by Jill Shalvis
Rose lifted her chin, only her eyes reflecting her hurt. “Because I never had time for you.”
“Sure you did. After you retired from teaching ballet in London.” Melissa crossed her arms and looked away, knowing she looked defensive, but damn it, she felt defensive. “Look, thank you for all this, the cleaning and straightening up. But just because you got a bug to start acting like a mother to me doesn’t mean I have the same bug to act like your daughter.”
“But you are my daughter,” Rose said softly, coming out from behind the desk. She put her hands on Melissa’s arms, even though Mel stood there stiff as a board. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I was a selfish, horrible person when you were young, but for years now I’ve regretted that and you haven’t let me in.”
“I wasn’t ready.”
“I know. I know you’re still not, but baby, I’ve decided to stop letting you waste what time we have left.”
Melissa’s tummy dropped. “Are you…sick?”
“No,” Rose said quickly, with a little squeeze of her hands, her eyes shining. “But I want to hug you for that spurt of panic you just felt.”
Melissa took a step back. “That wasn’t panic. That was…me just being a healer.”
Rose smiled. “Know what I think?”
“I’d rather not.”
Rose held up the pink envelopes, every one of them, which Mel had rubber-banded and kept in her desk. “I think you’re going to like me.”
“Don’t push your luck.” Feeling hounded, Mel went to the front door and held it open.
Rose nodded and came close. “I can come back and sit at your front desk tomorrow, if you’d like.”
“Don’t you have something more important to do? Fly around the world? Dance? Something?”
“No. I only teach ballet on Saturdays.” Rose’s smile was as stubborn as…Mel’s.
Gee, guess she knew where she’d gotten it from.
“I have nothing more important than you,” Rose said softly. “Nothing.”
“Now.”
Rose’s smile faltered. “I was only eighteen when you were born. I—”
“No. Please. I don’t want to do this.” Her chest had tightened, along with her throat, and behind her eyes was a horrifying sting of tears. “I can’t.”
Rose stared at her for a long moment, then slowly nodded.
“I’m fine without you,” Mel said thickly. “I am.”
“Of course you are. It’s just that sometimes it’s easier to be fine if you’re not alone.”
“I like alone.”
Rose sighed, looked like she might say something else, but Mel opened the door wider in a not-too-subtle hint. “Good night,” Mel said.
“Good night.” Rose’s voice reflected her sadness.
Melissa turned away, no idea why she felt guilty. No idea at all.
A FEW DAYS LATER, Jason had just ordered himself a nice big cholesterol-filled breakfast at the Serendipity Café when Dr. Melissa Anders walked in, looking like her usual put-together, uptight self.
Just the sight of her made him smile.
She didn’t see him, mostly because she kept her eyes straight forward as she headed toward the counter, her sensible low heels clicking on the worn black-and-white checkered linoleum. He wondered if she saw the charm in the place that hadn’t been redecorated since sometime during John F. Kennedy’s era. This place with the jukebox and the red vinyl booths faded to a dark rose, the movie posters on the walls…it wasn’t some wannabe retro café, but the real deal.
But she didn’t take the time to look around, instead set her hands on the counter and ordered coffee.
The breakfast of champions.
Or the breakfast of a vet always in a hurry.
The waitress behind the counter smiled warmly at her, and thanked her again for fixing up her dog last week. Then the cook came out to ask her a question about his cat’s bowel movements. An older couple sitting at the counter told her a story about a kitten she’d delivered for them.
All the while Melissa seemed to squirm.
Jason’s smile widened just a bit. Poor baby. Give her a dying animal, or even one who just needed its shots, and she was in her element.
Give her humans to deal with and she wiggled like a five-year-old who’d downed too much apple juice. He decided to rescue her. “Melissa.”
Her short dark hair spun when she looked over at him. She remained cool, he’d give her that, but her eyes gave her away, going from quick surprise to a flash of awareness and excitement, to a wariness he wanted to kiss away.
He’d concentrate on that awareness and excitement. “Come sit down and eat with me.”
“I’m just having coffee.”
“You can’t work on just coffee. Marge, add another special to my order.”
Marge smiled. “Coming up.”
Melissa sighed but walked over to him. Standing, he reached for her hand, urged her to sit. Before she could protest, he’d slid into the same side of the booth with her.
When she shot him a look, he simply smiled. “I was thinking about you, and then in you walked. Fancy that.”
“Fancy that.” She glanced at his arm and the healing scratches. She made a show of craning her neck to look at his ear and the bites there from the parrot. “You’re healing nicely.”
“Is that your way of saying ‘how are you?”’
“I guess it is.”
“Well, then, I’m good,” he said, and stroked her cheek when she smiled.
Marge showed up with two full plates of food, set them down, popping her gum. “Gotta say, Doc,” she said to Melissa. “I’m enjoying seeing you actually sit and enjoy. Don’t take this wrong now, but you’re usually so…stoic. This morning, you seem real. It’s a good look on you.” She winked at Jason. “Keep it up.”
Melissa stared at him as she walked away. “What does that mean? I’m a real person all the time.”
“Sure you are. It’s just that sometimes you forget to show it, that’s all. You’re doing a great job lately though.” Picking up his fork, he dug into his scrambled eggs. “This is far better than staring at a blank page.”
“You’re having trouble with a book?”
