A Home for the M.D.
Page 15
“It was no trouble at all,” she assured Meagan, hoping no one could tell she was lying through her teeth.
Meagan smiled wryly. “Right. Thank you anyway for everything you’ve done.”
“No problem.” She figured she had earned every penny of the generous bonus she had been promised in her next paycheck.
A short while later, she left the family to catch up while she returned to her newly renovated apartment. She had the next three days off, and she planned to enjoy the leisure time. It would be nice to be responsible for no one but herself for the long weekend.
Her apartment smelled like new, cheap carpet and adhesive, but she saw at a glance that the work had been adequately done. What few possessions she’d left there were still intact. The new flooring and a few new furnishings made the inexpensive furnished rental look a little more updated than when she’d first moved in. There was even a new laminate countertop in the tiny galley kitchen, she noted in satisfaction. The old one had been in pretty bad shape.
Her rent would probably go up when the lease came up for renewal, she thought resignedly. She hoped it would still be reasonable. This was a decent place to live until she found a house she could afford, which would be at least one more lease cycle.
She unpacked and put everything away, then settled onto the new plaid couch with her knitting. Her TV was small and she had only very basic cable, so she didn’t bother trying to find anything to watch. It was nice to just enjoy the quiet for a while.
It felt good to be back in her own place, she assured herself. Now that Seth and Meagan were home, everything could get back to normal. School would be starting again soon, and her days would settle back into a predictable routine of cleaning and shopping and laundry, picking up Alice after school, then cooking dinner for the family before returning here to her apartment. A comfortable, pleasant, generally stress-free schedule. Exactly the way she liked it.
Her sigh echoed in the silent room, making her frown in response to the plaintive sound.
“Stop being an idiot, Jacqui,” she muttered, forcing herself to concentrate on the intricate pattern taking shape between her rapidly moving knitting needles.
Her phone rang a couple of times that afternoon. Her friend Alexis called to reschedule their previous lunch plans for the coming Saturday. “I promise I won’t cancel on you this time. No matter what comes up, I’ll tell everyone I already have plans.”
Jacqui chuckled. “I’ll look forward to it. It’s been too long since we’ve managed to get together.”
“I know. I want to hear everything you’ve been up to lately.”
That wouldn’t take long, Jacqui thought, wincing a little as she disconnected the call. She could tell Alexis a little about the past two weeks, but she wouldn’t be comfortable sharing too much of the Llewellyn’s personal business. As for anything that had happened between her and Mitch—well, she wasn’t prepared to talk about that with her casual friend, either. She wasn’t actually close enough to anyone with whom to discuss her complicated feelings for Mitch, she thought wistfully. That was the sort of intimate discussion best held between the very dearest of friends—or sisters, perhaps, she thought with a pang.
Oddly enough, she thought she could talk to LaDonna about her confused feelings, had the circumstances been a bit different. LaDonna always seemed so caring, so levelheaded and accepting. Jacqui wished she could feel as comfortable turning to her own mother as she would be to her employer’s mom, if the current dilemma didn’t involve LaDonna’s own adored son.
Almost as if fate had intercepted that thought, the second call she received that afternoon was from her mother. Jacqui glanced at the caller ID screen with a wince, realizing that it had been almost two months since they’d last talked. “Hi, Mom. How are you and Dad?”
“We’re doing well, thanks, sweetie. We’re in Denver. We moved here last month and your dad has already found a good job doing maintenance for an apartment complex. I’m going to be helping out part-time in the rental office. In exchange, we get a free apartment and enough pay to provide the necessities. I think we’ll be staying here for a while.”
Jacqui had heard that before. She wondered exactly how long it would be before her father decided another pasture sounded greener. “That’s great, Mom. I’ve heard Denver is a nice place to live. I hope you’ll be happy there.”
“You’re still in Little Rock?”
“Yes. Still working for the same family. It’s going well.”
“I’m glad for you, sweetie. I know how you like your routines.”
Jacqui frowned a little, wondering if she’d just been subtly patronized, but she decided to let it go. There was no reason for her to take offense by anything her long-distance parent said. “Yes, I’m quite content here,” she said simply.
“Maybe you could take a vacation soon? Come to Denver to see your Dad and me? It’s been a long time since we’ve been together, you know.”
“I have got some vacation time coming. I’ll try to get out there for a few days.”
Assuming, of course, her parents were still in Denver when she took her planned two-week vacation time in October, a month she had chosen because it was a fairly slow time in the Llewellyn household. She wasn’t enthusiastic about digging into her savings for airfare, but she supposed she should make an effort to see her parents at least once every year or so, and it had been more than a year since the last visit.
“Oh, that would be wonderful. I know your dad will be happy to see you. And so will I.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Our apartment is only one bedroom, but we have a nice couch. You won’t mind sleeping on that, will you?”
“Of course not.” It wouldn’t be the first time she’d slept on a couch—or a pallet on the floor, for that matter. Her parents hadn’t always been able to provide enough beds for the four of them.
