by Mysti Parker
"You've got to be kidding me."
Just her luck. None other than Jesse himself stepped out of the truck, came up to her window, and tapped on it. Her face heated up, and her stomach rolled, a weird combination of excitement and dread. Staring solemnly ahead, she pressed the window button, letting in the hot June air, the screech of cicadas, and the mild, spicy scent of Jesse's cologne. She breathed a little deeper. Why did he have to smell so damn good?
"It's like deja vu. What's up, Leigh? Everything okay?"
She attempted a pleasant smile and met his gaze. His eyes were a gorgeous shade of blue, like the cloudless sky. "Yeah. I just got off work and..." She couldn't finish.
But he smiled softly and shrugged. "I happen to be off today. I took Pa to his checkup and didn't have any plans for the rest of the day except maybe some fishing. Care to join me?"
Jesse's raised eyebrows and slight smile exuded hopefulness. She'd already hurt him once, okay, more than once. She couldn't do it again.
Leigh released the breath she'd been holding and the smile she'd suppressed. "Sure. I'd love to."
His head jerked back as though he hadn't expected a positive response. "Um, okay, great. I'll just get Pa settled for a nap, and we'll hang out on the dock."
"Sounds good. But I can't stay long. It's my mom's birthday, and I'm taking her out."
"No problem." He flashed a bright smile and jogged back to his truck.
Leigh drove up to the house and parked the car, leaving plenty of room for Jesse to get his grandpa in and up the stairs. Before she got out, she took off her blazer and tossed it onto the passenger seat.
The old man lifted an arthritic hand in greeting. "Well, if it ain't 'not my girl.'"
"Excuse me?"
Jesse glanced at him, frowning. "It's nothing. You can come in or go on out to the dock if you want."
"I think I'll head out there, thanks."
"Okay, I'll bring us out some iced tea."
"Even better."
Leigh started around the house, but managed to hear his grandpa say, "I told ya she'd be back."
Her cheeks warmed, and the thought that Jesse had missed her enough to tell his grandpa about it brought on a smile. She slipped off her flats and let her feet sink into the cool, green grass while she continued down the gentle slope to the pond. The closer she got, the more her stress melted away. Who knew that some fresh air, sunshine, and wildlife could make her feel so good? When she was a little girl, going outside was often like going to Disneyworld—a rare and magical adventure. She reached the dock, wondering why, as an adult, she'd never appreciated how much nature could improve one's mood. She'd recommended it to most of her patients, but like many healthcare practitioners, she didn't always practice what she preached.
When she sat and let her legs dangle off the dock, she heard the swoosh and thump of Jesse's sliding door that led out the back of the house. She looked over her shoulder. He walked down the hill, carrying iced tea. The ice cubes clinked in the glasses. Her mouth watered, but not only for the anticipation of a cold drink. She remembered how Jesse's lips had tasted when she was here last time.
"Hope you like sweet tea." He handed her a glass.
"Is there any other kind?" She took it and sipped. Condensation had already beaded up around it, thanks to the hot June afternoon. "It's good."
"Don't tell Pa, but I put Splenda in his. He can't tell the difference, but if he knew, he'd turn his nose up at it."
Leigh laughed. "He's a feisty one, huh?"
"You have no idea." Glass in hand, he sat beside her and let his legs dangle off the edge. He wore a pair of khaki shorts and a blue University of Kentucky T-shirt. He'd taken off his shoes too. Their feet only inches apart, she noticed their differences. His white and callused with faint flip-flop strap tan lines, hers brown and smooth, made smoother with regular manicures. Their toes skimmed the water in lazy circles.
She raised her head to find him staring at her. "What?"
"Nothing. I was just thinking that you're really pretty sitting out here. The sunlight brings it out even more."
"I thought sun brought out everyone's skin flaws."
He shook his head. "Maybe you got lucky."
She held his gaze for a moment before looking out over the pond, memories flitting through her mind like the minnows that darted around her feet. "I wasn't always this lucky."
