“So call someone. But not Autumn. I don’t think I could take rejection three times in a row.” He sighed exaggeratedly, knowing he would make her laugh.
He was right. “Poor baby,” Pam crooned when the laughter had died away. “Would a big slice of my cherry cheesecake make you feel better?”
Jeff grinned. “I’m sure it would,” he said eagerly.
“Hey, I could use some cheering up myself,” Bob added quickly.
“Put the baby to bed and I’ll cut you a slice,” Pam replied. She patted Jeff’s head maternally as she stood, though she was only two years older than his thirty-three. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Jeff, honey. Pam will take care of it.”
“Now that makes me worry,” Jeff answered hastily. Anytime her Georgia accent got so heavy that she called him “Jay-uff” and herself “Pay-um,” he could bet that she had some kind of scheme floating around in her brilliant head. “Pamela, promise me you won’t…” His voice faded as he followed her into the kitchen, knowing as he spoke that he was being ignored.
“DAMN THAT MAN,” Autumn muttered when she realized she’d been staring at her mouth in the mirror for a good three minutes after she’d finished brushing her teeth. It had been four days since Jeff Bradford had kissed her—assaulted her, she amended vindictively—and still she had the oddest tingling sensation in her lips whenever she thought of him. Unfortunately, she thought of him much too often. Like about a thousand times a day, she added glumly, sighing as she turned off the bathroom light.
Her huge Cincinnati Reds T-shirt flapped around her bare legs as she padded across the room and climbed into her narrow white iron bed. It was barely ten o’clock, but she’d had a particularly strenuous day at work, and she was tired. She wanted nothing more than to be asleep by the time her head hit the pillow. “Good night, Babs,” she told the fuzzy white miniature poodle who’d curled up beside her.
Twenty minutes had passed before Autumn finally acknowledged that she wasn’t going to fall instantly asleep. She wondered wearily why she’d thought tonight would be any different from the last three. Every time she closed her eyes in the darkness, she imagined herself being held once again in the arms of a dark-haired man with the smile of an angel and the kiss of a charming devil.
It might be easier to forget him if there was even the slightest doubt that she would ever see him again, she decided. There wasn’t. Dr. Jeff Bradford wouldn’t disappear easily from her life now that he had unexpectedly entered it. Her luck just didn’t run that way. She would see him again. And he would ask her out again. And it would be even harder to turn him down the next time. Because her lips still tingled four days after he’d kissed her. Damn.
If only she could have stayed angry with him for kissing her, for refusing to take her at her word when she’d refused to go out with him. Unfortunately, she suspected that she’d never really been angry with him in the first place but rather with herself for responding to him so dramatically.
She had to keep reminding herself why she should not go out with him. Those tingling lips were part of the reason. Never had she reacted to any man’s kiss in quite that manner. It wouldn’t take many of those kisses to have her dragging him off to bed. And conservative, reluctantly conventional woman that she was in some ways, she’d end up wanting more than sex from him. Before she knew it, she’d be sorting his socks and dyeing his underwear pink with her haphazard laundry habits. She could say goodbye to blissful independence, unconcernedly irregular hours, gourmet frozen dinners. Hello to slow, deadly suffocation. She’d been there before.
Steven had been blond, rugged and attentive. His slow smiles and practiced caresses had awakened Autumn’s teenage body to its first taste of desire. The fiery-tempered tomboy had changed into a passionate young woman madly infatuated for the first time. Despite the budding ideas of women’s liberation gained from her avid reading about “life in the outside world,” her small-town Arkansas Baptist upbringing had led her to consider it only fitting that back-seat experimentation should lead to an engagement ring given the night she graduated from high school.
