Plain Jane and the Playboy
Page 15
Maria threw her arms around her husband, holding on to his thin frame for all she was worth. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, do you understand?” she demanded. “Never.”
“It was not something that I had planned, Maria,” José told his wife. He shivered when he thought how close he had come to never seeing his wife’s face again. “And I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Jorge.”
“Jorge?” she exclaimed. “Jorge was here?” she asked abruptly, looking around wildly for her son. It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d been in danger as well. “Where is he?”
Smiling, José tapped his wife on the shoulder then pointed, turning her attention to the kissing couple on the side of the ambulance.
“He’s fine,” José assured the woman who made his life worth living each day. “And you, Maria, are going to be gaining that daughter-in-law you have been wanting for so long.”
Amazed, Maria gave out a whoop of joy, throwing her arms around her husband’s neck and squeezing him with wild abandon.
“Finally!” It was then that she saw what was left of Red. Saw the smoldering remains of the restaurant that had been built up by the sweat of her husband’s brow. “Oh, José.” That was all she said, but it throbbed with an overwhelming sadness. And then she rallied, as she always did, and her natural resilience took hold. “We will rebuild,” Maria announced, “and we’ll make it even better than before.”
“Of course we will,” José agreed, draping his arm across his wife’s shoulders, already envisioning what the new, improved Red would look like, a phoenix rising out of the ashes of the old. “We need to have some place for the reception.”
Marie beamed, patting her husband’s chest with her hand in a comfortable, familiar gesture, the way she’d been doing for the last forty-one-plus years. “Yes, we do.”
The crowds that had gathered around the barricades, composed equally of the concerned and the curious, began to slowly disperse. The fire was contained. It had done all the damage it was going to and was no longer a threat to the surrounding area. There was nothing left to witness except for the tedious details of cleanup.
Two of the people who had been milling around the perimeter of the barricade were Ricky Jamison and Josh Fredericks. Like so many others who had been drawn by the sound of the sirens, they had hung around, spectators at the scene of the fire. Fascinated by the power of the flames even as they cheered on the firefighters in their swift, mighty battle to vanquish them.
But now it looked like it was all over. Nothing remained of the blaze but the acrid smell of smoke and ashes that stubbornly and oppressively hung in the air.
Even as the boys had looked on earlier, it was hard for both of them to imagine that a few short weeks ago, they had been inside, partying.
So much could change in a few minutes, Ricky thought. He was tired of hanging back, of waiting to gather his courage in order to leap into life’s pool. He’d already made a first effort.
Something he hadn’t told Josh yet. He grinned to himself. Wouldn’t Josh be surprised? And Jorge—Jorge would be proud of him, he thought.
Bored, Josh turned away from the barricade. He jerked a thumb to the scene behind him, dismissing it. “C’mon, there’s nothing left to see here anymore.”
Ricky took one last glance at Jorge, a bit of hero worship in his eyes. Even though he’d taken his first steps in the right direction, he was still envious of the man’s prowess.
Ricky turned to Josh. The wind ruffled his blond hair and ran up and down his thin torso. He hunched his shoulders against it. As he spoke, he did his best to sound nonchalant. Yet he could feel his heart speeding up and lodging itself in his throat.
“You know.” His voice almost cracked and he lowered it. “I asked Lizzie for a date.”
Josh glanced at him. “Lizzie?” He repeated the name as if she hadn’t been the topic of more than one conversation between them.
“Yeah, Lizzie Fortune,” Ricky said her full name, as if his friend didn’t know that the girl was part of his every daytime and nighttime dream. “I’ve had a thing for her for a while now,” he added, avoiding eye contact.
A smirk from Josh would have destroyed him no matter how much of a pep talk he’d given himself. He looked up to Josh and valued the older teen’s opinion as only a fourteen-year-old could.
“Jorge told me some moves to use and I used them,” he said proudly and then grinned. “They worked. She’s going out with me next week.”
Josh shoved his hands deep into his pockets and slowly began to walk away from the barricade. “You look very satisfied with yourself,” he commented.
Shorter than his friend, Ricky lengthened his stride to keep up, trying to maintain that air of nonchalance that Josh always had. “I am. Who knows, this could be the start of something really big. Lizzie might even fall for me.”
In response, Josh said nothing. Instead, he just snorted.
Ricky looked at him, confused. He thought his friend would have been happy for him. He’d cheered Josh on when he’d started going out with Lindsey.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he wanted to know, taking offense.
