by Sandy James
She was smiling too as they slowly separated. “Does that mean you forgive me?”
He nodded, still grinning as he put his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t grab her again.
“Then give me a call when you want to go out again.” She went to the passenger side and yanked her purse out of his car. “I should go.”
“Yeah, it’s getting late.” He pulled out his cell phone. “Can I have your number?”
She gave it to him and said, “I usually work nights, so don’t be surprised if I don’t return any calls or texts until late afternoon.”
“Got it.”
Russ followed her to her car. After she opened the door and got in the driver’s seat, he blocked the door with his body, unable to resist another quick kiss.
She was beaming when he closed the door and walked away.
* * *
Joslynn was still trembling when she pulled out of the parking lot.
How could one kiss—well, three, actually—have thrown her into such a state? Her breath was still choppy, and her core felt as though it were on fire. No man had ever been able to arouse her as quickly, and she wasn’t sure if she loved that Russ could get to her so strongly or hate that he had that kind of power over her.
She eased into traffic, trying to regain her composure.
Only one thing was for sure—she wanted to spend more time with him, to get to know him and see if the connection they’d felt had a chance to grow.
But first she needed to get rid of her boyfriend.
Chapter Four
Boyfriend” wasn’t exactly the correct term for Matthew Tomb, MD.
“Guy that I casually sleep with” fit much better.
Joslynn had first met Matthew when he’d been hired at the hospital right after his internship. She’d done a lot of his training over the year they’d known each other, and he seemed to enjoy her attention as they grew closer. Although her true motive had been to ensure there was a doctor working in her ER who wasn’t constantly asking for help with things he should be able to handle himself, she’d been a bit flattered by his obvious infatuation.
She had to admit he was cute, but not nearly as appealing as Russ. Where Russ was muscular, Matthew was svelte—built more like a distance runner instead of having Russ’s bodybuilding physique. Russ was blond; Matthew had dark brown hair. Should the men stand side by side, Russ would tower over barely-six-foot-tall Matthew.
And Matthew didn’t have that delectable dimple…
She’d agreed to a date with Matthew, and it had been an unmitigated disaster. A late-autumn tornado had rumbled through the Nashville area, and the movie theater they were at had forced all the patrons out of the theaters and into the hallways. He’d thought it was romantic when the lights went out. She’d been pissed that a really good comedy had been interrupted.
But there’d been a bit of chemistry when he’d kissed her, so after a few dates, she’d slept with him. Chemistry had been her favorite subject in high school and college. She understood it. She believed in it. And she trusted it. Why approach her love life any differently?
Joslynn had made it clear to him, as she had with the other men she’d slept with over the years, that their connection was nothing more than a “friends with benefits” arrangement. Not once had she allowed a guy to spend the night at her house; nor had she stayed at any of theirs. Sleeping equaled defenselessness, and she wasn’t about to be that vulnerable.
Her life was her own, and she’d never wanted to share it entirely with anyone. Yet in the back of her mind, she’d always wondered if the right guy might come along one day. But Mr. Right still hadn’t made an appearance, and she saw no reason to deny herself physical pleasure if there was a good friend who was willing to satisfy her and allow her to satisfy him.
She was content.
At least she had been until tonight. The pull toward Russ had been so overpowering, she was willing to think about him differently than she did men like Matthew—she was even considering something deeper than her usual involvement with guys.
When Russ had kissed her, the chemistry had been explosive, which made it a surprise that she hadn’t felt any physical pull toward him back in Georgia at Savannah and Brad’s wedding. Then again, they’d barely met, let alone had time to get to know each other. She’d been busy being Savannah’s maid of honor. There was only one thing that had made an impression, and it wasn’t his exaggerated height. She’d clearly forgotten that.
No, his smile was what she’d remembered. That incredible smile.
Thankfully, he hadn’t gone off in a huff over her plan to scold him for not signing his discharge papers. A shock, because it seemed he was so strung out from stress that she’d braced for an exaggerated overreaction, especially in wake of Savannah’s concerns about him being a bit out of control.
One of her philosophies—honed from her rough childhood—was that a person came into someone’s life when there was a true need. Perhaps Russ needed something from her.
But what did the universe think she needed from him?
Good question…
After a quick stop at the grocery store to pick up a few things, Joslynn finally pulled into the driveway of her small house—the one Savannah always called “the Cottage.” Though she was happy to be home, her mood changed considerably when she looked around.
Matthew was sitting in his car, which was parked across the street.
He was frowning as he got out of his Accord and strode toward her while she fished the two grocery bags out of her Kia.
He tried to take one of the bags. “Where were you?” he snapped.
Joslynn narrowed her eyes, then glared at him for a moment. There was no way she’d let him believe he had any right to know where she’d been. That had never been a part of their little dance. When she’d told him no emotional ties, he’d agreed.
His shoulders slumped. “Sorry. I was just…upset. I came by to see if you wanted to go to a late show. There’s a new indie film at the Art House and…” He shrugged.
