The Closer You Come

by Gena Showalter

  A shadow fell over Brook Lynn just before Dr. Murphy claimed her attention.

  "Nice to see you, too, Miss Dillon," he replied.

  Jessie Kay hated doctors almost as much as spiders, and Brook Lynn could only blame herself. As much as Brook Lynn had cried before and after each of her visits, her sister had learned to associate medical treatment with anguish.

  Dr. Murphy was an older black man with a full head of silver hair and eyes the loveliest shade of chocolate. He was one of the most distinguished-looking men she'd ever come across.

  "How are we doing, my dear?" he asked with a warm smile.

  "Well. I think."

  "Good, good. Let's have a look at those vitals."

  The exam lasted only ten minutes or so, and as he checked her over, he explained how the tube anchoring the new implant to her ear canal hadn't adhered properly and had come loose, wreaking havoc on her whole system. From her equilibrium to actual brain activity. While knocked out, she'd even had a seizure. But she was on the mend now and could go back to her regular schedule upon her return home tomorrow, as long as she stayed off trampolines and away from jump ropes for the next several weeks.

  When Dr. Murphy left, she lumbered into the bathroom to clean up as best she could, which was actually easier than anticipated. Propped on the sink was a plastic bag filled with goodies. A washrag, hairbrush, toothpaste and a toothbrush. A ponytail holder, T-shirt and a nice bar of soap. She returned to the bed feeling ten thousand times better.

  Jessie Kay hadn't left from her spot and once again clutched her hand, as if she couldn't bear another moment of separation.

  "Thanks for the supplies," Brook Lynn said.

  "Do you seriously believe I'm that thoughtful?"

  "Good point. Who brought them?"

  "Beck, at Jase's order."

  Jase again. The man confused and angered her...but he also delighted her. What am I going to do about him?

  "I was so afraid," her sister admitted. "If I were to lose you..."

  "You didn't. You won't. You heard Dr. Murphy. I'm fine."

  "Yes, but for how long? You work too hard. You need a break. You deserve one."

  "We have bills. More now than ever."

  Jessie Kay shook her head, the first hint of a smile revealed, like the sun peeking out from behind dark clouds. "We don't. Jase is taking care of everything."

  What! "No. No, no, no."

  "Yes, yes, yes," her sister insisted. "You can bury your stubborn side in a cow patty, where it belongs. He's already paid the hospital bill. You think they'll give the money back to him?"

  She wouldn't be a drain on him. She would rather die. "They won't, but I will. I'm paying him back even if I have to get a third job." And a fourth one. "Even if I have to sell my organs on the black market!"

  "First, I call dibs on your liver. I could use a new one. And I'll expect a sisterly discount. But why can't we let him--"

  "I said no!"

  "Okay, okay. Calm down." Jessie Kay pursed her lips, as if she'd just sucked on a lemon. "I'll get a job."

  Please. Heard that before.

  "I know you're not actually speaking any words, but I don't think you've ever been ruder to me," Jessie Kay said. "Your eyes are saying plenty."

  "Well, I hope you're listening. They don't like to repeat themselves."

  "I'm listening, all right, and they have a seriously dirty mouth." Her sister gave her hand another squeeze. "So...did you talk me up to Jase?"

  Sickness churned deep in her stomach. "Of course."

  "Did you mention my ability to make any conversation about sex?"

  "Somehow that detail got left out," she said drily.

  "Well, it's time to put it in." Jessie Kay wiggled her brows. "See what I did there?"

  Brook Lynn rolled her eyes.

  "I'm going to marry that boy, you know," her sister said with a firm nod. "And I'm going to break him in like a carnival pony then ride him into the sunset for a happily-ever-after. For both of us."

  The churning and sickness grew worse. Marry him? As in, take his last name, sleep in his bed every night and have his babies, marry? "Why Jase? After the way he's treated you, the things he's said to you, why not pick, say, Beck?" Please.

  "Beck was a mistake. He's like an older brother now. Jase, on the other hand, is the white knight I want guarding my back."

  The moisture in her mouth dried. I can't steal a white knight from my sister. I just can't.

  Not that he was Brook Lynn's to steal.

  "We need him," Jessie Kay said. "He can make our lives better."

