The Monkey Jungle (The Bennt, Montana Series) Page 6

  What he didn’t know was, which question was she going to ask him? There were two in the equation facing them. She had said out loud something they both had recognized instantly. Admitted it, brought it into the open. A bold move. A brave move. One which took an immense amount of courage. And the way she’d presented it had gained his undivided attention. She certainly understood men. Garth was completely focused on her when she spoke again, her voice low.

  “It doesn’t work for me without feelings for the one I’m with,” she took a drink of her coffee, staring at some point over his head before meeting his eyes in the dim light. “There is a difference, and don’t even try to tell me you don’t know what I mean. I can see it in you. That’s why you didn’t sleep with your beard lady. That’s why I don’t sleep around. And probably why you don’t anymore.”

  She grinned wryly. “Although I’m sure you’ve been tossing two-ply Kleenex in the wind all over the world for years, to mop up the trail of tears you left behind. All that aside, we’ve both learned sex for the sake of sex, just to screw, to relieve an urge, it doesn’t—isn’t satisfying, isn’t enough. So I’ve gone without. For a long time. Then I see you, standing in my living room almost naked.” Her brows pulled into a contemplative frown. “Since then, I can’t eat, I’m not sleeping well. I can’t even catch a fish because I’m not paying attention. And, frankly, I’m a bit perturbed that you’re sleeping when I can’t because I’m so damned frustrated I want to scream.”

  “Please don’t wake the kids,” Garth shifted, leaning on his elbow. He’d give anything to grab her and drag her down onto the couch with him. “You know what they’re like.” He chuckled, his amusement fading when he noticed the coffee mug on the end table next to the couch.

  “Yours. You’re military,” she explained her thoughtfulness away. “It’s six-thirty. I figured you’d be up soon.”

  “Are you ill?” he asked abruptly, reaching for the coffee, his erection painful.

  “Me? Sick?” She appeared completely taken aback, cocking her head. “Why? Are you worried after trying my waffle I’ll die before you can steal the recipe? Better people than you have tried, believe me.”

  “If you’d have said after trying my waffle a little differently we could have some interesting debates.” He earned himself an amused smile as relief coursed through him. She hadn’t said she wasn’t ill, but her surprise had.

  “Naughty man,” Mary Kathryn relaxed deeper in her favorite chair.

  “Perverted, remember?” he said lightly taking a drink of the coffee.

  Mary Kathryn arched a brow at the jab. “I still have a gun. Rehashing past offenses isn’t playing fair, but it’s loaded, so go ahead, get your knocks in me before you cook me breakfast.”

  “I get to cook you breakfast?”

  “You’re sleeping on my couch, Garth. If I can’t have sex with you I might as well get something out of it.”

  The way she said his name brought smoky sheets and heated flesh to mind. And she wisely didn’t ask the questions hanging between them. Did they ignore the awareness, go their separate ways in a month and wonder through the years to come? Or did they explore it, and see where it could lead?

  “There is a certain romanticism in the ones who got away,” he said finally, breaking the companionable silence, contemplating them, and thinking about his life.

  “And what is that?” She didn’t pretend not to understand he was referring to potential love interests who moved on before they had a chance to explore what might have been.

  “We don’t know if they snore,” he smiled. “So we still have illusions.”

  “But, we don’t know if they do,” she countered smoothly. “So we still have illusions.”

  They remained silent for a few minutes, the comforting hum of the refrigerator, the tick of the clock hanging above the stairwell the only sounds. “I loved my husband,” she mused quietly. “It took me a long time to get over his death. But that was another life. It seems so long ago. So very long ago.”

  “And I loved my ex-wife, but like you, another life.” Garth wanted her to know he had. It suddenly seemed important she knew he was capable of that finer emotion, although dragging such words out of him would take a miracle.

  “That’s good, I presume. Because you say it as if it were an epiphany when you discovered you had.”

  “I was a selfish cheating bastard,” he admitted candidly, holding her widened gaze at his admission. “It took me years to admit it to myself. I was unfaithful, neglectful. I wanted her and other women. I wanted it all. It never occurred to me she wouldn’t stay. I cheated on her and couldn’t understand why she didn’t think like I did—that she couldn’t understand those other women meant nothing.”

