DAC_II_GenVers_Sept2013

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DAC_II_GenVers_Sept2013 Page 8

by Donna McDonald


  “Damn it, Jane. I’m not eligible,” Walter said, running a hand through his hair in agitation. He was going to kill his fire chief. He was going to use that big damn axe from his photo to do it. “You know I’m off the market. I was off the market the first time we talked for more than a few seconds. Why else do you think I asked you to marry me that first day?”

  Jane snorted and ate faster. Filling up her mouth so much she couldn’t talk seemed the best course of action. She shook her head, denying his words.

  Swallowing all the food she had shoved in turned out to be a slow painful process. Lovely. . .now she was being a self-conscious idiot. Over a boy. . .a child. . .over Mr. March. She was no better than those desperate women that had sent him the drinks.

  As she tackled swallowing her food, her gaze swung around to the table full of women. They all finger-waved and smiled at her. They weren’t even worried about her dinner with Walter, and Jane got why. She knew they were seeing just what she did every time she looked in a mirror. Those ten or eleven years between them felt like twenty or thirty to her.

  When she turned back, Walter looked in pain. Maybe he truly didn’t want all the attention. Maybe he wasn’t that kind of guy, but that was a really tough one for her to believe. Walter was young. He was good-looking. He had a body that couldn’t even be adequately described without using multiple adjectives.

  What could someone like Walter possibly see in someone like her?

  Other than the business guidance she could give him. He loved that.

  When the solution to their attraction dilemma popped into her mind, it was so incredibly simple that Jane was surprised she hadn’t thought of it sooner. If Walter could work alongside her for a while, their relationship would move into mentor-mentee land even more, and he would soon realize that they had little else in common.

  And if sex came up again. . .well, she’d cross that bridge with she came to it.

  “I’d give the next installment of my trust fund to know what you’re thinking right now. And since I need it to fund the rest of the reno, I’d rather you just tell me,” Walter said.

  Jane picked up her glass of red wine, took a drink, and swished it around in her mouth to clear it of the food that hadn’t gotten choked down already. After swallowing the only Dutch courage available at the moment, she put the glass back down and smiled.

  “Walter, I want to work with you on the North Winds renovations. All I want in return is credit. When you hit the newspapers, I want my share of the limelight too,” Jane said. “I’m not doing anything else right now anyway. This move just feels right to me. So what do you say?”

  Walter stared in shock. He had braced himself to hear many things, but what had come out Jane’s mouth exceeded anything his imagination had conjured.

  Work with her? She wanted to help him make his dreams come true?

  Emotion clogged his throat. No one other than Harrison had ever so much as even believed in his crazy dreams, much less offered to help. His parents were always trying to rein him in, as did pretty much every woman he’d ever spent any time with. But not Jane—his need to do seven things at once didn’t scare her a bit.

  There was an ache in his chest that slowly spread everywhere as he studied the top of Jane’s bent head, admiring the brunette strands he wanted to get his hands into. Maybe the pain in his body was why everyone kept saying that love hurt. He wanted to touch her tenderly. And then he wanted to make her scream as he slid inside her. He’d never had it happen before, but Jane was very inspiring. She made him think he could manage all kinds of things.

  “That’s an incredible offer, Jane. I’d love to work with you. I’d even be happy to pay you,” he said, mentally head-slapping himself for sounding so business like. But his instinct was warning him not to use the word ‘love’ in any other context at the moment.

  Plus, Jane looked all business.

  Head bent to her food again, she ate with the same kind of determination to finish something that had been in her voice. If she was thinking to finish with him any time soon though, she was in for one hell of a surprise.

  He watched her head come up as if she had heard him issue the mental challenge aloud. It brought a smile to his face and eased the pain in his gut. He had to believe she wanted him back as desperately as he wanted her. They were meant for each other. Every moment he spent in her company just made him more sure of it.

  “You can’t afford to pay me, Walter. But I don’t care because I want to do this. Maybe I wasn’t ready to leave North Winds. However, I do think we need to keep our relationship on just a ‘friend’ level, regardless of the current chemistry between us,” Jane said.

