The Truth About Tara Page 18

  He claimed her soft, willing lips. He’d already figured out she liked long, drugging kisses. She opened her mouth in invitation and his tongue tangled with hers, teasing and tasting. Jack had never been addicted to anything in his life, except perhaps baseball. It occurred to him that he could get hooked on Tara.

  He threaded one of his hands in her hair and slid the other slowly up her rib cage until he caressed her full breasts through the material of her shirt. She gasped against his mouth. His body grew hard in response, even harder than when he’d seen her at the door.

  She lifted her arms and he pulled her sleeveless shirt and then her sports bra over her head. His fingers were shaking slightly, something that had never happened to him before. For a moment he didn’t touch her. He just stared. Her breasts were high and firm, the nipples already taut. Naked from the waist up, she looked like a goddess.

  “I’ve been imagining you like this since I first saw you,” he said.

  “Really?” Her voice was low pitched and throaty. “In front of the elementary school when you thought I was that missing girl?”

  “Maybe not then,” he said. “But for sure at the grocery store. I had some naughty thoughts in the produce section.”

  With her eyes dancing, she moved her hands to her waist and slowly shimmied out of first her shorts and then her panties.

  Her legs were long, her stomach flat and her hips slightly rounded, all things that were evident when she was clothed. But her high firm breasts were large for a woman as thin as she was.

  “You’re gorgeous,” Jack said. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

  “No fair,” she said. “I’m the only one who’s naked.”

  He fixed that in record time, wincing in pain when he accidentally jerked his shoulder.

  “Does your shoulder hurt?” she asked.

  He ignored the throbbing. “It’s nothing.”

  Tara closed the slim gap between them, lightly tracing the shape of his sore shoulder. He groaned and cupped her buttocks, bringing her securely against him, letting her feel how much he wanted her. He couldn’t remember ever desiring a woman more.

  She lifted her mouth and he covered it with his in a hungry kiss, his tongue advancing and retreating, his hands roaming over her lovely naked skin.

  The bed was nearby. He wasn’t sure how they got there, but suddenly they were tumbling together to the mattress. The thought ran through his mind that he was falling for her.

  He rained kisses from her neck to the slope of her breasts. His tongue circled her nipple, which was already a hard peak. Soft sounds of pleasure escaped her lips. Pressing herself against him, she moved her hips in

  invitation.

  “Ah, Tara,” he said.

  “Don’t you dare ask me if I’m sure,” she said.

  Jack laughed, amazed that she could both turn him on and amuse him at the same time. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  He intended to ease slowly inside her, but then she moved her lower body upward in blatant invitation.

  He entered her, unable to hold himself back any longer. He didn’t have to, because she met him thrust for thrust.

  His last coherent thought before he lost himself in her was the same one he’d had when they tumbled together to the bed.

  He was falling for her.

  * * *

  TARA CAME SLOWLY AWAKE on Tuesday morning and stretched her limbs, feeling as content as a cat. No, scratch that. As content as a woman who’d been made love to by the most delicious man not once, but twice in—she checked the bedside clock—nine hours.

  She sat bolt upright in bed, the sheets falling away from her naked breasts. It was already seven o’clock, and she needed to be at camp by nine.

  The view of the bay was once again on display through the bedroom window. Jack must have opened the blinds when he awoke so she could enjoy the view. She smiled at his thoughtfulness. But where was he? She ran her hand over the side of the bed on which he’d slept and found it cold to the touch.

  A murmur of voices drifted through the open door of the bedroom from the main part of the house. Did Jack have company? She listened more closely and could make out only Jack’s voice. He must be on the telephone.

  She pulled her shirt over her head, tugged on her panties and got out of bed. She peeked around the side of the door. Jack sat on one of the kitchen chairs with a cell phone to his ear, his long, hair-sprinkled legs extended in front of him. His dark hair was tousled, he could have used a shave and he wore gym shorts and a T-shirt. Under the shirt his abdomen was flat and firm. She’d run her hands over the play of muscles just last night. Warmth spread through Tara as she remembered the other things they’d done to each other in bed and the way Jack had made very sure her needs were satisfied before meeting his own.

