Gavin sat, rooted, eyes wide.
She let go of her bra, but crossed her arms over her exposed skin.
Holy Christ! Gavin slugged the rest of his beer.
Adrienne shifted her hold so that only one arm covered her breasts and downed her martini. She smiled and let her arms drop.
Gavin gulped his beer.
She took a couple pomegranate seeds from her martini and massaged the juice into her nipples, watching him watch her, while she licked her fingers. After a moment, she kicked off a shoe, slid her toes up the length of his leg, and kneaded his crotch.
Gavin groaned and leaned back.
“We’ve been flirting with the idea of us off and on for a lifetime. You ready to finally do this thing, baby?” She winked and ran her tongue over her lower lip.
Watching the hypnotic sway of her breasts, he made no effort to answer.
“I have an idea.” She picked up his phone, leaned in, slid her arm around his neck, and drew him close. “Smile.”
The flash surprised him. He blinked. Had she really just taken a photo of herself? Naked?
“Come on, baby, let’s get out of here.” With quick twists, she buttoned a couple of buttons and captured his hand.
They walked to the car as stars emerged in the dark sky. He leaned against Adrienne, allowing her to shoulder most of his weight. At her car, Gavin removed the keys from her hand. His fingers lingered. “Let me.” He clicked the lock then swung in Adrienne’s direction, grinning as if he’d done something momentous. He might be over his limit, and he might be an ass, but he could still unlock a woman’s door.
Adrienne peeled back her sweater, seized the front of his open jacket, and tugged. Her gaze met his for just a moment before she tipped back her head and opened her mouth to his.
He felt no tenderness toward her, but he’d take what she had so many times offered. Her lips were hot, expert but they lacked Jill’s kindness. He couldn’t help that his mind locked onto Jill. He tried to lose himself in Adrienne. He captured her hands and swung her up against the car.
She gave a throaty laugh, her eyes like slits.
Not Jill’s eyes. He let them drop suddenly and stepped back.
Her face shifted from pleasure to indignation
“Another time,” he told her with a disparaging smile, and headed in the direction he sincerely hoped would take him to his car. In the distance, he recognized his black BMW. He patted his pockets until he located his keys, clicked the lock, and slid into the car. There, he stared at a replay of his life. He saw Vivienne’s mangled body at the bottom of the ditch the night of the accident, Olivia with her head swathed in bandages surrounded by a battery of frowning doctors. And then he could only see her—Jillian. The last vapors of tequila-induced idiocy disintegrated.
Lucid, but certainly not sober, Gavin flipped open his phone to call a cab.
Chapter Nine
The mid-afternoon sun streamed in through the French doors of her bedroom as Jill stepped into the shower. She let out a deep sigh. The hot spurting jets attacked the creeping ache in her muscles. A shower followed by a nap to ease the headache that wouldn’t go away no matter what she tried, were the only things on her agenda. Anything else would have to wait. As the steam rose, the tension between her shoulders eased. What an altogether crappy couple of days. Would she never get over being disappointed by people?
The phone was ringing as she turned off the shower. Jill tossed a pale blue towel over her shoulder and tried to catch the call. It rolled to voice mail to join the mountain of calls that had accumulated over the past week. When the phone rang again, she ignored it, determined to close out the world in favor of a nap.
Just as she sank into blessed sleep, the doorbell rang. She had no interest in encyclopedias, vacuums, or life insurance. She didn’t want to be converted by a Jehovah’s Witness, or buy candy from the Boy Scouts. She just wanted to sleep. Sweet oblivion swept her away a second time. She jerked awake to spot Gage rapping on one of the French doors, her face pinched with worry.
Jill crawled out of bed to let in her friend. What now?
Gage’s eyes rounded. “You’re in bed? At this hour? Are you okay?” She picked up the towel Jill had dumped on the floor and hung it up in the bathroom. “I saw you drive up, but when you didn’t answer your phone…” She crossed her arms. “Did you know your voice mail is full by the way? I thought I better come over and check on you. I was hoping you’d go with me to the animal shelter. I saw an ad online for homeless pups and I just have to go see if there’s something I can do to help. Volunteer, or adopt one, or I don’t know…something.”