  He could. He was strong. Smart. Funny. Teasing. Passionate. Resourceful. Sexy. "Or he could make our lives worse." Am I trying to change her mind for her good...or my own?

  Once-bright cheeks turned waxen. "Do you not think I can win him over?" Jessie Kay asked with a tremor. "Do you not think I'm special enough?"

  Her sister's vulnerabilities didn't show up often, but when they did...I would rather have my heart ripped out by a zombie than see that look on her face. "I think you're the specialest. I know you think he doesn't know what he wants, and that you can show him, but are you sure you should try? Shouldn't a man be willing to fight for you? You are a prize, and if he can't see that on his own..."

  "Am I, though? Am I really a prize?"

  "I think so. Mom and Dad thought so. I mean, are you a total underachiever? Yes. But you're also smart and witty, and you sure aren't ugly."

  Her sister snorted. "Your compliments are like poetry." She fluffed her hair. "But you're right. I'm definitely a prize, and he'd be crazy not to want me. I will find a way to change his mind. Because I want him. Bad. I've never met a guy so capable and concerned, so willing to step in and make everything better."

  A flood of different emotions hit Brook Lynn, one after the other. Anger. Frustration. Worry. Sadness. Regret. Affection. Hope. More anger. Her chest hurt. Her temples, too.

  "I texted him a bit ago," Jessie Kay said. "Told him you were up. He'd like to see you."

  "No. Absolutely not." Can't face him right now.

  "But why not? He's your future brother-in-law."

  "Because," she gritted out, doing her best not to reveal her frustration with the term. "Just because."

  Jessie Kay hesitated, nodded. "Okay. I'll go tell him you're not up for visitors."

  "Thank you." Yes, she needed to express her gratitude to him for all he'd done. He'd gone above and beyond what was expected of a boss or even a friend. But with her sister's words clanging around in her head, she didn't think she could bear to be in the same room with him, looking at him, breathing him in. "Tell him, and then head home."

  "No, I--"

  "Yes. You need to rest, and so do I. Just...find me a notebook and a pen before you go. Please," she tacked on when she realized how rude she must sound. Warden strikes again.

  Jessie Kay shook her head. "Sorry, sister dear, but I'm here for the long haul. I'm staying, and that's that. I'll be right back." Before she left, she kissed Brook Lynn on the forehead. And, true to her word--for once--Jessie Kay did, in fact, come right back with a notebook and pen.

  Expression bemused, Jessie Kay said, "Dude. Jase does not like being told no."

  "Learned that my first day as his assistant." Her heart drummed erratically. With guilt or longing, she wasn't sure. "Did he leave?"

  "No. He's basically moved in to the waiting room, and it'll take a crane to get him out."

  He was that desperate to see her? Why?

  Palms beginning to sweat, she fluffed her pillows and decided to put him out of her mind. He'd leave soon enough. Surely.

  "Help me make a fun list," she said. Despite the change in her circumstances and the looming possibility of having to nail down a third job--whimper--she wasn't going to abandon her plan to enjoy life. Not anymore. But the list she'd made with Kenna had failed to inspire her, which was probably why she'd never made a real attempt to work through it. She needed a new one. One tailored specif
ically to her.

  Jessie Kay pulled her chair closer to the bed. "Ohhh. A fun list. You certainly came to the right person."

  "An expert."

  "Do you want X-rated, PG-13 or PG?"

  No need to think about it. "PG-13."

  "Boooo, hiss." Jessie Kay made a face and gave her a thumbs-down. "Mild wild girls don't have as much fun."

  "This one will."

  Jessie Kay tapped her fingers together, saying, "Well, the first thing you'll need to do is flash a room full of men. At a bar!"

  Ugh. The crowds. The music. Drunks who might grab what they shouldn't. "No, thanks."

  "Write it down," Jessie Kay insisted, pointing to the notebook. "Or I start counting."

  "Fine." She wrote "Flash one man, preferably a boyfriend" and said "I'm also writing 'hustle someone at pool and/or poker.'" While she wasn't the biggest fan of the skills her uncle had imparted to her--all those late nights in smoky pool halls and man caves learning with the best--she decided to take something that once pained her and turn it into something that amused her. Kenna was right. The past created who a person was, but shouldn't define who they could become. "Oh, and I'd like to attend a wine-and-cheese tasting."

