Java Break (Java Cupid Series, Contributing Authors Book 1)

by Lynn Donovan

  “No, but they show up anyway.” She muttered. Rising from the couch she opened the door.

  Her dad stepped across her threshold and then halted. “Oh. I didn’t realize you had company.” He looked around the room. “Hey, you cleaned up!”

  Wendy sighed heavily.

  Dillon stood. Lance put out his hand and Dillon shook it. “I’m Lance Ashton, Wendy’s dad, and you are…”

  “Dillon Cayne, sir.”

  “Sir!” Her dad turned back to Wendy. “I like him already!”

  Wendy made exaggerated eyes at her dad. “So, you want something or are you just here to embarrass me?”

  “Oh!” Lance opened her door but didn’t walk out. “No. I just ordered a pizza and wondered if you wanted to come over for some.”

  “We’re fine, Dad.” She shook her head.

  “Okay, if you’re sure.” He glanced at Dillon, “You’re welcome, too. I ordered a large.”

  Dillon looked at Wendy for guidance. She shook her head. “Thank you, Mr. Ashton. But I think we’re good.”

  “Alrighty then.” Lance hesitated as if he wanted to say something else, but then tossed a wink at Wendy and left.

  “Yeah.” Heat filled Wendy’s face. “So, that was my dad.”

  Dillon nodded. A slight smile curled one side of his mouth. “He cares about you, a lot. That’s nice.”

  “Cares about me?” Wendy giggled. “More like smothers me to the brink of death, then releases the pillow and lets me get a breath of air.”

  Dillon sat back down, bracing his left arm on the back of the couch, and gestured for her to join him. She eased down next to him. He lowered his arm to her shoulder.

  His warmth calmed her frazzled nerves. Her dad’s intrusion faded. “I’m sure he means well,” she muttered.

  “My dad’s the same way.” Dillon stared at the opposite wall. “He tries to take care of me. But I stand my ground and make him back off. Ever since my accident, and then Mom’s cancer—”

  Dillon cleared his throat and fell silent.

  Wendy sat up straighter. “What about your mom?”

  Dillon stared at his lap a long time. Finally, he lifted his eyes. Tears had pooled there, but didn’t spill. “She died last year. It was a long, terrible ordeal. She had MS. Dad took good care of her, though. Now that she’s gone, I think he feels like he needs to take care of me.” Dillon made a gesture of a smile, but sadness lurked in every part of his face.

  Wendy wanted to make that sadness go away. Her eyes darted from his eyes to his mouth. She leaned into him, her eyes still flitting from his eyes to mouth, until she was too close to see anything but his eyes. His gaze held with hers and he pressed into her, consuming her mouth. She pressed even harder and wrapped her arms around his neck. He wrapped his right arm around her waist and pulled her against his chest. She lowered her hand and found the bottom of his t-shirt, slipping under, she gripped his abdomen. He gasped. His muscles hardened at her touch.

  He dropped his hand to the bottom of her shirt and ran it up the back toward her bra. He twisted the clasp and it sprung apart. His kiss deepened and his tongue sought hers. Her midsection ignited with fire and she wanted nothing but to have him.

  The doorbell rang.

  They froze.

  Her eyes darted to the door. She closed them and blew out air. Quickly reattaching her bra, she straightened her shirt and stood. A sultry look remained in his eyes, but he straightened and sobered. She opened the door.

  “Aw, come on!” Her dad said in a loud voice. “I can’t possibly eat all this. You kids take it.” He shoved a Pizza Hut box at her, and a two liter bottle of Coke.

  “Dad!” She bulged her eyes. God, he had bad timing! “Uh. Thanks.” She took the box and Coke, and shoved her dad back with the door as she closed it. She turned to face Dillon. He laughed. She had to giggle, too.

  “Want some pizza?” She busted out laughing.

  “Man.” Dillon wiped his hands and mouth on a napkin and lifted the empty pizza box. “You weren’t kidding about your dad.”

  “Here, let me.” Wendy took the trash and threw it away under her sink. “I know, right! Just wait’ll you meet my mom!” She rolled her eyes.

  “You mean, she’s worse?” He chuckled.

