by Susan Meier
He heard the shiver of tears in her voice and wanted to curse himself, but really this was for the best. “You have plans for the day?”
She turned. “It’s Saturday. It’s my day to visit Jason.”
Not only had he unloaded on her when he could have been so much nicer in the way he redirected their relationship, but also he’d done it on the day she had to visit her fiancé. He’d known she was going but somehow he hadn’t put it all together in his head.
Great. Just great. He had such wonderful timing with her.
He lifted himself off his chair. “You go on. You shouldn’t have even helped me this morning. You should have showered and gone. This is the kind of stuff I don’t want you to do.” He tried a smile. “Okay? I want to be fair to you, but I also want you to be fair to yourself.”
She quietly said, “Okay,” and went to her room. By the time he was done rocking Sam back to sleep, she was gone.
* * *
Tory was so hurt, so wounded, she didn’t even turn on the radio of the old green car her mom let her use, as she drove to the personal care facility.
She understood what Chance had said. They were growing close. But she thought they were becoming friends. What was wrong with being friends?
Apparently a lot, since he’d basically told her that he wanted nothing to do with her—and it had hurt.
Really hurt.
It felt a lot like a dagger in the heart.
She’d grown accustomed to eating with him. She’d grown accustomed to chitchatting as they dressed and fed the kids. And, she had to admit, she waited for him to come home from work every night.
Like a wife.
She struggled not to groan out loud. She liked him.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Oh, how she liked him.
But he was right. There could be nothing between them. She knew that better than he did. Staying away from each other really was the right thing to do.
So why did it hurt so much?
By the time she got to the personal care facility, it was almost two o’clock. She wasn’t surprised to see Jason’s parents in his room. They visited from ten until two every day and were probably about to say goodbye until tomorrow.
“Hey.”
Jason’s mom, Emily, turned from the window. “Hey.” She walked over and gave Tory a kiss on the cheek. “We wondered where you were.”
Guilt snaked through her. If Chance hadn’t all but booted her out of the house she would have been even later.
Still, they’d had “the talk” and he’d made her see they were getting too close, closer than a boss and nanny should be when one of them was in a committed relationship. He’d done that favor for Jason as much as for her and himself.
So she wouldn’t wallow in guilt. She would simply handle things better from here on out. She smiled at Emily. “I have a job. That’s why I didn’t get here until now.”
Emily frowned. “A job?”
“Yes, I’m a nanny for twins.”
“Oh.”
Not understanding the censure in Emily’s tone, she quietly said, “Well, I don’t really have any education. So there aren’t many jobs I can do.”
Jason’s dad, Nate, ambled over. “I think being a nanny for twins would be fun.”
Tory smiled gratefully at him. “It’s challenging. That’s for sure.”
Emily pasted on a fake smile. “Well, if that’s what you need then I guess that’s fine.”
“I don’t have health insurance, Emily. Or my own car or even money for gas. My parents can’t support me forever.”
“You’re right, dear,” Emily said with another brief, fake smile. She grabbed her coat from the back of a chair. “We’ll see you next week then since you’re now busy on weekdays.”
She kissed Tory’s cheek, then Jason’s dad waved and they left, closing the door behind them.
She sucked in a breath, turned to face Jason.
If it weren’t for the tubes in his throat, she would simply think he was sleeping. His eyes were closed and his facial features relaxed. She swallowed, took a seat on the chair beside the bed.
“Your mother obviously doesn’t think it’s a good idea for me to have a job.” She shifted uncomfortably. “The nursing staff probably told her I wasn’t by all week. And she had all morning to brood. So when I told her I had a job, it probably made her even madder.”
She swallowed. “But I need a job, Jace. My parents can’t afford to keep me forever. And look—” She pulled up her pant leg. “It’s not pretty but it’s healed. I can walk. Even my therapies are over.”
She stopped, almost expecting him to say something. When he didn’t, she rose from the chair, fussed with the blankets, tucking them around him. She thought of tucking Sam in the same way and smiled. “I care for two adorable twins. Sam and Cindy. Cindy’s like a little peanut but Sam is built like a Mack truck.”
She walked to the window sill and arranged the flowers in the vase his mother brought every week. “Anyway, their father is very rich.” She leaned toward Jason and whispered, “He’s Gwen Montgomery’s son. I imagine the twins are going to be very spoiled.”
She laughed and wound her way around the room, straightening magazines, arranging things on his tray table. As she puttered, she regaled him with stories about the twins and Cook. She told him about Gwen watching the kids every day at lunchtime while she ate, and even Kate popping by some days at noon so she could play with the twins too.
“Imagine having so much money you can plan your day around playing with your grandkids or niece and nephew.”
She laughed. But the sound echoed around the room. Normally, she wouldn’t have noticed that, but she’d grown accustomed to noise and sound. To having someone to talk to. Someone who answered back.
And she’d blown that too, by being too obvious or too eager for Chance’s company.
Well, no more. As he’d said, there was no reason for them to be friends. They were boss and nanny. Nothing more.