  “Which role worries you most? Being friends, lovers, or business partners?” Walter asked.

  “We will always be friends. ‘Business partners’ is not a problem because I finish what I start. But lovers, Walter? That’s not happening. I’m not going to be able to sleep with you knowing I’m competing with hordes of them,” Jane said, tilting her head sideways toward the table full of women. “After sharing my ex, I’m just not emotionally equipped to share another man. Blame my refusal on the emotional baggage from my divorce or the differences in our ages. Whatever you deem the reason, the bottom line is we’re not going be sleeping together. That’s as honest as I can say it.”

  “Jane. . .the men in my family. . .” Walter paused, reconsidering what he wanted to say. Probably best to keep Harrison’s theories out of it for now.

  “The men in my family have a unique view of the world. Maybe it comes from almost always being able to get what we want. Instant gratification has never meant much to me. I was taught to search for quality even when quantity is readily available. You are quality. You are the best, smartest, sexiest woman I have ever met. I want you in every way there is. That isn’t going to change.”

  “Walter. . .that’s just lust talking. You have a crush on me because you can tell I like you that way too. And I do like you. What woman wouldn’t? You’re intelligent, handsome, and have a good heart. Keep following that heart. I’ll dance at your wedding one day and maybe you’ll understand why this thing we have. . .,” Jane paused and motioned with her fork between them, “is just a passing flirtation. Working together will help us get over it. I should have volunteered sooner.”

  Walter picked up his fork and started to eat. Bullshit, he thought. Jane was scared. He was sure she was just having doubts about her appeal. . . or his desire for her. It was those damn women sending him drinks. He was definitely going to kill his chief.

  “I accept whatever terms you need at the moment. I want you in my life, and if working with me is all you want for now. . .fine. Let’s do that first. I can take matters into my own hands until you decide to take my matters into yours,” Walter said sharply, wincing only a little at her in-drawn gasp. “Just so you know. . .it will be you I’m fantasizing about during the process, not any of those women at that table, or any others that may come along. That’s as honest as I can be about my situation.”

  When he raised his head, he smiled at Jane shoveling food into her mouth as fast as she could.

  Chapter 7

  “How’s it going?” Alexa asked, whispering the question as she slid into a seat next to where her pregnant friend was sitting.

  Across a gorgeous swimming pool full of floating lights, she saw Jim talking to a tall, handsome man. His gaze came back to Lauren every few seconds to make sure she was staying where he had left her. Alexa knew Lauren’s constant dizziness and nausea had him worried this time. She hoped this would be their last child because of Lauren’s age.

  Lauren paused in lifting a second shrimp to her mouth. “I know what you’re thinking. Why does she keep eating it if it makes her sick every time? I think my forty-something body is punishing me for making it pregnant again. I’m craving the very thing that makes me barf. Sometimes I wish Virginia didn’t border the ocean. Maybe I could learn to crave something healthy then, like carrots.”


  “If I knew what to say to that, I would make all the comforting statements you need to hear, darling. Instead, I’m simply clueless. Is Jane enjoying herself as much as you are tonight?” Alexa teased.

  “I don’t know how much fun she’s having, but Jane’s been surrounded since she got here. How are there so many single men in Falls Church? Is there a club or something that no woman knows about? I sure couldn’t find this many when I was dating. I think the only man Jim didn’t invite tonight was Kenneth Adams. Jane said he’d picked her up after a bad date one night, but I don’t think he impressed her all that much after that. The thing he has for his car is bad enough, but Kenneth is too lawyer outside the office, if you know what I mean,” Lauren said.

  “No. Not really. I thought he was fun. But I’ve decided it’s best to embrace my lack of understanding while you’re in the process of incubating. Did she say if she kissed him?” Alexa asked.

  “Kissed who?” Regina asked, sliding into a chair facing Lauren.

  “Kenneth Adams,” Alexa said. “He and Jane are dating.”