  Jessie Kay's head fell on her shoulder, her eyes closed. She let out a loud, exaggerated snore.

  "Am I boring you to sleep?" Brook Lynn asked.

  Her sister peeked through her lashes. "To death."

  "Too bad for you. Because I have never been so alive." She wrote down "Drink whiskey straight from the bottle" and "Smoke a cigar." Oh, and "Learn how to properly fight zombies."

  The notebook was snatched out of her hand. Jessie Kay read what she'd written and gagged. "When did you become a Victorian maiden living in a paranormal-romance world? Should I write down 'learn to do the scandalous waltz while turning into a vampire,' too?"

  Brook Lynn grabbed the notebook and spoke aloud the next words she wrote. "Shave off all my sister's hair. Have a secret identity for a day, and host a mystery dinner."

  "Touch my lustrous mane and lose a hand," Jessie Kay said, fluffing the mane in question. "Honestly, you're seriously depressing the crap out of me right now. You need to add 'oil wrestling with a guy dressed like Tarzan.' Oh, oh, and 'holding a long, hard--'"

  Looking down at her list, she lost track of her sister's words. She wrote the dreams she'd had since she was a little girl...and a curious teenager. "Rescue a dog from a shelter" and "Dance for a hot guy, preferably the boyfriend I flash."

  Jessie Kay might have been the one to take ballet lessons, but Brook Lynn had been the one who'd yearned to spin and pirouette and dress as the swan princess. And, okay, sure, no guy on the planet would find her attempt at ballet sexy. But she could certainly perform some kind of naughty striptease.

  What would Brad think of this desire of hers?

  What would Jase think?

  She trembled.

  Nope. No. Not going there.

  Maybe she needed to forget the men of Strawberry Valley and say yes to the next citidiot who asked her out. He wouldn't be boyfriend material, but he also wouldn't stick around town and gossip about her lack of talent. Of course, he wouldn't settle for a few hip thrusts, either. He'd want all her clothes to come off and her backside grinding into his crotch until he reached a happy ending. Which wasn't actually a half-bad idea, except for that last part...and it would certainly stop Jessie Kay's snoring fit.

  A tap on her arm had her glancing up. Her sister's mouth was moving, but her gaze was not on Brook Lynn.

  "--be in here," she was saying.

  Brook Lynn smelled him before she saw him. Honey-and-oat-scented soap. Tingling and heating, she turned her head and found Jase standing at her bedside. His features were taut, his arms crossed; the muscles beneath his skin flexed. His clothes were wrinkled, proof he'd slept in the waiting room, unwilling to leave her.

  And I don't have the lady balls to talk with him? I suck.

  "Give us a few minutes," she said to her sister.

  "Are you sure?" Jessie Kay asked, looking nervous on her behalf.

  No, but she nodded anyway.

  After giving her hand a final comforting squeeze, Jessie Kay strolled out of the room and shut the door behind her.

  Brook Lynn drew in a deep breath and faced Jase. He wasn't peering at her, but at the wall over her shoulder. He plowed a hand through his hair and stalked to the chair Jessie Kay had vacated. She watched him, silent, unsure. Waiting, hoping. Dreading.

  Finally, the wait proved to be too much.

  "Thank you for paying the hospital bill," she said. "But I can't accept your money."

  That green gaze at last moved...and locked on her. His blank mask was firmly in place. "You refused to see me. Why?"

  She racked her brain for the proper response. Her reason had been a good one--Jessie Kay wanted him, and being around him only made Brook Lynn ache for what she couldn't have. She refused to lie, but at the same time she had to protect her emotions.

  "I'm choosing not to answer you," she finally said.

  "Are you afraid of me?"

  "Define afraid," she said.

  He didn't speak for a long while, and she began to squirm on the bed. Fought the urge to babble. Yes, I'm afraid of you. Of what you make me feel. Of what would happen if ever I fell for you.

  "You don't have a choice about the money," he said. How like him. He'd ignored her request and changed the subject. "It's already done."

  "I know, but I will pay you back."

  "And I won't accept."

  They'd see about that.

  "Tell me about your ears," he said.

  Suddenly self-conscious, she shifted on the bed. "Without the implants, I hear everyday noises at a higher volume than other people."

