Not Over
Clare had a raging headache. Staring at the computer screen for hours coupled with sleepless nights were taking their toll. What she wouldn’t give for a little of JC’s tender loving care at the moment…But she was never to receive that again. He was totally gone by now. From her house. From her life. Love made you vulnerable to a fresh batch of pain. She encountered more than her share growing up, merely surviving. She didn’t need any more pain in her life. She had suffered enough.
“Clare.” Colonel Jack Morris, Clare’s military liaison offered her another cup of coffee.
Looking up, she shook her head. “I’ve had enough of your dreadful coffee, Jack. If you cut me I’ll bleed that nasty stuff.”
Jack laughed. He was a tall, handsome man about ten years Clare’s senior. His muscular build, sparkling blue eyes, and thick dark hair probably had him chasing women off with a club. That man, who looked so good in a uniform with his killer smile, had to be a chick magnet. Only Jack knew that for the past five years he had been more than a little attracted to his civilian computer expert. “She seems to be taking a rest.” He indicated the computer screen; no new activity was registering.
“It does appear that way.”
“Why don’t you grab something to eat and stretch out on a bunk for a while.”
Clare glanced about the room. They were in some underground complex from what Jack had hinted. She really wouldn’t know; she wasn’t allowed outside the immediate area. Good thing she wasn’t claustrophobic. The place didn’t have a single window. There was a single windowless bathroom with shower, sink and commode. The only other room she was allowed to enter housed a military-style bunk bed, a plain chest of drawers and a wardrobe. In one corner of the main room was a lounge with two vinyl couches, a utilitarian dining set and a small kitchen. All the comforts of home. This was the Taj Mahal next to some of the places Jack had taken her.
This time she was matching wits with a rather maniacal, female cyber terrorist. That had been the reasoning for bringing her in – men and women inherently followed differing thought patterns. And not many women had Clare’s elevated expertise and skill with computers.
Clare stood and stretched, easing the cramped muscles in her back. “I’m probably too jacked up on that junk to sleep.” She pointed to his cup.
“I like my coffee strong.”
“Strong is one thing. That stuff could bench press our combined weights.”
Jack laughed easily. “That’s our Clare. Always a joke.”
“Malcolm,” Clare spoke to a young, blonde soldier,” would you watch for activity while I rest my eyes, please?”
“Certainly, ma’am.” The soldier took her chair as she walked towards the kitchenette. “Ma’am. Isn’t that for old ladies at the supermarket?” she mumbled.
“No. Military and southern courtesy use it, too,” Jack informed her. “What can I get you?” he asked as he opened the refrigerator.
“A sandwich, I guess.” Clare dropped onto the closest couch and stretched out. Throwing an arm over her eyes, she blocked out the fluorescent glare of the overhead lights of the area.
“Do you miss him?” Jack asked as he prepared a sandwich.
“Miss who?”
“The guy that moved in.”
Great. Leave it to the good old US of A government to spy on her private life. “You need to update your intelligence, Jack. He moved out just before you kidnapped me and brought me here.”
“I almost told them I wouldn’t bring you in. I thought you finally found the one.”
“The one?” She uncovered her eyes to look at him. “You should know me by now. There is no Mr. Right. There’s just Mr. Right Now.” She sat up as he approached with the plate holding her sandwich. Taking a bite, she chewed thoughtfully. “How about you? You’re a free agent, aren’t you?”
He sat on the sofa across from hers and sprawled comfortably. “Yeah, but that’s different.”
“Different how? Because you are a man?”
“No, a military man. Right now, I don’t stay in one place long enough to connect. Covert operations are not exactly conducive to long-term relationships.” He met her eyes squarely. “But I’m not running from love either. When I finally meet the one, I’ll be more than glad to start roots.”
“I have my own roots.”
“You have a house and a business. Those are trappings. People give you roots.”
“You know my dossier.”
“You’ve always gone through men like so much Kleenex – until this Chasez guy. He’s stayed in the picture longer than any guy, except you’re college buddies. I thought maybe you loved him.”
Suddenly the sandwich tasted like sawdust. “Love hurts,” she whispered. Abruptly, she rose. “I think I will go lie down for a while.”
Clare’s fingers were flying over the keyboard as code after code blinked across the computer screen. She had finally found the backdoor the hacker had been using to try to access military files. Her opponent was trying to protect it. Clare moved; she moved. She attacked; Clare parried. She struck; Clare countered. The duel went on for hours.
“Checkmate!” Clare crowed triumphantly as the door slammed shut on the intruder. “Yess!”
Jack slapped her on the back. “You did it!”
She grinned up at him. “Was there ever any doubt?”
“None at all.” Laughing, he pulled her out of her chair for a congratulatory hug. Malcolm looked at them strangely.