Steven had been attending agricultural college at Arkansas State University, and Autumn had been content to do office work for a small electrical service in her hometown of Rose Bud while waiting for Steven to graduate. Or at least she had tried to be content, despite the ever-increasing surges of pure panic that assailed her whenever she allowed herself to contemplate a future in Rose Bud with two or three kids and a husband whose destiny was to take over the family farm and raise soybeans and grain. She kept reading—Cosmopolitan, Ms., other magazines targeted at young, single career women—kept fantasizing about doing something on her own, finding out what it might be like to build a life for herself. And kept trying to pretend she was happy.
Autumn wasn’t sure when the occasional bouts of panic had turned to outright rebellion. She remembered watching with growing envy as the electricians she worked for went off on jobs, patting her on the head and calling her “honey” as they passed her on their way out. She remembered the resentment that had begun to build when Steven had casually asked her to bring him a beer or fix him a plate at dinner, his attempts to tame her temper and natural independence. She remembered how hard it had been each morning to slide on that miniature diamond ring that felt heavier all the time. And she remembered the desperation she’d felt when both of her sisters had moved out, Spring to college in Memphis, Summer to college in Little Rock, leaving Autumn at home in Rose Bud feeling as if she’d never be able to escape.
She hadn’t eased gracefully out of the engagement. She hadn’t even been conscious of making the decision to end it. One summer evening just before her twentieth birthday, she’d attended a family gathering at Steven’s home. The evening had been intolerable, rampant with Southern farmer sexism and probing questions about Steven and Autumn’s plans for the future. Autumn had prepared Steven’s plate for him—just as all the other women had done for their men—and later had helped clean the kitchen while Steven had joined the other males in front of the television. The second time Steven had called for a beer, Autumn had obediently carried it to him. And then kept walking, straight out the front door and out of sexy Steven’s life for good. Two months later she’d been living in Little Rock, attending electrician’s classes one night a week at a vo-tech school while working as an apprentice during the day.
It had been five years since she’d broken up with Steven. Since that time she’d earned her journeyman’s license and had developed her independence to an art. She liked living in Florida, enjoyed working for Brothers Electrical while putting in the two years required between obtaining her journeyman’s license and taking the test that would earn her master’s license. Someday she would like to start her own electrical contracting company. Sure she was lonely sometimes, but not enough to jeopardize the life she’d built for herself.
She tried to tell herself that she was making too big an issue out of two brief meetings with an admittedly attractive man. She argued with herself that she could even go out with the guy without destroying her treasured self-sufficiency. After all, she barely knew him. Running from him in blind panic at this point was nothing more than hysterical overreaction. She went out with other guys, didn’t she? She’d maintained a healthy, normal social life during the past five years, though she’d never really developed a taste for casual sex. She was being an idiot to lie awake worrying about going out with a man she had only just met, may never hear from again. If she had any sense, she’d put him completely out of her mind, decide what to do when—or if he asked her out again.
And yet her lips still tingled.
She groaned and pulled the sheets over her head, completely covering both herself and her disgruntled dog.
AUTUMN WORE a rueful smile as she pushed open the sparkling glass door of the Tampa Pediatrics Clinic and stepped into the colorfully decorated lobby. The waiting area was crowded with mothers and children, even though it was the day after Thanksgiv
ing—perhaps because of it, she thought whimsically, wondering how many of the children had overdosed on turkey and pumpkin pie. She hadn’t been at all surprised to see Dr. E. Jefferson Bradford’s name printed in gold letters on the outside of the building, along with the names of two other doctors. But then, she’d been expecting to see his name since she’d been informed that the customer had specifically requested her services for this job. Dodging an active toddler on her way to the reception desk, Autumn told herself that she admired Jeff’s persistence almost as much as his nice bod.
She still had not come to a conclusion about what to do when he asked her out this time. Part of her wanted to accept, the same part of her that had been so relieved that he had not given up on her, though it had been three weeks and one day since she’d heard from him. The same part that tried to tell her that she was being ridiculous to keep turning him down simply because she was afraid of her powerful attraction to him. Another part of her was terrified of that same attraction.
