by Norah Wilson
He muted the ringer on his cell and watched as two calls, one right after the other, came in from Terry’s number. Jace turned the phone right off, taking satisfaction from the act.
Seriously, Terry as Old Man Picard? The day anyone in Harkness—hell, anyone in the Greater Prince Region—willingly attached that moniker to Terry Picard would be the day hell froze over.
Pushing thoughts of his brother away, he stepped carefully into the shower. Surprisingly, there was still plenty of hot water, but he didn’t linger under the hot spray. He dressed again in the loose clothing, then paused to eye himself in the steamed-up mirror.
He’d shaved earlier in the day when Ember had been off with Groves, so his scruff was gone. Maybe that was why he felt so naked.
Right. It had nothing to do with the flood of emotions seeing Ember had induced. Nothing to do with feeling useless with that damned gimped-up ankle, while Ember carried the load for both of them.
Yeah, let’s go with that.
Steeling those emotions away, he picked up the stretchy bandage, grabbed his crutches and left the bathroom.
As he clumped his way across the motel room, Ember opened her eyes, pulled out the earbuds, and sat up. Her brow knit as she looked at him. “What’s wrong?”
So much for steeling his emotions away. She always could read him, just as he’d been able to read her. But he had no intention of sharing right now, particularly not about the call with his stepbrother. Everything would be on the table soon enough, but at the moment, she looked beat. He’d had a power nap earlier; she hadn’t. She’d also been running on adrenaline since that accident. And now—adrenaline crash.
“Sleep,” he said. “We can talk later.” He smiled, hopefully reassuringly. “Trust me, okay?”
“All right. Later, then. But at least let me see to that ankle. It needs to be rewrapped.”
Jace looked around the room, scanning the sparsely furnished space for another option than that bed, or the spine-contorting chairs. There wasn’t one.
“The bed,” she instructed. “Doctor’s orders. You need to keep that ankle up.”
“I could call Mrs. Dufour and see if there’s a cot kicking around,” he offered.
She lifted a mocking eyebrow. “And have the old girl think there’s trouble in paradise? We’re supposed to be newly married, remember?”
“I got you a ring.”
As soon as the words were out, he wanted to call them back. What was he thinking, telling her that? The fight with Terry—what that prick had said about Ember—must have shaken him more than he knew. Or maybe he was more tired than he’d thought.
Or maybe he’d blurted those words out because he wanted her to know.
Because he wanted her.
A thrill of something not entirely pleasant rocked through him. Terror. Yeah, he was pretty sure it was terror.
“For my eighteenth birthday?”
He swallowed. “Yeah.”
“I thought so,” Ember said. “I hoped so. I actually thought you were going to give it to me at the camp that night.” She turned away with a nervous laugh. “Sorry, this is…weird.”
He had to tell. Now. He had to tell her about the deal he’d made for the land. Their land. Standish grounds. “Ember, there’s something you need to know.”
“No, Jace.” She turned quickly. “Not…not now. We agreed, sleep now; talk later.”
She thinks I want to talk about that ring. That break up. That damnable night.
He sighed. “Okay.”
She went over to “his” side of the bed and threw the covers back. “Now, get in bed. I’ll rewrap your ankle and give you some meds.”
“I already took some ibuprofen,” he said, but he handed her the balled up bandage and foam pieces and lay down on the bed.
She worked with swift, competent, yet gentle motions to wrap the foot and ankle.
“Better?”
“Better,” he acknowledged.
She drew the covers up so he could reach them, then crossed the room to the lone dresser. For long moments, she finger-combed her towel-dried hair in front of the mirror. Finally satisfied, she turned. Her gaze flickered over him. Then she walked back to the bed and crawled in on her side. Way over to one side, facing away from him.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said softly.
She rolled onto her back. “You didn’t. It’s just been...an intense day, you know?”
“Yeah.”
The bedside lamps flickered and the power went out, plunging the room into darkness. The fan Jace had left running in the bathroom died too, leaving a sudden silence.
“Well, I guess that was bound to happen,” she said.
“Glad it waited for me to get out of the shower.”
They fell silent again. The warm room was a perfect buffer from the wind that blew outside. But it changed the quality of the silence that filled the room now. Made it more complete. Made the space between them...emptier somehow.
He stared up at the ceiling. Those damnable tiles.
He was in bed with her. Fully clad, not touching. Not kissing. Not making love, or making plans. But no mistake, he knew, he was half-way in love with her again.
After a few minutes, she spoke. She’d been so silent and still beside him he was beginning to wonder if she’d fallen asleep.
“Jace?”
“Yeah?”
“Tonight on the highway, when I was helping that girl, Kayla, and her mom...”
Her words trailed off.
“Yeah?” he prompted.
“That’s why I went to medical school. To help people. To stop the pain. I…I just want to make people better. But I’d never attended an accident until today. Never been in that situation. I don’t mind saying I was scared, not having my medical bag with me, no tools. I was so afraid for that girl. But I proved something to myself today.”
“What’s that?”
“I made the right choice. All the sacrifice, all the hard work...it paid off.”
