Six forty-five Saturday night, Gabe pulled up outside Jenny’s apartment, an old beige brick bungalow that had been converted into two apartments. He blew out a deep breath, wiped sweaty palms on his Dockers, and climbed out of the car.
“What’re you doing here, Harrison?” he muttered. Slamming the door closed, Gabe looked at the house and drummed his fingers on the car roof. It’d been years since he’d had a real date, and Jenny was no Judith he could talk shop with. In fact, work and the kids were all that’d kept him and his ex-wife together. With Jenny, Gabe had neither.
“Come on, man, it hasn’t been that long; how different could it be?” He crammed a restless hand in his pant pocket, rounded the car and walked up the steps. Maybe he should’ve called his son to subtly solicit a few pointers. He laughed at the absurdity.
For cripes sake, Harrison. Get a grip. He reached out to ring the doorbell. What could Ted teach him he didn’t already know?
Whether you’ll need a condom tonight or not.
“Shit.” His hand abruptly fell away as the door whipped open.
Bright-eyed and grinning broadly, Jenny pushed the screen door open and looked past him. “Hi. Who’re you talking to?”
His tension drained away at the sight of her. Jenny was dressed in a gauzy top and flowery skirt that fell to just above her ankles, revealing shiny blue toenails and sandals. She’d twisted the sides of her hair into some complicated braid, then left the rest free. Damp ends of her hair curled slightly below her breasts, releasing a fresh lemon aroma that made him want to pull her close, close his eyes, and fill his lungs with the summery, sunshine scent of her.
“I... Nobody. Just reviewing a few things I forgot to do before I left the hospital,” he improvised. “You look great.”
A gentle smile brightened her face. “Thanks. Do you need to call somebody to give them instructions?”
Would that he could. “Naw, it’s fine. Ready?”
“Yup.” She lowered the dark sunglasses perched on the crown of her head, pulled the door closed behind her, and started down the walkway.
Gabe trailed behind, watching her swaying skirt for a moment before tearing his glance away and swallowing hard. Oh, Harrison, are you in trouble.
He helped her into the car, then rushed around and got in. As he pulled away from the curb, he saw Jenny looking around the interior of the car. He made a quick inspection—nope, no forgotten lab specimen jars sat in the cup holder to gross her out, and he’d thrown out all the clutter before leaving home.
Jenny picked up his travel mug and studied the picture of him, Alex, and Ted taken outside the Hogwarts School gate. “You took the kids to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter? Oh my God. How was it?”
“Impressive. We had a great time. You’re a Harry Potter fan?”
“Who isn’t?” She put the mug back.
He felt her gaze on him, but when he looked at her, she immediately found the dashboard fascinating. He made a left at the light, and out of the corner of his eye watched her checking out his car again.
A slight frown wrinkled her brow—not in disgust but... What was she thinking? Was she having second thoughts? Was he overdressed in khakis and navy suit coat? He’d forgone the tie, but... He made a mental note to ditch the jacket as soon as possible.
He turned down Lakeshore Drive and headed north. Jenny casually—too casually—glanced over her shoulder into the old Volvo’s backseat. What was she looking at?
“What?” he finally asked.
“What, what?” she feigned ignorance.
He studied her for several long seconds before returning his attention to the light evening traffic. “What’s the matter?”
Her mouth opened and then closed as if trying to frame her comment tactfully. “You drive a station wagon.”
“What’s wrong with a station wagon?”
“Nothing. I just expected...”
So that was it. His station wagon didn’t mesh with his doctor image. Relief flooded him and he suppressed a grin. “A BMW? Audi? Mercedes?”
“Well... Yeah.” She squirmed in her seat, clearly uncomfortably. “I’m not a snob—really I’m not. It’s just that I’d never have guessed a station wagon.”
“Maybe I can’t afford a better car?”
“Does that mean I’m paying for dinner?”
He laughed. “Of course not.” He glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I’m not a very good doctor?”
