Free The Heart of the Matter by Muriel Jensen Page A

to him as she responded, lifted her off the balcony floor in his embrace and finally drew his head back, obviously as shaken as she was.
    She wanted to scream, laugh, cry, run. Any one of those choices seemed appropriate, except that she couldn’t seem to move. That kiss had taken the control she’d carefully forced over a lifetime and rattled it until her teeth shook.
    “Jason!” she whispered, a pleat forming between her eyebrows. “I don’t…I can’t…oh, hell.”
    She pushed out of his arms, stared at him for a moment as though she resented him for something, then ran through the shadows to the light from the French doors and disappeared inside the hotel dining room. Jason thought that don’t, can’t, and hell were three words a man usually didn’t want to hear when he was kissing a woman. And she’d pelted him with all three. That didn’t bode well for what he was beginning to feel for Laura Price.
    He found her in the parking lot, leaning against the front fender of his Mercedes, a hand to her diaphragm as she dragged in air.
    “You know,” he said, leaning beside her against thecar, “maybe we should talk about your being faithful. You just ran away from me.”
    She gave him an apologetic side glance. “You scared me.”
    “Sorry,” he said. “I’ve been celibate a long time.”
    She gave his shoulder a healthy smack. “That’s not what I mean. I mean…we’re not going to be dealing with fluffy kid stuff here.”
    He shrugged a shoulder, then dramatically rubbed where she’d punched him. “You may be deliciously taut and firm in a leotard, but I’m not a kid. Is that what you want? Kid stuff?”
    “Of course not.” She sighed. “Maybe I’ve just never felt the power of…something that wasn’t. It’s a little daunting.”
    “It’s very daunting. That’s why it took me this long to decide that I could do it again.” He straightened away from the car. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”
    And that was how he left it—no promise to call, no suggestion that she call him if and when she was ready.
    She gave him a chaste kiss good-night in the condo’s hallway, apparently appreciating his silence, then ran up the steps and disappeared.
    He drove home curiously numb, thinking how strange his life had become. The first time he’d fallen in love, they’d both been attracted, and—he saw now—they’d both been fearless. Love had grown, thrived, borne fruit, always looked ahead.
    It was going to be harder this time. Age and experience brought caution. If there was only himself at risk, he might push this to see what happened. To show her that major league love had it all over the kid stuff-warts and all.
    He pulled into the garage and crept quietly into thekitchen-not at all surprised to find Adam sitting up, watching Leno, a turkey sandwich in hand.
    “How’d it go?” he asked, turning off the television and following him into the kitchen. “I made the coffee.”
    Jason hooked an arm around the boy’s neck and held him there while he poured a cup. It smelled brisk and strong, and somehow the homeyness of coffee warming and his firstborn beside him stabilized his emotions.
    “It went well,” he said. He traded Adam the cup for a bite of the sandwich. “We ate, I gave a brilliant speech, then we danced.”
    Adam sipped at the cup, then handed it back when Jason returned his sandwich. “And that went well?” he asked in surprise.
    Jason frowned at him. “Have faith in your old man, Adam. I was quite the charmer in my day.”
    “Yeah, but do we want to think about how long ago that was? Did you.you know.kiss her?”
    Jason walked him to his room. “We’ve talked about this. Gentlemen don’t.”
    “I know, guys don’t talk about their exploits. But you’re my dad. I’m your live-in son. I have a comfortable future at risk here if you get married again.”
    Jason laughed, lowering his voice as they passed Eric’s and Matt’s rooms. “This was only a first date, Adam.