  “I’m not becoming a recluse, Maria,” he said into the phone with what sounded like exaggerated patience. “I’m rehabbing my shoulder in a place where I can get some peace and quiet. There’s a difference.”

  He fell silent as he listened to what was being said on the other end of the line. Suddenly his brows rose and his lips curved into a smile that crinkled the skin at the corners of his eyes and mouth. He’d spotted her.

  He pointed at the cell phone, silently mouthing the words “My sister.”

  She nodded and gestured toward the bedroom, hoping to convey she was going to use the bathroom and get dressed. Luckily she had a change of clothes in her gym bag, which Jack had fetched from the car the night before.

  A short time later, she walked into the main living area of the house. Jack was still on the phone. He’d moved from the table to the refrigerator. He was bent at the waist, peering inside. He removed a carton of orange juice.

  “Uh-huh.” He seemed to be only half paying attention. “Yep. Sure thing. Don’t worry, okay?”

  He poured some orange juice into a glass, nodding once more. “Love you, too.”

  He clicked off the phone, picked up the orange juice and turned back toward the table. This time when he saw her he didn’t smile. “You’re dressed. I was hoping you’d stay naked.”

  She laughed. “Can I have some of that juice?”

  “You can have mine.” He set the full glass on the table. Before she could pick it up, Jack reached for her.

  He captured her mouth in a slow, thorough kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, savoring the now-

  familiar sensations he could elicit so easily from her. Too soon, he lifted his mouth. He kept his arms locked loosely around her waist.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  “Yes,” she said, feeling happiness rise in her. “It’s a very good morning.”

  “Sorry about the phone call,” he said. “I wanted to call Maria before she rung me and woke you. She’s an early riser.”

  “You shouldn’t have let me sleep so long,” she said.

  His eyes sparkled so they appeared a lighter shade of brown. “It was the least I could do after I tired you out.”

  She lifted her lips and bestowed a swift kiss on his mouth. “You could also feed me. Got any yogurt?”

  “Nope,” he said. “How about some bacon and eggs?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not a big breakfast eater. A granola bar will do, if you have it.”

  “I think I do.” He let her go and opened the door to a skinny closet in the kitchen, removing a bar from a package. She sat down at the table beside the orange juice, taking the apple-cinnamon granola bar he handed her. She could smell the bay through the screens on the house’s open windows.

  “Did you convince Maria not to worry about you?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure that’s possible,” he said, then pointed at her. “Hey, by the way, I asked who tipped her off about you looking like Hayley Cooper.”

  Tara’s breath caught before she remembered that she couldn’t be Hayley. She relaxed. Jack’s sister’s investigation into the old case no longer posed a threat to Tara or her mother.

  “What did your
sister say?” Tara asked.

  “It was somebody from a conference you attended earlier this year,” he said.

  She’d been to only one conference in recent months. “The conference in Virginia Beach? The one for elementary school physical education teachers?”

  “Yeah. That’s the conference Maria mentioned,” he said. “The tipster was a teacher, too. After she got home, she saw the age progression of Hayley on one of the missing-

  persons websites and thought it looked like you.”

  “Why would somebody from the conference be looking at missing-persons websites?” Tara asked.

  “I know the answer to that one,” Jack said. “A student from her school was missing.”

  “I wonder if that was the case in Williamsburg,” Tara mused. “It got a lot of press. Turned out the little boy’s father took him. I think he’s back with his mother now.”

  “My sister says most missing kids are snatched by people they know, usually parents,” Jack said. “Stranger abduction is actually pretty rare.”

  That wasn’t any consolation for Hayley Cooper’s parents, Tara thought.

