“That’s not an answer. Now who’s holding back?”
Gil shrugged. “I don’t know. I just figured it couldn’t hurt to get him talking. He looked kind of lost, like he was scared to death and trying not to show it.”
“He’s had a tough life. He’s learned that change isn’t always good. So thanks.”
Gil considered. “So what you’re really saying is that you should be buying lunch for me instead of vice versa.”
Jillian’s lips twitched. “Maybe I should,” she said. “Maybe I should.”
Chapter Eight
The lunch buzz carried them through the rest of the afternoon, but eventually Jillian went into an end-of-day staff meeting and the doors shut in Gil’s face. He tried to bear it with good grace—after all, they had let him sit in on the opening marketing discussion and he got to watch an animated Jillian talk about ways to reach birth mothers, one of the clinic’s key groups to help. Eventually, though, the doors closed.
There was nothing more frustrating for a journalist than to be shut out of the action. Okay, so they were talking specifics. Just because he could understand it didn’t make it any less annoying to get booted out.
It only took a few minutes of sitting in the break room for him to be certain that the lobby was a better option. He’d asked Jillian about using her office but she’d hesitated just long enough to make it clear she was uneasy at the prospect. It wasn’t worth it, not with the fragile bond that was forming between them.
Even if it had meant that he could have spent a happy hour surrounded by her scent while he worked.
Finally, he chose the lobby. Sue, the receptionist was gone, the day nearly over, so he could expect to find both comfortable chairs and quiet.
At least, at first. When the bell sounded on the door, he glanced over to see a young woman walk into the clinic, her long, red hair hanging loose around her shoulders.
“Oh.” She stopped before the empty receptionist’s desk and looked blankly around at him. “Where is she?”
“I think there’s a staff meeting,” he said. “Give it about fifteen minutes and someone should be out.”
The girl nodded and sat. Tension vibrated off her. She picked up a magazine and leafed through a few pages, then set it back down. Stepped across the room to pick up a different one and set it down, too. Restless, Gil diagnosed, watching her circle around, glancing at the pictures on the walls. Families and children, playing together, living together.
Women in the delivery room, cradling their infants.
Rubbing her stomach, she turned abruptly away and walked to the closed door that led to the back, peering into the frosted window above the doorknob. “What’s taking them so long?” she asked, a thread of desperation in her voice.
Not his business, Gil reminded himself, but he couldn’t stop watching her. She paced some more, walking to the front door and then turning back. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her touch her face, once, then twice.
And then he realized she was crying.
Oh, hell, he thought, women and tears, his worst nightmare. And yet even though it gave him the willies, even though he knew he shouldn’t get involved, he couldn’t help himself. “Hey.” He kept his voice soft. “What’s going on?”
“Where are they?” Impatience, urgency and, under it all, a hint of anxiety.
“They’ll be back soon.”
“But I can’t stay. I have to get back.” And she was afraid, deathly afraid, to judge by the way her hands were shaking.
“Wait here. I’ll get someone.” He spoke before he knew he was going to.
“No. I really don’t have a lot of time.” She was two steps from bolting, he realized.
“Trust me.” In her eyes he saw the fear, the desperation. “They’re good people here. Whatever the problem is, they’ll help you. Look, give me a couple of minutes to find someone. I’ll be right back. Just stay, promise?”
Slowly, her gaze never leaving his, she nodded.
Back in the clinic, the conference-room door was still shut. Gil didn’t give a damn. He walked up, gave a sharp rap and opened it. A dozen faces turned to him inquiringly.
“I need Jillian,” he said abruptly.
She wasn’t pleased. “This is a closed meeting.” He could hear the impatience in her voice.
“You’ve got someone out front you need to talk to.”
It could have been his tone or his gaze, but something got through to her. She was up and out the door in a flash. “What is it?” she asked as she passed him at the threshold.
“A young girl, maybe eighteen. She looks pretty upset. I figured you were a good place to start, assuming she hasn’t bolted.”
She hadn’t. She was close—on her feet and pacing near the front door, but she was still there.
He walked up, Jillian in tow. “See, I told you I’d be back,” he said to the girl. “She’ll help you.”
Jillian put out her hand. “I’m Jillian Logan, the social worker at the clinic.”
The girl didn’t quite manage a smile. “I’m Alison.”
“Nice to meet you, Alison. Would you like to go back to my office? It’s a more comfortable place to talk.”
It was amazing to watch Jillian in action. There was something about the way she focused on people, Gil thought as he followed inside, stopping himself at the little anteroom outside her office. It was as though the people she was trying to help were the only ones who existed for her in that place and time. She listened with her whole body, her whole being.
He suddenly, fiercely found himself wanting her to look at him that way. Not because he was a client but because he was a man.
Her man.
“So what’s going on, Alison?” Jillian asked softly.
“I’m pregnant,” Alison blurted, and buried her face in her hands. For long moments, she just wept, as though she’d held it all in and now it was safe to let herself feel the fear and anxiety.