“And you admit this to your patient’s sister?”
“Gonna sue me?”
“Only if you screw up.”
“Fair enough.” He shrugged. “I don’t need to impress anybody. The wagon suits me fine.”
She bit her lip, hesitating before pressing to the heart of her discomfort. “It’s black.”
“What?”
“The car. It’s black.”
“I like black.”
“No offense, but It looks like a hearse.”
He scowled and reared his head back in surprise. “A what?”
She sniffed the air, as if searching for the noxious scent of formaldehyde or the sweet cloying odor of ripe flowers. “A hearse. You know, those black funeral cars that carry dead people around.”
“I know what a hearse is.” Silence filled the car a good five seconds before Gabe could think of a reply. “It does not.”
Eyebrows raised, she tilted her head and winced in apology. “Yeah, it does. I’m sorry, but it reminds me of a hearse. All it needs is the little funeral flag.”
“Very funny.”
“Well, it does.” A cute blush tinted her earnest face.
“At least you’re honest,” he chuckled. “Morbid, but honest.”
What an interesting perspective on life, amusing and spontaneous. Refreshing.
They turned into the Hunt Club and drove down the long asphalt driveway under interlacing maple trees. Four green, freshly resurfaced outdoor tennis courts stood to the left of the entrance, and on the far side of them, farthest from the musty hay and horse smells, sat the club’s pristine pool and red brick clubhouse.
From the big red and white barn straight ahead, a large brown horse with a jagged white mark bisecting his nose bobbed his head over his stall door. He nickered loudly to a fat gray pony standing in the shade, flicking his tail and chewing lazily as a groom sluiced water over his broad back.
Gabe exited the car to the rhythmic clip clop of a horse’s hooves tapping the asphalt as a young girl urged her horse into a quick walk across the drive to the dirt corral. Alex had loved taking riding lessons here; she still enjoyed walking through the barns, petting a horse here and there and sneaking the gray fat pony carrots purloined from dinner.
The indoor tennis courts and riding rink were housed in the brown brick building next to the u-shaped stables. Colorful impatiens and daylilies circled the buildings. Altogether, the pastoral environment, secretly nestled in the heavily populated residential area, had a soothing effect on him. This was the kind of feeling he’d always wanted to come home to, but what was the point of creating this haven only for himself?
Standing beside the open car door, Jenny’s wide eyes took it all in. “Wow. This is great. So peaceful.”
Gabe smiled and stood a little taller. Shrugging out of his suit coat, he tossed it in the backseat. He took her elbow and moved her away from the car so he could lock it.
Walking toward the clubhouse, Jenny suddenly grabbed his hand and pulled him to a stop. She arched a brow. “Wait. You drive a station wagon, but have a membership to The Hunt Club?”
He relinquished her hand to pull open the dark wooden door. With a firm nudge at her back, he urged her through the entrance. “I play a lot of tennis.”
“A private club?”
“The food’s terrific.”
Jenny laughed, a light airy sound that brushed away his defensiveness. “I’m sure it is.”
At his request, the hostess seated them on the enclosed patio overlooking the swimming pool and outdoor tennis
courts. She took their drink order and left them looking over the menu.
Jenny closed the menu and put it aside. “So when can Michael come home?”
“Tomorrow. He’s done great since the transfusion.” The waiter interrupted him to take their order. When he left, Gabe settled the cloth napkin across his lap. “So, how was your week? Did you get your article done?”
“Part one. I sent it in yesterday.” He listened with interest as she detailed the kind of medical assistance the clinic offered and what the directors hoped to achieve, with special emphasis on how it was largely run by volunteer medical professionals.
She told him about the heartbreaking poverty she’d witnessed and the air of hopelessness permeating the neighborhood. “Hopefully, my article will spur some positive interest in the clinic.”
Her impassioned talk reminded him of similar speeches he’d heard when his parents had solicited donations for their latest cause. “It’s a large project.”
“They want to make a difference.”
