by Tracy Wolff
Her fingers trembled against Jack’s arm, and he turned to her, eyebrows raised. “You okay?” he asked. “I promise they don’t bite.”
“I’m fine.”
And she was, she assured herself. The trembling was nothing. The ache in the pit of her stomach even less than nothing. She was being stupid letting this get to her. Obviously, Jack wasn’t involved with Amanda, so how he felt about her shouldn’t matter. It wasn’t like Sophie was in love with him or anything. Or even like she’d planned on letting anything serious happen between them. Because she hadn’t.
She’d taken herself out of the dating merry-go-round a long time ago and had no intention of getting back on. What she and Jack were doing now—was for kicks. For fun. She might not be interested in getting involved in a serious relationship with a man, but she was only thirty-five. Her body had needs that she’d ignored for far too long. Being with Jack was simply a way to relieve those needs.
God knew, she had enough issues of her own. The last thing she needed was to hook up with a guy who had a crush on another woman.
She wished he’d told her. That way she would have had time to prepare. And, more importantly, she wouldn’t feel so damn stupid. Because that’s all that hollow feeling was, she told herself determinedly. Embarrassment not hurt.
Blowing out a long breath, Sophie mentally put on her big-girl panties. Tilted her chin up, straightened her shoulders, readjusted her thinking and prepared to deal. Tonight would be difficult enough for Jack to deal with without her getting herself all upset. Doing that, would make things worse for him and she wasn’t prepared to do that, not when he’d already had a crappy day. No matter what else had happened, no matter how annoyed she was with him right now, they were friends. And she wouldn’t let him be embarrassed, wouldn’t let him be hurt. Not after everything he’d already been through.
“Jack! There you are,” Amanda called happily, as she rushed to meet them and pull them the final few steps to the large corner booth where she and her husband were sitting. “I was beginning to think you were going to stand us up.”
“Sorry, traffic was bad,” he lied smoothly, dropping a kiss on Amanda’s cheek before reaching over to shake hands with Simon. “Good to see you, man.”
“Good to see you, too,” Simon responded in the clipped British accent that had once made Sophie swoon. “Amanda’s been complaining because you haven’t come by the house lately.”
“Yeah, well, work and physical therapy are keeping me pretty busy.”
“Plus babysitting,” Sophie piped up, a little annoyed at how Amanda had twisted the knife. Simon was obviously oblivious to Jack’s feelings for his wife, but there was no way Amanda could be. Not if they’d been friends as long as Jack told her they’d been. “Now that he’s on nights, he’s been watching my kids for me a few days a week.”
“You didn’t tell me that!” Amanda exclaimed. “That’s wonderful. In the hospitals in Africa, they all clamor for Dr. Jack to take care of them. Jack is amazing with kids!”
“But not so great with introductions, obviously,” Jack broke in. “Guys, this is my next-door neighbor Sophie Connors. Sophie, these are two of my closest friends. Dr. Amanda Jacobs and Simon Hart.”
“It’s good to meet you,” she told them, firmly shaking their hands. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Jack.”
“Really?” Amanda asked with a narrowed glare directed at her best friend. “Because he’s been remarkably close-lipped about you, no matter how many questions I’ve asked since he said he was bringing a date.”
Sophie started to come back with a snide remark, despite Jack’s feelings for Amanda, but she couldn’t do it. There was something genuine about the other woman. Something real and down-to-earth and yet vaguely injured. It was the same look Simon carried, the same look Jack had, and if she was being completely honest, it was the same look she sported, as well. She didn’t know the specifics, but sometime, somewhere, fate had done a number on Amanda Jacobs.
The fact that she’d been able to come back from it so successfully, and so nicely, went a long way toward soothing Sophie’s dislike of her. The fact that Amanda really did appear clueless of Jack’s feelings—though she had a genuine affection for him—took Sophie the rest of the way. Dinner passed easily, with stimulating conversation, great food and fine wine for everyone but Amanda. As the night wore on, Sophie relaxed despite herself. She wanted to dislike Amanda, but she couldn’t. The woman was too genuine. And Simon was wonderful, as well. Not smooth and charming like Jack—no, he had too many rough edges for that, but he was warm and open in his affection for his wife and his old friend.
No wonder Jack had come to this celebration dinner. Even if it hurt him, it would be impossible to turn his back on this couple and their happiness.
During a lull in her discussion with Simon about the precarious state of dictatorships in the Middle East, she glanced at Jack, who was deep in conversation with Amanda about some medical procedure he didn’t agree with. He looked earnest and intelligent and concerned.
The one thing he didn’t look was happy. But then, if she had to watch the man she loved sitting with the woman he loved, she probably wouldn’t be very happy, either…
* * *
JACK GLANCED UP to see Sophie staring at him. He started to smile, but there was a strange shimmer to her green eyes, one that hit him straight in the gut. Was she crying?
But then she grinned at him before turning to launch herself back into a spirited discussion with Simon and he told himself it must have been a trick of the light. She looked like she was having a great time. She’d certainly fit right in with his friends like she’d always been there.
