Summer of Love

by Marie Ferrarella

  And tricky was the best way she could think of to characterize her and Clint’s relationship.

  There was no way she could be falling for Clint all over again. They hadn’t seen each other in over twenty years. But as they’d worked together, treating patients at the fair, there’d been a feeling of rightness. A rightness that had continued when they’d made love at her house a week later.

  Except feelings didn’t always mean anything, at least where she was concerned, because she’d always had a thing for Clint. Even back in high school.

  It didn’t make a difference then, Jessi, and it’s not going to make a difference now. He’s going to leave. Just you wait and see.

  All those confused feelings had to do with Clint being her first. After all, you never really forgot your first love, right? And she had loved Chelsea’s father. Very much. If it hadn’t been for their argument, Larry would still be alive. Would she even be giving Clint a second glance if he were?

  Something else she didn’t want to think about because it just made her feel that much worse.

  The man in question was seated in one of the cushioned chairs in the hospital waiting room, elbows on his knees, watching her pace. She went over to him. “How do you think it’s going?”

  One corner of his mouth turned up. “You mean since the last time you asked me? All of five minutes ago?” He patted the chair next to him. “Why don’t you sit down? Wearing a hole in the linoleum isn’t going to help anyone right now.”

  She blew out a breath, worry squeezing into every available brain cell and wiping away any other thoughts. Plopping down in the chair, she leaned back and closed her eyes. “What if Mom or Chelsea finds out what we’ve done?”

  “Where did that come from?” His arm went around her shoulders and eased her closer.

  “I just don’t want to make anything worse for either of them.”

  “No one’s going to find out.”

  “Larry did.” She was immediately sorry she’d said it when his body stiffened.

  “Sorry, Clint. I’m just worried.”

  “I know.” He sighed. “You need to stop pacing.”

  Her eyes opened, and she cranked her head to the right to look at him. “I already did.”

  “Not there.” He nodded at the floor, then his fingers went to her temple and rubbed in slow circles. “I mean up here. You’re driving yourself crazy. Nobody’s going to find out, unless one of us tells them. And I don’t see that happening.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured. “You’ve been a lot cooler about all of this than I have any right to expect.”

  He chuckled. “Cool, huh? I don’t know if I would call it that, exactly.”

  She wasn’t sure what he meant by that, and she was too nervous to try to figure it out right now. All she knew was that she was glad he was there with her.

  Jessi leaned into Clint a little bit more, allowing herself to absorb a little of the confident energy he exuded. That energy was something that had drawn her to him as a high school student, and it wasn’t any less potent now.

  “How long are they going to be?”

  “Jess, it takes time. The doctors felt pretty sure going in that everything was going to run according to plan.”

  “Yes, but anything could happen.” Even as she said it, she allowed her eyelids to slide together, letting his clean scent wash through her, canceling out the sharp bite of disinfectant and illness that came with being at a hospital. She was used to those smells, for the most part, but right now, when she was worried about her mother, they were reminders that sometimes things went wrong, and people died.

  “It could, but it probably won’t. I think she’s going to be just fine.”

  His words were so inviting, offering up a reality that was in stark contrast to the gloomy paths her own thoughts were circling.

  “I hope you’re right.”

  This time when her eyelids slid closed, she allowed them to stay like that, lulled by his easy assurances.

  Maybe because that’s what she wanted to believe.

  Either way, she found herself emptying her mind of anything that didn’t revolve around the man beside her. And of how right, and good, and … restful it felt to be with him right now.

  Dangerous to let him know that, though.

  A hand squeezing hers brought her back. She blinked, the harsh glare of the overhead lights flooding her system.

  Heavens, she’d fallen asleep. While her mom was undergoing bypass surgery.

  “Jess, the doctor is heading this way.”

  She jerked her head off his shoulder so fast she thought it was going to bounce to the floor and roll down the hall. Dragging her attention to the present, she glanced past the wide door of the waiting room to see that her mom’s doctor was indeed striding toward them, no longer wearing his scrubs.

  Standing, she waited for him to reach her, vaguely aware that Clint had climbed to his feet beside her, his fingers at the small of her back as if knowing she still needed that connection.

  Even before the doctor reached them, he flashed a thumbs-up sign and a smile. “Everything went really well, better than we could have hoped for, actually,” he said. “The harvested vein went in without a hitch and her heart is going strong. She should feel better than she’s felt in quite a while. Her other arteries still look pretty good. With a change in diet and exercise, hopefully they’ll stay that way for a long time to come.”

  Relief rushed through her system. “So she’s going to be okay?”

  The doctor nodded. “Absolutely. Barring anything unforeseen, we’ll release her in the next few days. She’ll need someone home with her for about a week after that. We checked her insurance, and it’ll cover a home nurse.”

  “Thank you so much. When can I see her?”

  He smiled. “She’s in Recovery at the moment. You know the routine. Once she’s moved into a room, we’ll let you see her.” For the first time his glance slid smoothly to Clint. “But just you right now.”

  The touch at her back moved away.