  “No, not worse, but just as bad. I take that back. Actually, Dad is the worst. He blames himself for my accident, couple that with their divorce when I was young. He’s riddled with guilt and just can’t do enough… you know?” She returned to the living room and eased down beside him. “I keep telling him that he’s not to blame,” She shrugged.

  “My mom’s dating a douche. First guy that I know of since she and Dad got divorced.

  “How long they been divorced?” Dillon took her hand in his.

  Her mind went blank with is touch. “Um. I—since I was thirteen. Let’s see… I’m twenty-two…”

  He kissed her fingers.

  “I can’t think, when you do that.” She pulled her hand out of his. “Um. Nine years.”

  “And this is her first time to date?” Dillon sighed and rubbed his collar bone.

  Did his shoulder hurt? Wendy nodded. “As far as I know.”

  Dillon smirked and one eyebrow rose. “Well, at least she waited a decent amount of time. My dad’s already dating some bimbo. My mom’s barely cold in her grave and he’s already hot-footin’ around. My biggest fear is he’s not thinking straight. You know? He misses Mom, and I won’t let him treat me like a child. So he wants somebody to take care of, I guess. But—“

  She tilted her head. “But what?”

  “Wendy, I’m not bragging, okay? It’s just the facts. My dad’s a lawyer. A successful lawyer. Basically, he’s loaded. And I’m afraid for him when it comes to his ability to discern a good woman from a gold digger. You know?”

  Wendy nodded. “Sure. That’s an awful short period of grief. I saw this thing on Facebook one time that was profound. It said ‘Everybody grieves the same. Only some do it before and other do it after the death.’ I guess since your dad knew it was coming, he did his grieving before… I don’t presume to know.” She stared at her hands. ”Take my mom, for example. When she and Dad split up, she went to a dark place and it was a couple of years before she came back. She’s great now. And actually, when she was telling me about this guy, she seemed really happy. I suppose that’s all I want for her. That and to get out of my business.” She giggled.

  “But you said he was a douche?”

  “Assumption on my part.” She giggled. “I haven’t met him, really.”

  “Same here.” Dillon smiled. “So, I guess since I came over here to study with you, we ought to at least crack a book open.”

  She stared into his crystal blue eyes. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. Although I liked where it was going before Dad brought the pizza.”

  Dillon smiled mischievously. “Me, too. But I really do have stuff I need to read.”

  She sighed. “Yeah, so do I.”

  They pulled their textbooks into their laps and snuggled next to each other. Wendy sighed with contentment. Studying had never been so much fun.

  She had five chapters to read in her Med Surg Nursing book before class tomorrow and a worksheet from the Obstetrics text. She read through three, highlighting important information, lifted the worksheet for something different to wrap her brain around, and began filling it out. Her eyelids grew heavy and she blinked very slowly.

  Dillon had laid his head back on the couch and breathed heavily. She goosed his ribs to wake him. He jumped way bigger than she’d expected. Oh, his ribs are still sensitive! How could she forget such a thing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Were you asleep?”

  “No, just resting my eyes.” He rubbed his side with his forearm and then massaged his collar bone with his thumb as he forcibly exhaled.

  “Well, I’m falling asleep. So either I’m going to bed and you’re going home, or I’m going to bed and you can stretch out on the couch. Either way, it’s a
fter midnight, and I’ve got a nine o’clock class in the morning. Not to mention my date with a perfect cappuccino at seven so I can get the rest of this monster read.” She patted the huge textbook in her lap.

  “Yeah, and I’m scheduled at the Cupid at five-thirty for prep… so I better go.”

  Disappointment washed over her, but she knew it was the smarter move. “Okay. See you tomorrow morning?”

  “Yes ma’am. Cappuccino, chocolate caramel drizzle—“

  “with whip.” They said together and laughed. He smiled and pulled her into a long and passionate goodnight kiss.

  She staggered when he released her and mumbled, “G-Good night.”

  Wendy’s alarm sounded on her phone and she sprung out of bed. Even though she’d been up late studying with Dillon, she tossed and turned in bed thinking about him and the way he kissed her. Sleep wouldn’t come for her, but thoughts about other things she wished she could do with him were front and center in her mind the rest of the morning. So when it was time to get up, she happily zipped out of bed and into the shower. Knowing he would be behind that counter when she got to the Java Cupid gave her energy she’d never experienced in the wee hours of morning.