Josh shook his head. His expression seemed enigmatic and far away.
“Nothing,” he said dismissively. “Just be careful what you wish for, that’s all,” Josh advised. There was a distant look in his young eyes as he added, in a voice that was far older than he was, “Love isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
Ricky’s brow furrowed as he struggled to make sense of what Josh was saying. Why was he acting like that? Only one answer, he realized. “You and Lindsey having problems?”
Josh looked at him sharply. “I didn’t say that.”
“Well, what did you say?” Ricky wanted to know. He was confused and disappointed. He thought for sure that his friend would have been happy for him. Instead, Josh looked almost moody. Did he want Lizzie for himself? No, Josh liked Lindsey. They were a couple. Everyone knew that. That was part of what made him feel like an outsider. He wanted to be part of a couple too, like Josh.
“Nothing,” Josh said with a careless shrug of his shoulders. “I hope you and Lizzie have a great time together.” He dropped the topic. “C’mon. If you want a ride, I’ve got to get going.”
Ricky looked back over his shoulder at the cluster of people near the ambulance. “I feel I should say something to Jorge.”
Josh looked at his friend, puzzled. “You mean about Lizzie?”
“No.” What was wrong with Josh? Why wasn’t he focusing? “About the fire.”
This time it was Josh who looked over his shoulder. And saw Jorge kissing that woman he’d picked up at the New Year’s Eve party. The one that Ricky had bet him he couldn’t get so fast.
“He’s busy, Ricky,” Josh pointed out. “You can talk to him some other time.” Impatience filtered through his voice as he lengthened his stride. “You coming?”
Ricky picked up his pace to keep up with Josh. “Yeah.”
Two of the ambulances had already left. One had the woman Darr had rescued inside. The other had taken the busboy, Juan, to the hospital.
Like the rock he’d always been, José had remained where he was, with his wife and growing circle of friends gathering around him to offer their support and encouragement.
Jorge took the opportunity to draw Jane aside, away from the others. He held her hands in his and looked into her eyes, realizing that he would probably be content to go on doing that for quite some time to come.
But life went on and she had one that she’d left when the fire had broken out. He knew it was selfish of him, but he wanted her to remain right where she was, here with him.
“You have to get back to the school?” Jorge finally asked Jane.
The question nudged reality back into focus. Her eyes widened. ReadingWorks! She’d run out of there without so much as a word of explanation. They were all probably wondering where she was. Even so, she shook her head. Her place right now wa
s here—even if he hadn’t asked her to marry him. “No, I think they can get along without me for an afternoon.”
“Good,” he said, “because I can’t.” His hands tightened on hers, reflecting his feelings. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He’d never really explored what those words meant—and never meant them as much as he did right at this moment.
She laughed softly, shaking her head again. He might mean that now, but she was willing to bet he wouldn’t later.
“You’ll get bored,” she predicted.
There she was wrong, he thought. “No, that’s one thing I don’t think I’ll ever be.”
She really wished she could believe that. But there was a small part of her that was a realist. Life with parents who’d offered no encouragement had seen to that. “How can you be so sure?”
He told her the truth and bared his heart to her. He realized he’d never allowed himself to be this vulnerable before. But then, he’d never trusted another woman before the way he did her.
“Because I never loved any of the other women. I love you,” he declared simply. And then he grinned wickedly. “You still have that Heidi outfit you wore to the hospital?”
What was he getting at? Was he asking if she intended to continue reading to the children at the hospital? “Yes.”
His grin grew broader. “Well, that settles it. I will definitely not get bored.” His eyes were shining as he told her, “I’ve always wanted to see what it feels like to be a goat herder.”
And then she caught on. And laughed. “Right. You look just like a Swiss goat herder.” She ruffled his hair with affection as she said it. Who would have ever thought she’d get this lucky? To have this gorgeous, sexy man want her in his life?
Jorge leaned into her and whispered in her ear. “Use your imagination.”
His warm breath created warm ripples of desire all through her.
“I already am,” she answered just before she brought her lips up to his.
Jorge didn’t need any more of a hint than that. He’d always considered himself pretty quick on the uptake.
This time was no exception. His lips met hers as his soul gratefully slipped back into the paradise that only she created for him.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-2650-4
PLAIN JANE AND THE PLAYBOY
Copyright © 2009 by Marie Rydzynski-Ferrarella
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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