Jillian waited her out, knowing what it had cost the girl to come. And feeling stupidly grateful to Gil for figuring it out. It was one thing to talk baseball with Pedro. It was another for him to clearly break with his journalistic training and intercede.
Finally, Alison started talking through her tears. “I’m at the university on scholarship,” she said. “I just finished my freshman year.”
“What’s your major?”
“Education. I want to teach. I’ve always wanted to teach. It’s just that it was after finals and I was at this party. And things went south with my boyfriend back at Christmas, so I haven’t been with anyone in forever. I met this really cute guy and we wound up going back to my room, just fooling around. And it was so dumb. I can’t believe I did it. But it was just so hot and I don’t usually drink and you know what it’s like when you’re with someone when it’s just rocking your world.” The words tumbled out. “I just thought this once it’d be okay. I couldn’t possibly get pregnant just this once. Except that I did.” She began to cry again.
“What do you want to do?”
“I can’t tell my parents. They’ll be appalled. And we don’t have any money, anyway. I can only afford to be here because of scholarships and loans. All that would be over. And I can’t raise a baby.” Her voice rose in fear. “I’m still a kid, myself. I can’t do this. I want kids someday, but now?”
Clearly, the idea terrified her.
“What does the father say?”
She shook her head. “He’s premed. Totally freaked out at the idea of a baby. He told me it was my problem.” Her voice was bitter.
“You have choices.” Jillian’s voice was gentle. “You can have the baby and keep it. You can terminate, though we’d have to refer you on that one. Or you could put it up for adoption.”
This prompted fresh tears. “But then I’d never know where she was or how she was or who had her.”
“That’s not necessarily the case. Adoptions are much more open now. A lot of times there’s contact between the birth parent
s and the child—anything from a letter once a year to visits. And you’d screen prospective parents, really find out who they are and whether they’re the kind of people you want raising your child. You’ve got choices, Alison. We can help you with all of them. And you don’t have to decide right away.”
“I do have to decide. It’s already been a month since I was sure. It’s just…It’s all so overwhelming.”
“It’s a challenging spot but we’re here to help you any way we can. You’re not alone anymore. In fact…”
“What?”
“Well, I know someone who was in your shoes. Worse, really. She was living on the streets at the time. Now, she’s got a college degree and a career and she just got married. You see? Pregnancy isn’t the end, it’s just the beginning.”
“She got a degree? Really?”
Jillian nodded. “Would it help to talk with her? Not to decide anything, just to talk to someone who’s been in your shoes?”
Alison looked at her gratefully. “Do you think she’d do that?”
“I know she would. She just got back from her honeymoon a couple of days ago, but let me call her and see when she could get together with you. In the meantime—” Jillian rose and turned to her desk “—we should get you in to see a doctor to make sure everything is all right. You can take these brochures. One’s on prenatal care. The number’s there to call for an appointment. And these two give you more information on adoption.” Jillian dug into one of her desk drawers and brought out some sample packs of pills. “Here, take these.”
“What are they?” Alison turned them to look at the front and the back.
“Vitamins. The baby has a lot of important development going on right now. It’s a good idea to follow the vitamin regimen, no matter what you think you might decide. You’ve got a baby now and you need to care for it properly.”
“I’m already taking vitamins,” Alison said shyly. “I looked up some information online.”
The smile spread over Jillian’s face. “You’re going to be all right, Alison. One way or another, you’ll figure it out. And we’re here to help.” Jillian handed her a card. “This has all my contact numbers. I’m always on call. If you have questions, if you’re upset, if you just need to talk with someone, pick up the phone. I’m here.”
Alison clutched the card as if it were a lifeline. “I don’t have any money,” she said.
“It doesn’t matter,” Jillian says. “I don’t care about that. I care about you.”
Alison looked at her for a moment in wonder. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
“Depend on it,” Jillian said. And breaking one of her rules, she gave the girl a hug. Alison held on fiercely, then released, wiping away more tears. Jillian stood back and studied her, her hands on the girl’s shoulders. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Come on, then.”
Jillian walked Alison out through the now-empty offices to the lobby and let her out. It was going to be all right, she thought. They’d help Alison so that she could find her answers.
It was strange, Jillian thought as she stood outside the clinic and watched Alison walk down the sidewalk. The girl was so young, inexperienced, and yet she was comfortable in a world of male and female relationships that Jillian knew nothing of. She could talk casually of things that were mysteries for Jillian.
You know what it’s like….
Except that she didn’t, Jillian thought. She was fifteen years older than Alison and she hadn’t a clue.
Jillian walked back into the clinic. There was no reason to feel inadequate because she was a virgin. It was silly to feel that she was less of a woman. She couldn’t help it, though. Somehow, she always felt incomplete, closed down, set apart from the rest of the world.
As she turned down toward her office, she stopped. In the waiting area, Gil sat, laptop on his knees, tapping busily at his keyboard. She’d been out of her mind when she’d decided he wasn’t handsome, Jillian thought, staring at that wide, straight mouth, at the dark slash of his eyes. There was more to him than looks, though. In the beginning, she’d thought him clever and funny, generous, if a bit careless. Later, she’d hated him for what he’d done at the paper. Now, she was beginning to wonder if she’d misjudged him in more than looks.
