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Just Beginning: A Prequel to Just Destiny Page 4
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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
Jenny spent most of the next week at her computer. She visited Michael shortly after he got home from the hospital but didn’t stay long. Her mother hovered around them, finding any excuse to stay by Michael’s side, continually reminding Jenny not to tire him.
Jenny found conversations with her brother were far easier conducted over the telephone—especially when timed during Mom’s favorite evening TV programs The Voice, CSI, Downton Abby, or Modern Family re-runs.
Stretching her arms over her head, then across her body in a firm hug to relieve her bunched shoulder muscles, Jenny pushed away from her computer. She looked at her watch. Nearly dinnertime; Mom would be busy preparing supper. Jenny picked up the phone and dialed. Slouching in her chair, she propped one foot on the desk.
“Hi, Mom. How’s it going?”
“Not bad. Michael had a good day. He’s a little tired from our walk to the mailbox, but he’s getting stronger. I’m glad you called.” Mom lowered her voice. “Michael said you went out to dinner with his doctor the other night.” She paused. “You weren’t actually on a date, were you?”
“How—?” It’d been a great first date, but nothing Mom needed to worry about. Gabe had kids and she had bills and a career to establish. Despite that completely unprofessional, toe-curling kiss in her front yard, she had her priorities straight. “It was business, Mom. He wanted some information about an article I did.”
“Oh, good. Did you have a good time?”
“Yes, Mom. He’s very nice.” Nice guy, nice sense of humor, and a very nice body that tempted her to forget his teenagers, her responsibilities, and her mother, she really didn’t want to disappoint again. Jenny cleared her throat. “Is Michael around?”
“Sure, I’ll get him.”
“Hey, Jen. When’re you comin’ over?” Michael asked.
“Not sure. Why, what’d ya need?” Jenny pulled her hair back and over one shoulder.
“Food. Mom won’t give me anything good—only healthy stuff to build up my blood,” he said, raising his voice, mimicking their mother, then sighed dramatically. “I’d kill for a burger and a bag of Doritos.”
“Good to see you’re recovering your appetite. Eat the veggies Mom gives you and I’ll smuggle you in some Burger King tomorrow.” She divided her hair into three hanks, untangling and smoothing each section.
“Cool. Hey, Jen?” His voice lowered. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”
“What trouble?”
“You know. The skateboard. You and Dr. Harrison. I thought she knew.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Jenny expertly flipped one section of hair over and the other under.
“But you and Mom—”
“Are fine. It has nothing to do with you.”
“Is she mad you’re dating Dr. Harrison?”
Jenny raised her eyebrows. Her hands stilled. “What makes you think I’m dating Dr. Harrison?”
“He was asking a bunch of questions about you. And none of the other kids’ doctors visited them that much, so I figured either he had a crush on you or I was dying.”
She smiled at his logic and continued weaving her hair. “He d
oesn’t have a crush on me. He took me to dinner once—to talk about the Donnatelli clinic.”
“Whatever. Is Mom mad you’re dating him?”
“Why would she be?” She twisted a hair tie at the bottom of her braid.
“He’s old.”
Jenny could imagine that, ‘well, duhhh’ look Michael gave her whenever he thought she was being dense. “He’s not old.”
“A lot older than you.”
She knew he’d rolled his eyes at her. “Not much.”
“Wa-a-y.”
“Besides, age doesn’t matter so much the older you get.” Especially when he had a great body and a sexy smile.
“Well, I like him.”
“Me too.” The doorbell rang. “Gotta go, Kiddo. Someone’s at the door. Be good.”
Jenny clicked off the phone and looked through the peek hole to see Gabe’s distorted face. It’d been a week and a half since she’d last seen him, although he had called several times. They’d mostly spent the week playing phone tag.
She took in her bare feet, jeans, and Mickey Mouse T-shirt. With her hair pulled back and braided, Jenny knew she looked young and unsophisticated—not exactly the image she wanted to project around her older guy friend. She toyed with the idea of pretending she wasn’t home, but his handsome face on the other side of the door pulled at her. She’d missed him.