  “No, that’s not what I said. I said they had dated, but she’s not. . .stop making things up, Alexa,” Lauren ordered. “Jane’s not dating anyone as far as I know.”

  Alexa laughed while Regina snickered. Lauren had been mean and mouthy since conceiving the second Gallagher heir. Regina usually caught the brunt of the pregnancy-induced bitchiness. Dr. Rat tended to smile widely when someone else took a turn.

  “Has our favorite fireman arrived to rescue Jane yet?” Regina asked.

  Lauren shook her head. “Mother called him over an hour ago. I don’t think he took the bait.”

  “Well, what is wrong with that boy?” Regina asked. “You and Jim went to a lot of trouble to set up this coup. He was supposed to show up and show Jane just how wonderful he stacks up next to most of the stuffed shirts buzzing around her tonight.”

  “Well, its not working that way for Jane, but tonight served multiple purposes. Jim says he needs to do more entertaining for his work. I don’t mind so long as he’s willing to pay for catering and housekeeping,” Lauren said, shrugging as she ate a third giant shrimp smothered in cocktail sauce. “It’s all I can do to keep my perfume kitchen clean.”

  They watched as Lydia came rushing out of the kitchen, her gaze raking the pool area until she saw them. She hurried to them almost in a run.

  “Where’s Jane?” Lydia demanded.

  Lauren shrugged. “Surrounded by men last time I saw her. What’s going on?”

  “Harrison called. Three firemen were hurt this afternoon. One of them was Walter. He’s in the hospital,” she reported.

  “Oh dear, I’ll check the living room,” Alexa said, trotting off at a fast clip.

  Regina stood and took out her phone, texting Ben and Casey about the need to find Jane.

  Frowning, Lauren went back to eating. “I’d help search, but if I move, you’ll never find her. Jim will have every man here surrounding me to make sure I sit. . .wait, that might work even better.” But when she started to stand, her mother pushed her back down into the chair.

  “Sit,” Lydia ordered. “You’ll just get sick if you move around too much. The rest of us will take care of this. You just take care of yourself and my future granddaughter.”

  Lauren’s sigh of frustration had Regina laughing, but she sobered quickly. “Which hospital is Walter in? I’ll call for a status. I’ll use my doctor voice.”

  “Inova Fairfax,” Lydia said. “I’m going to check the far wing of the house in case Jane took a walking tour with someone.”

  “Mom, he’s strong and young. I’m sure Walter’s going to be all right,” Lauren said.

  Lydia nodded, her hand absently going to her daughter’s shoulder. She was very lucky these days and didn’t take a bit of it for granted. “Jane won’t be the only one devastated if something happens to that boy. Morrie really likes him.”

  Lauren reached up and rubbed her mother’s hand. “We all do, Mom. We’re all rooting for him and Jane.”

  ***

  “Thought I would never say this to you, but it’s a damn good thing you have such a hard head,” Harrison declared, watching the nurse check Walter’s bandage for the third time.

  It was the concussion that should have concerned her, but the woman was using any excuse she could to get her hands on the rest of him. He’d already heard the whispering up and downs the halls. Mr. March, Mr. August, and Mr. October were all at least staying overnight for observation. Of the three, Walter was actually in the best shape, considering they had all escaped from a burning building that had collapsed.

  “I hate to ask this question, but does Mom know?” Walter’s headache increased just thinking about his mother’s panic. He was also pained at the thought of the lecture about the dangers of firefighting that he wasn’t going to be able to avoid. He still hadn’t apologized for hanging up on her. Now this close call was going to add to his sins.

  “Yes. It’s been on the news for several hours. Someone she knows was bound to call her, so I had no choice. They were out of town, so they’re flying in. They’re arriving on the red-eye tonight and coming straight here. Now buck up, boy. That bandage is likely going to shave several minutes off the lecture. You might throw in a moan now and again while your mother is looking at it,” Harrison suggested, willing himself not to fixate on what might have happened. Mr. October had two broken legs. He really couldn’t complain that his grandson had only gotten side-swiped with a few boards when the burning floor gave out.