  Chelsea hurried to make the introductions, but left out why Clint was there, waiting with her.

  The surgeon held out a hand. “Dr. Marks, good to meet you. I served as an army doc before moving over to private practice. I appreciate all you do for our military.”

  She tensed, wondering if Clint would question why he’d moved when there was so much need—much like she’d done when she’d heard about Dr. Cordoba resigning his commission. All Clint said, though, was, “I’m happy to do it. The country needs both civilian and military doctors. I’m glad you were there for Jessi’s mom.”

  If Dr. Leonard thought it was strange that Clint was there with her or that he’d called her by her first name, he gave no hint of it. He simply nodded and let them know he’d send a nurse out to get Jessi when her mother was settled in. Then he turned around and headed back the way he’d come.

  She glanced up at Clint. “Thanks for waiting with me. If you need to get back to the hospital, I understand.”

  “I already told you, I’m done for the day. I’ll stay and make sure everything is okay.”

  “Thanks again.” She bit the side of her lip. “Sorry for falling asleep on you. I can’t believe I did that.”

  His fingers touched her back again. “You’ve been carrying a lot of weight around on those strong shoulders, Dr. Riley. Maybe it’s time you let someone else help with the load from time to time.”

  Was he offering his services in that regard? And if he was, did she dare let him?

  Maybe she already had just by accepting his offer to be here during the surgery.

  “I’m sorry you’ve gotten dragged into my family’s problems. Both in high school and now.”

  He turned her and laid his hands on her shoulders—ignoring everyone else in the room. “No one ‘dragged’ me.” He squeezed softly before letting her go. “Either then or now. I’m here because I want to be.”

  And later, after Chelsea was better. Would
he still be there?

  Something she didn’t dare even think about at the moment. Because who knew when that would be. It could be years before Chelsea was well enough to function without the help of someone like Clint. Although she imagined the emphasis would be on counseling later, if there came a time that she didn’t need medication to help her cope.

  And Jessi knew how things worked in the military. Clint would be transferred out of here, either sooner or later, whereas she had settled her life in Richmond for the long haul. Her mom and daughter were here—not to mention Cooper—and she couldn’t imagine leaving them.

  Not even for Clint?

  She stepped back a pace, not willing to face that question quite yet. Besides, there was nothing between them other than what boiled down to a couple of one-night stands.

  One-night stands.

  Why did that explanation make her throat ache in a way it hadn’t all those years ago?

  Hadn’t it? Her subconscious whispered the question into her ear, but Jessi raised a hand and swished it away, making Clint frown.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yes. Just relieved.” She took another step back. “Seriously, you don’t have to sit here with me. I’m sure you’ve got other things to do.”

  His frown grew deeper. “If you’re worried about Chelsea or your mom finding out, don’t. I won’t tell them I was here unless you want me to.”

  “No!” She cleared her throat and lowered her voice when she realized a couple of pairs of eyes in the waiting room had shifted their way. “I don’t want to have to explain why.”

  Because she wasn’t even sure of the answer, and she was afraid to look too closely at the possibilities. She might just discover something she was better off not knowing.

  She’d already had her heart broken. Not once. But twice. Once by Clint and once by her husband’s accusations. She didn’t want to risk another crack in an already fragile organ.

  Clint’s voice was also low when he responded. “I already said I wouldn’t say anything. So don’t worry about it.”

  But he sounded a little less confident than he had a few minutes ago, when he’d assured her that her mother would be just fine.

  “Thanks.”

  They both sat down, but this time without talking, and Clint didn’t put his arm back around her. She tried to tell herself she was glad. But deep inside it made her feel lonely, yearning for something she was never going to have.

  And what was that exactly?

  A relationship with Clint?

  Those four words caused a shudder to ripple through her. Her arms went around her waist, even though the waiting room wasn’t chilly.

  God, she hoped that’s not what she was looking for. Because that wasn’t on the cards for her or for Clint. Going down that road would be a recipe for disaster.

  She would do better on that front, starting now. Despite her earlier thoughts, she needed to start relying on Clint less than she currently was.

  The problem was, Jessi honestly didn’t know how she was going to back away when the time came.

  Because that crack in her heart was just waiting for an excuse to widen. And she had a feeling it was already far too late to stop that from happening. The crowbar was there in hand, poised and ready.

  Or maybe it wasn’t her hand that wielded that power at all.

  What if, in the end, Clint was the one to decide if her heart came apart in jagged pieces or remained intact?

  When the nurse finally came down to tell her her mom was awake and ready to see her, Jessi was relieved to be able to walk away from her spinning, panicked thoughts … and to put her attention firmly where it should have been all along: on her mom and Chelsea … and off Clint.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  THE SUN WAS peeking out from between heavy storm clouds. Both figuratively and literally. At least as far as Chelsea was concerned. A good omen.

  Jessi’s mom was home and recovering after her bypass surgery. Clint had seen Jessi in passing, but she had her hands full at the moment with her job, her mom and her daughter.