“Don’t we all?” He sipped his red wine and then reached for a hard roll. With quick mechanical thrusts, he slapped whipped butter on the bread.
Resting her elbows on the table, Jenny laced fingers around wine glass and tilted her head to the side. “What’re you thinking?”
His attention snapped back to her. “Nothing really. I just hope they haven’t taken on more than they can handle.”
“Seemed pretty realistic to me.”
“I’ve had a little experience with hospital politics. This clinic is a more complex issue than you’ve been led to believe. I don’t think they can do it relying that heavily on volunteers. They need an enormous amount of capital, state or federally funded. Private sector donations aren’t going to cut it.”
“You seem to know a lot about it. Why don’t you help?”
“I could,” he allowed, reluctant yet intrigued. His practice kept him so busy that it’d been ages since he’d volunteered for anything. “My parents were in the Peace Corps,” he said.
“And...”
“They died in a poor little village in Columbia.”
“I’m sorry. What happened?”
“They caught amoebic dysentery. I was only twelve when they died. Before that, I’d traveled with them around the world wherever they were sent. It was a great adventure for a little boy—and a sad education. The people were so poor.” In his mind’s eye, he could still clearly picture the flimsy tin lean-tos. “The lucky ones had stick huts with tin roofs, and the wealthy ones had sandals. After my folks died, I went to live with my aunt and uncle.”
Sympathy softened her expression. “I’m sorry. That must have been tough.”
“Could have been worse. Aunt Adele and Uncle George were great. They were never able to have kids of their own, so it seemed like we were meant to be together.”
“What an eventful childhood.” She put her wine glass down. “Did you ever want to follow in your parents’ footsteps, or did you resent their life?”
“I never resented what happened. Uncle George was angry enough for all of us. He was close to my mom and blamed my father and the Peace Corps for her death. But my parents loved helping others. They’d needed to try and make a difference—it’s who they were. They often gave up their own quinine tablets so that the less hardy locals wouldn’t get sick.”
“What about you?” she asked softly.
“I always had quinine.”
The conversation had turned uncomfortably personal and serious for a first date. Gabe hadn’t thought about his parents and his unusual childhood in years. He had a lot of happy memories—his parents had been loving and generous, but their early deaths left a scar. Being orphaned was tough—even when raised by family.
The waiter delivered their dinner, and they ate in comfortable silence.
“After college, I considered joining the Corps,” Gabe admitted.
“And?”
“Uncle George had a fit. He was hurt and betrayed. He even threatened to disinherit me.” Gabe chuckled, a dry mirthless sound. “I wanted to join the Peace Corps—like I cared about money.”
“What’d you do?”
“I stayed. He took me in and raised me.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t hurt him like that.”
“What about your aunt?”
“Aunt Adele died of a stroke when I was fifteen.”
Jenny blew out a dramatic breath. “Mother died, aunt died, wife divorced. Women don’t last long around you do they, Harrison?”
He chuckled. “Guess not.” The he held her gaze. “It’d take a special woman to stay with me.”
The waiter interrupted to clear their plates. Declining dessert and coffee, they paid the bill and left the club.
Gabe groaned and patted his flat stomach. “I could use some exercise. Want to walk along the lake?”
“Sure.”
They parked at the bottom of Woodland Shores Drive and crossed Lakeshore. The breeze lofted strands of Jenny’s long hair before settling dark tendrils across his navy jacket arm, clinging like a sticky web. He jammed his hands deep in his pockets to keep from reaching out, gathering the escaped locks, and rubbing them to see if they were as soft as he imagined them to be.
Instead, Gabe scanned the glossy water dotted with hopeful sailboats and sighed. “It’s beautiful here.”
Beautiful woman. Beautiful sunset. Beautiful night. If he put his arm around Jenny, would she lean into him and rest her head on his shoulder while soaking in the serenity of the lake or was it too soon?
She stood with her arms crossed under her breasts, looking out across the water.