  They both watched the nurse smile sweetly again at Walter before scurrying away.

  “I was supposed to go to a party at Jim and Lauren’s tonight. When the call came from the station, I didn’t have time to let anyone know I had an emergency. Have you seen my phone? They took it from me in the ER.”

  “No. But if you’re okay now, I’ll roll down there and try to find it. When they move you from room to room, everything gets lost. Last time I was in here, I ended up going home without underwear,” Harrison said in sympathy, patting Walter’s wrist. They had put in an IV just in case the concussion had turned out to be worse than it first seemed. It made him ill to look at it. Losing the boy was unthinkable.

  “Thanks,” Walter said, closing his eyes, trying not to relive the crashing building for the hundredth time. It was always like that. You thought about the firefights you lost for days. He had a habit of replaying them until he was involved in one that turned out differently.

  “Need anything else?” Harrison asked.

  “Does Jane know?” Walter asked, his sigh filling the room. He dreaded Jane’s reaction too, but he dreaded her non-reaction more. Based on their last conversation, he had no idea how much concern for him she would allow herself to feel. It was the biggest worry he had about being in here.

  “She probably knows by now. I sent word via Lydia,” Harrison replied.

  Walter nodded, lifting his hand to his bandaged head. “Thanks. Tomorrow she was going to start helping with renovations at North Winds. Now I guess that’s all going to have to wait a couple days. I hope she’s not going to be too disappointed.”

  “Walter. . .” Harrison paused in his lecture, wondering if he should warn his grandson that the last thing Jane was going to be worried about was work. In the end, he decided it was best to let the boy learn the hard way. The lesson would probably be more valuable.

  “I’ll make sure they let Jane in when she gets here. They’re being persnickety about who they’re letting in because of the all the press about this.”

  “Thanks, Harrison. I’m going to nap for a bit. They’re not going to let me sleep much tonight.”

  Harrison nodded as he rolled the wheelchair out the door.

  ***

  “Patient’s name,” the woman at the ER information desk asked.

  “Walter Graham. He was one of the three injured firemen brought in earlier,” Jane said, trying to keep her bottom lip from quivering. “If you cou
ld just let me see him for a couple of minutes?”

  “His information is still being protected. Orders are that only close relatives are being allowed to visit at the moment. Are you his mother?” the woman asked.

  Jane bit her lip until it bled. “No. . . I mean. . .Yes. Yes, I’m his mother,” she said at last, the lie seeming to roll out on its own.

  “Looks like he’s been moved from the ER to the fourth floor. He has a head injury and is being observed. Notes say he’s conscious and doing well, so I think everything is going to be just fine, Mrs. Graham.”

  Jane nodded at the news. She felt herself weaving where she stood. “He’s okay then?”

  “Well, head injuries have to be monitored, but yes. His records indicate he’s doing okay. If you follow the blue stripe down the floor to the elevators, you can ask the fourth floor nurse for his room number when you get there. Just tell them who you are. They’ll let you right in.”

  Jane nodded again, thanked the woman, and then backed away.

  He was okay. Walter was okay. A concussion wasn’t good, but he wasn’t dead.

  She lifted her head and saw Harrison in his wheelchair. Her mouth opened to call him over, but nothing could get past the lump in her throat.

  “Jane, I think you need to sit down a minute,” Harrison ordered, hitting the power button to get his chair over to Jane as fast as he could. “You look like you’re going to fall down. Walter was hard-headed enough to survive being hit. I’m not real sure about you.”

  Jane closed her eyes, opened them again. “I don’t even remember driving here. I remember Lydia saying Walter had gotten hurt fighting a fire. . . ” Her voice trailed off, then her foggy mind prompted her to ask the important question. “Is Walter really okay?”

  Harrison nodded. “Yes. Slight concussion. He’s more worried about not getting to work with you tomorrow than he is about being hurt. He caused quite a stir going to check on the others before he let the hospital treat him. One of the firefighters has two broken legs. Walter carried him out. All those muscles. . .he keeps them that way for a purpose, you know.”

 

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