Then, with Jake’s plea to help ringing in her ears, she laid her hand on Greg’s chest. Right over his heart. She felt its strong beat beneath her fingertips. “You’re your own man, you know. You don’t always have to try to measure up.”
“I wish.”
“You’ve constructed the rivalry between you and your father. You. The world isn’t always making comparisons.” Funny. She could say the same thing about herself and Jess—only in that case it would be a blatant lie, because people did make comparisons between identical twins. Constantly. If she had just one dollar for every time she’d heard someone say “I can’t tell you apart,” she’d be richer than Greg and Jake combined.
“Be nice if I could believe that,” he grumbled as he pulled away. “Now what did you want on your pizza?”
In other words, consider the subject changed. Fine by her. After several weeks outside the courtroom, she was out of practice trying to convince a brick wall it was actually made of wood. “Anything but hot peppers and mushrooms.”
“You hate mushrooms too? I knew you had impeccable taste.” After chuckling at his own joke, he called to order the pizza, large with everything but peppers and mushrooms. Then he sat on the couch and pulled her onto his lap. His lips brushed her neck. “Pizza won’t be here for forty-five minutes.”
“What happened to thirty minutes or less?”
“Trust me. This place is worth the extra fifteen minutes.” He whispered in her ear. “Besides, think of all the fun we can have while we wait.”
Teeth nipped at her nape and she gasped. “There is that.”
Neither of them spoke for a while after that. They spent the ensuing 45-minute wait making out on the couch. Necking and petting like teenagers. His hands were all over her, usually on top of her clothes. The clothes were really getting in the way. But every time she tried to strip down, he stopped her.
“What’s the rush?” he asked after he’d used a soul-searing kiss to effectively distract her from wriggling out of her pants.
“I—” She snapped her mouth closed. A man who looked like a Greek god and kissed like an angel had no need to hurry to the main event. “No reason, I guess.”
“Neither one of us is going anywhere, Jenn.” Barely leashed passion smoldered in Greg’s eyes. “We have all night.”
She closed her eyes and surrendered to his pace. By the time the doorbell rang, he’d brought her to the edge three times. Just with kisses and caresses. Wow. That had happened—never.
She watched, dazed, as he paid the delivery guy and brought the pizza back to the coffee table. “You’re good.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.” He smiled and flipped open the pizza box. “Are you ready for the best pizza you’ve ever eaten?”
“Is that Chicago deep dish?” Her mouth started to water.
“A Windy City special, straight from Oregano’s.”
She loved Oregano’s, a local joint with punny ads like “menu can trust.” She wasted no time grabbing a slice and taking a bite. She moaned through a mouthful. “Oh my God. So good.”
“You like it?”
She nodded. “Just like the deep-dish pies we got while I was in law school at Northwestern.”
“Northwestern? Why not Harvard or Yale?”
“Hey! I’ll have you know Northwestern ranks right up there with the Ivy League schools. One of the top fourteen in the country.” Few things riled her more than the snobby rich attitude he was copping right now. “And they gave me the best financial aid deal. Some of us weren’t born with the proverbial silver spoon.”
“You get what you pay for.” He reached for a piece of pizza.
“That’s the difference between you and me. You buy the best of everything and never have to worry about doing without.” She dropped the rest of her pizza back in the box, her appetite gone. How had a more-than-pleasant make-out session devolved into an argument about the haves and have-nots? “I can’t afford that luxury. Sometimes, you just have to make do with hot dogs and ramen.”
“Dad can give you a raise, you know.” He stroked her knee with the thumb of his free hand. “He’d say you deserve one for putting up with me full time.”
“I don’t need money, Greg.” Jenn tried to remain focused on the discussion at hand rather than the tingle rippling across her thigh. “Throwing wads of cash at problems doesn’t make them go away.”
His eyebrows shot up and he yanked his hand back. “Were we having a problem?”
