Accidents Make the Heart Grow Fonder

by Tara Mills

  Sabrina bit her lower lip. “I didn’t notice.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” His grin was so quick she almost missed it.

  The door slid open and they stepped in. Sabrina pointed at the panel of buttons. “What’s Street One and Two?”

  “Public space.” He drew his finger back from the button marked twenty-two. “You want to see it, don’t you?”

  She smiled apologetically. “Kind of.”

  He pushed Street One and they rose. The door opened to an interior mall, well lit, but at this time of night security gates closed off the dark businesses. They were the only ones there, walking past the coffee shop with overturned chairs on the courtyard tables. There was a salon, a UPS store, a gift shop and florist, a tobacconist. The escalator was going and they rode it up one level and continued to walk, looking in the dark interiors.

  “What’s up ahead?” she asked, perking up at the noise.

  “Sports bar.”

  “Oh.” She came to a stop and turned. “Do you come down here often?”

  “No.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Ready to go upstairs?”

  “Yes.”

  He swung out his arm, guiding her back the way they came. Bypassing the escalator, they hooked a left and walked over to the set of elevators. He pulled a card out of his wallet. Once they stepped inside the car, he swiped it through the panel and pressed number twenty-two.

  “You need a card?”

  “Security—only residents can reach the upper floors.”

  Okay, she loved this place, the whole shebang. It was fantastic. She could picture herself popping down for a coffee on a lazy Sunday morning, stopping for a magazine at that store by the escalator…

  “Say there’s a pool,” she said hopefully.

  “Top floor.”

  “Can I see it?”

  “You want to see it?”

  Her nod was so rapid it made him dizzy. Jackson laughed. “Okay.” He hit the button for twenty-five, too. Ignoring his floor for the time being, they rode to the top.

  Sabrina was out the door as soon as it opened. Jackson followed her to the wall of clear glass, and they looked at the large pool behind it. The underwater lights gave it an eerie blue-green glow. No one was using it now, but there were two couples relaxing in the adjacent hot tub. Beyond the pool and hot tub was an uninterrupted view of the city, floor to ceiling. Sabrina could imagine how it might feel swimming here with the illusion that you were about to swim right off the side of the building and into open air. The nightscape stretching out before them took her breath away. Too bad she’d slept through it the first time.

  “Do you ever get up here for a swim?” she asked.

  “Occasionally.”

  She smiled, picturing Jackson in his swimsuit. “Speedo?”

  “Trunks.” She snapped her fingers and he laughed. “Come on,” he said, coaxing her back into the elevator.

  He opened his apartment door and Sabrina surprised them both by reaching out and stopping him from turning on the lights.

  “Leave them off for a minute, would you?”

  The windows drew her across the large room. She didn’t need the lamps to move around the furniture because there was just enough light from the glowing city to outline the pieces.

  Sabrina stopped and gazed out, drinking everything in. It left her feeling incredibly relaxed, at ease. An hour of quiet meditation couldn’t have accomplished more.

  She looked so serene Jackson didn’t want to disturb her. He left the lights off and went into the kitchen to uncork a bottle of wine. Navigating by the light from the refrigerator, he found glasses and poured one for each of them. On his way to join her he stopped and simply looked at Sabrina in much the same way she was drinking in the view. She was lovely silhouetted against that backdrop.

  “It’s even better from the balcony,” he said softly.

  She turned and he approached, holding out a glass. She took it from him and smiled.

  “I don’t think I could ever get tired of looking at it.”

  “I feel the same way. Want to try it?”

  She took a sip. “Mmm, good.”

  He laughed lightly. “No, the balcony. Come on, let me show you.”

  She followed him out. The wind surprised her, lifting her hair, making her shirt flutter against her body. She wrapped her arms around herself and moved to the railing to look out and over. She didn’t expect the noise of distant traffic, the hum of lights, or the wind—so much wind—to be this loud. The thick windows blocked it out and held the cold night air at bay.