  As she climbed out of her Jeep, she lifted her phone. Neither parent had called this morning. That was odd. Entering the Cupid her eyes spotted Dillon and she smiled. He caught her eye and returned the happy expression. Man, he’s cute! She took her place in the line leading up to Dillon. Her mind drifted to last night. The feel of his lips on hers. The tautness of his abdomen. She could feel his warm hand exploring under she shirt.

  “Wendy?” Dillon called to her.

  She opened her eyes. The line of people in front of her were gone. She stood four feet from the counter. “Oh. God. I’m sorry.” She quick stepped to the counter and leaned in. “I was thinking about us.” She giggled.

  He flashed that perfect smile and winked. “What can I get ya? Cappuccino chocolate caramel drizzle, with whip?”

  “Actually, I usually get a tall Chocolate Americano with caramel drizzle and the whipped cream. I don’t know what I was thinking the other day. You do things to my brain.” She giggled.

  He lifted on eyebrows. His voice was low and sultry. “I like doing things to you.”

  Heat filled her face and her ears burned. He turned to make her drink.

  “Wendy!” Dad called from across the café.

  She closed her eyes and drew in a calming breath. “Dad.” She refused to holler. Dillon set her cup on the counter. “Mr. Ashton.” He dipped his head in greeting.

  “It’s Lance, please.” Her dad shook Dillon’s hand. “Good morning, Dillon.” Lance had a twinkle in his eye.

  “What can I get you, sir?” Dillon asked.

  Lance looked at the line of people behind Wendy. “Oh I don’t wanna cut in line.”

  The older man behind Wendy who was reading a quarter folded newspaper looked up. “No, go ahead.”

  A soft grumble resonated behind him. Lance glanced back at the line. “Just give me a House coffee, black.”

  “You got it.” Dillon stepped back and filled a white ceramic mug with the Java Cupid logo printed on it. “There you go.”

  Lance tossed a ten dollar bill on the counter. “Keep the change.”

  “Dad!” Wendy glared at him.

  “It’s my coffee, I can tip whatever I want!” Her dad took her elbow to guide her away from the counter.

  She crunched her face in an apologetic expression to Dillon and let her father lead her to her favorite isolated booth.

  After they were seated, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

  He sipped his coffee, letting his eyes rove over the environment of this booth, at the back corner of the coffee house. “So, this is where you study?”

  She stared at him. “You already knew that. What’s up?”

  “So… I noticed Dillon stayed late.”

  “He went home around midnight.” She said flatly.

  Her dad nodded. “Oh.”

  “Is there something you want to ask me, Dad?” Wendy’s anger percolated in her gut.

  “No. I just—“ he sipped his coffee. “So how’s your leg?”

  “Hurts.” She pursed her lips. “Look, I really need to finish some things before class, is there anything specific you want to talk about?”

  “Yeah. Actually, there is.” Her dad stared out the slanted blinds. “I hear through the grapevine, your mother is dating.”

  Wendy stared at her dad. Really? He’s asking her about Mom? “What do you want me to say, Dad?”

  “No. I want what’s best for Patty. Don’t get me wrong. I—just—was wondering…”

  “Why don’t you ask her, Dad?” Wendy lifted her Obstetrics book. Two more chapters weren’t reading themselves while she sat here filling Dad in on Mom’s love life.

  “Oh, I will. It’s not a big deal.” Her dad finished his coffee. “I’ll let you get back to your studies.” He scooted out of the booth and glanced over his shoulder. “By the way.”

  She lifted her eyes from her book to him.

  “I like this Dillon. Try not to screw this one up.” He walked away.

  Her jaw fell open. She sputtered partial words, but nothing articulate came out of her mouth. She furrowed her brow and watched him exit the coffee house. “Since when had she screwed up a relationship? Since when had she had a relationship to screw up? Who was he to talk about screwing up when he was the one who screwed up his marriage to Mom? Anger fumed in her chest. She sipped her coffee and forced herself to read the next two chapters. Her mind wasn’t absorbing the words. Her dad’s statement blocked anything from penetrating her brain.

  Why did he do this crap to her when she needed to study?