The withdrawal left her cold—and reminded her of Jake’s revelation about the intern. No way did she want Greg to think she’d turn on him, accuse him of doing something wrong when their wanting was mutual. She rushed to reassure him by taking his hand and putting it back on her knee. “No. No problem.”
“Good.” His grin heated her insides. “Because I can’t wait to finish dinner and take you to bed.”
****
Big talk.
But it was more than just talk. Greg meant every word he’d just said. When he slid into Jenn after the marathon of foreplay that was just getting started, she’d come apart in his arms.
She gave him a shy smile and reached for the pizza she’d thrown back in the box. “Let’s eat.”
He, too, grabbed another slice. For a long moment, their chewing was the only sound in the room. Then his cell phone rang.
He checked the display and cursed. His father had terrible timing. “Dad. I’d better take it.”
But when he answered, it wasn’t his father’s voice on the line. A woman’s panicked wail rang in his ears. The only woman likely to have Dad’s cell phone was—“Maree?”
The shrieking stopped. “Come quick. Jake’s not doing so well.”
His stepmother was clearly rattled. Her voice shook. Dread knifed straight into Greg’s gut. “He said it was simple dehydration.”
“He didn’t—” sniffle—“want to worry you.”
“Great.” Damn stubborn old man. Had he known, he’d never have left the hospital, no matter how much he needed the distraction. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
He hung up to find Jenn watching him, her eyes worried.
“What’s wrong?”
“Apparently Dad downplayed how sick he was.” Guilt stabbed at him. Had he had any clue how sick Big Jake really was, he’d never have spent the night making out with her.
“He probably didn’t want to worry you.” Jenn jumped off the couch and bustled to the kitchen with the half-empty pizza box. He heard the refrigerator open and close. Then she returned to his side and laid her hand on his shoulder.
No doubt she meant to be comforting, but Greg felt helpless and pissed off. It was all he could do not to jerk away. He fisted his hands. “That’s what my stepmother said, too. But dammit, Jenn, he should have told me the truth. He’s still treating me like a kid too dumb to handle things.”
“Ingrained habits are hard to break, and you’re his child. He’s used to protecting you.” Cool fingertips brushed his neck. “Want me to drive?”
In his state of mind, he’d probably slam them into a cactus. Relieved that she was willing to go with him, he nodded.
Five minutes later, Greg was in the passenger seat of his own car for the second time that day. Not his favorite position. He preferred to be in control.
You need to get a grip on yourself before you try to control an expensive piece of machinery.
What he needed was for his father to trust him. Respect him.
You know how to make that happen.
Shit. He dug his fist into his thigh. Was he really going to have to set aside his own beliefs to make the old man proud?
Jenn braked for a stoplight and turned to look at him. “You okay?”
“Yes.” The terse answer was a blatant untruth. She knew it as well as he did. He sighed. If he couldn’t tell her the truth, he couldn’t be honest with anyone—least of all himself. “No.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
<
br /> “It might help.”
Why not? It sure as hell couldn’t hurt. She did seem to know him better than he knew himself. At times like this, when he was trying to outrun his fears and inadequacies, it scared him. “I can’t do it, Jenn.”
“Do what?” The light changed and she stepped on the gas. The car shot forward.
“Dad wants to see me play in the majors. But if I let him pull strings to get me in, I won’t be able to look at myself in the mirror.”
“Then don’t. You’re good enough to get there on your own.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying for four years now. But it hasn’t happened. I can wait as long as it takes.” His throat threatened to close up, but he pushed out his biggest fear. “I just don’t know if Dad can.”
She bit her lip. Breathed in and out. “Want my advice?”
“You think I just shared my feelings for the hell of it?”
The corners of Jenn’s mouth quirked up, like she didn’t want to smile but couldn’t quite stop herself. At least one of them still had a sense of humor. “Of course not. I think you should wait until you get to the hospital. See what’s really happening before you make any rash decisions. Your stepmother looked to me like the overdramatic type.”