The pretty brunette receptionist nodded when Autumn gave her name and company. “Oh, yes, Dr. Cochran said she wanted to see you when you arrived. She’s just finishing up with a patient, so you can go into her office and she’ll be right with you.” She gave Autumn directions to the office, then turned to greet a woman holding a feverish-looking child in her arms.
Autumn frowned a little as she walked down the hallway, pausing at an open door stenciled with the name Dr. Pamela Cochran. She’d expected to be taken directly to Jeff. Who was Pamela Cochran?
The office was cluttered in a rather organized way. The wall held diplomas and certificates, bookshelves overflowed with technical-looking volumes and file folders were piled haphazardly on the desk. A gold frame held a photograph of a smiling, dimpled baby. One of the fluorescent lights above the desk was out.
“Oh, hello,” came a melodic, very Southern voice from the doorway. “You must be Autumn.”
Autumn turned her head as a pleasantly plain woman with dancing brown eyes and frizzy brown hair entered the office. The woman—Dr. Cochran, Autumn assumed from the white lab coat worn over a blue cotton dress, a stethoscope dangling from a deep side pocket—was looking back at Autumn with a broad smile. And something else. Speculation? Curiosity? Autumn returned the smile automatically, wondering if Jeff had said anything to this woman about his two previous encounters with Autumn. “Yes, I’m Autumn Reed. You’re Dr. Cochran?”
“Sure am,” Dr. Cochran replied cheerfully. “I hear you’re a marvelous electrician—”
Autumn hid a grin at the number of syllables the woman managed to work into those two words. And she’d thought her Southern accent was heavy!
“So I asked for you specifically when I called your company. I wasn’t sure you’d be working on the day after a holiday.”
Autumn blinked. Dr. Cochran had called her? “Yes, I’m taking extra time at Christmas, so I chose to work today,” she explained, speaking without really thinking because she was still trying to decide why Jeff had not called himself.
“Lucky for us,” the doctor commented. “We’re having some trouble with some of our lights. Some of them are out, like the one above my desk, and then there are a couple that are blinking and making the most irritating buzzing noise.” She reeled off the entire sentence without once pronouncing a G.
Autumn had to smile at the woman then. “The ballasts need changing,” she explained, instinctively liking Dr. Pamela Cochran. “It won’t take long. I’ll try to stay out of the way while I work, unless you’d rather I’d take care of it after the clinic closes for the day.”
“No, that’s okay,” the other woman assured her. “I’ll have Kelly, one of our assistants, show you around. She’ll let you know which examining rooms are being used. We’ll all work around each other.” She gave Autumn a friendly, conspiratorial wink. “That way the clinic won’t have to pay time and a half for your services.”
“Very practical,” Autumn murmured. She definitely liked Dr. Cochran.
“Pam, I need you in room three. I’ve got a patient who’s going to need surgery and—Autumn!” Jeff stopped abruptly halfway through the doorway, staring at the young woman in the plaid cotton blouse and khaki pants, the ever-present baseball cap tugged over her auburn braid.
He hadn’t known she was coming. He had given up on her after all. Autumn swallowed her disappointment and tried to look nonchalant, though her heart was beating wildly in her chest. Lord, he looked good in his white coat, which he wore over a pearl-gray shirt with a maroon tie and charcoal slacks. She’d only seen him in casual clothes before. Now, with his crisp black hair neatly combed and his beautiful biceps hidden beneath the uniform of his profession, he looked…different. Dr. E. Jefferson Bradford. Autumn suddenly felt self-conscious, awkward.
And then he smiled, his delectable mouth parting to show his even white teeth and deeply slashed dimples, his blue eyes crinkling a little at the corners, and he was the Jeff Bradford she’d met at his house. Ridiculously young looking, sinfully handsome, even a bit shy. She smiled back. “Hi, Jeff.”
“Here to work on the lights?” he asked, and even his voice had changed. It had been harried, brisk, when he’d spoken to Pam as he’d entered; now it was husky, slightly intimate.