Jesse sat his glass on his lap, both hands wrapped around it, one finger tapping as though he wanted to speak but didn't know if he should.
"What is it?" she asked.
He took a deep breath and shrugged.
She leaned to her side, nudging him gently. "Come on, I'm your counselor, remember?"
He searched her face, a slanted smile forming on his lips before he sat his tea on the dock and braced himself with both hands palms down on the weathered wood. "Marge said you were really sick as a kid but don't like to talk about it. Just wanted you to know that I'm here if you need to get anything off your chest."
She smiled. "Now who's the counselor?"
"I just thought it could go both ways when I'm not paying for the hour."
Nodding, she had to chuckle at that one. After the tragedy he'd lived through, she didn't know if unloading on him would be a good idea. But she needed to talk to someone who understood the fine line between life and death.
She took a long drink of tea, letting the cold, sweet nectar quench her thirst and her nerves. "Marge is right. I had cancer. It's called rhabdomyosarcoma, if you want the proper term." Just saying the name of her childhood tormentor made her shiver. "Started with a lump here in my left arm when I was five." She raised her arm to show him the pale scar that still lingered on the inside of her bicep. "It affects the soft tissues and is pretty rare. Yay me, right?"
"That must have been a nightmare to live through." He rested his hand on hers. "But you lived. That's the important thing."
"Sure. I've been in remission since I was thirteen. It's just...when you fight it for so long, it never goes away in here." She touched her forehead. "Any headache, any pain, any anything makes me worry that it's coming back. Though it's not as likely now that it's been eleven years in remission, there's always a chance."
"You're a lot braver than I am. So, your doctor visits recently?"
"Migraines and dizzy spells, which you probably remember."
One side of his mouth tilted up, showing off his gorgeous dimple. "Yeah, can't say I regret that dizzy spell though."
She smiled back, flipping her hand so that her fingers intertwined with his. It felt kind of natural. "Dr. Kushman thinks it's long-term effects of the chemo. He's probably right."
"So, you never went to school or played outdoors?"
Leigh shook her head. "My whole childhood was spent indoors for the most part. My mom quit her job as a teacher to take care of me. Even after remission, I was considered 'high risk' for recurrence. So, there I was, stuck at home or the hospital for a few more years. I did meet my best friend, Avery, there. She had a traumatic brain injury, and we shared physical therapy sessions. Her family moved next door not long after that. My medical bills were so expensive, though, which I didn't understand back then. We had a nice place in Bardstown, but we went bankrupt because of all the bills and moved here when I was ten to a smaller, cheaper place. All because of me."
"It's not your fault. You didn't ask to get cancer."
"I know. They tell me that all the time, to not feel guilty, and most of the time, I don't. But sometimes I can't help but wonder what life would have been like without the cancer."
He scooted closer, lifting their joined hands to rest on his thigh. "You wouldn't have met me and turned me into a somewhat respectable man."
She smiled. "You did that yourself. I just gave you the tools to get it done."
"I'm not glad that you had cancer, but I'm glad I listened to the sheriff when he insisted I needed therapy."
Leigh looked back out over the pond, where a fish jumped from t
he water and splashed back down with ripples she could feel with her feet. "I've never dated anyone before." She swallowed hard and glanced up at him. His eyes had never left her face. "I've never loved anyone before because I...I can't have kids. They had to do a hysterectomy when they discovered the cancer had spread there. It's not fair to ask a man to give up his chance to be a father."
He squeezed her hand and spoke in a soft and gentle tone she'd never heard from him before. "That's for him to decide, isn't it?"
She made herself look him in the eye, even though hers were brimming with tears. "But that's not the only thing. If the cancer does come back, my chances are slim to none. I can't expect someone to be okay with that."
"I've seen death firsthand, Leigh. And the only thing common to each one was that it happens to all of us at one point or another. You just do what you can with the time you've got and don't waste it. Take your chances to be happy when they're in front of you."