When the sun set and the world grew dark, she unceremoniously left the hospital. Usually when she climbed into her car after a visit, she felt better for having seen Jason. Tonight, she only felt lonely, empty.
CHAPTER NINE
THE SATURDAY BEFORE Thanksgiving the sun was bright and the air was warm. Tory came out of her room to find Chance had fed the kids breakfast and Gwen was sitting at the kitchen table.
“Good morning, Tory.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Montgomery.”
She batted a hand. “Oh, pish on the Mrs. Montgomery stuff. Your mom and I are friends. You may call me Gwen.”
She smiled. “Good morning, Gwen.”
Gwen rose. “I’m taking these two little angels to the house this morning because I have a photographer coming by.”
Chance said nothing. He busied himself with the kids’ plates and a cup of coffee as his mother chatted happily.
Tory said, “A photographer sounds nice.”
“I want some good pictures of the twins to show off at bridge club. Kate is bringing her two kids over around noon so I can get pictures of them too, and so we can get some group shots of all my grandbabies.”
“Oh, that sounds really nice.”
“So you have the day off?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have plans?”
“I’m going to do the same thing I do every Saturday.”
“And that is?”
“She’s going to visit her fiancé, Mom, remember? He was hurt in the same accident she was hurt in. She visits him every weekend.”
Though she was grateful Chance had answered for her, his explanation was curt, blunt, almost rude, and it rubbed her the wrong way. Since their conversation about keeping their distance, he barely spoke to her. He shouldn’t have the right to act as if they were friendly enough
that he could speak for her.
Gwen laid her hand on Tory’s forearm. “I forgot. I’m so sorry, dear.”
“It’s okay.” She tu
rned toward the short hall that led to the nursery. “Let me pack some diapers for you and some outfits.”
“Don’t bother with the outfits,” Gwen called after her. “I bought a few things.”
Chance snorted a laugh. “A few things?”
But Tory kept going. By the time she came out of the nursery with the diaper bag, he was gone.
Which was fine. Their deal was not to speak, not to be friendly. She didn’t care where he went or when he went. She had her own life to live.
She helped Gwen get the kids in the strollers, then showered and dressed for the day.
But when she left the house and saw Chance sitting on the ground, by his motorcycle, polishing the chrome as if nothing were wrong, irritation thundered through her again at his attitude.
She marched over. “If you’re not going to talk to me, you shouldn’t answer for me.”
“My mom and I had talked a few days after the party and she knew about your engagement and Jason. I was just helping her to remember.”
“Great.” There was only one reason he would have talked to his mom about her after that party. “You told your mother you kissed me, didn’t you?”
“I asked my mother why she hadn’t told me you were engaged. There was nothing more to it.”
“Whatever.”
Suddenly she realized she was four inches away from his big black beast of a motorcycle. Chrome pipes, black fenders, white leather seats.
In her head, she heard the crunch of Jason’s motorcycle hitting the car that had pulled out in front of them, the shattering glass, the hiss of the sparks as the metal bike slid across the pavement.
Her chest filled with dread and she took a step back.
He looked at her, looked at the bike and his eyes narrowed. “The bike bothers you, doesn’t it?”
She wanted to say no. Or “none of your business.” Or almost anything other than what she had to say. “Yes.”
Wiping his hands on a rag, he rose from beside the chrome pipes. “So, go. Go see Jason. It’s your day off.”
But she stood there staring. And she wasn’t quite sure why, except that a bike like this had stolen her life. One ride. One minute. One second. And everything had changed.
“Tory?”
Her head snapped up.
“Are you okay?”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m just so damned tired of being afraid of everything.”
His voice was very soft as he said, “No one can blame you for being afraid of a bike.”
She pressed her lips together, then caught his gaze. “I suppose.”
“But you don’t want to be.”
She shook her head.
“I could give you a ride.”
She took a step back.
“Come on. If you were hurt in an automobile accident, you wouldn’t stop riding in cars.”
“This is different.”
“A bit, yes. But a fear is a fear. And you said you’re tired of being afraid.”
He held out his hand. She looked at it and looked up at him.
“This really is the only way to cure that fear.”
She slowly took the hand he extended. He pulled her closer to the bike, handed her a helmet and put one on himself. He straddled the fine white leather seat and motioned for her to slide on behind him.
She actually began to shiver. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
He quietly said, “Just climb on.”
She did. As her leg slid over the generous backseat, sensations and fears pummeled her. But she remembered the empty feeling she had every time she left Jason. The feeling that she had no life, had no one, nothing, except two parents and the adorable babies she cared for while their daddy worked. She hadn’t even been able to investigate schools because every time she tried terror would fill her. Just as she’d fought her parents about getting this job, she was now terrified about taking classes, studying, driving back and forth to school at night.
She needed to get beyond all of her fears, to start seeing the future as something more than a hollow void. She needed to see herself as strong, capable. She needed to stop hearing the crunch and screams of an accident that had happened five years ago.
She needed to do this.
