Catching Fireflies(76)

“I never considered the possibility before, but are you some kind of saint?”

J.C. laughed. “Hardly, but if my gesture keeps me from being tossed back out on the street, I’ll take it as a good sign that I might be on my way to improving my image.”

She gave him a curious look. “Was there something wrong with your image?”

“Guilt by association,” he said.

“Ah, the Bill Townsend connection,” she said. “Of course. I don’t think that’s being held against you so much anymore. I believe some of the Sweet Magnolias have told you that themselves, have they not? And I happen to know that there are a lot of moms who think you hung the moon.” She grinned. “The single ones especially!”

Though she said it lightheartedly, he frowned. “You know I’ve never gone out with any of them, right? Single moms tend to be vulnerable. That’s a bad match for a guy like me who’s not looking for permanent.”

It was her turn to frown. “Message received.”

She turned to walk away, but he caught her by the shoulder and insisted she face him. “There was no intended message for you,” he said. He held her gaze, his expression earnest. “Something changed when we met, Laura. I can’t explain it, and I’m not entirely sure what’s going on with us, but I’m more open to the possibilities than I ever expected to be. Can that be enough for now?”

He waited, his breath caught in his throat. The reaction surprised him. He’d never felt this kind of uncertainty before awaiting a decision from a woman. When he had ventured out on a few discreet dates, he’d been the one in control. Now it was evident that something had shifted, and Laura held all the cards. It unnerved him.

“You’re really open to the possibilities?” she asked, studying his face.

“Completely open,” he confirmed. “Which is not to say that I’m entirely happy about that. Turning my back on a long-held conviction about relationships isn’t easy.”

She smiled. “Yes, I can understand how tough it must be to back down even a tiny bit from a stance once you’ve taken it. There’s all that male pride and determination on the line.”

“Something like that,” he agreed.

There was more, of course. There was the risk to his heart, a risk he’d vowed never again to take.



Pleased by the conversation she’d had with J.C. and feeling surprisingly optimistic, Laura allowed herself to soak in the tub as ordered, while they waited for the food to arrive from Rosalina’s. There was something amazingly sexy about knowing that he was just on the other side of the door while she lay here submerged in a rapidly disappearing sea of fragrant bubbles.

She closed her eyes and had a sudden image of what it would be like if the door opened and a stripped J.C. climbed into the tub with her. She could practically feel his hands sliding over her body, feel his slick skin next to hers, imagine his unmistakable arousal.

“Laura!”

The sound of his voice startled her so badly, she sat up too quickly and sloshed half the water out of the tub and onto the floor.

“You awake?” he asked, amusement threading through his voice.

Awake? She was so stimulated she might not sleep for a week.

“I’m awake,” she said in a voice that shook just a little.

“The food’s here. Take your time, though. I’ve popped the pizza in the oven on warm.”

Suddenly the thought of garlic and cheese and tomato sauce had her mouth watering. She realized she’d missed lunch entirely, and, delicious though it had been, the mango-papaya smoothie hadn’t quite made up for it. She was starving. Or maybe it was sexual frustration that had her craving food, all of a sudden.

She scrambled out of the tub, dried herself and mopped up the floor, then pulled on a pair of leggings and a comfortable shirt that barely reached her knees. Though it was something she often wore around the house, she had a hunch it had a morning-after vibe about it that took it a notch above casual to flat-out sexy. With her hair swept up in a careless knot, strands coming loose around her face, and just a touch of lipstick, she had a pretty good idea of J.C.’s likely reaction. Tongue-tied would be nice, especially since that’s the way he often made her feel.

When she wandered into the kitchen, she saw that he’d made himself at home. The table had been set, the wine poured and the aroma of the pizza filled the room.

“You are very handy to have around,” she said, catching him off guard as he rinsed off the cutting board he’d apparently used to chop a few additions to Rosalina’s traditional house salad.

“It’s my aim to please,” he said as he turned, then blinked. “Holy-moley!”