All of You

by Dee Tenorio

  Right now, being alone seemed the most foolish choice in her life. And fate was laughing at her for being so stupid.

  But Dory wasn’t alone.

  Remembering she’d promised to call her son, Jessica opened the wicker purse, looking inside for an address book or something. Unfortunately, Dory wasn’t as anal retentive as Jessica and the purse was a disaster. No address book, just a jumble of candies, makeup, notes, wrappers, perfume, car keys and business cards. With nothing else to do while she waited, Jessica unwadded the notes. A grocery list…unpleasant drawings of “Greggy” Groom with donkey ears and buck teeth…and two phone numbers on separate papers. One said Daniel: ’til Friday. The other wasn’t in Dory’s flowing script. It was in a flat, masculine print Jessica recognized with a jolt of her heartbeat: Kyle.

  She swallowed, tucking the other notes into the purse and putting the two numbers in her coat pocket. Since she couldn’t use her cell phone in the hospital, she let the uninterested clerk at the desk know that she’d be just outside the doors if there was any word. Then, she crossed back outside into the warm day and started dialing.

  Daniel Pierson, Jessica knew, had followed his father’s footsteps, a meandering biker. There was no guarantee the number would work or that it was even from this week, but she took a chance. The number was a friend’s house upstate and he had to be awakened. Upon hearing where Dory was, he promised he’d be there in a matter of hours and hung up before Jessica could even thank him. She closed her phone, leaning her head against the stucco wall behind the bench she sat on.

  Even the warmth of the sun did little to stave off the dread. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. She wasn’t supposed to be scared. She shouldn’t have this overwhelming need to cry or hold anyone’s hand. Even when she’d allowed herself to care, she’d been the one others leaned on. Not the other way around. Where was her distance? Her poise? When had Dory become more than an employee?

  She lifted shaking fingers to wipe away the splash of hot tears on her cheeks and tried to hold in a sob. It didn’t work. Worse, she knew what she wanted to do. The other piece of paper was burning against the hand in her pocket. She’d never had to call him before. He’d always just come along. He’d always done the reaching out.

  She’d done the sending away.

  She couldn’t call him. It would be too revealing in too many ways. He’d know he had a foothold in her life. He’d see it for the weakness it was. No, she might want him, might wish for his arms to give her that sense of comfort she never let herself think about, but it was wrong. Wrong for her, wrong for him. She couldn’t toy with the man. Couldn’t give him hope for his insane plans to turn her into Mommy of the Year. No. She’d have to get through this alone.

  For hours. Worrying until Dory’s son arrived. And if the worst possibility occurred, she’d have to tell Daniel that his mother didn’t make it.

  Her own heart constricted painfully and she struggled to bring in another breath over the choking sob.

  God help her, she couldn’t do that. Not alone.

  She picked up her phone again, closed her eyes and hoped she was making the right decision.

  * * * * *

  He shouldn’t speed. The last thing he needed was to end up at the hospital via an ambulance. His heart hammered all over his chest, making his ears pound and his lungs tight. She’d called him.

  Cool your jets, Lonnigan, it doesn’t mean much.

  But just that moment, it meant a hell of a lot.

  Kyle leaned into the last turn into the hospital parking lot, wishing things were different all the way around. He’d hoped that when she called, it’d be of her own volition, that she’d decided to give him a chance. But when she said what had happened to Dory with that break in her voice, their little push-and-pull game didn’t seem very important. He just wanted to be there for them both. It was a long way to go for a feeling that wasn’t returned, but here he was.

  And there she sat.

  Jessica wasn’t a small woman, but she looked like one, sitting in a row of empty chairs, her knees clamped together, her feet hooking around the thin metal legs. She was looking away, down at someone else’s kids huddled in blankets while they waited.

  “Jess?”

  Her head snapped up, turning to him with a faint smile of relief. He crossed to her, meeting her gaze and after a few seconds of nervous blinking on her part, she cleared two purses from the seat next to her by pulling them both onto her lap.

  He took the obvious clue and sat next to her.

  And sat.

  The silence between them seemed only emphasized by the noise of people constantly moving around them.

  “It seemed like a good idea…at the time,” she mumbled, still not looking at him.

  “What did?”

  “Calling you. I know I probably pulled you away from your work, I’m sorry about that, I—”

  “You were worried and you didn’t want to be alone,” he finished for her, studying her profile and willing her to look at him. She nodded, a staccato motion of her head that barely moved her hair.

  When she turned to face him, the movement was so sudden, so sharp, he instinctively lurched back. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, okay? I didn’t know who else to call.”

  He could only stare at her.

  “I’m not good at this.” She gestured between them, her hand nearly blurring. “I’m not good with people. Law, law I can do. I understand the law. It’s written in black and white. It makes sense. But you…you don’t make sense to me. And when I’m with you, I don’t make sense to me.”

