Sucking in lungfuls of oxygen, he braced his feet slightly apart and lifted a hand to rap on the door. He was about to knock again when the door flew open and Grace stood there, staring up at him. She was dressed in some floor-length white satin nightgown with a matching robe. With her blond hair and full face of makeup, she looked for all the world like a Marilyn Monroe wannabe. Stick one of those long black cigarette holders in her hand and she could have been a twenties starlet.

“Hey, girls,” she called back over her shoulder, “it’s a dick. Should we take a vote on whether or not to let him in?”

Something told him she wasn’t calling him a dick because he was an ace detective, but considering audacious was one of Grace’s regular settings, Gage didn’t waste time trying to decipher her comment.

A second later, Ronnie appeared a few feet behind her-still fully dressed in the skirt and blouse she’d worn to work, thank goodness.

Gage breathed a silent sigh of relief at the sight of her. Of the three of them, she hated him least at the moment and was probably his best shot at acting as a voice of reason with the other two.

But instead of smiling and telling Grace to let him in, Ronnie’s eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I think we should let Jenna decide,” she said in a voice that swept over him like a blast from the deep freeze.

Uh-oh. This might not be as easy he’d hoped.

A second after that, Jenna walked into view. She was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans with pink appliqué butterflies running down one leg and a white, scoop-neck top with a butterfly high toward one shoulder. And the boa around her neck of course matched every shade of pink and white in the outfit, bringing it all together in Jenna’s own unique style.

A fist clutched his insides as he took in every detail, from her ruffled black hair to the painted pink toenails peeking out through the open toes of her wedge sandals.

She looked good… but she looked sad, and he vowed to do everything in his power to wipe the pain from her face.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, meeting Jenna’s gaze and speaking past the other two women who stood between them.

A heavy silence followed his words. He waited for her reply, but the longer she took, the more blood pounded through his veins.

Finally, Grace pushed away from the door and headed for the kitchen. “Since it doesn’t look like you’ll be leaving, can I get you a drink?”

He heard ice cubes falling into a glass and dragged his attention away from Jenna long enough to watch Grace stroll back toward him, drink in hand. She offered him the tall, clear glass of light brown liquid, and he nearly reached for it. God knew his mouth was as dry as the Gobi Desert.

At the last minute, though, he stopped himself, curling his fingers into his palm. “No. Thanks,” he told her slowly.

Lifting his eyes to meet hers, he saw a sparkle of amusement there and one corner of his mouth curved in response. “I learned my lesson last time. I’ll get my own beverages from now on.”

“Smart man.” She returned his amused half-smile with one of her own, then raised the glass in mock salute. “You might want to pass that tip along to Zack, by the way, because if I ever get the opportunity to slip anything into his drink, it won’t be a few harmless sleeping pills.”

That came a little too close to a threat on someone’s life for Gage’s cop sensibilities, but he wasn’t here to referee a lovers’ dispute; he had enough problems of his own along those lines.

Turning back to the matter at hand, he fixed his gaze once again on Jenna. He didn’t care if he sounded weak or ridiculous, he needed her to talk to him, to listen to him.

“Please,” he implored, tucking his thumbs self-consciously into two front belt loops. “Just for a minute.”

She exchanged glances with her two friends, but gave a stiff nod and started toward the doorway. Stepping into the hall, he shut the door on Grace and Ronnie to afford them a bit of privacy.

His breath hitched and the heart inside his chest literally ached, it was beating so fast and so hard against his ribcage.

Jenna, who had moved closer to the opposite wall to put some distance between them, didn’t seem to be having such problems. She was practically glaring at him, arms still crossed staunchly beneath her breasts and her lips pressed into a flat, humorless line.

“What do you want, Gage?” she asked in a tired voice.

He’d done that to her. Put the sorrow in her eyes and the slope of defeat to her shoulders.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he said, “I’m just going to jump in here, because I’ve wasted enough time already.”

Deep breath. A lick to dry lips while he tried to get his thoughts in order.

“I messed up, Jenna. You were right about everything, and I was too damn thick-headed to see it.”

She didn’t respond, simply stood there watching him, waiting for him to finish-or get to the point, whichever came first. To keep from grabbing her and pulling her in for a long kiss that might help to absolve him of his sins, he shoved his fingers into his pockets.

“I was a fool, Jenna. I was afraid of losing you to some of the things I’ve seen out on the street. So afraid that instead of holding you close and appreciating every minute we had together, I let it scare me into letting you go and letting our marriage collapse because of it.”

He thought he saw a flash of interest in her eyes and prayed he was on the right track, prayed he could convince her to take him back.

“I was wrong. Wrong and stupid and foolish, and every other word you can think of that spells I-D-I-O-T,” he admitted with a sorry shake of his head. “It took me a while-too damn long, I know-to realize that I can’t control what might happen. In the words of a man smarter than I apparently am, any one of us could walk outside and get hit by a bus tomorrow. It wouldn’t have a damn thing to do with our jobs or lifestyles or what kind of people we are.”

Dropping his head, he studied the black of his boots against the nondescript beige of the industrial hallway carpeting for a second, then took a deep breath, met her gaze again, and barreled on.

“I hate the thought of going through the rest of my life without you. Without ever knowing a minute of happiness because you aren’t there. I don’t want to live without you or without the children we’ll have together. I can’t tell you I won’t still worry-or have moments of sheer panic, frankly,” he added with a crooked, self-deprecating smile, “but I don’t want what I’ve seen as a cop to steal our future. Not for one more minute.”

Holding himself rigid, he waited for her reaction, waited to find out if his revelation had come too late to win her back.

And, dammit, he couldn’t tell. Her face remained impassive, her eyes narrowed with skepticism, but not giving anything away.

This was not going as well as he’d hoped, he thought with a mental cringe. On the way over, he’d envisioned the reaction his speech would receive. He’d tell Jenna he loved her and wanted her back, wanted a happy marriage and children with her, after all. And she would be so delighted and overwhelmed that she would give a little shriek of joy, throw her arms around his neck, and kiss him silly.

Clearly he’d made an error in his calculations.

The seconds ticked by in his head like the echo of a gong, and then it hit him: He hadn’t told her he loved her!

Shit. Mental head slap.

He’d been so focused on letting her know he’d come to his senses and wasn’t going to let fears about the future keep them apart any longer that he’d forgotten the most important part.

“I love you,” he blurted out.

Her eyes widened slightly at that, but if it was due to the declaration itself or the force with which he made it, he couldn’t be sure.