Without warning, he glanced up. The visual contact snapped through her like a physical touch. For a moment, she didn’t move, couldn’t. For a moment, she just looked.
“Everything okay?” Gil asked, watching her.
Jillian stepped forward, exaggeratedly aware of her every movement. “I think so. I gave her some information. She mostly needed someone to talk with.”
“Pregnant, right?”
“You know I can’t tell you that.”
“It wasn’t hard to figure out.” He followed her into her office. “That’s why I came and got you.”
“You did the right thing.” She turned to him, found him closer than she’d realized. “I owe you an apology for snapping at you when you came into the meeting,” she said, resisting the urge to step back. “I should have realized you wouldn’t have done it if it weren’t for good reason.”
“Hey, we journalists have a rep for being pushy.”
“It made all the difference. She could have walked away; now she’s got information, an idea about options. And that’s all because of you.”
He grinned. “Maybe you should bring me on as your assistant.”
“Maybe I should. You surprised me today. No,” she corrected herself, “that came out wrong. I just…I guess, I didn’t expect you to get involved. I thought journalists were supposed to keep their distance.”
He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Maybe I don’t want to keep my distance.”
Jillian swallowed. “I’m talking about work.”
“I’m not,” he said softly.
The breath backed up in her lungs. He was too close, Jillian thought in alarm as he settled his hands on her upper arms. He was too close and there wasn’t enough air. “Why me?” she asked, a thread of desperation shivering in her voice.
“Oh, maybe because you’re gorgeous.” He traced his fingertip down her nose. “Smart.” The finger continued along the groove of her upper lip. “Funny.” He traced the outline of her lips, leaning closer. “Caring.” He curved his fingers around the back of her neck to draw her closer. “And incredibly sexy.”
Something began to coil in her, a heat, a tension.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Gil murmured, so close she could feel him form the words. “I dream about you at night. I wake up wanting you.”
His eyes on hers never wavered. There were gold flecks around the edges of his pupils, Jillian realized, like little sparks of fire. Helplessly, she stared up at him, her lips parting.
And then his mouth was on hers.
It wasn’t like their first kiss. This was no tender exploration, no soft experiment. He took it hard and fast and deep. And as though she’d stepped into a rushing river, she was in over her head, swept away.
Arousal flowed over her, liquid and hot. Always in the past, she’d been able to keep herself separate from the embrace, keep control. Now, control was the last thing she thought of. Heat billowed through her, spiked with desire. It was taste, it was touch, it was texture. In the onslaught of sensation, they all blurred together into one overwhelming mixture that she couldn’t possibly resist.
It was like walking through a fun house, each room more impossibly filled with sensations and surprises than the last. Just as she thought she’d discovered all a kiss could bring her, there was more, until she was half gasping, half laughing with it.
And then the hunger took over. Suddenly, just accepting what he gave her wasn’t enough. Suddenly, she was impatient for more. And without really even understanding herself, she took.
It was too much; Gil knew from the beginning that it was too much. Too fast, too hard, too desperate. Too urgent. His kiss hel
d all the suppressed wanting of the past days, the days she’d been off-limits, out of reach. But now she was feverish and urgent in his arms and he couldn’t stop himself from tasting. He couldn’t stop himself from taking. And he couldn’t stop himself from needing.
He felt the change in her, like dry tinder gone to flame. Her mouth was hot and eager and demanding against his. She twisted closer as though she were trying to press their two sets of molecules into one. It drove him nuts, feeling her soft, springy curves, smelling that intoxicating scent that hovered just above her skin. He wanted to touch her, he wanted to know her.
He wanted her naked.
Feverishly, he ran his hands down her back, molding her curves until he could feel himself stirring against her, getting hard.
For an instant, she went absolutely still.
And then Jillian was pulling herself away, dragging her hands through her hair. “I must be out of my mind,” she muttered.
Gil was breathing as though he’d just run the hundred-yard dash. All he wanted to do was pull her back to him. But the game was up for now.
And if he had a couple of hours and a lot of cold water, maybe he could convince his body of that.
It would take some convincing, that was for sure. He’d been with a lot of women over the years and no one had ever taken him so far with just a kiss. And now she was pacing away, leaving him standing there.
“Want to tell me what’s going on inside that head of yours?” he asked, watching her.
“That I’m too old to be taking stupid chances, for one. We’re in my office. Anyone could have walked in.”
“It’s after working hours.”
“Thank God for small favors,” she said. “You—” she pointed at him as he moved toward her “—keep your distance. We’re supposed to be acting like professionals.”
“Looks like we both fell off the wagon. Maybe we should take it off-line.”
“No.”
“Oh, come on, Jillian. You’re not really going to try to pretend you didn’t like it, are you?”
She hesitated. “No, I’m not. But it doesn’t matter.”
Always A Bridesmaid (Logan's Legacy Revisited) Page 10