  The more she spoke, the faster the words came. “Maybe I would have been this way anyway, maybe it was growing up in foster care. I mean, it was no picnic, but it’s not like it was Oliver Twist or anything, so I can’t say for sure, but I just don’t connect with people. It’s safer that way for everyone. No one gets hurt. No one has any expectations. I’m comfortable that way. I don’t want it to change. And you want change. You want a whole lot of things I can’t do. Things I couldn’t do in a million years. But I called you anyway. Because…because…I don’t know why. I just…I want you to be clear that calling you doesn’t change things between us. I can’t be in a relationship, Kyle. I can’t.” She bit her lips together, probably to stem the flow of words, but nothing was keeping her cheeks from turning bright red.

  Except maybe a little compassion. “You haven’t had an update?”

  She stared at him, clearly expecting something more. After a few seconds, she seemed to realize he was going to let it all slide. Did she understand that was a temporary decision? Probably not. And she wasn’t asking, either. She turned her eyes back to the desk, but he was glad to see a little relief in the stiff line of her shoulders. “No.”

  The silence fell again. Awkwardness started to seep in too. She looked so contained, with her feet, knees and hands clamped together in ascending pairs. Her mouth was just as clamped, the corners pulling down. She looked like the hospital could fall on her and she wouldn’t even flinch.

  But so fragile that if he touched her, she’d break.

  As if it never occurred to her that she had broken her own cardinal rule and started caring for her secretary.

  “How long have you and Dory been close?”

  “I’ve only known her a year.” She took a moment to marshal her pained expression. “When I met her I thought she was matronly.” Her mouth loosened a little and she sighed as she gave him a look he could only call commiserating. “She kept up the act for about three days. She cracked when Gregory Groom came in and complimented her on her hair.”

  Given Dory’s revelations just that weekend, Kyle could only imagine how that had gone. “What happened?”

  “She called him sweet cheeks and winked at him.” He finally saw a little color in her face again, her moist eyes brightening. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think he actually liked it. She didn’t get fired, anyway. But she figured the gig was up and made me her pet pr
oject.”

  “That explains a lot.”

  Her expression turned sharp.

  “Well, it explains me, anyway.” If Dory were trying to get Jessica to loosen up, dragging her into a relationship against her will was probably on the list.

  “I don’t think anything explains you.” A nervous chuckle escaped as she managed to cramp herself even smaller into the chair. Did she think he was going to attack her here in the hospital?

  “I’m not all that complicated. I’m an investment banker, which is a fancy way of saying I do a lot of research and analyze stocks and bonds for my clients. I’m more of a personal banker in a small but competitive bank. It’s a good living and I’m good at it.”

  “So both you and your brother are good with numbers,” she murmured.

  “I wouldn’t tell him this if I were you—” because Lucas was definitely capable of shooting any messenger, “—but we’re still alike in a lot of ways. He likes to think he’s the more efficient version.”

  “He does make very efficient tea,” she allowed.

  Kyle smiled, glad to see some of the tension seeping out of her.

  “So where do all the models come in?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The vapid models Lucas talked about. According to him, you’ve practically been drowning in them.”

  Yet another reason to disown his sibling. “Drowning is a strong word.”

  “Which means you’d rather not say.”

  He laughed. “Exactly.”

  “Too bad, cough it up. How’d you find yourself surrounded by the young and the senseless?”

  “Only because you’re beside yourself with worry.” Which was thankfully starting to take a backseat as the minutes passed. “A number of my clients are in the sports industries. I travel up and down the coast to meet with them and they connect me to other clients. The models are with the clients. I just occasionally get in the way. Since they like me, I started getting a reputation for being with them.”

  “That’s possibly the lamest excuse for womanizing I’ve ever heard.”

  “You caught me my by surprise. Ask me again tomorrow, I’ll have a better one.”

  She shook her head, her mirth not lasting as long as he’d have liked. He saw when her smile turned brittle. “Thanks for coming, Kyle. It…I know I wasn’t very nice to you the last time we saw each other. It means a lot that you came. And I know it’ll mean a lot to Dory too.”

  He clenched his fists in his pockets, wanting to put an arm around her and give her the comfort she so clearly needed. She wasn’t ready, though. Dory had been right about that. If he wanted Jessica to take him seriously, he had to start respecting her boundaries. “Thanks for calling.”

  Keeping Jessica distracted became interesting work. He still couldn’t get her to say much about herself, but he got a few bits out here and there, all of it related to Dory. Things Dory had made her see about herself, their surprise trip to a strip club which resulted in Jessica’s first—and, he hoped to God, last—lap dance, Dory’s constant rhetoric about her son needing to settle down with a woman who wasn’t a whore. It was around the fourth time he asked reception about Dory only to be told they had no new information for him that something finally happened.

  A bear of a man strode into the ER in a pair of leather chaps over jeans, a studded leather vest over a faded black T-shirt, looking sun-ruddy and windblown. Dark brown hair came past his shoulders and his thick beard nearly matched the length in the front.

  “I’m looking for Doreen Pierson. I’m her son,” he rumbled in a graveling, dry voice.

  The unflappable receptionist stared up, her mouth agape.

  “Please,” the biker added pointedly.

  “Oh, yes…she’s in the ICU.”

  “You just told me there was no information.” Kyle frowned at her.

  “He’s family.”

  “So am I!”