“I like her,” Amanda said softly, resting her hand on his forearm.
He braced himself for the old feelings to rip through him at her touch, for the pain of knowing she was lost to him forever to rear its ugly head like it so often did. Instead, there was barely a twinge, a deep-down contentment that Amanda’s life was finally back on track. And his, while not on track, wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been even a couple of weeks ago. That was thanks, in great part, to Sophie and her boys.
“I do, too. A lot.”
“I can tell. And I have to admit, I’m glad. Maybe Sophie will be able to keep you from running straight back to the nearest war zone. God knows, I’ve never been able to.”
“Because you were usually there right along with me.”
“Well, there is that.” She took a sip of her water. “But seriously, Jack, you look good. A lot better than when you showed up at the clinic a few weeks ago.”
“Don’t beat around the bush, Amanda. Call it like you see it.”
“You know I always do. So, why don’t you do the same. Seriously. How are you really doing?”
Silence stretched between them and he knew she was waiting for him to say something, but he didn’t know what to say. Oh, he knew what she wanted to hear—that his hand was getting better and everything in his life was peachy.
But that wasn’t the truth, and while he was great at putting on a smile and laying on the charm to cover a multitude of pain, he’d never been a big fan of straight-out lying. Especially not to his good friends.
With Amanda looking at him like that, though, he knew he wasn’t going to get away with brushing her off with a funny anecdote. So he told her the truth, or as much as he was ready to tell anyone. “My leg’s doing great. It’s almost completely healed, and I’m just about done with physical therapy for it.”
“That’s good to hear.” She didn’t look impressed. “And your hand?”
“My hand is fine. It’s going to take time.” Which wasn’t strictly the truth. There hadn’t been any improvement in a couple of weeks, and his doctor thought he had reached a plateau. Hence the whole hedge-cutting debacle of the morning—his physical therapist thought that so
me heavy duty exercises might shock his body into responding, getting off this plateau, but he wasn’t so sure.
“What kind of time?”
“We don’t know yet.” He tried to smile, but he could feel the strain in it. Sophie must have seen it, too, because she jumped in to save him.
“So, Amanda, are you going to find out if it’s a boy or a girl? Or do you and Simon want to be surprised?”
The conversation shifted after that, to the baby and the nursery Amanda was hoping to put together and then on to funny stories about Sophie’s two boys. He sat back and listened for most of it, as did Simon, but he would be lying to himself if he didn’t say he liked the new bent in the conversation. Not just because it got him out of talking about his least favorite subject in the world, but also because it gave him a chance peek at family life, to see what he’d been missing all these years.
Not that he was in shape emotionally for anything resembling a family, but it was good to know that some babies in this world were being born into happy, healthy families. And that they were thriving. He hoped that this baby would be healthy. He was still haunted by the loss of Gabby, Amanda and Simon’s first child and his goddaughter. Looking at them, seeing their excitement in the new baby, was wonderful. But lurking in their eyes, behind their smiles, was the knowledge that doing everything right still didn’t guarantee a healthy child, as well as the fear that they would lose this one, too.
Dinner wrapped up around ten-thirty and as they were leaving the restaurant, Jack pulled Simon aside and congratulated him one more time on the baby. Then he asked how Amanda was doing, because he knew his old friend as well as she knew him, and despite her obvious joy at being pregnant again, he knew she was hurting, as well.
“I don’t know,” Simon told him. “I keep asking her to talk to me, but she’s got everything locked up so tight inside that I figure it’s just a matter of time before she shuts down again.”
“Don’t let that happen.”
“I’m trying not to, but you know Amanda. She’s so headstrong that she keeps everything inside until it’s too late to help her. I’m hoping that if I keep at her, keep making sure that she talks about things even when she doesn’t want to, that it will be enough.”
Simon’s words hit home, and though he knew the other man was talking specifically about Amanda, Jack could feel the truth of them applied to himself, as well. He was doing the same thing as Amanda and it was a matter of time before everything blew up in his face.
After clapping Simon on the back and hugging Amanda, he looked up to see Sophie watching him. There was compassion in her eyes, but also a spark of anger that turned the deep green nearly phosphorescent. He wished he knew which emotion was directed at him, and what he’d done to deserve it.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE RIDE HOME was an uncomfortable one. Sophie was perfectly polite, perfectly nice, but there was a distance between them that had, quite obviously, not been there before. It wasn’t the end of the evening he’d been anticipating, and by the time he got back to their houses he was pretty much in a quandary.
He knew the way he’d expected the evening to end—with Sophie in his bed for a couple of hours before she went home to relieve her babysitter. He knew she’d anticipated it ending the same way, so he wasn’t sure what had happened to change her mind. All he knew was that the cool, precise woman sitting next to him was a far cry from the hot, sexy one he’d come so close to making love to in the car before dinner.