  “But you loved her.” She seemed to understand.

  “It was a long time ago,” he responded with painful honesty. He had destroyed his marriage. To young, too immature by far. “I finally grew up.” He’d never had this conversation with anyone before. His past loves had accused him of being emotionally unavailable, detached. But this woman—he glanced at her, trying to be honest with himself and with her and surprising himself in the acknowledgment she felt—safe... Safe as in, she wasn’t judging him, she was just listening. Truly listening to him.

  “I didn’t know it until I lost her,” he finally said. “I was twenty-two when we were married. Divorced within six years. I was an immature idiot. Angry with her for years. Bitter. I blamed her. She blamed herself too, even though it wasn’t really her fault. It was mine. We were simply too young. She couldn’t deal with the infidelity, didn’t know how. I didn’t respect our marriage, for what that is worth. Now, we’re—” he searched for the words, “friends. Wary friends with regrets.”

  “I loved my husband as a teenage girl would.” Mary Kathryn understood. “We were fresh and innocent. The world was our playground.” she smiled ruefully. “I can think of him now as my best friend in high school who is gone, but it took a long time to get there. A very long time.”

  “How did he die?”

  “A car crash. He was a speeder.” she grimaced. “He used to tell me he loved his gas pedal more than my waffle. I’d get so pissed...” She smiled ruefully. “Then I was pissed because he never had a chance to grow up with me—to see Henry grow up. Henry was five when his father died.” Mary Kathryn looked at him over the rim of her cup. “You and your ex manage a civil relationship, despite the regrets?”

  “She told me years ago that I’d grown up nicely—finally.” Garth admitted candidly. “It wasn’t until a few years later, I realized that if I loved once, at least I had the capacity to do it again.”

  “Then why haven’t you?”

  She knew. This was no self-absorbed female, she read the truth about him. Since his marriage he’d never truly loved another woman. He’d drifted into relationships, woke up from one night stands with girlfriends and let the relationships run their course for whatever reasons. Never once had he asked a woman to come with him when he had been transferred from one base to another. Garth drank coffee, contemplating her. “I could tell you what I told Alison last night and it would only be partially true,” he tried to answer. “That I was constantly on the move, moving. Never home, all those practical reasons a man gives himself—people give themselves.”

  “But?”

  He considered her for a long moment, his expression enigmatic “Ask me the question you came down here wondering and I might tell you, or try, even if I botch it.”

  She remained silent, finally asking somewhat nonchalantly, “Do you want to go fishing with me one of these days?”

  She surprised him again. He wanted to kiss her for the wisdom in the invitation, to drape that lusciously thick hair over her breasts and move it with his tongue. She’d given them something to think about and they would both go away contemplating the possibilities, somewhat of a milestone, what her odd approach had accomplished. They could talk to each other, be acutely aware of one another, have the unex
pected attraction that had apparently broadsided both of them be acknowledged just for what it was. A physical attraction which might go somewhere if they wanted, or it might not. But they both had to know what they wanted...and want the same thing.

  What else had she intended to achieve shocking him? To see if he were capable of being honest with her? It was a risky game she played. The man in him twenty years ago would have used it against her. The man he was now admired her boldness, was intrigued and appreciated her frank approach. He was amazed at the outrageously brazen way she had captivated his attention. “I don’t have a Montana fishing license.”

  “Easy enough to get one. As you well know.” She waved a negligent hand. “Any sporting goods store. What are you cooking me for breakfast?”

  Garth grinned. “Leftover spaghetti.” It seemed their discussion was over.

  “Lazy bum.” She laughed softly.

  “My being a lazy bum is a problem for you because it’s a problem for me.” He met her eyes, noting her surprise as she absorbed his words. She hadn’t asked where their attraction was heading. He’d just told her. It was that simple. A bold move, one that matched hers.