Wearily, Clare laid her head against Jack’s lapel. “Can I go home now?”
Clare was barely functioning when Jack pulled into her driveway. Solicitously, he opened her door and helped from the car. He was in civilian clothing, so he looked like a guy dropping his female companion off home.
“Call him,” Jack told her when he unlocked her front door.
“Call who?”
“Chasez.”
“I’m over him,” she lied.
“No, you aren’t and I can prove it.”
“You can, can you?” she challenged.
In surprise move, he pulled her against him and covered her lips with his. With no response from her, he pulled back quickly. “Call him.”
Stunned, Clare watched him go.
JC had been there. His belongings were gone. She sighed. The house seemed uncomfortably quiet and empty. She hadn’t remembered it being that way – or maybe she had never noticed.
The only messages on her answering machine were from Mary. She was disappointed somehow. She quickly placed a call to Mary, letting her know she had returned and she would field calls in a couple of days.
Climbing to the loft, she showered, pulled on a gown and crawled into bed. Luckily, she was so exhausted she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
JC drug his hands over his face when he woke that afternoon. He was sure he had some place to be or something he was supposed to be doing, but offhand, he couldn’t recall it. Vaguely, he wondered if Clare had returned from her ‘several days’ away. It had been a couple of weeks. Did she miss him or even give him a thought? Beautiful, cowardly Clare. Maybe he’d been a fool to think he’d finally gotten through to her.
The cellphone on the bedside table chimed and he lifted it to his ear. “JC.”
“Mr. Chasez, this is Mary.”
With a heavy sigh, he asked, “What can I do for you, Mary?”
“Umm…Doctor Gatlin has returned.”
“Did she tell you to alert me?” Did Clare want to see him?
“No, sir. She told me she would be taking calls in a few days. I…She never had me call anyone before, so I thought…”
“It’s okay, Mary. Thanks.” Ringing off, JC thought about Clare. She’d been gone nearly three weeks this time. He’d been willing to bet her refrigerator needed help. He knew she’d sleep through the day. Okay, so she had told him to get lost. He didn’t plan on staying lost.
“Mmm…JC…” Clare reached for the pillow next to hers in her half-wakeful state. Coming fully awake, she realized she was in bed completely and totally alone. No JC. No Tonto. Tears filled her eyes. Scooting over, she laid her cheek on his pillow. She hadn’t had time to do laundry between JC’s departure and Jack’s arrival. It still smelled wonderfully of JC. His cologne. His shampoo. His sweat. She inhaled deeply.
In the light of day and with several weeks of reflection, she saw she had handled Tonto’s death badly. JC had done his best to comfort her and she had rejected it all. She’d been an idiot to think that in that in ridding herself of the man, she could avoid more pain. It didn’t seem to work that way. Tonto’s death had wounded her in a way she couldn’t describe, but JC’s absence left a gaping hole in her life. Jack was right on that point, she wasn’t over JC – and she was beginning to think she never would be.
But how do you start again? Would the monumental pride that had served her so well in the past allow her to admit to someone else she was wrong? That she didn’t have all the answers? She would have to try or face this emptiness for eternity. She didn’t even allow for the fact JC could reject any overtures she might make. It didn’t bear thinking. She would try to win JC back and she would win.
With that thought, she drifted back to sleep, her face buried in JC’s pillow.
Man, Clare’s fridge was bare save for long lasting items like condiments and salad dressings. JC set the garbage bag of spoiled and questionable food near the door. He’d take it to the dumpster when he finished putting the fresh food away. He wondered if the government ever reimbursed her for food spoilage.
Poor Clare. She acted so tough and independent. Who would have guessed the death of her first pet would send her into a major tailspin? He understood how traumatic an event it could be. He supposed someone like Clare, who had always kept an emotional distance; such a loss would be doubly difficult. She hadn’t needed to strike back at the only other love in her life; but she had.
Quietly and efficiently, JC restocked the groceries. Just before he left, he wrote a brief note and left it propped against the milk in the refrigerator. Grabbing the trash, he left.
Clare felt as if she had been sleeping for days – and apparently she had. She had gone to sleep on Wednesday and it was now early Friday morning. She remembered awaking to go to the bathroom and tumbling back into bed, falling promptly back to sleep. She hoped a shower would snap her out of her lethargy.
Showered, shampooed and dressed in a comfortable summer dress, Clare made her way down to the kitchen. For certain, she’d have to clean out her refrigerator as she had done numerous times before. In swinging open the door her eyes landed on JC’s note.
He’d been here? While she slept? He cared. He still cared. Suddenly, she could barely breathe for the ache in her chest. She missed him, more than missed him. Trying to put him out of her life hadn’t stopped the pain; it only made it more unbearable!