“Cold?” he asked.
“It’s a little chilly.”
He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She reached behind her to free her hair, but then the jacket began sliding off. Gabe brushed her hands aside. “I got it.”
While she held onto the lapels, he gathered the hair at the nape of her neck and pulled the long strands free of his jacket, reluctantly releasing them to tumble down her back. Softer than he’d imagined, with the light airy scent of springtime.
“Thanks.” Jenny shot him a quick, bright smile as they began walking. “I’d love to have a house on the water. Can you imagine how amazing it’d be to come home to this every day? It’d be the perfect place to write—so beautiful and quiet. How could you not be creative, surrounded by all that?” She paused. “We lived in San Diego for a while. I couldn’t wait to get back to Michigan.”
“Missed the humidity and bugs, did you?” He took her hand and pulled her away from a swarm of gnats, then didn’t let go. Her small hand disappeared beneath his big paw, and he loved how it automatically curled into his. There was something intimate yet comforting about walking hand-in-hand. He’d missed this connection.
“Hardly,” she said dryly. “I missed the huge green trees, the space, and seasons. I love the colors and smells in the fall, the biting winter, ice storms and all. And the spring—I can’t imagine a more beautiful place in the spring with all the trees flowering. The summer may be a little hot, but if I could live by the lake, it’d be worth it.”
“I agree. A lot of people aren’t as blessed.”
“Yeah, but we all have something to be thankful for.”
“Tell that to the poor folks living in roach-infested dumps, struggling to eke out a living, trying to feed and clothe their kids while protecting them from gangs. I bet they have a little trouble finding blessings to count.”
Jenny’s sideways, cautious look told him he’d been a little too emphatic.
“Sorry. Guess I feel a little guilty. We’ve had a great meal and are enjoying this beautiful lake, while those poor people at that clinic have next to nothing. Comparatively.”
“So why don’t you help? Give them some time at the clinic? They’re always looking for doctors to volunteer. One afternoon a week would be a huge help.”
He pursed his lips in consideration. He could. “Maybe I wil
l. It’d be good to feel useful again.”
The pager on his hip sounded. No. Not now. Damn it.
Gabe released her hand to check the number. His shoulders drooped. “ICU I’m sorry; I’ve got to answer this.”
“It’s okay.” She smiled. “I don’t mind."
His hand went to his belt and the empty phone case, and then he patted his pockets.
“It’s in your car. Charging.”
“Right.” Damn. “I hate to cut our walk short, but—”
“You have to answer the page.” Jenny took his arm and turned them around. “If you weren’t having a good time you could’ve taken me straight home. No need to have your buddy page you with a fake emergency.”
“Wha—?” He frowned and his pace slowed before halting completely as he got it. “Hey, no. This is for real. I—”
Her lips spread in a wide grin. “I’m teasing you.” His pager sounded again. Jenny tugged on his arm. “Come on. Let’s go. You need to save a life.”
She’d been kidding? “Have you done that often?”
“Tease?”
“Have a friend text you to get you out of an awful date?”
She gave him an impish look. “Maybe a time or two. You haven’t?”
“Nope. No need.” He lightly squeezed her hand. “I’m an excellent judge of character.”
“And. It never occurred to you.”
He grinned. No way he was going to admit that. They hurried back to the car, where Gabe could answer the page in relative privacy.
Tuning out his conversation, Jenny settled back in the cloth seat and blew out a contented sigh. Nice dinner followed by a pleasant walk by the lake and not much first date awkwardness. Gabe was intelligent, interesting, and caring. So where was his fatal flaw?
She peeked at Gabe out of the corner of her eye, admiring his handsome face, kind eyes, and the soothing timbre of his voice. He was polished, she’d give him that, and when he smiled he was irresistible. His smile literally made her heart flutter. This guy had definite potential. She pulled his jacket tighter around her. But his car definitely was weird. It really did remind her of a hearse—she hadn’t been teasing him about that.
