by Janice Lynn
“What other women?” He glanced around his living room. “I only see you.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m not that shallow, Sarah.”
When she didn’t relent, he sighed. “You want me to sign my name in blood that I won’t see other women?”
“You can do whatever you want. Whoever you want,” she clarified. “Just not on my time. If I agree to this, then I don’t want other women in your apartment.”
Surprisingly, he didn’t tell her she was crazy, that she had no right to make demands. Instead, he regarded her a moment, then asked, “You’ll do the same?”
His question was laughable.
“I don’t have men come and go out of my apartment.”
“You go to their apartments?” he pushed.
“No.”
His brow arched. “You do date?”
Not often. Dating wasn’t high on her list of things to do. Never had been. She’d watched too many women squander their lives away chasing after that elusive “the one”. Most of the time, she was smarter than that.
At the moment she didn’t feel smart. She’d thought Jude wanted to take her to bed and instead he was trying to talk her into agreeing to spend the next several weeks dating him.
A smart woman would have already agreed.
Or was it that a smart woman would have already left his apartment? Or never been there to begin with?
“That guy, the one who stood you up, you have been on a date since that night?”
She winced at the reminder of just how miserable dating gone wrong could make her feel. Instead, she’d cling to how good his kiss had made her feel, to the knowledge that he wanted to kiss her again.
“Occasionally,” she answered, trying to stay focused on their conversation rather than all the things running through her mind. “My priorities haven’t been on how many notches I could put on my bedpost.”
Although she’d been striking out, he didn’t seem offended by her comment.
“What have your priorities been?”
“Not on getting laid.”
“I think it’s safe to say you’ve established that.” His gaze narrowed. “You do think notches are my priority?”
They were talking in circles. She took another step back, determined she was going to make her way to her apartment.
“I don’t know you well enough to know your priorities.”
“Which I plan to remedy,” he countered.
Flustered, she put her hands on her hips and glared. “You seriously want to take me to a Broadway show? To date me, just me, through Christmas?”
Eyes glimmering, he grinned. “Absolutely.”
She had to say yes, didn’t she? Only a fool would say no to what he was offering. As long as she stayed focused on the facts, that they weren’t in a real relationship but a temporary one, that she didn’t want a real relationship any more than he did, everything would be fine.
She met his gaze and even before she said a single word, victory shone in his eyes.
“You know if you stand me up I’ll put cockroaches under your apartment door,” she warned.
Not looking worried, he grinned. “Cockroaches?”
“Or worse.”
Rather than say something teasing back, he cupped her cheek. “I won’t stand you up, Sarah. But I’m glad to hear that you refuse to let any man, myself included, treat you shabbily.” His hold tightened ever so slightly. “Make sure you don’t stand me up.”
As if.
* * *
The emergency room had been busy. Busy enough that Sarah hadn’t been able to dwell on her date with Jude the following night.
Not so busy that she hadn’t paused outside her apartment to stare at his closed door that morning.
Not so busy that she hadn’t answered his text messages saying good morning, then telling her to have a good afternoon, then messaging her that he’d been called in to the station that night but looked forward to seeing her the following evening.
He really planned to take her out.
If he stood her up, she’d be devastated. As much as she hated to admit that truth, she acknowledged it. Wasn’t that why she’d never let a man pick her up at her new apartment? Because she didn’t want her beloved home tainted by painful memories of being stood up?
Yet she’d agreed to go out with Jude.
Which meant she needed to figure out what she was going to wear.
Typically she dressed to avoid attracting any type of attention from the opposite sex. Doing so had just made life easier through med school and as an emergency room physician. Trying to appear attractive garnered attention she didn’t want, hence the thick glasses sitting on her face that weren’t prescription but that she wore any time she left her house.
Camouflage? Or self-defense?
While typing up the report on the last patient she’d seen, for a kidney stone, she mentally ran through the items in her closet.
Nothing there suitable for a dinner and show with Jude Davenport.
Unless she wanted to put on the dress she’d worn the night Kenny had been a no-show. Not going to happen.
She wasn’t much of a shopper, but she supposed she could search tomorrow to find something. Not on Fifth Avenue, where most of Jude’s dates probably shopped, but surely she could find something decent at an upscale department store or second-hand shop?
Maybe she’d even stop by the make-up counter and have her face done while there.
Or maybe she was being ridiculous in considering trying to spiff herself up to impress Jude. If she spiffed non-stop between now and tomorrow evening, she’d never rival the beauties she’d seen leaving his apartment.
Plus, the last time she’d spiffed up had gone horribly wrong and had ended with her looking like a raccoon from the tears she’d cried when she’d called Kenny and realized he’d forgotten he’d asked her out...and was out on a date with someone else. She’d not bothered to tell Jude that part. Why humiliate herself even further than she already had?
She finished up her notes on the patients she’d cared for during her shift, then logged off the computer system.