  “Then you’d better figure it out or adjust to lazing around.” When she finally spoke, her eyelids lowered, concealing whatever he might have read as she said easily, “I’m not the kind of woman who tells men what they should do, or be doing—I said men, not Henry, he’s mine to lament—as far as your retirement, I like brainstorming ideas, but I’m not a counselor. Frankly, I’m to lazy to figure out your life for you. It’s not my job. I don’t have to, I don’t want too. I don’t need you. I want you.”

  She didn’t need him. He knew it. She was independent, self confident. Mary Kathryn knew her own worth and valued it, protected it. The hunter in Garth eyed his prey with warming appreciation. Keen predatory instincts were alert and watchful. She knew he didn’t need her either. He contemplated her words. This was a stalking situation. Slow and careful if he wanted her. And he did, even though she had just told him she couldn’t sleep with him without being emotionally involved. He wanted her to need him beyond the physical attraction, beyond the monetary. Garth instinctively recognized her latent sensuality and something in him had responded to it beyond rhyme or reason the moment he’d set eyes on her. Mary Kathryn wasn’t going to play feminine wile games to get what she wanted. She’d presented herself to him as she was. Now it was up to him. He’d thrown the bait out, would she bite? More aptly, he told himself, when would she bite. “Did you really go down to the sheriff’s department and commission their sketch artist to draw a picture of me?”

  She laughed as she tucked her feet up under her legs. “Wouldn’t you like to know? Whether it was true or not, Henry’s reaction was worth it.”

  “Why torment your own son?” His expression voiced his disapproval.

  “Your daughter too,” Mary Kathryn’s face remained calm. Her explanation was detached, uncaring of what he thought and she conveyed her feelings without a challenge. “They haven’t touched a thing in this house since the day they arrived. I’ve been gritting my teeth picking up mess after mess for my own sanity. I should have known Monday something was up because before I went out they were both doing some frantic haphazard cleaning. You don’t know Henry very well, and I’ve discovered Alison doesn’t either. I’m not tattling. They both treated my home like it’s a frat house. Frankly, I’m disgusted with both of them for their lack of respect.”

  Garth nodded as he swung his legs over the side of the couch, grabbing his jeans with a sense of deja vu. “What will Alison learn about Henry that you’re not telling... and I know she’s lazy, but I’m here now.” He smiled easily.

  “It’s not in me to allow Henry to turn me into a nag. I refuse to go there,” Mary Kathryn told him. She could watch him smile forever. “Henry’s real persona is so stuffed up it’s bound to blow any day. If it doesn’t, I’m going to out him.” Mary Kathryn watched with interest as Garth pulled up his jeans, taking in the muscled thighs before they were covered. “So, when are we going fishing?”

  “Do I have to clean them?” He noticed she’d seen his aroused state, how her gaze lingered on it for a moment. Her eyes seemed to change, to darken. His fingers itched to touch her. His gaze traveled to her lips.

  “One doesn’t clean Catch and Release,” she said cheekily.

  “We’re not turning them loose if they’re legal,” he protested, his masculine indignation causing her to laugh.

  “Then it’s settled,” her satisfaction was evident. “You get to clean them.”

  It had been a set-up. She was a fish cleaning grifter. A clever man manipulator. He liked her more for it. Garth muttered under his breath with good humor. Women and cleaning fish didn’t usually go hand in hand. Mary Kathryn was no different when there was a man around willing to perform the task.

  Mary Kathryn didn’t flinch, meeting his ironically raised brow with a challenging one of her own. “If we were boxing,” she observed, “that particular round would have gone to me.”

  Mary Kathryn. Fried fish grifter. He could handle that. Her name suited her, somehow she wasn’t a plain Mary. “Hoisted by my craving for fresh fish.” He shook his head slowly, his smile rueful. “And you don’t even bother to try and pretend you didn’t con me.”

  “And I got to see you in your briefs...again. I almost wish I hadn’t.” She rose and approached him, much like she had done the previous morning, but this time she reached around patted his bottom. She engaged his surprised wide eyes with a brilliant smile before she headed for the stairs, traipsing up if she hadn’t a care in the world.

  Slightly dazed, Garth stared after her, his erection bulging his jeans. She was so fine!