Gabe held out his phone to her. “Say hello to Betty.”
“Wha—?” Jenny automatically took the phone. Then she glimpsed the sparkle in his eyes.
He nodded at the phone. “Go on.”
She brought the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
“Hi, Jenny. My name is Betty and I’m a nurse in the ICU”
Jenny’s eyes grew wide as she stared at Gabe, who watched her intently.
Are you kidding me right now?
“Dr. Harrison wanted me to assure you that he’s having a marvelous time on his date, and he’s heartbroken that he has to cut your evening short, but he really does need to go to work and this really is an emergency.”
Seriously? She looked at Gabe’s amused expression, knowing he could easily hear every word. Touché, Doctor.
“And how much is Dr. Harrison paying you to say that?”
Betty laughed. “Nothing. We love Dr. Harrison. He’s a real sweetie.”
“Say goodbye,” Gabe ordered as he held out his hand. Was that a blush darkening his cheeks?
“He doesn’t date nearly enough,” Betty said.
“Is that so?” Jenny gave him a sly look, and leaned away as he tried to snatch his phone.
“Which was why I was so sorry to have to bother him tonight, but—”
Jenny grinned at Gabe’s scowl and took pity on him. “Goodbye, Betty. It was nice chatting with you.” She handed Gabe his cell.
Gabe mumbled a goodbye, turned on the car, and drove away from the peaceful lake. “You seem to have trust issues. I thought you might need proof that I wasn’t ditching you.”
“Thanks,” she said dryly. “Now she’s gonna think I’m some clingy, insecure woman.”
“Hardly. She’s going to think I’m pitiful and inept since I needed her to vouch for me. But if Betty met you...” He gave her a warm, admiring look that curled her toes. “She’d know I’m a very lucky guy.”
Well, heck. It’s hard to tease someone when he’s so darn sweet. Tonight had been great; Jenny didn’t want it to end so soon. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring me in and make Betty tell me to my face.”
“I don’t dare,” he muttered.
“What?”
“I thought of it, but I wasn’t sure how long I’d be and I’d hate to keep you waiting.”
“And considerate, too.” Jenny smiled. “Somebody raised you right, Harrison.”
“Why, thank you, ma’am.”
At her apartment, Gabe walked Jenny to the door. She faced him and smiled. “Thanks for dinner. I had a great time.”
“Me, too. Sorry we had to cut our walk short.”
“Me, too.” She looked down, feeling stupid at having mimicked his words. She was a journalist for pity’s sake; she ought to be able to come up with her own words.
He glanced back at his car. “I’d better get going.”
Ordinarily she would have invited him in, but a patient was waiting for him. Should she kiss him? A quick glance up the street showed that her neighbors had retired for the night.
Gabe lifted her chin and brushed a light kiss across her lips, a little more than a taste really, then turned and walked away.
Jenny opened her eyes and frowned at the empty space in front of her, then found his retreating back. That’s it? That’s all she got? Gabe was nearly at his car when she called out, “Gabe, wait.”
He stopped and turned around.
“You forgot something.”
Gabe retraced his steps, and she met him halfway. Jenny’s gaze locked onto his gray eyes, willing him to kiss her again. Hands pressed against his warm chest, she held on tight. His head lowered and his eyelids drifted shut in a lazy, sensual promise. She rose up on tiptoe and leaned into him. She longed to snuggle into his neck where the faint, yet heady, scent of cologne and male tantalized her.
Her breath quickened with the effort to keep her hands from exploring the hard muscles beneath her damp palms. In all honesty, she’d been curious about this since she’d first awakened in Michael’s room and seen him watching them sleep.
Lips glided over hers; their warm breath mingled. She wound her arms around his collar so that her fingertips trailed on a seductive quest through crisp, short hair at the nape of his neck. His hands dropped to her waist, and he pulled her firmly against him in a hold so intimate that Jenny had to quell the instinct to press her hips against his.