“So, what’s been going on with you? Are you seeing anyone special?”
“Not really. But I have friends. And I stay busy. It’s a good life.”
“Well—I’m glad. You, um, you know next week is—”
Her mother’s voice faded, but Jacqui was able to finish the sentence in her head. Next week was the anniversary of her sister’s death. She hadn’t needed that reminder. “Yes, I know.”
“She would want you to be happy, sweetie. We all want that for you.”
“And I am, thanks, Mom. I hope you and Dad are, too.”
“We’re getting by,” her mother replied vaguely. “I should probably go. We thought we’d go out for a little while this evening. There’s a nice little tavern nearby. Good music, nice people. We stop in occasionally for a drink.”
Probably more than occasionally, Jacqui thought, but that was their business, not hers. “Okay, well, have a good time.”
“We will, sweetie. Thanks. Um—talk to you soon?”
“Sure. I’ll let you know when I finalize my vacation plans.”
“I’d like that. I— Goodbye, Jacqui.”
“’Bye, Mom.”
Tossing the phone aside, she shoved a suddenly weary hand through her hair. She couldn’t help thinking of the lively conversations she’d overheard in the Llewellyn and Baker households—all the teasing and squabbling and I-love-yous. She did love her parents, she mused somberly, but such expressions of emotion had never been easy for them.
She glanced at her watch. Almost 6:00 p.m. She wasn’t really hungry, but she was too restless to sit any longer with her knitting. Setting the project aside, she rose, glancing toward the little kitchen across the room. She’d stopped by the grocery store on the way home, so she had a few things to prepare. Maybe she’d see if anything looked appetizing.
She had taken only a couple of steps in that direction when someone knocked on her door. Blinking in surprise, she turned. She was popular today, she thought, wondering who was dropping by unannounced. Probably the landlord, making sure everything was satisfactory. He’d been very grateful for her pa
tience during the renovation; because she’d had another place to stay, she hadn’t pressed for immediate action as she was sure some of her neighbors had done.
Glancing through the peephole from force of long habit, she swallowed a groan and rested her head against the door for a moment before opening it. So much for the relaxing, decision-free evening she had envisioned.
“Hello, Mitch.”
He stood in the open doorway, searching her face as if to decipher her reaction to his surprise call. “Hi. I got away from work a little earlier than usual today. I hope this isn’t a bad time for me to drop by.”
Without answering, she moved aside to let him in, closing the door behind him before turning to look at him. He was the one who’d shown up at her home out of the blue; she figured it was up to him to start whatever conversation he’d come here to have.
She was aware that her apartment was hardly luxurious, especially in comparison to the places they had toured last Saturday. She’d never visited his duplex, but it had probably been more upscale than this little furnished rental. Still, she refused to be self-conscious about her modest surroundings. The apartment was clean, the neighborhood lower income but relatively safe, and she could easily afford the rent and still put away savings every month. It worked for her.
His mouth quirked, as though he was amused by her rather challenging silence. “Okay if I sit down?”
So maybe she wasn’t being the most gracious hostess. That was his fault for showing up without an invitation, she told herself, even as she relented. “Of course. Have a seat. Can I get you anything? I can make coffee.”
He chuckled. “There you go again. You aren’t on the job now, Jacqui. No need to use your Mary Poppins voice.”
“Mary Poppins wasn’t a housekeeper—she was a nanny,” she muttered, vaguely embarrassed.
His grin widened. “Sorry. You’re the one who’s always making movie analogies. Guess I’m not as good at it.”
His teasing was making her relax a bit, as he probably intended. She motioned toward the couch. “Sit down, Mitch. Tell me why you’re here.”
Catching her hand, he tugged her down beside him when he took a seat. “I think you know why I’m here.”
She moistened her lips. “Not entirely,” she said honestly.
He reached out to toy with the ends of her short hair, a gesture that appeared to be becoming a habit for him. It seemed little more than an excuse to brush his fingers against her cheek, leaving trails of sensation behind. “Because I can’t stay away from you.”
All the differences between them flashed through her mind, all the reasons why this was such a bad idea.
He searched her face, probably trying to read her emotions. “We’re on your turf now,” he reminded her. “All you have to do is ask me to leave and I will. No argument.”
Despite all her qualms, all her logical, sensible warnings to herself, she simply couldn’t make herself utter the words that would send him away. Not tonight. She sighed lightly and leaned toward him. “Don’t go,” she murmured.
He had her in his arms, his mouth on hers, before she’d even finished speaking.
Neither of them was in a hurry. Jacqui, for one, had nowhere else to be. Tonight they didn’t have to worry about discretion; they had complete privacy here in her apartment. They took full advantage of that freedom.
They left his shirt on the couch when they moved toward the bedroom. His shoes were shed somewhere along the way. By the time they reached her bed, her jeans were on the floor. His mouth seeking hers again, Mitch reached for the hem of her knit top.
She had only a momentary qualm before she raised her arms to allow him to tug the shirt over her head. It wasn’t entirely modesty that gave her pause. Mitch’s gaze zoomed straight to the reason she had hesitated.