  “You’ll have to tell me what you do all day—since you’ve retired,” he called after her.

  “I play hide and seek with Henry.” Her enigmatic laughter faded as her bedroom door closed.

  Chapter Five

  GARTH DIDN’T BELIEVE IN love at first sight. And apparently, neither did Mary Kathryn. But both believed in lust, knew lust for exactly what it was. And liked it for what it was...delicious as her waffle in the same carnal sense. She’d admitted she lusted for him but wouldn’t act on it, because it would leave her empty, needing more.

  Garth showered and pondered the woman whose shower he was in, wanting her. Had she ever showered with a man? Of course she had. She’d been married. But from what Henry had indicated over the last few years when he talked about his mother, she was a veritable saint.

  Of course, Garth had gained the impression Mary Kathryn was thirty years older than she actually was because of Henry. And then her retiring so young? People usually didn’t leave their careers at her age and not choose another. She obviously had enough money to send Henry to college, because Henry certainly didn’t work. Nor did it seem Henry was going to look for work until he figured out what was going on with his mother.

  If what was developing between himself and Mary Kathryn came to fruition, Alison’s response to their relationship would be interesting. Especially after he’d seen Alison’s reactions to the women who had expressed mild interest in him the previous evening. Would his adult daughter freak if her father dated her boyfriend’s mother? Fiance, Garth corrected himself.

  Alison was forgotten as Mary Kathryn’s image settled in his mind. Women equated sex with love. It was a natural extension of their feelings. Mary Kathryn was no different in that respect. She’d admitted it. But sex was the basis for all relationships as far as he was concerned. If the sex was no good, the relationship floundered. Their strong physical attraction was on the table in front of them now. But they didn’t know each other and she wasn’t willing to sleep with him until she felt something more than lust between them. Well, she clearly could, but she wouldn’t for her own preservation.

  He rinsed his hair, seeing himself with Mary Kathryn in six months... There would be no going back once he set the course. Physical gratification was ea
sy. Emotional gratification was another thing entirely. He wanted it all. He’d had it once and destroyed it. He wanted it again. And he hadn’t really even know until half and hour ago.

  As Garth shaved he decided he wouldn’t have it any other way. Mary Kathryn was a woman of action. He would show her; telling her was useless. She’d probably heard it all before and knew as well as he did words were empty vessels strung together to achieve goals. He straightened his damp towel over the shower rod, ironic amusement filling him as he considered himself. Self exploration wasn’t exactly his forte. Sex was his forte. In that he was absolutely confident. But with Mary Kathryn sex wasn’t going to be enough to keep her. She wanted more. What else beside feeling something for him did she want from him? What else did she have on her agenda in regards to him?

  That was yet another thing about her which captured his imagination, trying to anticipate her moves. He made his way eagerly downstairs, looking forward to engaging her again.

  The problem was, after scuttling his brains, she scuttled... She voided being alone with him for the next five days. She became a veritable ghost, flitting in and out of the house, leaving him to be entertained by Henry and Alison. She joined them for the evening meal only when Henry called her from the upstairs, chatting easily but excusing herself the moment they finished eating.

  Garth was left on tenterhooks, anticipating her arrival in a room, eagerly looking forward to seeing her, wanting her company, enthralled with her personality, the easy way she had captured his imagination with her shocking declaration. She was either the craftiest woman he’d ever met, manipulating him, or, he knew, she had something else in mind and was simply avoiding him until whatever it was satisfied her—because after what she’d told him, there was no way he would ever walk away without at least exploring the possibility of a relationship with her.

  * * * * *

  Henry was acting even more odd since the night Garth had taken him and Alison out. Anytime Henry saw his future father-in-law’s attention perk when Mary Kathryn was near, he became nervous, watching them warily, constantly redirecting conversations to Garth’s career when Garth tried to talk to his mother. Henry insisted Garth go with him everywhere he went, even picking up Alison from work. Alison had seconded Henry’s claims she wanted to spend every second she could with her father before he left, but her declaration only came after Garth saw Henry gently elbow Alison.