  That earned him a raised bushy eyebrow from the biker.

  “Well, all right, I’m not, but she is.” He pointed back to Jessica, who was already standing.

  The biker turned. “You’re Jessica Saunders?”

  She stared up at the man with huge eyes, but she didn’t gulp. “Daniel?”

  He chucked his head once. Not the talkative type. “Where’s the ICU?”

  “Fourth floor,” the receptionist replied to his back.

  Daniel started walking away, then looked over his shoulder. “You two coming?”

  Kyle heard the click of heels before he could reach out for her arm. She stayed by his side as they followed the behemoth to the elevators.

  Chapter Eleven

  Stable. Jessica had always liked that word before. It sounded safe, secure; a dream word. Looking down on Dory’s sleeping form, tiny in the giant railed bed, stable had seemed utterly lacking. Now, pushing her key into her front door, Kyle at her side, stable was the last word she could use to describe their situation.

  He’d been wonderful at the hospital. He’d gotten her to talk—seemed to be his special gift—but he’d been kind enough to only make her talk about inane things. When Daniel took them up to Dory’s room, she was asleep but thankfully not touched with blue as she had been. The doctor said it was definitely a moderate heart attack, but they were unsure about any heart damage as yet. The next forty-eight hours were the danger hours. If she continued without another attack during that time, they would tentatively upgrade her condition. Daniel took that news with a grim, unblinking stare, then sat down at his mother’s bedside and took her hand. If he moved again in the next hour, Jessica didn’t see it.

  They stayed until Dory awoke and smiled at them. She pooh-poohed the doctor’s diagnosis, claiming to feel just fine, but made no move to get out of the bed. Jessica promised to come back the next day, leaving mother and son to themselves, probably a little too eager to escape the warmth of their connection to cover it well. Kyle had given her a confused glance but had kissed Dory’s cheek and come along with her.

  Now how was she going to deal with him?

  “Kyle—”

  “Uh-oh.” He smiled sheepishly and looked down at his feet before leaning on the wall outside her apartment.

  Jessica frowned. “Uh-oh what? I didn’t say anything.”

  “You were going to.”

  “That was rather the point in saying your name.”

  “You have that distant, ‘it’s been a nice evening’ look on your face.”

  “I seriously doubt that.” She made sure to smooth her features, turning her key to unlock the door.

  “She’ll be okay, Jess.”

  “I know,” she said automatically. His hand on her shoulder startled her into looking at him.

  He looked at her firmly, his blue gaze penetrating her with surprising intensity. “She will be okay.” Not a platitude. More a statement of fact.

  Her mouth curved against her better judgment. “You really think saying a thing makes it come true?”

  “Doesn’t it?”

  She shook her head. “Life doesn’t work that way. Most of the time, the harder you try to make something happen, the further it gets from your control.” Just look at how things had gone between them.

  “That doesn’t sound like a woman who put herself through law school and into a renowned firm.”

  “Well, there was a bit more to that than saying I would become a lawyer.”

  “It starts with believing,” he said quietly. “I believed you’d call me.”

  Her smile fell. “Kyle—”

  “I know, you called me for Dory. Maybe I wasn’t specific enough with my affirmation. How about, you will ask me in for coffee?”

  He didn’t even know how to stop charming her. “Sounds more like hypnotism.”

  “Would it work?” He picked up his hands and wiggled his fingers at her as if concocting some sort of fake hocus-pocus from the air. “You will ask me in for coffee,” he said, using an absolutely horrendous Dracula accent. “You will sit back and
relax with me while we talk about how good we could be together.”

  “Kyle—”

  “You will let me rub your feet while we have this conversation.”

  Hypnotized into a foot rub? The thought gave her pause. Her feet did hurt…but he didn’t seem like the kind of man who’d be content to rub her soles and leave the rest of her alone. And she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to stop him. Knowing her body, by the time he got to her ankle she’d be wet, aching and demanding. Not a good plan…

  “Hmmm, a difficult specimen.” He pretended to muse, half-crossing his arms and tapping his mouth with a pseudo-thoughtful finger. “I know a twenty-four-hour bakery around here that serves a chocolate torte we can eat while you get rubbed.”

  Chocolate and a foot rub?

  So I’m not the rock of Gibraltar. She turned the knob and opened the door. “Come on in.”

  “Nope, have to run to the bakery. You get comfortable, I’ll be back in twenty minutes, tops.”

  “Twenty minutes?” That didn’t sound nearby.

  “Tops.” He leaned forward to kiss her, the brush of his mouth so fast she never even thought of saying no.

  He stopped suddenly, a frown on his face before he cupped her cheeks and settled a gentle, caressing kiss on her lips. One lick, just one, and she opened for him, moaning, her hands curling around his wrists to hold on. Their bodies fit to each other, her tingling breasts flattening to his chest while he leisurely took her mouth, teasing and stroking and generally curling every nerve ending in her entire body. In a split second, she remembered being kissed just like this, naked, Kyle buried deep inside, stirring his hips slowly against her, driving her absolutely insane with pleasure. She whimpered, wanting to tighten her legs around his waist just as much as she had then.