"I've never taken chances on anything."
"Our whole lives are a series of chances. Every decision we make, even the little ones. We don't know one minute what will happen the next. If we keep asking what if, we miss the what might have been."
The tenderness in his words coaxed a tear down her cheek. She leaned against his arm and put her free hand on their joined ones, feeling his strong, warm knuckles on her palm. Then she looked into his eyes. Their kindness and steadiness gave her strength.
"You're right," she said.
He wiped away her tear with a gentle swipe of his thumb and cupped her cheek in his hand. "Will you take a chance on me?"
Before she could change her mind, she pressed her lips to his. He responded immediately, kissing her with the urgent need of a parched man who'd found water. His arm slipped around her waist, pulling her closer. Her breasts brushed against his chest. Every part of her throbbed with need. An ache spread from her core with a wet warmth that brought her back to reality.
She pulled away, placing a finger on his lips, though she longed to fully test their capabilities. "We have one more session. Let's finish that first and go from there."
He nodded and released her from his embrace. "Fair enough."
"I'll see you then."
He stood and offered his hand to help her up. She took it, savoring the strength in his grip for a moment, and got to her feet.
"See ya," he said.
She kissed his cheek, taking the opportunity to breathe in his intoxicating scent. "See ya."
For the entire drive home, she couldn't stop smiling. If this was what falling in love felt like, she wanted more of it. But she still had to be careful until their therapy sessions had come to an end. She was so close to getting her license and opening up her own practice, she could taste it.
Jesse's taste also lingered on her lips. She licked them, hoping there'd be more where that came from. He'd asked her to take a chance on him. For once, she thought it might be possible.
Chapter Nineteen
Just one more session. Jesse spun back and forth in the swivel chair at his desk, trying to wipe the grin off his face before the office staff caught on. It was hard to believe that only a few short weeks ago, he’d started something he never wanted to do in the first place. Now he couldn’t be more grateful that he relented and got counseling. And met Leigh. They had something, a real something. She hadn’t quite come around yet. Being afraid of love for all those years would be a hard thing to overcome. But he’d be there to help her along for whatever she needed. Because he loved her. Sure, he thought he’d loved Morgan, or at least could love her, but this time, he knew it. He felt it deep in his soul, this need to see her, touch her, talk to her, to be by her side for whatever life threw at them. Kids, no kids, didn’t matter. They could adopt. But he didn’t need to think that far ahead.
Jesse got some coffee to clear his mind so he could fill out the morning’s paperwork before he went in for his last session with Leigh. The sheriff walked by, head down, face scrunched in worry. That wasn’t like him. He was usually a morning person.
“Hey, Sheriff, what’s up?” Jesse asked.
“Uh…” He scratched his balding head and wouldn’t look Jesse in the eye. “It’s nothing.”
“Are you sure? You can talk to—”
That time he did meet Jesse’s gaze with a fiery glare. “I told you, it’s nothing. If I knew these therapy sessions were going to turn you into a touchy-feely guy, I’d never have made you go. Now if you’ll excuse me…” He stalked into his office and slammed the door behind him. The shades on the door window rattled against the glass.
“Well, damn,” Jesse muttered, turning to Clara, who really should have retired about thirty years ago. No one knew her true age. Jesse would have guessed eight hundred or so. She was busy filing paperwork at the pace of an elderly woman with bad joints.
“Hey, Clara!”
She didn’t respond.
He rapped on the desk a couple of times. No response. He tried pounding on it, which shook every item on the desk like an earthquake. His big glass award for excellent service, aka a fancy paperweight, fell and rolled off the desk onto the worn linoleum. It landed on the floor with a thud, not broken, but the sound was loud enough to get her attention.
Her gaze honed in on the paperweight, then slowly rose to meet his. “That glass phallus thing fell off. Didn’t you hear it?”
Jesse chuckled, stood, and came around to pick up the paperweight. “It’s not a phallus, it’s an award.” Of course, the more he looked at it, the more phallus-like it became. He picked it up and stuck it in the desk drawer. “Hey, what’s going on with Sheriff?”