  "What caused it?"

  "I was born that way."

  "So you've suffered all your life?"

  "I used to wear earmuffs. They helped. And I realize I've missed two days of work," she said, changing tracks, "but you don't have to worry. I'll take care of your list tomorrow."

  He was shaking his head before she could finish. "No. You'll be resting."

  He was going to treat her like an invalid, wasn't he? "Are you planning to fire me?"

  He flinched, as though horrified by the thought. "No."

  "Then I'm going to do my job."

  "Then I'm firing you," he said simply.

  She sat up, grabbed him by the shirt collar and yanked him closer to her. As strong as he was, he could have resisted, and she wouldn't have been able to do anything about it. She leaned toward him until they were almost nose to nose.

  "Now you listen to me, Jase Hollister. My ears are messed up and unless there are extreme advances in medicine they will always be that way. Some days, like today, I'm totally deaf. Other days I can hear just fine. I have little machines attached inside and out, and sometimes they have flashing lights. People stare."

  His gaze dropped to her lips, and she shivered, almost losing her nerve to continue.

  "But that's it," she said. "That's the extent of my problem. I'll heal from this newest surgery, and I will work. I will do a good job. You will not baby me. Do you understand?"

  His eyes narrowed to tiny slits as he plucked her fingers from his shirt. Something about him...as if the icy husk he surrounded himself with was now melting before her eyes. Cold-blooded? Oh, no. This man suddenly burned.

  But when next he spoke, his tone gave nothing away. "You're saying I should treat you like a normal, healthy woman?"

  Should I be nervous? "Yes. Because that's exactly what I am."

  "Okay, then. That's exactly what I'll do." He let her go and straightened. He smoothed his clothes, gave her one last lingering look and strode from the room--leaving her trembling...and desperate for their next interaction.

  Despite his words--and his actions--something had changed in him. Between them. That look...

  What would he do when she showed up for work tomorrow?

  She c
ould hardly wait to find out.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  JASE RETURNED TO the hospital bright and early the next morning, purpose in his every step. He couldn't stay away a second longer, felt dragged by an invisible chain.

  He didn't pause at the nurses' station and didn't care if visiting hours had or hadn't started. He went directly to Brook Lynn's room, the private suite he'd ensured she had. The door was open, and she was perched at the side of the bed, looking fresh and clean with cheeks bright pink and her golden hair gleaming around her shoulders. She wore the T-shirt and shorts he'd had delivered for her.

  The shirt had come straight from his closet.

  The lingering effects of her illness had fallen away, and the sight of her arrested him. She was a beauty like no other, so it was little wonder he'd been on fire for her all night. Or that she'd awoken needs he'd never known he'd had--needs he would never again be able to ignore. To possess utterly, through any means necessary. To consume wholly. Not just anyone, but her. Only her.

  When she'd proudly proclaimed herself healthy, he'd almost pulled her flush against him and kissed her. But she'd looked vulnerable and hauntingly fragile, and he'd found the strength to walk away instead. The need to protect her, even from himself, had proved stronger.

  Now here she was, on the bed, looking as healthy as she'd claimed.

  He shut the door and moved into her line of sight.

  She gasped with surprise--and pleasure? "Jase!"

  He paused long enough to ask, "How are you feeling?"

  Warmth bloomed in her baby blues. "Totally racer ready. Just waiting for my discharge papers."

  "Good." He closed the distance, cupped the back of her nape and pressed his lips to hers.

  She opened with another gasp.

  No turning back now.

  His tongue thrust against hers, and hers reached tentatively for his. A groan escaped her, enthralling him, and just like that, he lost track of his surroundings, his intention to simply taste. His mind centered on only one thing: hearing that sound again.

  He urged her to her back, kissing her as if he would die tomorrow. As if she were the last girl he'd ever see. As if her lips held the answer to every question he'd ever asked. Supple and willing, she reclined for him. Her arms wound around his neck, bringing him with her, so that the hardest parts of him were lined up with the softest parts of her. All the while their tongues rolled and thrust in a white-hot tangle.

  He tasted cinnamon, a hint of strawberries. A heady combination, addictive when it should not have been. He'd tasted all three flavors before, but they'd never made him feel as though he was floating... melting from the inside out.