Jenny’s dilemma ended as she looked beyond Gabe to her approaching roommate. She bolted to the kitchen, yanked the dishwasher door open, turned the water on, and began scrubbing dishes.
“Jen, you home?” Cindy called out.
“In here.”
Cindy appeared in the kitchen doorway, with Gabe looking over her shoulder. She jerked a thumb toward him. “Look who I found outside. He says he’s a friend of yours.”
Casually dressed in jeans, a white polo shirt, and sneakers, Gabe flashed a tentative smile. “Hi.”
Smiling, Jenny turned the water off, then wiped her hands on a nearby dishtowel. “Yeah, I know him.”
“Well...” Cindy backed down the hallway. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
Suddenly alone, Jenny tugged at her worn T-shirt and propped one bare foot on top of the other as if hiding the fact that she was barefoot. Jenny suddenly wished she were one of those girls that put on makeup as soon as they rolled out of bed.
Gabe stood in her tiny kitchen, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, watching her reaction as if unsure of his welcome. “I was on my way back from a Tiger’s game, and... kind of ended up here. Want to get a Dairy Queen?”
Had he taken his kids or a date to the ballgame? Don’t be silly; he wasn’t the kid of guy to go from one woman to the next. Was he? “Did they win?”
“No. It was pretty boring, but Uncle George had free tickets.”
His uncle, she cheered. “Free’s hard to pass up. Where’s your uncle?”
“I ditched him. I’ll buy you a cone—or a blizzard, or you might want a sundae... whatever you want.” His voice trailed off.
Jenny inwardly smiled. He was nervous—how cute. She raised her eyebrows. “Large, chocolate-dipped?”
“Sure.”
Jenny passed him. “Let me get my shoes and a sweater.”
After she was suitably attired, Gabe pulled the apartment door closed behind them and followed her into the front yard. Although spring was here and they had the rains to prove it, the late afternoons held a definite chill.
Jenny drew in a deep breath of crisp, pure air and looked around, loving the way the new green leaves were beginning to unfold on the huge trees. The pale lime shoots contrasted against the dark brown branches, looking like delicate lacy veils covering the huge trees. Beautiful.
She hesitated as they approached the hearse. “Let’s walk. I could use the exercise.”
“How far is it?”
“Not more than a mile or two.”
“One way?” He stood on the sidewalk with keys in hand, looking at her in surprise. “You hate my car that much?”
“I don’t hate it.” She glanced away, rueful. “Exactly.”
Laughing, he pocketed his keys and took her hand. “I love your honesty. Lead the way.”
Jenny loved the way his larger hand dwarfed hers in a light, possessive hold. They walked down the block, with Jenny returning neighbors’ greetings.
“I started work at the clinic. I’ll be there every Tuesday,” Gabe announced.
“You did? That’s great.” He’d actually taken her suggestion to volunteer. She was flattered—and nervous. What if it didn’t work out? What if his car got broken into or his partners got mad at the loss of income, or if one of the indigent patients sued him? Would he blame her? “How was it?”
“Interesting. I treated a pregnant fifteen-year-old who didn’t tell anyone she was pregnant until she was eight months along, and there were the usual U.R.I.s—upper respiratory infections—and allergies, common this time of year. But then there was a guy who got beat up with a tire iron and a carpenter who shot himself in the thigh with a nail gun.”
“Yow.” She winced. “Sounds like they kept you busy.”
“For sure.”
“What do your partners think?”
“They’re not crazy about it. But they were mollified by a cut in my salary.”
She slowed and turned to him. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. I never thought—”
He squeezed and tugged her hand. “Don’t worry.”
“But your partners—”
“Are fine.”
She should have kept her big mouth shut. Now because of her Gabe was making less money. She peeked at him. With his loose stroll and relaxed expression, he didn’t seem concerned. Maybe he could afford it. “But you’re happy with your decision?”