“You heading out?” her friend Shelley asked.
Sarah stood, stretching her spine. “Yes. Today wasn’t as bad as yesterday, thank goodness, but it’s definitely been another long one.”
“Speaking of yesterday, how’s the little girl? The one rescued by that hunky firefighter who saved her life and made me want to take him home to give him some tender loving care and a good scrub down.”
Sarah’s cheeks flamed at Shelley’s mention of Jude. He’d been the one to give her the tender loving care, along with a delicious meal. No scrub down. They’d both already showered by the time she’d set off her alarm.
“Keeley’s good,” she said, thinking of the little girl she’d checked on several times throughout her shift. She’d even gotten permission from Keeley’s mother to text Jude to let him know about the child. “She recovered consciousness this evening. Hopefully, she’ll be weaned off the vent before the night is through.”
Sarah spoke with her friend a few more minutes, considered mentioning that she had a date with the hunky firefighter, but decided not to. They hadn’t actually gone on a date so she shouldn’t jump the gun, just in case.
Not that she thought Jude would stand her up. With her history, she should be terrified he would change his mind, that he’d find some excuse to cancel their date. There was a tiny part of her that acknowledged the possibility, but her gut instinct was that he wouldn’t do that. Something about him exuded honor and integrity.
Which was ridiculous when she knew he was a scoundrel when it came to women.
But if she didn’t live next door to him, if she hadn’t seen the pleth
ora of women parading in and out of his apartment, if they really had met yesterday at the hospital, she’d have thought him a really great guy. A hero kind of guy.
Which might be testament to how foolish she was being over the man.
She was still thinking about Jude when she said hi to their apartment building doorman, while she rode the elevator up to their floor, when she stepped out of the elevator and made her way down the corridor. She’d not taken but a few steps when she noticed the large, brightly wrapped box with a huge gold bow propped against her apartment door.
A present?
She didn’t have to wonder from who, because there could only be one person who’d do such a thing.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SARAH DIDN’T WANT to be excited, but was as she bent and pulled the card with her name on it off the box.
Heart pounding, goofy smile tugging at her mouth, reminding herself not to read too much into anything Jude did, she ripped into the envelope.
I planned to give you this in person, but got called to the fire hall. Can’t wait to see you in this tomorrow night. Wear your hair up and forget your glasses so I can see your lovely face.
Her heart muscles squeezed a little too tight at his last line. Because of the past, she told herself.
Besides, if the man had bought her underwear she was going to place the order for cockroaches.
Not really. She’d put whatever skimpy piece of silk and lace the box held on and model for him. She’d probably be wearing a goofy smile to go with it, too.
But even if the size of the box hadn’t already suggested otherwise, when she picked up the box, she knew whatever was inside was more than underwear.
Feeling like a kid in anticipation of Christmas morning and trying to remind herself there wasn’t really a Santa Claus and she shouldn’t be so keyed up, she unlocked her door, stepped inside, stripped off her winter layers, then carried the box to her coffee table.
Rather than open it, she sat on her sofa and stared at the package as if it might contain a rattlesnake.
Or the cure to cancer.
She was both eagerly excited to see what the box held but also afraid of what gift he might have given.
Or maybe it was a consolation prize because he planned to cancel after all?
No, he’d said he couldn’t wait to see her in it and, truly, she couldn’t see him doing that, not with how passionate he’d been about Kenny having done so.
Taking care, she pulled the ribbon off from around the box, then lifted the lid, and moved aside the tissue paper.
Oh, my.
Inside were a small gold-foil-covered box, a shoe-sized box, and the most beautiful dress she’d ever seen.
Had she gone shopping she never could have found anything so perfect in color and style.
Not that the items were likely to fit right. Not with her lack of curves, and how would Jude have known her size? But the sea-green dress was gorgeous, modestly cut, and very close to the color of her eyes.
She ran her finger over the silky material. Not too flashy, not too revealing, yet definitely something more figure-flattering than she’d ever worn. What size was it?
She moved the material aside to where she could see the label. Oh, wow. She dropped the material for fear she might damage the dress. She might be a fashion wreck, but even she recognized the designer and that the dress would have had a hefty price tag.
Christmas morning excitement or not, she couldn’t wear the dress. She didn’t want Jude spending money on her. That wasn’t who she was. As a matter of fact, she’d planned to offer to pay for her show ticket and dinner.
Not that she’d thought he’d let her, but she would have been sincere in her offer to do so.
With shaky hands she picked up the shoe box, knowing what she’d find inside, and lifted the lid. Matching designer shoes in her exact size with medium-height heels. Smart man in choosing a pair that wouldn’t make her feet hurt or make her walk like a shaky newborn fawn.
Again, the designer name on the shoe was one she recognized, but not one she’d ever splurged to purchase.