“I thought you had a shift tonight.” She shut the car door with her hip. Not that she kept track of when he worked. The doctors currently assigned to the ER were all pretty decent at their jobs, Matthew included. That meant she never had to shuffle her schedule around to be sure she wasn’t stuck on the night shift with doctors who couldn’t pull their weight and needed her to pick up their slack.
Instead of inviting him inside, which she might normally do, she turned to scowl at him and let him know this kind of popping up unannounced was out-of-bounds. “Why are you here?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just missed you.”
The last few times they’d been together, Joslynn had been a bit concerned that Matthew’s feelings had grown beyond their physical attraction. Even before the date with Russ, she’d been easing into ending her arrangement with Matthew. Subtle was evidently wasted on him, so she’d have to be more deliberate in letting him know they were done. There was no guilt at going on a date with Russ, because she and Matthew had never agreed to be exclusive anywhere except the bedroom.
Now he was getting territorial, something for which she had no tolerance. “Why don’t I come in for a while?” he suggested, which he typically said when he wanted to have sex.
With her mind full of Russell Green, she didn’t think being with another man was a good idea. “Matthew, I really think we should talk…”
He let out a groan.
“It’s just…Look, it’s time we went back to being just colleagues.”
“You’re breaking up with me?”
“There’s nothing to break up,” she insisted. “Not really. We both agreed—”
“But we’ve been together nine months, Joslynn. Of course there’s something to break up.”
Had it been that long? Then it was past time to end things, especially if Matthew felt as if they were a true couple now. “I told you all along that this was just sex, Matthew.”
�
�Can we go inside?” he asked. “I’m not in the mood to blab our love life to the whole neighborhood.”
She owed him an explanation, so she nodded. “Come on in. I’ll get us some wine, and we can talk.”
* * *
Joslynn took a sip of merlot as she looked at Matthew over the rim of her glass. They’d been talking in circles for long enough that she was about to lose her temper. “We both agreed to keep things casual,” she said yet again.
“Things changed,” he said, still frowning at her.
Perhaps by pointing out a few facts, he’d stop insisting they were a romantic couple. “I know you’ve been on other dates, Matthew. You went out with Maggie a couple of times. And didn’t you bring Pam to that 5K in May?”
“Well, yeah, but…”
She put her glass down and leaned forward, putting her elbows on her thighs and folding her hands together. “There’s no ‘but’ here, okay?”
“But I think I love you, Jos.”
Fuck a duck. That was the last thing she wanted or needed to hear. Love? Who had time for that kind of nonsense?
Love was an illusion. In her life, she’d learned the hard way that there was passion, there was pity, and there was loyalty—those three covered everything. She’d yet to meet a man who could change her opinion on the subject.
“You don’t love me, Matthew. You’re just comfortable with me. That’s all.”
“You don’t understand.”
“No, you don’t understand. I told you the first time we were together that I’m not the kind of woman who ever wants to be tied down. It’s not my nature.” She took a deep breath and tried to spin things in a positive direction. “You’re a great guy. Someone out there is gonna be lucky to catch you.”
“I want you to catch me,” he said, giving her puppy-dog eyes.
They didn’t work. She couldn’t help but feel manipulated, and she decided to draw a firm line. Adopting the stern voice she used with patients who were unruly, she leveled a hard stare at him. “Listen to me now, because I don’t want to have to say it again. Are you listening?”
With a heavy frown on his face, he nodded curtly.
“I like working with you. You’re a great doctor. I enjoy talking to you while we’re at the hospital. But from now on, please don’t come to my house. Please don’t call or text unless you really need to talk to me about work. Okay?”
His emotions played across his face, and he bowed his head for a bit. “Joslynn…”
“I mean it. There’s nothing between us except friendship. Got it?”
Then he looked up, still frowning. “Fine.”
A sigh of relief slipped out. She was glad Matthew seemed to see things through her eyes, although she knew there’d probably be a few more times she’d have to remind him of their new status before it finally sank in. “So we can just be friends? You won’t keep showing up when I run or when I teach yoga?”
“Do I have to give up the yoga?” He gave her a lopsided smile. “There are some cute girls in your class.”
Joslynn let a hint of a smile bloom. “Fine. You can come to yoga.”
* * *
It felt odd to be heading home before the restaurant closed. How long had it been since Russ wasn’t the one to lock the doors on his way out?
Thirty-some days, according to Brad.
Russ pulled into his garage, turned off the engine, and just sat there. He checked his phone, hoping Josie had texted.
You idiot. She saw you less than an hour ago.
He forced himself out of the SUV and into his home, not sure what to do with himself. Maybe he could catch up on the laundry that had piled up. He tended to collapse on the couch as soon as he got home. There were a lot of chores he could do since his house badly needed cleaning. The place was a mess, and if Joslynn came to visit…
Now he was getting the cart in front of the horse. He had no business even going out with her again. She was a nice woman who deserved better than the likes of him.
Well, maybe not so nice. She had, after all, come to Words & Music to tear him a new one. He hadn’t realized it was that big a thing to not hang around for stupid stuff like paperwork. From now on he’d try to be a little more patient and a little less rude.