  She turned. “You don’t have any chairs out here.”

  “I know, I keep meaning to get some, but I never seem to get around to it.”

  “I noticed you don’t have blinds on any of your windows, either.”

  He shrugged. “I took this place because of the views, and since I’m facing north I don’t have to worry about the sun fading my furniture. I doubt anyone can see in here from those other buildings unless they have a telescope.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” She looked across the river to the distant building but couldn’t make out anything.

  He saw her shiver. “Why don’t we go back inside? I’ll fix us something. Are you hungry?”

  “I skipped dinner.”

  “Good.” He pulled the door open and they went back inside and to the kitchen. “Watch your eyes,” he said and turned on the switch.

  Sabrina squinted for a moment, letting her eyes adjust. “What can I do to help?”

  Help him in the kitchen? That was a scary thought. “Just keep me company. I’ve got this under control.”

  He went rummaging in the refrigerator, and Sabrina claimed a stool and took another sip of wine. Slowly a mountain of food grew on the counter.

  “What are you making?”

  “Homemade pizza. Anything you don’t like on yours?”

  “No fungus.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “I’ll live with it.”

  “How about olives?”

  “A few, but don’t go nuts.”

  He tsked and pulled a cutting board out of a lower cabinet and set to work, cutting an onion into paper-thin slices. Then he moved on to garlic, breaking the skin off the cloves with a hard blow to the flat of the knife. He minced it fine, releasing the aroma into the air.

  He turned and went into a cabinet for a dinner plate, then slid the onion and garlic onto the edge in little piles before he went back through his supply and fished out a head of broccoli. He cut off a few florets and sliced them down the middle so they’d lie flat. Those were scraped onto the plate, followed by two asparagus spears, cut at sharp angles along their lengths.

  “Peppers?” he asked, holding up a beautiful red specimen.

  “No, thanks.”

  He shook his head and proceeded to cut a little for himself. Then came a button mushroom, sliced thin, followed by the black olives.

  “This is a lot of work,” she said, amazed he was accomplishing so much so fast.

  “I don’t mind it. I get home late and I’m too wired to relax or go to bed right away.” He picked two Roma tomatoes out of a bowl on the counter and sliced them into neat rounds. Finally setting down the knife, he brushed his hands. “I think that’s it.”

  He put a large frying pan on the stove and drizzled olive oil into it, then lit the burner. She could hear the sizzle and smell the oil in the air.

  Taking the broccoli and asparagus first, he gave them a quick heat, and pulled them out of the pan. Then the onion went into the pan. Jackson turned on the built-in oven and went back to toss the onion expertly. He took a sniff and nodded, reaching for the garlic. That went in next, and he set the pan down to grind fresh salt and pepper over the top.

  “Here’s where I would have put in the peppers, but because you’re here I’ll skip that.”

  He pulled open a package of fresh spinach, scattered it over
the top of the hot onions and garlic, and added fresh basil and oregano. He moved those around rapidly, only cooking them enough to wilt the concoction before he pulled the pan off the heat.

  Going back into the fridge, he found a package of pita bread. “Voila! Mini crusts.” He set two on a cookie sheet and spread the contents of the pan equally over both.

  “Okay, now you can help,” he said with a smile. “Come on over and design your pizza.”

  Sabrina finished her wine and walked around to his side. He slid the plate of fixings in front of her, and they both went to work placing what they wanted on their individual crusts.

  “Mmm, this looks good,” she said, admiring her masterpiece.

  “Still needs cheese.”

  “How am I supposed to tell which one is mine?”

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  He sprinkled cheese over both pizzas, and as soon as he stepped away to put the bag back in the refrigerator Sabrina took a single slice of mushroom and one strip of pepper and laid them over the top of his pizza.

  “Problem solved,” she said proudly at his raised his eyebrows.

  He chuckled. “Okay, they’re ready to go in.”