“It did,” he said without hesitation. “You heard that paramedic—you saved that young woman. You’re a hell of a woman, Ember Standish. A hell of a doctor. I was proud watching you today. Proud of what you’ve become.”
“What would our lives have looked like if things had been different?” Her voice was sleepy now, and she let the question roll to an end on a big, jaw-cracking yawn.
Jace was still thinking about how to respond to that when he heard her breathing change, followed moments later by soft snoring.
He remained wide awake, staring at the ceiling.
Chapter 17
EMBER’S EBOOK ended on a satisfying note, with espionage agents Dax and Belinda finding their happy ever after, even though she was the honeypot set out to trap him, and he’d been planning to ruthlessly sacrifice her. That’s why she loved romantic fiction. People always worked it out, no matter how grim the situation looked, or how wide the chasm between them. In real life, people couldn’t seem to get past even the pettiest slights.
With a tug, she pulled the headphones from her ears and placed them quietly on top of her iPhone on the nightstand.
The power was still off and the room was in near total darkness. No red digits flashed perpetually from the clock radio or the old VHS player. From the sounds of it, the storm had subsided, so maybe the power crews would get the juice turned back on soon. It had been off now for...well, hours. Since after supper, and it was now what? Probably around ten o’clock.
Duh. Check your phone.
She reached for it. Ten nineteen.
She’d zonked out almost immediately, but after a couple of hours, she’d woken. Jace had been fast asleep. She’d rolled over and chased sleep again, but she’d been too conscious of him beside her, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. So she’d grabbed her phone and finished the audiobook she’d been listening to.
Even as she’d listened, though, she hadn’t been able to cancel out her awareness of him. Every so often, the
mattress would shift when he unconsciously adjusted his injured ankle. But it wasn’t his movements that disturbed her. It was his scent. It was a short mental trip from savoring that clean, masculine smell to remembering the lingering taste of his kisses.
Somewhere inside, I’m still the same Jace and you’re still the same Ember.
His words came back to her, along with the memory of his face when he’d said it. His eyes so hot, expression fiercely intent.
Could it be true? Could it be that easy? Despite everything, at his core, was he still the same boy she’d fallen in love with?
At Chloe’s this morning, she’d instinctively leapt to his defence, so she clearly still believed generally in his good character, his decency.
She’d also confided her worries about her dad. Yes, he’d nudged it out of her, but it hadn’t taken much work on his part. She wasn’t like that. As friendly and outgoing as she was socially, she was extremely private about her personal life. She didn’t open up easily to others. Not about stuff that mattered, like family. The fact that she’d shared her concerns meant that she still trusted him on some deeper level, even after all these years. Even after what happened.
Why hadn’t she trusted him before? The question sank its talons into her psyche. When those pictures had surfaced, why hadn’t she given him a chance to explain?
Why hadn’t he come after her? The familiar question ran through her brain, along with the equally well-worn answer: If she’d really mattered to him, he would have come to Ottawa and found her.
That mantra had been one hundred percent effective at allaying any stirrings of guilt she might have felt over the way she’d handled things.
Until now.
Now, it was doing nothing to assuage her doubts and regrets.
In retrospect, those romantic notions of him riding after her on a white horse—or at least his father’s Lexus—seemed...incredibly childish. Had she really expected that of him? And to what end? To prove…what? She wasn’t sure anymore.
But she was sure of something else. If this was the start of something new from the ashes, the rekindling of a long-smoldering fire, she’d never make that mistake again. She’d—
Wait a minute—rekindling a fire? Panic flash-dried the inside of her mouth as she realized the direction of her thoughts. A few kisses did not mean he was back in her life. Or she in his. Harkness, New Brunswick was a damned long way from Long Beach, California, which was looking more and more like it made the most sense.
But you’re here right now, a voice whispered. And Jace is right beside you in this bed, like he should have been ten years ago, on your eighteenth birthday.
So much had happened since then. To both of them.
Her thoughts went to Mick, then Harrison. She’d told Jace they’d been too demanding, asked too much of her. That had been part of it, certainly, but it wasn’t the whole tale. Those romances had been doomed from the start, if she were honest with herself.
Sighing, she got out of bed, picked up her phone and went to the bathroom where she sent a quick text to Scott, telling him she was still with the patient, not to worry. Even as she typed that last part, she knew he’d worry. Big time. But she couldn’t think about that.
Then she’d called the regional hospital where Kayla Hunter had been transported. When she identified herself and explained she’d treated Kayla at the accident site, they put her through to the intensivist on duty, who gave her a report. The young lady was found to have blunt force trauma to both the liver and spleen, with intraperitoneal hemorrhage. The paramedics had done appropriate volume resuscitation, so she’d been fairly stable on arrival, hemodynamically speaking. The trauma team used angiographic embolization to control the bleeding and so far, she was showing no signs of sepsis. He was optimistic she would recover completely, hopefully without the need for surgery. Kayla’s mother had a concussion, bruising and lacerations, and was being held overnight in the ER for observation, but seemed to have escaped more serious injury. She thanked the doctor and ended the call.