  “Why did the teacher go to your sister and not to me?” Tara asked.

  “I don’t think she knows you except in passing,” he said. “She didn’t even give us your name. And you’ve got to admit you do look a lot like that photo. As soon as I saw you walking to Wawpaney Elementary, I realized you were the woman I was coming to see.”

  “I guess the resemblance is why I’m curious about Hayley.” Tara didn’t see any harm in admitting that. Not now. “I read about her on that website, too.”

  “Then you know as much as I do,” Jack said.

  “Not quite,” Tara said, tearing open the wrapper and biting into the granola bar. “Did your sister tell you why Hayley’s parents hired her now after so many years had passed?”

  “As a matter of fact, she did,” he said. “Hayley’s father wants to sell their house and move to Arizona, where their grandchildren are.”

  “Hayley has siblings?” Tara asked.

  “At least one,” Jack said. “Hayley’s mother wants to spend more time with her grandchildren, too. But she’s afraid moving would be like giving up hope that Hayley will ever come home.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Tara said. “Hayley was only three when she was abducted. She wouldn’t remember where they lived.”

  “Maria didn’t say the mother’s reason was rational,” Jack said. “I guess what it boils down to is that she needs closure.”

  “I can understand that.” Tara took another bite of granola and chewed slowly while she thought. “If she knew for certain that Hayley was dead, she could grieve and put her to rest. Not knowing what happened to her daughter must eat at her.”

  Jack nodded. “Unfortunately Maria says it looks like the case will never be solved. Too many years have passed.”

  Tara popped the last bite of the granola bar into her mouth and washed it down with the rest of her orange juice. She stood up, trying to put Hayley out of her mind. She felt for the little girl’s family, but there was a lot of sadness in the world. She couldn’t obsess over their loss simply because she and Hayley shared a resemblance, not when there was nothing she could do to help them.

  “I’ve gotta go,” Tara said.

  “Go?” Jack reached for her hand and drew circles on the inside of her palm with his thumb. Shivers ran down the length of her body. “Camp doesn’t start until nine.”

  Even though Jack touched only her hand, Tara felt as if her knees were about to buckle. It was ridiculous the effect the man had on her. Ridiculous and thrilling.

  “I carpool with my mom and Danny. I need to pick them up at eight-thirty.”

  His eyes grew heavy lidded. “I need you.”

  She smiled at him. “I thought I gave you enough of what you needed last night.”

  “Not even close.” With a quick tug, he pulled her down onto his lap. She fit against him perfectly, she noticed. “It’s not even seven-fifteen yet. Are you sure you can’t stay longer?”

  She ran a hand over his square jaw, needing to touch him. “Don’t you have to run on the beach or rehab your shoulder or something?” she asked, her voice breathless.

  “Later. Right now I’m exactly where I want to be.” His breath caressed her lips as he talked. She could feel his erection against her thigh.

  “This isn’t fair,” she said.

  “Sure, it is,” he said.

  She wasn’t surprised at his response. After hearing the saga of his shoulder injuries, she understood him better. He was a professional athlete. He’d do whatever it took to come out on top.

  He nuzzled her neck. Delicious goose bumps rose on her flesh.

  “What do you say?” he asked. “Especially if I promise to make it quick.”

  Unable to resist the sensations spiraling through her a moment longer, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “Don’t you dare make it too quick,” she whispered against his mouth.

  * * *

  JUST AFTER NINE ON WEDNESDAY, Tara fished the key to her mother’s house from the pocket of her shorts, unlocked the front door and hurried inside the empty house. Danny and her mom had already left for camp. Tara would get there later. She was spending the morning as an emergency fill-in volunteer at the Barrier Island Center, where she was due in a half hour.

  It felt as if all she’d done for the past two mornings was rush. Of course, the fact that she and Jack had indulged in some morning delight for the second consecutive day contributed to that. She didn’t regret telling him to take his time, though. Their lovemaking had been worth every frantic second since.