His heart pounded against her breast, an ardent, undeniable appeal. His breath came in short bursts, between deepening, wet kisses she relished. Groaning, Gabe’s fingers dug into her waist as he pushed her away, putting a good half of a foot between their heated bodies. He rested his forehead against hers, while drawing in several deep breaths. “I should go.”
Gabe didn’t lift his head or remove his hands from her waist, and Jenny’s hands remained locked around his neck.
“I have to go.”
Mind numb, Jenny’s consciousness lagged several seconds behind. She released him, and trailed hands down his chest. “Okay.”
“Geeze. We’re standing in your front yard making out like teenagers when I should be taking care of poor Mr. Rogers.” He shook his head, bemused. “You’re a bad influence, Jenny Campbell.”
No kidding. Wasn’t the first time she’d heard that, but this time she didn’t mind in the least.
“Yeah, but you like me anyway.” She flashed him a sassy smile. “’Night.” Pulling out of his arms, she scooted into the house before she gave into the temptation to invite him in and the hell with Mr. Rogers.
Now that was a proper kiss. Jenny shut the door, closed her eyes, and leaned against the hard wood, staying that way until she heard his car pull away. Great kisser. Great guy.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed away from the door, kicked off her shoes, and tossed her keys
and purse onto the table. Jenny poured herself a Sprite Zero and sat at her desk. She jotted down a quick note to call her editor at ten-thirty Monday morning then scrolled through the messages on her phone. Nothing from Starbucks.
What ever happened to common courtesy? She’d interviewed with them more than a week ago; they couldn’t even take the time to drop her a note letting her know she’d been passed over? Or were they still interviewing candidates? Maybe she needed to do an article on the demise of polite social behavior. Yeah, that’ll get you a job.
Jenny opened her Gmail. Eureka! An email from Nordstrom’s. Working retail again wasn’t her first choice, but it wouldn’t be the worst thing either. Jenny opened the email, then drooped into her seat. Dear Jenny, I appreciate you coming out and interviewing, but the position has been filled. We will keep you in mind…Yada yada yada.
“Don’t bother,” she muttered and tossed the phone onto the desk. She needed the extra money now. She had to start whittling away at that balance on her credit cards.
Jenny’d indulged herself a little too much lately, buying her MacBook Air, Cannon DSLR, computer backpack, several new outfits, and a few other costly accessories she needed for work.
After all, if she expected people to take her seriously, if she wanted her editor to trust her with the choice assignments, she needed to look like a professional. But when the bill came in, she’d been shocked at the price of chic professionalism.
Not to mention that darn hundred and twenty-five-dollar Zorlac. Considering all Michael’s medical bills, that had to be the most expensive skateboard on the face of the earth.
To be fair, the Jeep repair was not her fault; the transmission died on her. Unfortunately, resuscitating the Jeep added another three thousand dollars to her already stressed VISA and MasterCard—she’d had to split the payment between them.
Jenny scowled and pursed her lips. She needed to make money, and fast. Even taking in a roommate hadn’t helped as much as she’d hoped. She fingered a sheet of paper with her roommate’s suggestion. Cindy paid for extra goodies and vacations being a part-time nanny. Sittercity.com, eh?
Jenny hadn’t babysat anyone other than Michael, and that’d been a long time ago. But there was a lot of flexibility in nannying. And it paid well. She wrinkled her nose at the thought of changing dirty, smelly diapers and being slobbered on. She glanced at the email reminding her that Citibank had her statement ready. Sighing, she opened her computer and typed in the website.
“Of course. Another log-in and stupid password to remember.”
Jenny sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her stomach. Then again, if she couldn’t get a job working retail—something she had experience in—what made her think anybody would trust her with their kids? There had to be another way to make money... Selling body parts? Did she really need that spare kidney?
If she didn’t find something soon, she’d have to ask Dad for a loan, but that was absolutely her last resort. Mom couldn’t find out that she’d gotten herself in a financial bind. Jenny’d never live that down.
Chapter 4