Jill crawled back into bed and pulled the sea foam-colored comforter over her body.
Her friend parked herself on the edge of Jill’s bed. “So, you’re not okay. What’s up?”
“Bad day. Headaches.”
“Have you taken anything?”
“Everything. Nothing’s working. Not even a hot shower,” Jill pulled the covers over her head to blot out the shooting lights.
“You poor thing. Give me your hand. Lay it flat like that. Relax your arm. Good.” She moved her fingers over Jill’s palm, wrist, and arm, applying light pressure. “Breathe.”
Jill breathed.
“No, not like that. Breathe deeply. From your diaphragm. I want to hear it and see your tummy expand.”
Jill breathed again, grateful for her friend’s help as the shooting pains began to subside.
“Better. Keep doing that.”
Twenty minutes later, head-ache-free, Jill had brushed her hair, swept it into a knot behind her left ear, and pulled on a T-shirt over low riding jeans.
Inside the sporty SUV, Gage slid open the sunroof. “Are you holding out on me?”
The sun’s warmth filled the SUV’s interior. “I might be.” She hadn’t said a word about sleeping with Gavin, but Gage had amazing powers of discernment, and the skill of a trained psychologist.
Gage started the engine and backed out of the drive. “Well, then it’s time to spill. What was Gavin Fairfield doing hanging around your door earlier today? And can I just say, he is one tasty view.”
Jill’s eyes widened. “He was at my door?”
Gage nodded. “Tall, athletic-looking, late thirties with a hint of salt and pepper on the sides. I take it there are new developments since we talked.”
Jill closed her eyes and almost gave in to tears. “It’s a long story.”
Gage accelerated onto the freeway. “Shelter doesn’t close until eight.”
As Jill took her through the last several days, Gage listened without interruption, maneuvering the SUV through the late afternoon traffic. “I can’t remember ever having had to make such a difficult call,” Jill finished.
Gage gripped the steering wheel. “Okay, so you said no to the daughter’s enrollment. But are you also saying no to a relationship with the father?”
Was she? Jill shrugged. “A relationship between the two of us didn’t come up.”
Gage frowned. “You think he was playing you?”
Jill’s breath grew shallow and her chest felt tight. “No, I don’t think so. He was so shocked, he couldn’t think beyond the moment. God, Gage, I just don’t know.” Jill smoothed away the hair from her forehead. “And then, Ross caught me this morning. He said either I reverse my decision or I could go in front of the board this afternoon, state my case, and let them tell me the inevitable…”
Gage’s jaw dropped. “The board would make you reverse your decision?”
A surge of anger almost brought back her headache. Jill nodded.
Gage smacked the steering wheel. “Damn, I hate hearing crap like this. I thought Ross had your back.”
Jill picked at a thread on her jeans and sighed. Me too. “This wasn’t his doing. The board president John Roberts called him last night.”
“Questioning your professional judgment?”
Jill shook her head and turned to her friend. “Nothing so lofty as that. T
he institute received a sizable endowment from the Fairfields.”
Gage’s mouth thinned, but she said nothing as she parked the SUV.
“And he reminded me endowments are in large part how my research is funded.”
“So, Gavin Fairfield used his influence and resources to buy his daughter’s way in. Did you take back your rejection?”
Jill pressed her fingers to her cheeks, hoping to manage the emotions that still roiled in the pit of her stomach. “No. I refused to subject myself to the humiliation of going in front of the board. Ross handled it.”
“Yup,” Gage agreed. “Sucky couple of days. Definitely time to hold puppies.”
Jill steadied herself against the depressing smell of the shelter as she breathed in antiseptic, dry food, pet deodorizer, and cat litter.
Gage disappeared into the dog kennels.
Jill wandered around until she ended up in a row of rabbits. She stared down at a long-eared, chocolate brown bunny, its pink nose twitching.
“Hey, pretty lady. You lost?”
She turned to see a man—fiftyish—in a pair of work overalls, hardly more than rags. ”Name’s Will.” He slung a wad of gray hair out of his eyes.