  Which brought him back to the item on his desk.

  Transfer papers.

  Or rather a request to terminate his temporary assignment in Richmond and head back to Cali, where, from what he’d read on the internet that morning, all was sunny and bright. Not a cloud in sight.

  And, hell, he could use a little more light right now to clear his head.

  To sign or not to sign, that was the question.

  No, it wasn’t. He’d eventually put in that request. It was only a matter of time. And willpower.

  Willpower he’d been sorely lacking in the past several weeks. To stay would be a mistake. Something he’d convinced himself of time and time again.

  His presence here in Richmond brought back memories of not-so-happy times for all of them.

  How many times had Jessi mentioned Larry’s name? Hell, he hadn’t even known the man had died when he’d arrived here, much less the reason for it. And Jessi had been carrying that around for all these years.

  And being here with her was a definite reminder of his own bitter childhood. People from his past knew more than he’d realized—judging from Mrs. Spencer’s comments at dinner. They’d evidently talked amongst themselves about his father’s problems.

  And Clint’s explosive reactions when he was around Jessi? Also reminders of what a lack of control could cause—had caused. He might have enjoyed it at the time, but there were consequences for everything in this life.

  He’d have to leave some time or other. Why not now? Chelsea was scheduled to be released from the hospital next week. She’d continue her sessions as an outpatient … a victory he should be cheering, instead of acting like he was about to be shot off to the moon, never to be heard from again.

  Maybe he’d request deployment instead. That should take him far enough away. Or he could just let the army decide where he was needed, rather than ask to return to San Diego.

  Chelsea popped her head in, as if she’d heard his thoughts. “Have you heard anything about my grandmother yet?”

  He slid the transfer papers beneath a file folder, not willing to let her see it. No need to cause a panic. It would take time for the orders to go through, anyway.

  “No, just that she’s been released.” He smiled at her. “And you really should learn to knock, young lady. I could have been with a patient.”

  He motioned at the chair across from his desk.

  Her lips twisted. “You’re right. Sorry.”

  “No problem.” He tapped the eraser end of his pencil on the smooth gray surface of the desk, the hidden papers glaring at him from their hiding place. “As I was saying, your grandmother seems to be doing pretty well, according to your mom. She just has to take it easy for a few weeks.”

  Just like he did. He’d seen firsthand the problems that jumping into something with both feet could bring.

  “Hmm …”

  “And what does that sound mean?” He forced a light smile, although it felt like the corners of his mouth were weighted down with chunks of concrete.

  Chelsea’s own light attitude vanished. “I was hoping to do something, but I guess it can wait until Nana’s feeling better.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe. I was telling Paul that I’d like to hold a memorial service for my … for the baby. He said he’d like to come. So did some of the others in our group.”

  Paul Ivers, a young man who’d moved over to sit by Chelsea during one of their group sessions. When had this particular conversation taken place?

  “I don’t see why that couldn’t happen at some point.”

  “I’d want you there as well, if that’s okay. You’ve helped me so much.”

  “I haven’t done anything, Chelsea. You’ve come this far under your own power. I’ve just been here to listen and facilitate.”

  “Maybe you don’t think you’ve done much, but I do. And you said y
ou knew each other before. I asked Mom about that, and she said you, she and my dad were all in school together. My dad’s not here anymore, so it would mean a lot if someone who knew him came.”

  Me and Larry, neck and neck.

  He’d been a stand-in for the man back then. The last thing he wanted was to be one now.

  Was that what he’d been when he’d made love to Jessi back at her house? A stand-in for a man who was dead and gone? A man whose death he’d helped cause?

  “Please, Dr. Marks?” Chelsea’s voice came back again.

  Clint sat there, conflicted. He believed in keeping his word whenever possible, something his father had never seen fit to do.

  In fact, a lot of the strict rules governing his life had come about because of his dad’s poor judgment. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. Those rules had served him well, until he’d come back to Richmond. “I can’t promise anything, Chelsea, but if I’m still here, I’d love to come.”

  Her eyes widened then darkened with fear. “You’re thinking of leaving?”

  He hurried to put her mind at ease. “I simply meant if you hold the service five years from now, there are no guarantees I won’t have been transferred somewhere else by then.”

  His buzzer went off before he had time to think.

  When he answered, his assistant said, “Mrs. Riley is here.”

  His already tense muscles tightened further. Hearing Jessi referred to as Mrs. anything stuck in his craw.

  Jessi Marks. Now, that had a nice ring to it.

  No, it didn’t.

  Hell. This day was turning out to be anything but the good omen he’d hoped for fifteen minutes earlier. It was morphing into a damned nightmare.

  “Oh, good,” said Chelsea. “We can ask her what she thinks.”

  Perfect. He had a feeling Jessi was going to love this almost as much as he did.

  He responded to his assistant, rather than to his patient. “Send her in.”

  Jessi scooted through the door, her face turning pink when she spied her daughter sitting in one of the chairs. Then her eyes crinkled in the corners. “Hi, sweetheart. I was just headed down to see you.”