Grabbing the telephone, she punched in his cellphone number.
“Hey, it’s JC. I’m in Miami. Don’t know when I’ll return to LA. Leave a message.”
“I…umm…JC, it’s Clare. I forgot about the Challenge this weekend…Uhh…Thanks for the food…Bye.”
Ringing off, she bolted up the stairs. She called her travel agent while she gathered clothes for a trip. In typical Clare-style, she started shooting rapid-fire orders. “Delores, Clare Gatlin. Get me a flight to Miami. The one that arrives the soonest. I don’t care about how many transfers. I’ll only have carry-on. I’ll need a hotel room and a car…Yes, I know Miami is very crowded this weekend…Cost is not an object. Just get it done…Oh and by the way, *NSYNC is having some sort of party tonight. I want a ticket. You do that and there’ll be a nice bonus for you.” She laughed at something the harried woman said. “Oh, yeah. He’s more than worth it. The thing that man has put up with from me may qualify him for sainthood…” When Delores had all Clare’s requests coordinated and fulfilled, she heard something that had her in shock. “You’re wonderful! I love you for this! Thanks!”
He’d fallen asleep in the sun. How could he have possibly been so stupid? JC asked himself. He should have known better – especially since Clare had been so fanatic about sunscreen. He’d been so long in the studio and out of Florida’s blistering sun; he’d lost any built-in protection he’d had. Clare had an aloe concoction she used on burns. He wondered if she’d tell him what it was if he called. He was desperate enough to do it, too!
Picking up his cell, he saw he had a message. He recognized the number. His pulse rate picked up. Clare. Listening to the message, he thought she sounded unsure at her reception. Well, he’d just call and assure her. No answer at her house and her cell was unavailable.
“Clare, it’s JC. Call me back, honey.”
Clare noticed a message on her cell when she arrived at her hotel. She had forgotten she’d turned it off during her flight to Miami. JC…now his phone was turned off.
“Tag! You’re it!” Clare laughed on the message she left for JC. “I’m in Miami. I have a ticket for the SPI party tonight…Hopefully, I can see you there.”
JC smiled at the taunting message Clare had left him. Returning her call, he found the cell was on, but she didn’t pick up. The party had been moved to another location. He gave her the address. “There’ll be a VIP pass for you. If you can’t get in, call my cell. I promise, I’ll have it on.”
JC craned his neck, watching for Clare’s arrival. He flashed back to the second time he had seen her. He was waiting and watching at a club. She’d drawn every male eye in the place. She had gotten away from him that night. She would not be getting away from him tonight.
Then she arrived. Dressed in a coral sarong-like sheath, she looked cool and beautiful. Her dark honey hair had been swept over one shoulder, leaving the other one bare and tempting. For a moment, JC merely watched her move through the throng, capturing appreciative male gazes. The same feeling he always had when he knew Clare was only his revisited him: pride. Men wanted her and only he had her. Except now he was less sure he really had her. When he saw Lance approach her, he made his move.
“I’m looking for JC,” Clare told Lance.
How many times had Lance heard that one? “Are you sure?” The blonde man’s jade eyes twinkled.
“Even if she isn’t, I am.” JC appeared over Clare’s shoulder with a ‘no poaching’ look on his face.
“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Lance stated good-naturedly. He saluted the couple with his glass before moving away.
“Hmm…I feel suspiciously like prey here,” Clare remarked as she leaned back into him.
JC bit back a groan of pain and put his hands on her waist. “Only this lion gets this gazelle.”
“Guess it’s better than being called a goat,” she mused.
He nuzzled her shoulder. “Hey, Clare.”
“Hey, JC.” She rubbed the side of her head against his jaw like a cat begging for strokes. “I was stupid,” she stated baldly.
“You were hurting.”
“I didn’t need to punish you for it.”
“Just tell me we can try again, honey.”
“That’s why am here. To see how well I fit in your world.”
“You so fit.” He rubbed his lips along the side of her neck.
“We don’t know that.”
JC turned her to face him, ready to meet every argument with one of his own.
“Oh, your poor face!” She delicately touched his sunburned cheek.
“You oughta see the places that hurt worse.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “I put on sunblock when I went out, then I totally forgot. When I fell asleep…” He shrugged. “Don’t suppose you have any of that stuff with you…”
“I certainly do!”
“Can I convince you to help me out?”
“Where is your hotel?” She smiled when he told her. “All I have to do is go to my room and get it for you.”
“We’re at the same hotel?”
“Uh-huh.”
He grinned. “Works for me. Don’t suppose you’d move in with me.”
“You suppose correctly.”
“Clar-aire,” he nearly whined.
“Jay-cee-eee.” She imitated him. “I did not come here for nookie. And by the looks of you, I’d say that should be the last thing on your mind.”