“You got that just by seeing her walk by?” Damn, she was good. “Maree can be a drama queen.”
“Then maybe Jake’s not as bad off as she led you to believe.”
He lapsed into silence. He hoped that was the case.
But when he and Jenn walked into Big Jake’s room in the ICU, he saw right away the hope was misplaced. His father looked shrunken—a pale shadow of himself.
He stopped mid-step, frozen by fear. Cold dread squeezed his heart. His father was…dying.
And you thought he was faking.
From her position at his side, Jenn squeezed his hand. Her voice was a whisper. “Go to him.”
He glanced at his father. His breaths were shallow, but his eyes were alert. Where was Maree? He frowned. His father shouldn’t be in that hospital bed, dying alone. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to close the gap between them. “I can’t.”
“You can.” Jenn stepped behind him and shoved him—hard. “You will.”
She was right. If he wanted respect from the old man, he had to show him some, too. He took three halting steps to the bed and sank into the visitor’s chair. Jenn was at his side. Again. He took comfort in her presence.
She touched his shoulder. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
“No. Stay.”
His father’s head jerked up and down. “Yes. Stay.”
Big Jake’s booming voice had little of its usual power. Greg ached to hear it.
Without comment, she pulled another chair up to the foot of the bed and took a seat. Greg took his father’s hand in both of his. Despaired at how weak he’d become.
“Just dehydrated, huh?” He frowned.
Dad coughed and wheezed out, “Didn’t want to worry you.”
“That’s what everyone keeps saying. But look at you. I should be worried.”
Big Jake snorted. “I’ll be fine. I just overdid it a little. Overtaxed my damn liver. I’ll be back to work in a few days.”
“I wish I could believe that.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “Dad, this is serious.”
“Hardly.” His father pushed himself up on his elbows, displaying the first spark of himself Greg had seen tonight. “Stop counting your inheritance, Two. I’m not going anywhere just yet.”
Oh, how he wished he could believe that.
He couldn’t. Not when the evidence he saw pointed to the contrary.
“Dad, Matt offered to talk me up. I’m going to let him.”
His statement was as much a surprise to him as it was to Big Jake, who looked stunned for a beat before a smile made him look more like himself.
“That’s what I’ve been waiting to hear.”
He shifted his gaze to the floor. Meeting his father’s eyes—or Jenn’s—was too much for him to handle right now. “For you, Dad. Only for you.”
His father’s voice was a thready whisper. “You’d best be doing it for yourself, too.”
Chapter Twelve
It was after midnight when Jake fell asleep and Greg dozed in the chair. Jenn took the opportunity to slip out of the room. First up, a bathroom break and some coffee. Then she wanted to call Jess and her parents.
Watching Greg with his father, both of them hurting but unable to put their feelings into words, made her realize how lucky she was to have the family she had. Her mom, a teacher, was a self-help fanatic. Whenever she read one of her countless books and magazine articles or watched a TV doctor, she then tried to get the family to try whatever she’d just learned. As a result, she and Jess had grown up learning how to share, express themselves, be “emotionally literate”—and countless other pop-psychology terms of the month.
Honesty and openness had their advantages. Of course, sometimes they could be mighty embarrassing. Like the day she’d discovered her mom and college boyfriend in the kitchen, chatting over coffee about the location of the G-spot.
More often than not, though, she was glad her mother had conditioned them to overshare. She not only was able to identify her feelings, but also to effortlessly decide which of them to nurture and put out there, and which ones to keep to herself.
Greg, on the other hand, bottled up everything. Physical activity and competition were his only outlets.
“That can’t be healthy,” she muttered.
She didn’t realize she wasn’t alone in the hallway until Maree flashed a guilty smile. “Sorry. Stress eating.” With that, she popped the last bite of Twinkie into her mouth and licked the rest of the filling from her finger.