  While they baked, he showed her around the apartment. “Bathroom,” he said, reaching in and turning on the lights.

  It was beautiful. The vanity looked like a fine piece of furniture rather than a cabinet. The colors were rich ruby and gold. Her new pillows would have looked great in there. Well, maybe not.

  “Do you ever use this bathroom?”

  “Not much, and never the tub or shower.”

  “I don’t blame you. If I had your bathroom I’d move into it. Set up my bed in the Jacuzzi and be perfectly happy.”

  He laughed. “You probably would. I saw that mattress of yours. Sleeping in a tub would make you feel right at home.”

  She gave him a disgruntled sniff. “Don’t hold my mattress against me. I can’t help it if the springs got damaged during one of my moves. If I could afford to replace it, I would.”

  “I knew there had to be an explanation. I won’t say another word.” He shut off the switch and moved down to the next door.

  Eyeing him speculatively, she asked, “Do you have a cleaning woman?”

  “A cleaning woman?”

  “Yeah, a cleaning woman.”

  He gave her a strange look. “No, I don’t have a cleaning woman.”

  She cocked a skeptical brow. “Seriously? You clean this place? I can’t picture you holding a toilet brush or scrubbing out the tub.”

  “It’s just me. I’m fairly neat.”

  He continued walking to the next door and flipped on the light switch. “My vacuum is in the closet over there,” he told her, pointing.

  Sabrina’s attention was directed elsewhere. “You have a gym?”

  He shrugged. “Just a few pieces.”

  She turned with a light laugh. “That explains so much.”

  He shook his head, not following her train of thought, but she was already walking over to his Bowflex. She set down her glass of wine and took a seat, reaching up for the bar.

  “Wait, let me help you,” he said rushing forward.

  But he was already too late. Her hand caught hold of the right handle, which sent the left handle swinging up and right into his jaw. There was a sickening thud of metal on bone followed by a loud clap of teeth colliding. Two sets of eyes connected, both wide with shock.

  Jackson stumbled backwards holding his chin. “But I had my three!” He moved his jaw gingerly from side to side, testing it.

  Sabrina shot to her feet. “Oh, no, I’m so sorry.” She wished she had the nerve to actually touch him, make sure he was okay, but she was afraid to risk it.

  “Three,” he repeated. “My car, my ankle, the body slam.” He counted them off on his fingers. “That makes three.”

  “Um,” she said reluctantly, “This makes five.”

  “Five?” His voice actually cracked saying that.

  “Well, if you count the soccer ball.”

  He tugged at his hair and stared at her. “I knew it. I should have remembered. Emma said you were there. That was you. I didn’t put it together. She was completely blameless.”

  Sabrina shrugged. “Sorry?”

  “How much distance do I need to survive you?” he asked. Then a look of actual horror passed over his face, and he trembled. “My god, I took you out on the balcony. What was I thinking?”

  “Hey!”

  Right then the oven buzzer sounded, and he took a deep calming breath. “It’s time to eat.”

  “You’re still going to feed me?”

  “Well, I can’t eat them both,” he muttered and swept up both wine glasses and drained them himself.

  Jackson made Sabrina sit on the opposite side of the table, the far end. She would have found it funny if she didn’t feel so crappy about hurting him all the time.

  “I swear this never happens to me. I don’t know what’s going on with you.”

  He nodded, unconvincingly, and took another bite of his pizza.

  “I mean it. I’m not kidding,” she said sadly. Well, she’d certainly blown it this time. There was no way he’d call her again now.

  Jackson set his slice of pizza down and closed his eyes, sighing deeply. When he looked at her he simply couldn’t ignore her misery. No question he was dealing with some physical pain, but she was carrying plenty of the emotional stuff. So which was worse? Honestly, it looked to him like she was suffering a hell of a lot more than he was.

  “It’s okay. I understand. I really do,” he told her.

  “Then explain it to me, because I don’t,” she said in exasperation.

