer next week, and she’d do most of her work at home then. She did the accounts and payroll for Jackson and Sons Arborists. Evelyn acted as receptionist, accounts receivable clerk and general office person. The only adult family member not working in the business was Connie. Rina would be starting school in the fall, but until then, Connie had wanted to stay home. With a new baby on the way, well, she wouldn’t be starting work any time soon.

  Returning home, Taylor dropped last week’s receipts and payables in the bedroom she used as an at-home office, then went back to the kitchen to start another pot of coffee.

  After filling the carafe at the sink, she tightly twi
sted the faucet, but the drip didn’t stop. If it had started last week, she’d have asked Jace to take a look. After Saturday night, she couldn’t look him in the eye, let alone ask him for a favor. She could fix it herself. Lou was always showing her how to do things around the house. She’d let Jace take over Mr. Fix-it because it seemed to make him feel good. Same as it did when he took the boys for an outing. She knew he felt like he had to make up for Lou’s death. Though they’d never talked about it, guilt racked him for not being there that day. But they never would talk about it, the whole subject taboo in the family.

  Just then, his truck pulled into the driveway. Taylor’s hands started to tremble, and she almost dropped the carafe.

  What was he doing here?

  He slammed the truck door. A black T-shirt molded his chest, and his jeans hugged in all the right places. She’d felt exactly how right against her the other night. Lord, he looked good. Too good. He took her breath away. With a bag tucked under his arm, he flipped through his keys as he walked up the path to the front door. Sunlight gleamed off his hair.

  The key rattled in the lock, then the door opened. She’d given him his own set because he often came over to take care of a job when she wasn’t home. She hadn’t expected him today. In fact, she’d brought the paperwork home in order to avoid him if he dropped by the office.

  She smelled him first, a clean, recently showered scent. When on earth had she started noticing the way he smelled? Thinking like a woman in heat.

  Fishing in the bag as he entered the kitchen, he stopped . Then lifted his head. Taylor’s skin prickled. The room temperature rose. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.

  “I thought you’d be at work,” he said.

  “I’m working at home today. I thought you’d be out on that job with your dad.”