As he pulled onto their street, he kept debating back and forth with himself. Did he pull into her driveway or did he pull into his own. By the time he made it to the front of her house, he still hadn’t made a decision and it was frustrating in the extreme. He wasn’t the sort to be crippled by indecision when it came to women and he really didn’t appreciate that such a thing was starting now.
Finally he decided, what the hell. If there was something wrong she was going to have to tell him, because he wasn’t a mind reader and after an evening of playing cat-and-mouse with Amanda, he was too tired for games. Especially ones that dealt with emotions.
With a grimace, he pulled into his driveway and waited for the sparks to fly. It didn’t take long. Sophie took a deep breath as she gathered her clutch from the bottom of the car and reached for her door without waiting for him to come around to hold it for her.
“Would you like to come in, for a cup of coffee?” he asked as he met her near the front of the vehicle.
“You know what? I think I’m going to head in. It’s been a long night and I’m tired. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She started to slip past him, but he grabbed her elbow with his good hand, then spun her around to face him even as he backed her up against the hood of his car.
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked, even as his lower body sunk against hers.
“I told you. It’s been a long night and—”
“Don’t,” he told her, his hand coming up to rest against the hollow of her throat. “Don’t make excuses.” Her pulse was hammering there, fast and heavy, and he didn’t know if it was because she was nervous or if it was because she was angry. At least not until her eyes flashed at him and her hand came up to push him away from her.
“I understand why you did it, really, I do,” she told him. “But I don’t appreciate being used. If you’d told me—” Her voice broke, for the first time sending alarm skittering down his spine. “I still would have come with you, you know.”
“Told you what?” he asked, baffled.
She made a noise deep in her throat and for a second he thought she was going to hit him. But Sophie was way too nice for that and she settled for brushing past him, leaving him empty-handed and confused.
He was prepared to let her go, to watch as she marched across the lawn and up the stairs to her house. He didn’t like it, but he’d been around enough angry women in his life to know when to push and when to let them stew. This definitely seemed to be the latter situation.
But when she was only a few steps from her house, she turned around to face him again. He knew there was something she wanted to say—it was written all over her face—just as he knew she was too proper to shout it across their yards for the entire neighborhood to hear. Or at least he hoped she was, but he wasn’t willing to stake his entire reputation on it.
Bum leg or not, he sped across the lawn to her. “Sophie, please,” he said. “If I somehow hurt you, I’m really sorry. I certainly didn’t mean it and I wish you’d give me a chance to make it up to you.”
Sure, he was laying it on a little thick, but what was the alternative? Go home to his empty house and toss and turn all night. It seemed cold comfort when, if he played his cards right, he could be making love to her for half the night instead.
“You didn’t hurt me,” she told him, but the hitch in her voice belied her words. “I thought… Why didn’t you tell me? she repeated.
He threw his arms wide. “Tell you what?” he demanded, finally growing exasperated.
“That you were in love with Amanda.”
She said the last words quietly, so quietly that he had to strain to hear them. But once he figured out what she was saying, once he understood, he felt like she’d driven an eighteen wheeler straight through him.
For long seconds he didn’t say anything and neither did she. But the force of her words reverberated through the space between them, through the night air itself until they’d taken over his entire consciousness. Until they were all he could think about, all he could feel.
“I’m not,” he finally told her hoarsely, and of all the responses he could have given her he got the feeling that this was the one that angered her the most.
“I’m not an idiot,” she told him, marching straight back down the walkway to him. “I saw everything tonight.”
His own anger kicked up.
“Really? And what exactly did you see? Because, the truth is, there’s nothing between Mandy and me but friendship and there never has been.”
“Because she’s in love with her husband, not because of any lack of feeling on your part.”
The accusation sliced right through him. “You mean lack of effort on my part, don’t you?”
She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know. Do I? You two looked awfully chummy to me tonight.”
With that accusation, she’d gone too far and judging from the look on her face, he figured she probably knew it. He could see her debating on whether or not to back down, to apologize, but he was too fed-up to be impressed by it. With a shake of his head, he turned around and headed back to his house. He didn’t need this shit on top of everything else in his life. He really didn’t.
This is why he didn’t do relationships, he fumed as he took the steps up to his house two at a time. Even when you thought you’d done nothing wrong, even when you were on your best behavior, they still bit you in the ass. It was ridiculous.
He was fumbling his key into his lock when he smelled her. Jasmine and cinnamon and a sweet, fresh smell that was uniquely Sophie. He almost ignored her, almost opened his front door, went inside and then closed it in her face. But that would solve nothing between him and despite his anger and his angst, he found that he very much wanted to solve the problem that had sprung up between them.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I had no right to go off on you like that and I have no excuse for it. Except to say that I was blindsided when I realized what was going on tonight and I handled it badly. I had no right to expect anything from you and even less of a right to expect to be privy to your feelings. It’s just—” She stopped, looking confused and unsure for the first time since he’d met her. “It’s just that I care about you more than I expected to and I don’t really know what to do about that.”