Jill cinched her jacket in tight, scanning his overalls for something that might identify him as an employee or shelter volunteer. “Why would you think I’m lost?”
Will blinked and stepped closer. “Because you ain’t a rabbit person.” He squinted and ran his gaze up and down her body. “Not a dog person either.” He squinted again, shoved more hair out of his eyes, and crooked his finger. “Got something you’ll wanna see, cat lady.”
Jill waved a hand. “I’m not in the market. I’m just here with my friend.”
Will glanced around. “I don’t see no friend. Just see you lookin’ all lonely and lost standin’ by these here rabbits. Rabbits won’t do it for you. Lemme show you the cats.” He reached for her hand.
But Jill shrank back. The last thing she needed right now was responsibility for the care and maintenance of an animal.
“Come on now, I won’t bite.” When Will smiled, his weathered face softened.
This shelter worker looked less like the kind of stranger mothers warn their children about, and more like somebody’s grandfather. Jill folded her arms. “No, really. But thanks. I’m just waiting for my friend.”
Will cocked his head. “Got a tiny white kitten with blue eyes. Poor little thing’s deaf,” he clucked. “Gonna be mighty hard for her to find a home bein’ deaf like that. Why there now, cat lady, what’re you cryin’ about?” His eyes widened.
Jill leaned against the row of rabbit cages and tried to catch her breath, tears squeezing out of her eyes. “I’m all right,” she managed through a tight throat. “ My sister died a month ago.”
Will smacked the back of his hand against his forehead.
“She had a white cat.” Tightness in Jill’s chest made her choke. “Blue eyes. Deaf.” She sat down on one of the cages. Her words rushed out, broken. “I was out of the country when Anna died. Her cat was old and going blind. They put down the cat before I could get back. I’d promised to take care of the cat if anything ever happened to Anna. But I didn’t because I wasn’t there. Not for Anna, and not for her cat.”
Will slid an arm through hers. “I tell you what, cat lady,” he said, guiding her down the hall. “I’m gonna take you over to one of them observatory rooms. You just sit there awhile and recover yourself. Okay, darlin’?” He opened the door to one of the stark rooms.
She grasped Will’s hand. “Can you stay?”
Will grinned. “I can do better’n that. Be right back.”
Jill plunked down onto the metal bench, her body aching from tension. How silly to pour out all her personal business to a stranger like that.
Will returned, carrying a cardboard box and set it down in the middle of the room. He opened the lid and out leaped a sleek black cat, landing on Jill’s lap.
The animal looked at her with the greenest eyes she’d ever seen, and then licked Jill’s hand.
“That’s Sydney. He’s ‘bout four. Very dignified and ya know what they say…if looks could kill.” Will wiggled his eyebrows.
A scrabbling came from inside the box.
Jill looked at Will, who grinned like a rascal.
“Well, wadaya know. Mebbe somethin’ else is in there. Go on, take a look.”
Sydney hopped down as Jill peeked in and saw a tiny white kitten with blue eyes, an exact miniature of Anna’s cat, AayKay. Her brain skidded into memories of Anna, no matter how hard she tried to stop it.
“Why did you name your cat AayKay?”
Anna’s mouth puckered into a secretive smile. She picked up a pencil and drew an A and then a K. “AK—Anna’s Kat.”
“Well, go on. Pick her up.”
Will’s raspy urgings brought her back to the present. Jill couldn’t resist. Her fingers closed around the linty white fur. “She’s so tiny.”
“Nigh onto six weeks. Her mama died last night. But Sydney here has taken a shine to her.” He jerked his head toward the black cat.
Jill placed the kitten on the steel bench. Sydney hopped up, caught the kitten by the scruff of its neck, and curled into Jill’s lap, his prickly tongue bathing the kitten’s face. Cat and kitten looked like the perfect representation of yin and yang. Outmaneuvered by two felines and an old man. “You’re a crafty one.” Jill accused.
Will’s craggy face cracked into a wide smile. “See, I knew you was a cat lady.”