Cursing her light complexion, Autumn felt the color staining her cheeks. “Yes.”
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to help you this time,” he told her with a grin. “I’m rather busy.”
“I’ll manage,” she answered dryly.
“I’m sure you will,” he returned softly. He glanced back at Pam, who was watching them with unconcealed, avid interest. “Got time for a consultation?” he asked her, trying to sound stern.
“Of course,” Pam replied, unintimidated.
“Come on, then.” He glanced back at Autumn. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye,” he said, the words phrased like an order but sounding like a request. Particularly when he added, “Please.”
She nodded. He was giving her warning, she thought desperately. He was going to ask her out again. Why couldn’t she make a decision about whether or not to accept?
With Kelly as her helper, Autumn went about her job. Though she stayed discreetly out of his way, Autumn was able to observe Jeff at work, struck again by the change in him when he assumed the mien of physician. He was great with children, naturally. Gentle, patient, indulgent. He should have children of his own, she thought fleetingly, then deliberately blanked her mind as she tried to concentrate on her work.
When she’d finished and had carried her tools and ladder out to the truck, Autumn hesitated before seeking Jeff. As it turned out, it wasn’t necessary. He found her. “All done?” he inquired.
She nodded, fidgeting with her clipboard as she waited for him to issue the invitation she expected. She was not nervous, she told herself firmly. After all, even if she accepted, it would only be a dinner date. Pleasant, unthreatening, completely innocuous. She surreptitiously wiped her damp palms on the legs of her khaki pants, looking up at Jeff through her lashes.
Jeff had been watching her closely, suppressing an urge to chuckle when he realized that she was actually showing signs of agitation. He hadn’t thought it possible that there was any shyness at all within this supremely self-confident young feminist. Suddenly all trace of his own uncertainty disappeared. Would she be shy if she weren’t attracted to him at least a little? he asked himself hopefully.
She was so obviously expecting him to ask her out again. He had intended to do just that. He wondered what her answer would be this time. And then he wondered what her reaction would be when he didn’t ask. He had just changed his strategy.
“Did you have a nice Thanksgiving?” he asked, pleased when she gave a little start at the sound of his voice. She was nervous.
Autumn nodded. “Yes, thank you.” She and Babs had indulged in a frozen turkey breast and steamed fresh vegetables while watching a football game together on television. She had also talked by telephone to he
r parents and to her two married sisters, one of whom lived in California, the other in Arkansas. It had been a nice day, she told herself, ignoring the slight sense of loneliness that remained.
“So did I. Spent the day with my folks in Sarasota. Actually, though, I wanted to talk to you about something else.”
Here it comes. Autumn tried to make a snap decision, failing miserably. “What?”
“I’m considering installing new outdoor lighting, particularly around the pool. What would you recommend?”
Outdoor lighting? Was he serious? “I would have to see it before I could make a recommendation,” she answered slowly. “I haven’t seen your pool.”
He nodded. “Of course. I’ll call your company and try to schedule time with you next Thursday, if you’re not already booked up.”
“Fine.” She waited, but he said nothing more. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something. But what? “I, um, I guess I’ll see you later, then.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
Autumn carefully avoided looking at him as they walked together down the long, bright hallway. If his purpose was to confuse her, he had certainly done it. At the door she glanced up at him to find him looking back at her with a broad smile. “Goodbye, Autumn.”
“Bye, Jeff.” She stepped through the door he was holding for her, then paused when he said her name.
“Autumn?”
“Yes?”
“This could go on a long time. Until I run out of electrical ideas. Or money,” he added thoughtfully. Before she could answer, he had closed the door quietly in her face.
She stared blankly at that door for a long moment, then started to laugh. He was challenging her! He had just subtly let her know that he was going to keep calling her until she agreed to go out with him. He hadn’t given up on her!
Oh, Lord, she shouldn’t be feeling this giddy sense of relief. She shouldn’t be fighting the urge to dance back to the truck or to burst into song.
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