  FOUR

  “Saturday’s set.” Wendy’s mother texted her. “Red Robin @ Elizabeth & Franklin St. 7:00”

  “Yay!” Wendy slipped her phone back into her scrubs pocket. She hadn’t seen Dillon all afternoon. Did he work today? She didn’t know his schedule, for work or school. Just the Java Cupid, he worked the early morning shift. Maybe she’d see him at dinner break.

  That thought added a lift in her step as she set about her routine. Bed changes, baths, record vitals, get patients out of bed, put patients back in bed, and respond to call lights as needed.

  It wasn’t a bad job. And the nurses were wonderful about letting her watch or participate, supervised of course, in procedures that only the licensed nurses were allowed to perform. It was better than clinicals, because she got to work with real patients, doing real procedures, rather than simulations with anatomically correct robotic dolls. Today, Brenda let her put in Mrs. VanBuren’s foley. That was an experience!

  The dolls in clinicals were nothing like the real thing when it came to that particular procedure. She mused at the thought. IVs had been a challenge at first, but she had mastered it. Sometimes, Brenda Barnes, a seasoned RN, would call her to do it when they were having trouble getting one in. “You have the touch.” Brenda had praised her.

  Her phone hadn’t chimed all afternoon. Except for Mom’s text. She pulled it out anyway. Nope, nothing from Dillon. Should she text him? Did she really want to be that stalker-like? She bit her lip. She didn’t want to come across like that character in Boy Next Door. What if she just sent a casual, Hey, how are you? sort of text? That wouldn’t be too stalkery… would it?

  A copper-metallic taste registered on her tongue. Oh, gosh! She had bit into her lip. Scurrying to the nurses’ station she looked in the mirror. It wasn’t bad. She pressed a tissue to the wound until it clotted.

  Brenda’s dark complexioned face looked over her shoulder in the mirror. “What happened?”

  Wendy rolled her eyes. “I bit my lip.” She giggled. “I was thinking about Dillon.”

  “Girl!” Brenda laughed. “You’ve got it bad.”

  “I know. But he’s a really great kisser.” Wendy felt the heat flush her cheeks.

  “And not too hard
on the eyes, I’d say.” Brenda gave a sideways glare. A mischievous twinkle gleamed in her eyes. They giggled.

  Wendy rolled her eyes but had to agree. Okay, a casual text wouldn’t hurt anything. “Hey. How’s it going?” she texted.

  Immediately three dots blinked in a running pattern. “Good. With Dad. I’ll call U later. U off at 7?”

  Her heart soared. It was ridiculous how a simple text could do that. She responded, “Yep.”

  “K. Talk then.”

  “K” she texted. Lifting her eyes from her phone, three nurses, grinning like Cheshire cats, anxiously stared at her. “What?” Wendy’s cheeks blazed with heat.

  “Nothing.” They all scurried off in different directions, leaving her standing there alone.

  She shook her head. Her life was not her own.

  Wendy ran through the drive-thru of Burger King on her way home. A kid’s meal was cheap and would get her through the night’s studying. She opted for the healthier version with fresh fruit. She wondered how fresh could a little sack of sliced apples be if they never turned brown? How much MSG was on these apples?

  Curling up on her couch, the happy meal beside her and a textbook in her lap, she munched on the apple slices while she read. Her phone laid out on the couch, but no text messages from Dillon since the one earlier. Sadness filled her heart. But she had to study so she shoved that feeling aside and concentrated on the textbook.

  Her doorbell rang. She plopped the book aside and took long strides to get to the door. “Dad, I’m stud—

  Dillon stood at her door with a sack from China Jade Gardens. “You cooked!” She giggled.

  He lifted the sack and shook it slightly. “I did.”

  He set little boxes of food on her kitchen counter and shrugged out of his backpack. She followed him and pressed against his backside, wrapping her arms around his chest. He sighed, and twisted in her embrace to face her. Lifting a strand of hair from her face, he tucked it behind her ear. Placing both hands on either side of her face, he lowered his mouth to hers. Gently, at first, he kissed her. But their passion bloomed. His tongue teased hers and she fumbled for the hem of his shirt. Lifting it over his head, they fell back together. Her lips longed for his. She let her hands run over his taut chest. He cupped her breasts.