Jenn’s cheeks grew warm. “I wasn’t criticizing your snack.”
Still chewing, the other woman shrugged. She swallowed. “You can if you want. I know I shouldn’t eat junk.”
“You have a lot on your mind right now.”
“Amen.” Maree sighed. “I wish Jake and his boy got along better, but that kid is impossible to understand.”
“Are you referring to Greg?”
“That’s his only kid.” Maree’s look was coolly appraising. “You seem to know him pretty well. What’s his problem?”
As comfortable as Jenn was sharing her own feelings, it felt disloyal to share Greg’s, especially with someone she doubted he’d confide in. She shrugged and tried to change the subject. “I really need a cup of coffee.”
“Cafeteria’s this way.” She pointed. “I’ll go with you so we can talk. I could use something sweet.”
Jenn refrained from mentioning the just-finished Twinkie. It was none of her business if Greg’s stepmother wanted to chase sugar with more sugar. For the sake of politeness, she couldn’t say she’d rather go alone, either. She nodded, and Maree fell into step beside her.
“The kid’s been nothing but trouble since I’ve known Jake.”
Apparently Greg’s stepmother couldn’t take a hint. Not surprising, since she had about as much subtlety as a blinking billboard. Jenn clenched her hands to keep from placing them around the woman’s neck. “Greg is a good man. Better than even he knows.”
“Man?” Maree scoffed. “More like a spoiled teenager who doesn’t want anything to do with his father until he needs to be bailed out of trouble.”
She took a page from Thumper’s mother’s book and said nothing, even though Maree wasn’t much older than a teenager herself. Takes one to know one, her inner smart-ass replied.
“You’re a quiet one, are you? Nice change from his last girlfriend. A real talker. Couldn’t get that girl to shut up.”
Like you, huh?
She didn’t say it, as much as she wanted to. She was too busy testing out the label. Girlfriend. Lord help her, she liked it—too much. “Greg and I aren’t—”
Maree chuckled. “I’m not buying that.”
“We’re just friends.”
; “With benefits.”
She pressed her lips together. What did Jake see in this woman? She was obnoxious, loud-mouthed and had a strange idea of fun. “You call hanging out in the hospital a benefit? Because I sure don’t.”
She wouldn’t consider being anywhere else when Greg needed her, of course. But to consider a night in the hospital a perk took some warped view of the world that she’d never possess.
Greg’s stepmother laughed again. “Of course not. You know what I mean.”
And I wish I didn’t. She stabbed at the elevator “down” button with more violence than necessary and wished she’d had the sense to forget good manners. If she had, she’d be on the way to the cafeteria alone.
But that wasn’t meant to be. Maree entered the elevator first, and when the doors slid closed, Jenn felt like an ant under a magnifying glass.
The sharp, appraising gaze made Jenn worry she’d underestimated her. Greg’s stepmother was apparently more than a bubble-headed bleached-blonde with big boobs. She’d have to remember that.
“You and the kid are a helluva lot more than ‘just friends.’ You mean something. To both Greg and Jake. Otherwise, there’s no way Jake would want you here at the hospital.”
“Everyone likes visitors.”
“Not Jake. Last time he was here—”
Jenn had to interrupt. “He’s been here before? When?”
Maree’s eyes were wide and her mouth formed a silent, perfect “O.” She recovered enough composure to flash a saccharine smile. “August. But please don’t tell him I told you. He didn’t want the kid to know.”
“Why on earth not?”
“In the middle of baseball season?” Maree rolled her eyes. “Jake didn’t want the kid to get distracted.”
“Of all the asinine…” Indignation on Greg’s behalf threatened to choke off her air supply. “Did either of you think what it’d do to Greg if Jake had died without giving him the chance to say goodbye?”
The coolly appraising look was back. “Don’t go getting holier-than-thou. Of course I did. And I’d have contacted him against Jake’s wishes, if it had come to that. But it didn’t.”
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