Thank God.
With a lighter heart, she crept back to bed, using the light from her phone’s screen. Putting the phone down quietly, she eased in under the blankets. Beside her, Jace shifted from his side to lie flat on his back. She held her breath and waited to see if he was awake, some traitorous part of her hoping he was.
With the minimal lighting from her still lit phone, she peered at him. His eyes were closed, and his shallow breathing was consistent with sleep, so she took the opportunity to look her fill. His left arm lay at his side, while the right arm was draped across his chest. He was as handsome as ever, but it was a different handsome now, his features more rugged and time-carved.
A lot of girls had swooned over Jace Picard back in the day. Still more had swooned over his family’s net worth. But he’d only had eyes for Ember. She knew it. And he had absolutely captured her tender, young heart.
They’d missed out on so much.
Oh, not on life. Life had clearly gone on for both of them, and gone on well.
Her dad had kept her up to date on all the Harkness news that came his way, including Jace’s accomplishments. She knew, for instance, that he’d done well in university, though he’d wound up choosing Toronto over Ottawa for his bachelor’s degree. Eventually, with a shiny MBA under his belt, he’d come back to the province. He’d been active with the boxing club at university, and on his return, he’d coached school-aged kids locally in his spare time. When his picture had appeared in the Harkness Times standing proudly with his boys, Arden had mailed her the clipping.
But Jace had never been engaged. He’d also never showed up at a Standish Christmas Party. She’d never run into him at Drummond’s Meat and Produce, The Duchess Diner, or any place else. And yes, she’d searched the crowds.
In ten years, she’d never, ever seen him in person. How weird was that? Granted, she wasn’t home all that often, and not for long stretches. Yes, she was aware that he spent time in Fredericton as well as Harkness, which would also cut down the odds. But wasn’t it strange that she’d never seen him even once in all that time? Surely he’d come home for holidays too.
Except this was a holiday weekend, and he’d been out at the camp in the middle of the woods. Had he gone out there because she was in town? And if so, why? After all this time, why would he feel it necessary to avoid her? Was he that ashamed? Did he resent her that much?
Or...
Did he suspect all along that seeing each other again might rekindle the fire? Within her? Or within himself? The thought made her breath catch.
I might have run, but were you hiding, Jace Picard? Hiding from me all these years?
He turned back onto his side again, facing away from her. In all the rolling around, he’d managed to push the blankets down to his waist, exposing his T-shirt clad shoulder, his strong back. The room had cooled a lot since the power had gone out earlier, and he’d surely waken if he stayed uncovered like that. Reaching for the blankets, she pulled them back up over him.
She let her fingertips linger there on his shoulder a moment. Just as she was going to withdraw them, his hand clamped down on hers. Her heart leapt into her throat.
He rolled onto his back again and stared at her, frowning. “Power back on?”
She shook her head. “No, that’s my phone. I was using it as a flashlight to get to the bathroom. It’ll shut itself off soon.”
Her words came out sounding breathy, but she couldn’t help it. He still held her hand, and his roughened fingertips were playing over her palm now. The desire she’d been trying to suppress pooled in her belly.
Could they take this moment out of time? Claim the intimacy that circumstance denied them ten years ago?
“I’d offer you a penny for your thoughts, but I haven’t a cent on me,” he said.
“Then this one’s on the house.” She drew her hand from his grip and splayed it on his chest, feeling the hard pounding of his heart that belied his calm, control
led demeanor. “I was wondering how crazy it would be if we made love.”
His heart rate took another jump under her palm. “Right now?”
She smiled, letting her hand drift downward. “Yeah. Right now.”
He trapped her hand against his abdomen. “Ember, we don’t have a condom.”
Was he looking for a reason not to do this? Had she read him that wrong? She pulled her hand back. “It’s okay. Let’s just forget I said that. It was a stupid—”
He leaned in, put a hand behind her head to draw her close, and kissed her. It was a hot, open-mouthed kiss that left no doubt as to what he wanted. When he lifted his head, they were both breathing faster.
“It’s not a stupid idea. It’s the best one I’ve heard in years. But without a condom...” His palm cupped her face. “Ember, you’re the doctor. We need to be smart.”
“Who says we don’t have a condom?”
Heat leapt in his eyes. “Seriously?”
“I guess I was thinking further ahead than I admitted, because while you were buying those dry clothes for me to change into, I was buying condoms from the dispenser in the washroom.” She met his gaze with clear eyes. “I wasn’t thinking about seducing you or anything like that. But it just seemed...advisable, given our history.”
“Ember Standish, you are freakin’ brilliant. But—”
“But what?” Still with the reservations? If he kept this up, she might back away from this madness. She probably should. It was crazy to think—
“My ankle,” he said, gesturing to it beneath the blankets. “As much as I want to make love with you, I’m not completely up to par here.”
That was what was holding him back? Just like a man to worry about performance issues. But it also melted her heart a little bit more.
“I see what you mean,” she said seriously. “You’re not exactly able-bodied at the moment, are you?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw and she almost ruined it by laughing.