She squinted up at him and pushed her glasses up on her nose. “Same as usual, I’d say. That hussy wife of his is probably out running around.”
“Hmm.” He glanced at Sheriff’s closed door—another unusual behavior for a decidedly open-door officer of the law. “That might explain it.” He didn’t mention that his own brother could have been one of the guys she ran around with.
“He’s too pussy-whipped to kick her ass out,” Clara declared.
Jesse glanced at the office door again. Still closed. Clara’s volume had been stuck in high ever since she started losing her hearing. She’d also apparently lost her profanity filter, or maybe she was so old she just didn’t give a damn. Luckily, the office didn’t open until nine o’clock, so no other witnesses to Clara’s potty mouth were around. Yet.
“Okay, I’ll leave him alone for a while. I have an appointment to get to,” Jesse said, relieved to be out of Clara-range for a while.
“Is that what they’re calling it these days?”
Jesse patted her shoulder and made for the exit, deciding not to be an accessory to her foul mouth. “See you later. Don’t hurt yourself.”
He looked over his shoulder before he stepped out. She had gone back to her file sorting, but she raised her bent and wrinkled middle finger, flipping a geriatric bird right at him. Laughing, he proceeded to his car. No amount of old lady rude gestures could ruin his mood today. He would see the woman he loved in just a few minutes, and after that, she just might be his for good.
****
Leigh met Jesse at her office door. Before she let him inside, she glanced around then whispered, “I don’t think I need to tell you how important it is that we pretend we aren’t, you know…”
“No, I don’t know,” he whispered back with a wink. “Tell me what we are.”
“Later, but behave, okay? Just for an hour. Please?” She blinked up at him with her big brown eyes, sending his heart into overdrive.
“Okay, I’ll be good. Maybe.” But with those plump red lips of hers so close, he had a hard time keeping his hands to himself. He stuck them in his pockets to make them behave.
She wagged a finger at him, but her smile gave her away. Her gaze swept over him before she whispered very quietly, “By the way, you look good in a uniform, like, really good.”
He grinned, then went stone-faced and d
eepened his voice. “Thank you, ma’am. Shall we get started?”
She pressed her lips together as though holding in a laugh. If she didn't love him, she at least really liked him. He kind of wanted to skip into the room as he followed her inside, but decided that would be too obvious, not to mention unmanly.
They settled in their usual spots in the couch and armchair. He took off his hat and set it on the side table. Leigh tipped her head to the left and glanced up to one corner of the wall. Jesse followed her line of sight, pretending to yawn, and saw the camera mounted there with a blinking red light. He gave a quick nod to let her know he understood they had to act completely platonic.
“Well, we’ve come to our last session, Jesse, unless you think you need more counseling. Let’s evaluate where you are compared to where you’ve been.” She picked up her notebook and pen and read from her notes. “In our first session, you weren’t sleeping well. How are you sleeping now?”
“Like a baby, ma’am. One that’s sleeping through the night, that is.” His voice trailed off, realizing he’d mentioned babies, a topic that might cause Leigh a lot of pain.
She glanced up at him while she jotted something down, but otherwise didn’t seem upset. “Good. We came up with a list of ten names after determining that you were feeling a lot of guilt over your past behavior.” With an apologetic frown, her eyes met his briefly. She cleared her throat and focused on her notes again. “We set a goal for you to apologize and do something helpful for each of them. Have you been able to address everyone on there?”
“I still have three left, but I'm planning on taking care of that today.”
“How about the others on your list? Were they able to forgive you? Did they appreciate your kind gestures?”
“Let’s see…” He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. Leigh wore strappy sandals and capris that showed off her shapely calves and pedicured feet. He remembered how soft and smooth her foot had felt when it brushed against his as they sat on the dock.
“Jesse,” Leigh tapped her pen on her notebook and flicked her eyes toward the camera on the wall.