  He smiled, amused despite his sore jaw. “I didn’t mean in that way. I meant I get it that these things aren’t happening on purpose.”

  She pushed her plate away. “That was really good, but I can’t eat any more.”

  He wiped his hands and dropped his napkin over the top of his plate. “I’ll take you home.”

  While they waited for the elevator she asked, “How do you afford this place? What do you do for a living?”

  “I’m the news director at KBHY.”

  “Oh,” she said, stepping into the elevator.

  He followed and the door slid closed. Jackson pressed the button for the right garage level, then turned and studied her speculatively. Damn, she looked nice, and sad. It tore him up to see her so miserable.

  “Would you stand there? Just…stand there,” he said.

  She frowned. “All right.”

  “Don’t move. Just keep your hands down, okay?”

  “Okay,” she said warily.

  He tipped his head to the side and smiled slightly, then advanced on her, cautiously, making sure he knew exactly where her hands were. He stopped right in front of her, so close their bodies almost touched.

  “Don’t move,” he whispered.

  Sabrina’s eyes went wide as he bent down and brushed her lips with his.

  It was electric—a buzz that sizzled the entire length of Jackson’s body. All he meant to do was satisfy his curiosity, perhaps give her a little reassurance, but now that plan was blown to hell. His hands flattened on the wall on either side of her and he felt himself pulled into her like she was gravity itself dragging him down.

  Sabrina’s head bounced against the wall as her chin went up, but she hardly noticed because his lips were sealed over hers, pulling, drawing hers out, and sapping her of coherent thought. She had to grip the bar behind her to keep her promise not to move because her hands wanted his ass, bad. It was a relief when the door slid open to the cool garage. Her knees were on the verge of giving out. She’d never been left so dazed by a simple kiss before—never. How could something so restrained pack such a mind-blowing wallop?

  Jackson drew back and stared at her in surprise. “Um,” he said and moved away, loosening his tie so he could breathe.

  “Yeah,” she agreed and walked out on wobbly legs.


  Heading to his car, she felt like she should be straightening her clothing or something, but there was no reason. He hadn’t even messed up her hair, and you couldn’t exactly kiss off your lipstick if you never put any on. So why did she feel like she’d just been thoroughly laid?

  Both of them were lost in private musings that oddly enough flashed repeatedly over the same themes of shock, alarm, wonder, arousal, and downright trepidation. The drive back to Sabrina’s apartment was as silent as the drive away from it. Jackson pulled right up to the front door, but she stopped him from unfastening his seat belt.

  “I’ll see myself in,” she said.

  “You sure?”

  If he didn’t want to be hauled into her apartment and ridden to the floor, then—yes. “I’m sure.”

  “Okay. Thanks for coming out tonight.”

  She gave a sharp laugh. “Yeah, it’s been another unforgettable experience.” She shook her head. “Can I just say something here?”

  “Now’s the time.”

  “I’m even more confused than I was before.”

  He sighed. “Me too.”

  “Good night.” Sabrina got out.

  She didn’t turn and look back. He was glad, though he waited until she was safely inside before he grabbed the top of his head and murmured, “Houston, we have a problem.”

  Chapter 17

  “You look like death warmed over,” Tanya said, falling in beside Sabrina as she walked into work the next morning.

  “I didn’t get much sleep.”

  “Fantastic!”

  Sabrina shot Tanya an impatient look, then cut over to the coffee pot and poured herself a cup, black, which she carried to her office. Tanya dogged her heels the whole way.

  “Don’t you have something to do?” Sabrina snapped at her assistant as she slapped on the lights over her desk.

  “Nope. I’m good.”

  Sabrina tossed her purse by its long strap onto her desk, where it proceeded to skate along the top and disappear over the other side. They both heard the contents scatter across the floor.

  Tanya bit her lip, trying not to giggle. “Bummer.” She peeked over Sabrina’s shoulder as she crouched to stuff her belongings back into her handbag.