She settled in as he started the bike. It roared to life, shimmied beneath her.
He turned and yelled, “Hang on,” then the bike shot forward and her hands leaped around his middle to keep her from falling off.
As they flew down the brown brick lane, the sounds of the accident roared in her head. Terror shuddered through her, paralyzing her. But she didn’t feel the force of hitting the oncoming car or the pavement. She stayed on the comfy seat, her arms securely anchored around Chance. Cool air flowed around her, the scent of it crisp and clean. Warm sun beat down on her.
Even as she began to enjoy the sensations, she clung more tightly to him, until she no longer heard the sounds of the accident. No longer felt fear. The sheer joy of doing something she’d always loved rolled through her, saturated her, lifted her heart and her spirits.
He drove the bike out of the driveway and a half mile down the quiet street. With her fears gone and the happy sensations filling her, she suddenly realized she was snuggled up against Chance. Her arms were wrapped around his waist, her cheek was pressed against his back. She could smell him, the combination of aftershave and man.
The feelings that rose up in her stole her breath. Not only was he solid and male, so wonderful to touch, but also he knew her. Jason’s parents wanted her to spend every free minute with their son, pretending everything was okay. Her parents wanted her to get on with her life and give up hope.
Chance saw her fear, helped her face it. Knew the real way to move on wasn’t to forget Jason but to reenter the world.
A wisp of something curled through her. Insubstantial like smoke, she couldn’t quite catch it but she swore it was a piece of her old self, the person she used to be, trying to rise up in her, nudging her to like Chance.
But she couldn’t. Not just to protect herself, but to protect him.
He stopped the bike in front of the cottage and she slowly slid her hands off his middle.
Regret filled her.
He turned with a smile. “Better?”
She laughed. As much as she hated that there could be nothing between them, she couldn’t stifle the joy careening through her. “Amazing.”
He climbed off the bike. “Will you be able to look at this without cringing now?”
“I may even be able to pat it a time or two.” Reluctantly, she lifted her leg across the seat and got off. As she pulled her helmet from her head, she caught his gaze. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
His eyes were the serious blue they’d been the day he’d arrived. Torn. Turbulent. The air between them crackled with electricity. He’d felt everything she’d felt in the five-minute ride. Connection. Joy. And probably the nudge that he should like her too.
She stepped back. He stepped back. She handed him the helmet, then she left to see Jason.
When she arrived, his parents sat on the chairs by the window. They exchanged pleasantries with her and suddenly they were gone.
And she was alone again.
She sucked in a breath and made a tour around the room the way she always did. Straightening the chairs by the window. Dusting the table between them.
“So, it’s Thanksgiving next week.” She didn’t feel odd talking to Jason as much as she felt empty when he didn’t reply. “I’m going to my mom’s. Chance—that’s the name of the guy I work for.” She paused to smile at Jason. “Anyway, he and the kids will be going to some big blowout dinner his mom hosts every Thanksgiving. Mom and Dad were invited, but I asked them if we could beg off. It’s hard working for a guy, living with him and socializing with him.”
She swallowed. Realizing how perilously close she was to admitting she had feelings for Chance, she quickly changed the subject and brightened her tone. “Besi
des, his mom loves time alone with the kids. With me being gone for four whole days, she will be in hog heaven.
“Not that she’d say hog heaven,” she quickly corrected. “She’s a bit formal.” But not too formal. She let her call her Gwen. And Kate was sweet and Max was funny. It was no wonder it was so easy for her to blend in with that family.
She cleared her throat and began telling Jason stories of the adventures of the twins. When the sun set, she grabbed her coat and purse and headed for her car. She wouldn’t let herself even think of how visiting Jason now felt like a job and playing with the kids felt like her personal life. She just got in the car and drove back to the cottage.
Thanksgiving morning, she helped Chance with the twins, barely speaking. With four days off, Jason’s parents would expect her to visit on Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. And she would.
She would.
But they would be long, quiet days.
When she let that thought form, guilt overwhelmed her. She was the one who had survived. He’d taken the brunt of their fall, probably deliberately to save her. And she considered spending a few hours a week boring?
How ungrateful could a person get?
When the kids were fed, bathed and dressed, she walked back to her room, as if by rote. She grabbed the bag she’d packed the night before, slid into her old denim jacket and headed for the door.
Chance popped out of the nursery as she walked by. “Hey.”
She turned. “Yeah?”
He reached in, grabbed the doorknob and closed the nursery door. “I wanted to talk to you before you go.”
Desperate need exploded in her. If he asked her to stay, would she? Even without a whit of personal conversation between them, she loved being with him and the babies. Her parents’ house was so quiet. Her life there just a constant reminder that she was alone.
“Do you need something?”
Retrieving an envelope from his shirt pocket, he said, “Because you were hired by my mom, you were on her staff payroll. We straightened that out this week, and I’ll be paying you from now on. But I—” He cleared his throat. “Well, I appreciate everything you’re doing for me and I thought I’d just give you the money I should have been paying all along.” He handed the envelope to her. “So, here.”