“Try” being the key word.
Everything about his life now seemed frantic, frenzied, and he didn’t have a clue how to slow things down. Ever since his father’s diagnosis, everything in Russ’s life was different. Urgency seeped from every pore. While he might always have been a bit manic, now he felt out of control, like he had to do everything at once and right fucking now.
Before it was too late for Russ to enjoy his life.
His phone rang—John Lennon’s “Mother” revealing the caller.
“Hey, Mom. How was today?”
“A good day,” she replied, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “He was himself.”
“Glad to hear it. So what’s up?”
“I wanted to see if you were still going to be able to stay with him Tuesday. I promise not to be gone long, but my hair’s a mess.”
“I’ll be there,” Russ promised. “And take your time. You don’t get out enough.”
His mother snorted. “Like I can stay away for long.”
“We’ll be fine for however long it takes you to get a haircut. I wish you’d go to a movie or something, too. You know, just get out of the house for a bit.”
“I get out plenty,” she insisted.
This time he snorted at her. “Is the cleaning service going to be there Tuesday while I’m there?”
“No. They’re on Mondays now. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for them. I don’t think I’ve had a better gift in my whole life.”
“You’ve got enough on your hands with Dad,” Russ said. “The least I could do is get some people to clean your house for you.”
“Thanks, honey. You’re my favorite kid.”
“I’m your only kid,” he said, as always, with a grin on his face.
His father’s voice bellowed in the background, and Russ caught a profanity, something that never would’ve slipped from Baron Green’s lips before.
“Uh-oh,” she said. “Dad needs me.”
“Everything okay? He sounds agitated.”
“We’re fine, Russell. I’ve got this.” Her typical admonition whenever Russ offered to help. “Love you.” With that, she was gone.
Setting his phone aside, he tried to relax. It wasn’t easy, because the worry for his parents was always there. Like background noise that grew steadily louder, adding to the frenetic intensity of his life.
It wasn’t as though he needed psychoanalysis to figure out his problem. He was utterly terrified that his days were numbered—at least his normal days. The days as Russell Green, a man who knew who he was, held tight to the memories of his past, and was in control of his own life.
Alzheimer’s disease was slowly stealing all those things away from his father—and at the horribly early age of fifty-eight.
At first Russ and his mother had thought Baron was just getting forgetful. He constantly lost things, but everyone at work had joked about it. Sometimes when he tried to talk, he couldn’t seem to find the right words, like he was tongue-tied. Then his work began to suffer—forgetting shifts, not completing his duties—until his boss at the security firm finally had no choice but to fire him.
When the diagnosis had finally come, it had been devastating—early-onset Alzheimer’s disease, something that had no cure. The meds that did exist only offered hope of slowing the progress of the damage.
Russ couldn’t help but admire his mother—Yvonne Green was a saint among women. She approached Baron’s diagnosis the way she approached everything else in life. She met the challenge head-on and did everything she could to help her husband. After putting in her early retirement papers with the police department where she’d been a dispatcher, she’d taken on her husband’s care, constantly searching for things that would help Bar
on cope with the cognitive changes.
Thankfully, money wasn’t an issue. Russ had never been an NFL star, but his agent had done one brilliant thing—he’d practically forced Russ to take out injury insurance. Three years into his unexceptional NFL career, Russ had destroyed his right shoulder. At least the payout that came when he had to resign from the Indianapolis Colts after three seasons softened the blow. He’d been a decent player, but it wasn’t as though the team truly missed their backup quarterback, especially when they already had a franchise player leading the team.
He’d used some of the windfall to become partners with Brad and Ethan in Words & Music and never looked back. Now he did everything he could to help his parents, from hiring a physical therapist to being sure his mother had the help she would need as her husband continued to deteriorate. Russ’s Christmas present to his mother was to hire a housekeeping duo to come clean once a week so she no longer had to worry about those tedious chores.
He tossed his wallet on the kitchen bar, then set his phone beside it. He toed off his boots, leaving them on the rug as he went to the refrigerator. He wanted a beer, but he couldn’t remember if he had any.
Couldn’t remember? Damn. Wasn’t that a symptom of Alzheimer’s?
“Stop it,” he grumbled to himself. He couldn’t live whatever was left of his life terrified that he’d be a victim. Just like his father.
But that was exactly what he was—terrified. Absolutely, utterly terrified of losing himself.
The moment he opened the fridge’s door, he saw the longnecks and remembered buying them a couple days ago. Sure, he might develop the fucking disease someday.
But not today.
After opening the bottle, leaving the cap on the island with other stuff he’d discarded, and taking a long swig of the beer, Russ took a seat on one of the bar stools and started shuffling through the mail. Nothing but junk, which he shoved aside before taking another pull of the brew, hoping it would relax him.
His shoulders felt tight, especially his bum one. The damn thing ached, which meant there was probably rain in the forecast. In fact, his whole body hurt. Pretty sucky that he was thirty-four and had enough arthritis in his battered body to predict the weather.