“You know... I am,” he said, sounding like this was the first he’d recognized it. “I went into medicine, for the usual reasons—”
“Money?” She couldn’t resist ribbing him.
Gabe nodded, smiling. “Right, money. Anyhow, work had become so routine, I hadn’t realized how bored I was until you and the clinic came along.”
Her heart swelled with pride that he was crediting her with being a positive influence in his life. That was a first. But doubt crept back. “Don’t go thanking me yet. See how you like it a year from now.”
“Yeah, but I have a good feeling about it, like I do about you.” He smiled warmly and squeezed her hand. “My instincts about these things are never wrong.”
She hoped not ’cause she really liked him too.
As they approached the red and white hut, Gabe perused the ice cream selections. “What do you want?”
To continue that conversation about the good feelings you have for me, she thought. “Small vanilla cone, dipped please.”
“Small? What happened to large?”
She grinned and shrugged. “Just wanted to see if you were a big spender.”
They sat at a picnic bench licking their cones. “So if your instincts are never wrong, what happened with your first marriage?”
“We married and had kids too young.” He tossed the end of his orange sugar cone in the aluminum garbage can, wiped his face, and threw the paper napkin away. “She fell in love with another guy. We divorced. They had two more kids and have been happily married for the past ten years.”
“No waaay.” She couldn’t imagine any woman turning down Gabe for another guy. She’d had him; they had two kids together. She must have cared for him. How could she have broken his heart? “What about you?”
“The divorce was hard.” He nodded and pursed his lips. “But I adjusted. We all did.”
She stared at him, the ice cream in her hands forgotten. His dispassionate tone shocked her. His life had fallen apart, yet he recited it like recounting his morning dressing ritual. He’d lost not just a wife, but his whole family.
“You let them go, just like that? What about your kids?”
Gabe’s face darkened. “That’s how it works. An
d Dave’s a good man. What was I supposed to do, make her miserable staying with me? I loved Judith, but I wasn’t in love with her—not the way Dave loves her.” He paused letting his words sink in. “She deserved to be happy. So I let her go.”
Wow. His selfless logic blew her away. His wife fell in love with another man and he’d put her happiness above his own. Jenny looked at him, curious. “What about the kids?”
“What about them? They’ve got two dads. Dave’s a great father. He’s never tried to usurp my position with Ted and Alex, and he fills in for me whenever I have to work. I have joint custody. Now that they’re older and can drive, I never know when they’ll drop in on me.”
“Amazing.” Eyes locked on Gabe, she ignored the chilly ice cream dripping down her hand. She’d never been more attracted to a man. “You’re a very special guy, Doctor Harrison.”
Gabe brought her sticky hand to his mouth. With quick little strokes that faintly tickled, he licked the ice cream trailing down her fingers. At her quick intake of breath, he tilted his head so that his darkened gaze met hers. “You’re pretty special yourself, Ms. Campbell.”
“Gabe?” An older man on a mountain bike pulled up next to them. A Wayne State sweatshirt stretched tightly across his protruding belly. He swiped at the sweat running in rivulets down the sides of his flushed face to his jowls as he caught his breath. “I thought that was you. How’re you doing?”
Gabe released her hand, turned and nodded. “Fine, Ken. You?”
Jenny took the opportunity to throw out the rest of her cone and wipe her hand.
“Great, just out for a ride, trying to work off those old love handles. Taking my kids up north next weekend. My son thinks he’s gonna leave his old Pop in the dust.” He glanced at Jenny, nodding. “This must be your daughter. She’s beautiful—takes after her mother, eh?”
Daughter? She and Alex looked nothing alike. Jenny glanced at Gabe out of the corner of her eye to gauge his reaction.
“This is my friend, Jenny.” Unperturbed, Gabe turned to her. “Jenny, Ken. Ken’s Chief of Neurology at St. Francis. Been riding long, Ken?”