“By the look of you, it’s one of the first things on my mind – and other parts of my anatomy,” he grumbled. “It’s been nearly a month…” She giggled at his thwarted little-boy pout. “Kiss me, honey girl,” he said huskily.
Rising on her toes, Clare pressed a soft kiss on his mouth. “Tastes like more.”
Clare shook her head. “Not in public. Not with the world watching.”
“Maybe a little later? After you aloe my body?”
“Maybe.”
For a moment, JC just held her close, grateful for a second chance.
“What does a girl have to do to get a drink around her?” Clare pulled away reluctantly.
“Umm…ask?” He led her toward the bar. “What’ll you have Coke, water with lemon – or is my feather-weight gonna try something with alcohol content?”
“I thought a glass of champagne might be warranted.”
“A whole magnum of Cristal is warranted, Clare. But you’d pass out and I’d be worthless.” Ordering two glasses of Cristal, JC proposed a toast. “To second chances.”
“To second chances,” she agreed.
JC sent his bodyguard Tiny with Clare to collect her sunburn cure. He stretched out on his bed on his stomach, glad to be out of clothes. He was pleasantly buzzed and content despite the fact that his flesh was on fire. Clare…Clare had come to him. She hadn’t let pain or pride stand in the way of their love. That was so awesome…beyond words…
A timid knock announced Clare.
“C’mon in, honey girl!” he called.
“Oh, JC! How awful!” she declared when she saw his back.
“Clare—“
“Can we get someone to a pharmacy?”
“Uh…Tiny can.”
“Call him.”
“Just as I suspected,” Clare said, reading the thermometer she had taken from JC’s lips. You have a temperature.”
Following that, she insisted he sit in a cooling bath. Even he had to admit it felt pretty good. She sat next to the tub, pouring cool water over places that weren’t submerged.
“Some reunion,” JC grunted. “Instead of burning up the sheets, you’re bathing me like a baby.”
“You need a keeper, Chasez.”
“You applying for the job?”
She snorted. “Bet it doesn’t pay much.”
“But it’ll have killer bennies.”
After his bath, Clare fed JC analgesics and coated him with aloe, lidocaine and menthol mixture. It was nice to be so fussed over by Clare. She’d make a good Mom…
“Go to sleep, baby,” Clare urge gently then rose from the bed.
JC snagged her hand. “Stay, Clare.”
She bit her lip in indecision. Still in her dress, she sank on the mattress and laid a few feet from him.
“I’ll sleep better, knowing you’re here.”
Several times in the night, JC woke in pain. Clare urged him to drink water, gave him more pain releiver and applied more ointment. The last time was early in the morning, he’d been restless and Clare knew he was due for some more soothing aloe. It was only moments later when he woke.
“Damn!” was all he said as he sat up, feeling on fire.
She grabbed the tube of the aloe mixture and moved behind him. She smoothed the cooling ointment on his abused skin.
“You’re not getting any sleep, honey,” he muttered.
“I’m okay, Jace. Don’t worry about it.”
“You’re being wonderful about this…”
“I am taking care of you like you’ve taken care of me any number of times.”
“Yeah, but—“
“Be a receiver this once, darling,” Clare told him. She moved to apply relief to his chest and arms.
“There is something you can do for me…”
“What?”
He tipped her chin up. “Kiss me. Really kiss me,” he commanded thickly.
“JC—“
“Nothing more. Nothing less. My dick and my ass are about the only places on me that aren’t this lovely, painful shade of red. Unless you can think of a way of making love that involves those areas only, I’m outa luck.”
Her eyes twinkled merrily. “Actually I can.”
JC groaned, feeling his manhood stiffen. “Dammit, Clare!”
Touching only his mouth, she kissed him, lingering to thoroughly taste and be tasted. He grabbed her upper arms to drag her closer. He bit back a hiss of pain as she toppled against him. It was worth it to have Clare in his arms. He ravaged her mouth hungrily as he pressed her down on the mattress. “Clare…Clare…” he murmured against her neck. “I love you so much, babe…I thought I’d lost you…”
Gingerly, she extracted herself from beneath him. Wrapping firm fingers around his now engorged sex, she stroked him.
“Ahh…I didn’t expect…” He cut off on a sigh of pleasure. “Talented…such a beautiful, talented hand.” He allowed himself only a moment to wallow in pleasure before he pulled her hand from him. “As fantastic as this feels, I don’t want our first time together to be you giving me a hand job – and before you offer something equally wonderful – no.”
“JC, I—“
“No, you’ve been so great about this. No guy’s ever had more tender loving care. I’m not going to repay you by taking even more.”
“Get over this sunburn fast, okay?”
“I’ve got every reason to, Clare.”