Jill nodded, her fingers traveling back and forth between Sydney’s black fur and the kitten’s white scruff. “Okay, Will,” she said, grinning. “Show me what you recommend for supplies.”
Back in the car Gage asked, “What will you name them?”
Jill looked down at her lap and stroked Sydney’s fur. “I’d never change Sydney’s name, but the kitten…” She untangled the kitten from Sydney’s paws. The kitten hugged her open palm, staring back. A wave of tenderness washed over her and she whispered, “You are a wonder.”
Gage pulled into her driveway. “I think that’s a darling name.”
Jill frowned. “What is?”
Gage grinned. “Wonder.”
Jill set up a litter box in the laundry room. Satisfied, she cruised into the kitchen to put kitten food in Wonder’s bowl and adult cat food in Sydney’s bowl. Will said it usually works out but how will I ever keep them out of each other’s food?
Sure enough, Sydney dove into Wonder’s bowl and the kitten crawled into Sydney’s bowl where she promptly fell asleep on top of the dry kibbled bits.
Jill set a kettle for tea on the stove and popped a bowl of chili into the microwave. She selected one of her favorite chi blends, tapped the leaves into a tea strainer, and removed the water just as it started to boil. She set everything on a tray, tucked the kitten into her arm, and climbed to the loft where her wide surfaced desk waited, piled high with projects. Jill set the tray on her desk, and flipped on the fireplace, even though it was really too early in the season. She loved the ambience a fire provided, and sat at her desk with Wonder curled in her lap, to outline the next chapter in her new book as she ate.
Sydney leaped onto the desk and rolled over on his back, revealing his jet black belly.
Jill absently stroked Sydney and took a few bites of chili, as thoughts of the past several days settled around her like low-hanging clouds. Had Gavin simply been having his kicks? Had he seduced her as a way of coercing Olivia’s enrollment? She shook her head, rejecting the idea. Clearly he could just buy his way in, so he certainly hadn’t needed to resort to seducing her.
Besides, he didn’t seduce you. If anything, you made the first move.
Aware thoughts like these would get her nowhere, she finished her chili, sipped her tea, and was soon lost in her work. A soft knocking escalated to an insistent pounding before she could answer the door. With a small sigh, she headed down the stairs, nimbly avoiding the scanty little kitt
en that rollicked at her heels. Thinking Gage had forgotten something, she swung the door wide without looking through the peephole.
Gavin Fairfield stood on her step, his dark hair disheveled, and his erect posture slipping.
She clasped a hand over her half-open mouth. He looked altogether undone, and devastatingly male.
Chapter Ten
Gavin yanked at the knot of his tie. “I'm sorry—I tried calling—may I come in?”
She closed the door behind him. “Has something happened to Olivia?”
His jaw ticked. “She’s safe now but I don’t know what to do.” Gavin glanced around. “It’s Liv,” he repeated.
“Have a seat.” She indicated the sofa. “I was having tea. Would you like some?”
“Liv won’t stop crying, and she won’t come out of her room. I don’t know what to do.”
Gavin appeared not to have heard her. Jill worked to keep from showing her concern. “How long has this been going on?”
He glanced at his watch. “Started this morning. This isn’t one of her typical tantrums.”
Jill sat on the sofa. “Do you know what brought this on?”
Gavin sat next to her. “Something to do with starting school.” He glanced around and pointed to the stairs. “Loft? May I see?” He took the stairs two steps at a time without waiting for an answer.
When she caught up with him, he stood staring at her desk.
“You write?” He picked up one of her books.
“Yes, I have a series of children’s books designed to help children with TBI master their reading and visualization skills.”
“But this doesn’t look like a teaching aid.” He flipped over the book. “Ten weeks on the New York Times best sellers list. That’s a pretty good run.”
“Gavin, I know you’re distracted, but I can’t help unless you focus and tell me what’s going on. You were saying Olivia’s upset about school? ” She fought to keep from saying, this is exactly why I didn’t recommend Olivia for admission. The pressure is too much for her right now.
Gavin put down the book exactly as he’d found it. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure where to start. This morning, Chapman called to tell me you’d reconsidered and agreed to admit Olivia into your program, after all.”
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