Unless he’d seen her size in the shoes she’d slipped off her feet while snuggled up on his sofa, drinking her wine, she had no clue how he’d known what size to buy. Good grief, the man paid attention to details.
A dress, shoes...she could only guess what was in the small box. The skimpy panties she’d imagined earlier?
She was wrong. Very wrong.
Inside was a velvet jewelry case.
If she’d thought her hands had been shaky before, now they shook with full-blown tremors. Earthquake-sized ones that probably had some Richter-scale-watching scientist freaking out as he tried to track down the source.
Holding her breath, she flipped open the box lid.
Inside was a stunning pair of dangling, sparkling earrings that surely to goodness weren’t real diamonds, and a folded piece of paper with a handwritten message.
I won’t forget.
Her eyes watered. He wouldn’t. He’d be there. He’d bought her a dress, shoes, and earrings to wear. She’d never been given clothes or jewelry by a man. Not ever.
The only jewelry she owned was a gold chain with a quote pendant on it that her mother had given her at her high school graduation and that she rarely took off.
To thine own self be true
She pulled the chain from beneath the layers of her scrubs and long-sleeved undershirt and fingered the charm.
She wasn’t quite sure how to take Jude’s gifts.
Obviously, from his luxurious apartment, he didn’t live on a firefighter’s pay but on the deep Davenport dollars. He probably had trust funds. The gifts meant nothing to him, but were likely commonplace things he did for women.
If so, no wonder they came to him in droves.
What was she saying? If he gave them no gift except his time and body, women would come to Jude in droves.
She would come to him.
She didn’t want gifts. She wanted...him.
She closed her watery eyes, took a deep breath, then pulled out her phone to text him a “thank you, but not necessary” note. She’d barely hit send when her phone rang with his number showing on the screen.
“Sorry I wasn’t there to give them to you in person. I’d like to have watched you open them,” he said by way of greeting. “Tell me you were smiling.”
“I was smiling,” she admitted. “They are lovely, Jude, but I have clothes and if I needed new ones I can afford to go shopping.” Not on the scale of what he’d sent her, but she did make a decent living. “Like I said in my text, buying me gifts wasn’t necessary.”
Unless he had wanted her dressed a certain way, up to a certain social standard in case they ran into friends? She couldn’t convince herself of that from a man who hung out in a fire hall, who hadn’t cared who’d seen him dirty and smelly at the hospital. He didn’t come across as a social snob, but she supposed anything was possible.
“I didn’t think it necessary,” he countered over the phone. “I wanted to give them to you.”
Sarah fought sucking in a deep breath.
“I want tomorrow night, my taking you to your first Broadway show, to be everything you ever dreamed, to make up for the last time you thought you were going.”
She bit the inside of her lower lip and squeezed the phone a little tighter in hope of steadying her hand. “You don’t need to make up for another man’s wrongs, Jude.”
Which was the first time she’d ever admitted out loud that Kenny had done something wrong. Even to him, she’d accepted his explanation that he’d forgotten, made other plans, but that she understood, right? Because he and Sarah were just going as friends anyway, right?
“No,” Jude agreed. “But I want to.”
&nbs
p; She closed her eyes, told her heartbeat to slow down before it pounded out of her chest. “You always do what you want?”
“Not always.”
“Most of the time?”
“Yes.”
Did that mean he hadn’t wanted to have sex with her the night before? She’d thought...no, she’d known that’s what he’d wanted. He’d just been tired. She’d been tired. He’d promised he wouldn’t trick her into his bed if she came to dinner and he’d kept his promise.
Not that he would have had to trick her. All he’d had to do was crook his finger and she’d have followed wherever he led.
Just like Brandy. Ugh.
“Should I remind you that I’m not like the women you usually date?” She definitely needed to remind herself of the women he usually dated.
“No reason to. I already know you’re not like the women I usually date.”
She’d swear she could hear amusement in his voice, but what he found funny, she wasn’t sure. Regardless, his light-hearted tone eased some of her tension. Some, but not all.
“You giving expensive gifts makes me uncomfortable.”
“You shouldn’t be uncomfortable, Sarah,” he assured her in a more serious voice. “I don’t want you to think the gifts came with strings attached. They didn’t. I gave them to you because I wanted you to have them, because giving them to you gave me pleasure, and my only regret is that I wasn’t there to watch your face while you opened them.”
She wasn’t sure she believed him. She had no reason to. Then again, she had no reason not to other than her mother’s voice blaring through her head.
“Okay,” she ventured, leaning back on the sofa and staring at her presents. “Thank you. They are lovely.”
“So are you. Did the dress fit?”
He thought she was lovely? Good grief, why was a man’s compliments and excitement flabbergasting her so? She was logical, reasonable, too smart to be swayed by pretty words.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, swayed by his pretty words because she was smiling that goofy smile again and no matter how she tried to wipe it off her face, she couldn’t. So much for logic and reason. “I haven’t tried it on.”