  She was a little sore, but in all the right places and only because she’d spent two nights in a row with Jack after not having sex in more than a year. Her drought was definitely over. What’s more, she had absolutely no regrets.

  A warm feeling swept through her at the thought. She identified it as contentment.

  The only downside was she barely had time to catch her breath.

  “It’s your own fault,” Tara said aloud as she ran lightly up the stairs to the closet in the guest bedroom her mother used for storage.

  While listening to Gus Miller perform flamenco guitar the other night, she’d remembered a box of maracas she’d used while teaching her physical education students aerobic dance. She’d forgotten to have a look for them until this morning.

  And once she got something in her head, it stayed put. Today, she’d decided to bring the maracas to camp for a musical activity.

  Tara glanced at her watch and slowed her breathing. If she left her mother’s house in the next ten minutes, she’d be at the center on time.

  She yanked open the closet door and groaned. Boxes were stacked from floor to ceiling. She’d have to wait until later in the week to bring the maracas to camp, after all. No way did she have time to search these boxes for them.

  Tara was about to shut the closet door when she glimpsed writing on one of the lower boxes. Could it be? She got down on her knees. Yes! She’d written “Maracas” in black magic marker on the outside of the box.

  Getting to her feet, Tara unstacked boxes until she reached the one she wanted. She slid the box free and heard the sound of cardboard ripping from the top of the box below it. She inspected the damage. The box was so old and brittle that part of its top had come loose.

  The cover of what appeared to be a photo album peeked through the opening. Tara frowned. Hadn’t her mother said all her albums sustained water damage in the move? She chewed on her lower lip. No, her mother had said she didn’t have photo albums from when Tara and Sunny were babies. Maybe this album and whatever else was in the box were from a different time. One thing was for certain. She didn’t have time to figure it out now.

  She got up, intending to restack the boxes. She hesitated, then pulled out the box with the photo album. It would be fun to look through it when she had time. Maybe it contained photos fro
m before her parents had children. She doubted her mother would mind.

  A short time later, Tara put the box of maracas on the passenger seat of her car and then deposited the other box in the trunk. She slammed the trunk shut.

  “Tara!” Mrs. Jorgenson waved at her from her porch across the street.

  “Hey, Mrs. Jorgenson.” Tara waved back, then moved toward the driver’s side of her car, hoping the woman got the message that she was in a rush. She enjoyed talking to the older woman, but not today.

  “Wait a minute.” Mrs. Jorgenson shuffled down the few porch stairs, holding tight to the railing with one hand, gripping her cane in the other. She wore a summer housedress and slippers. At the bottom of the steps she leaned on the cane and walked toward Tara, talking as she moved. “I was just thinking about you. I heard a trunk slam, looked out the window and there you were.”

  Resigning herself to a few moments of conversation, Tara crossed the street and met her mother’s neighbor on the sidewalk. The scent of the pine trees in Mrs. Jorgenson’s front yard filled the air. Again Tara noticed the slippers. Whatever her mother’s neighbor had to say must be important.

  “I hear you have a new man in your life,” Mrs. Jorgenson announced. “I met him the other day. Such a charming one, he is.”

  “He is charming,” Tara agreed, feeling her lips curl into a smile. There wasn’t any reason to hide the way she felt about him. “Kind, too. Not to mention considerate.”

  “And handsome,” Mrs. Jorgenson chimed in.

  “Yes.” Tara stopped herself from going further. She was starting to sound like the president of Jack’s fan club. “I’d love to stay and talk, Mrs. Jorgenson, but I can’t. I have somewhere I need to be soon.”

  “This won’t take but a minute,” Mrs. Jorgenson said. “I got something wrong the other day and I wanted to make sure to correct it.”

  Tara’s entire body went still. Like a portent of doom, a chill ran through her even though the temperature was in the low eighties. She had a crazy urge to cover her ears and start humming.