His touch was so very gentle when he traced the scar that crossed her abdomen. “Spleen?”
“Gone.”
“The accident?”
“Yes.” She had spent six weeks recovering physically from that surgery. She would never fully recover emotionally, although the pain had lessened somewhat with time.
She had to be careful of infections and take a few routine precautions, but otherwise, she could live a full, normal life without a spleen. A doctor had told her after the surgery that she was fortunate to have lost only that relatively unnecessary organ. Still half-crazed with guilt and grief, she had screamed at him that he was an idiot. She had lost so much more than a spleen in that accident.
Catching her face between his hands, Mitch brushed his lips across hers, the kiss so sweet, so tender that it brought a lump to her throat. His mouth moved lightly across her cheek and down her throat, his hands exploring her back with long, smooth strokes that were as arousing as they were soothing. Lowering her to the bed, he kissed her throat and then the rise of her breasts above her white lace bra. He touched his lips to the scar before returning to capture her mouth, unfastening her bra as he did so.
She was not busty, but he seemed to approve of the way her breasts fit into his hands. His thumbs rotated lazily, and she arched with a gasp of reaction. It had been a while since she had allowed anyone this access, since there had been anyone with whom she had wanted to share these intimacies. Her rapidly overheating body was letting her know just how much she needed this release.
Mitch had come prepared for lovemaking. She decided to wonder later if he’d been so confident that she would invite him to stay, or if he had simply hoped she would. Whatever the reason, for now she could only be grateful.
For all the reasons she had listed earlier of why they were so poorly matched, they were certainly an ideal fit physically. Their bodies moved together, meshed together as perfectly as if they’d been built as a set. Once again, she sensed no awkwardness or hesitance between them. Sure, there was a giddy, first-time excitement—and yet an odd familiarity at the same time, a sensation she had felt with him before. If she were the fanciful, romantic type, she would imagine they were meant to be together. Fortunately, she was more sensible than that, she thought, even as she drew him closer.
They climaxed together, their soft cries sounding in perfect harmony.
Propped on one elbow, Mitch gazed down at Jacqui as she lay beside him, both slowly recovering their strength. He loved touching her hair, he mused, brushing a strand from her flushed face. It was so soft and thick, the cute, choppy cut tickling his fingers. Some guys were obsessed with long hair, but he thought Jacqui’s style was perfect to best display her graceful neck and the pretty face highlighted by those big, dark eyes that could so easily mesmerize him.
He loved touching her skin, too, he thought as he allowed his fingers to slide down her throat to her shoulder. So warm and smooth and taut over her slender, toned body. The occasional splatter of golden freckles enchanted him. The scar that bisected her firm abdomen saddened him but made her no less attractive to him.
She opened her eyes and gazed up at him. Her expressions were becoming more readable to him, he thought optimistically. He thought he saw the lingering signs of pleasure there, physical satisfaction—and maybe a hint of the misgivings that were probably creeping back into her mind now that they had satisfied their desire for each other. Temporarily satisfied, he corrected himself, knowing he would soon want her again.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, her voice still a bit huskier than usual. “I could make you something.”
He almost told her that she was so damned cute, but he suspected that would get him punched—and she had access to a few too many vulnerable places at the moment. Instead, he teased lightly, “Always trying to feed me.”
She shrugged against the pillows, her own lips twitching. “That’s what I do.”
“You’re very good at it,” he assured her with mock solemnity. “You’re very good at everything you do,” he added, dropping a kiss on the end of her nose.
He was delighted when she giggled, the sound so rare he couldn’t help laughing in response.
“Not really.” He was perfectly content to just lie there for a while, savoring the aftermath of the best sex he’d had in…well, ever. “Are you?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Then maybe we could just talk for a while.”
He saw the faintest hint of nerves cross her face in response to his suggestion. He wouldn’t have been able to detect that a couple weeks ago. He liked to think he was getting to know her better despite her reservations.
“We don’t have to talk about anything that makes you uncomfortable,” he assured her. “We can chat about the weather, if you want. I just enjoy being with you.”
She smiled. “We don’t have to chat about the weather. For one thing, that’s too boring in Arkansas in August. Hot and dry with a chance of afternoon thunderstorms. Pretty much sums it up.”
Chuckling, he nodded. “Yeah, pretty much. Gets kind of boring, huh?”
She didn’t respond, exactly, but asked, instead, “What will the weather be like in Peru?”
He wasn’t sure what had made her think of his upcoming trip. “Somewhat cooler. It’s winter there, you know.”
“Yes.”
“I wish you could go with me. I guess it’s too late to make the arrangements.”
She frowned, obviously startled by his impulsive comment. “Go with you? To Peru?”
“It’s going to be a fun trip. Lots of hiking and sightseeing. I’d enjoy sharing it with you.”
“Like you said, it’s too late to make arrangements for that.”
He wondered if he heard a hint of relief in her voice that she wouldn’t be forced to make that decision.