“Plot trouble. Character trouble. Hell, I’ve even got font trouble.”
“What’s your story?”
He never talked about a book before he turned it in to his editor. But she was looking at him, sweet and curious, so what the hell. “My hero has a recurring nightmare about not being able to get home. It’s hell all night long, then every morning he wakes up covered in sweat, terrified. Only, as it turns out, it’s not a nightmare at all. It’s real. He’s not home and he can’t get there. I just can’t figure out why.”
They ate for a while in silence, and then Melissa said, “Maybe he doesn’t know how to get there.”
“Yes, but—” He stared at her. Thought about it, and suddenly laughed. “Yes. He doesn’t know how to get there—not physically, of course. But getting home is complicated by his past, his issues, his…everything.” He scratched his jaw. “Yeah.” He smiled. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” She pushed her food around. “It’s always easier to solve someone else’s problems, you ever notice that?”
“Oh, I’ve noticed. Tell me yours. Maybe I can solve one for you.”
“I’m fine.” She took a few quick bites, avoiding his gaze, breaking his heart.
“Melissa.” He put a hand over hers. “Come on, share.”
She pulled her hand free.
“I thought we were past the no-touching-allowed thing.”
“This is going to take some getting used to.” She pointed at him. “You’re going to take some getting used to.”
“Yeah.” He smiled. “I’ve been told.”
She sighed, then looked at him, that spark of awareness and a whole host of other things in her eyes now. “I’m trying to get used to you. I…I want to get used to you.”
His heart swelled
in his chest so that it hurt, it physically hurt, to look at her. “From you, that’s quite the declaration.”
That made her laugh. “How is it I feel like you know me so well after, what…a week?”
“Some things just are,” he said, shocked to find it so.
“Yeah.” She eyed him then rolled her eyes. “Do you really want to hear my problem?”
“Please.”
Her mouth curved into a reluctant smile. “I guess maybe I’m a little stressed. My office needs help I can’t give it. My mother showed up out of the blue and thinks she can help, that I ought to just let the past be the past and start anew. For some reason that I don’t really like to admit, I don’t feel like letting go of the past and giving in.” She released a breath. “So. How am I doing?”
Guilt was like a knife. “Good,” he said quietly, knowing he needed to tell her that he knew Rose, that he knew what Rose wanted from her, and in fact, knew the extremes she was willing to go to.
Instead, he leaned in and kissed her once, softly. He’d always been better at kissing instead of talking, and given her response, the quick intake of breath, the way her lips clung to his, the sleepy, sexy look in her eyes as he pulled back and looked into her face, she clearly felt the same way.
“Maybe you’re afraid of getting hurt,” he said very quietly, and held her hand when she would have pulled away. “I think it would be natural for you to be afraid of being hurt.”
“But it seems so…childish of me. I mean, I’m the one who moved here, to where she lives. I just can’t seem to stop myself from remembering how much I needed her years ago, back when she couldn’t be bothered.”
Here was his chance. He could explain how Rose had been forced by circumstance to walk away from Mel, how difficult it’d been for her, and how she regretted that decision made by a scared eighteen-year-old.
But he didn’t want to pressure or guilt Melissa into anything. He wanted these two women he cared very much about to find happiness together, not because one had been manipulated into it, but because they both wanted it to work. “Maybe…” He lifted their joined hands and kissed her fingers. “Maybe you’ll find a middle ground, where it can work for both of you.”
“Maybe,” she said, not seeming too hopeful on that score. “But I’ve gone this long without her, it seems silly to need her help now.”
“It’s never too late.”
She looked unhappy about that, and it occurred to him maybe she wasn’t used to asking for help. He thought of how she’d grown up, how she’d probably not had anyone just for her, to love her, and that made him ache for her. “Sometimes, Mel, you only have to ask.”
She was silent for a long time. “I’m not good at asking,” she finally said.
Oh, baby, he thought, no kidding you’re not good at it. “Maybe you could practice.”
“I like my life the way it is.”
He started to open his mouth.
“Just as it is,” she said firmly.
He cocked his head and sent her an easy grin. “You sure about that? Because things can always get better.” Tugging her close, he kissed her.
She went still for a beat, then kissed him back.
Afterward her eyes were doing that sexy sleepy thing again. “Okay, point taken.” She was just breathless enough to make him feel really good. “But for right now, I’ve got to get to the clinic.”
He walked her there, and as he watched her walk inside to face her day, he found himself wondering, hoping, that Rose had another animal for him. But nothing that slobbered, bit or scratched.
CHAPTER SIX
THE NEXT DAY went well for Melissa, if she discounted her out-of-control front desk and the fact that she was beginning to doubt she could do it all.
The amount of business she did every day meant that soon, very soon, she could run in the black and maybe actually make a living for herself.
It also meant she’d need help. The thought of hiring another person and learning to trust that person was enough to make her keep putting it off.
So by the end of the day, with her desk looking like a cyclone had hit and the front room looking like…well, like animals had lived in it all day, she stood there pleasantly exhausted and wondered how long it would take to straighten up before she could go home.
She hadn’t yet locked up when the front door opened. She turned with her welcoming doctor face on, and promptly burst out laughing.
Jason stood there, tall and lean and heart-stoppingly gorgeous, holding a leash attached to a potbellied pig. “Hi,” he said with a mischievous smile. “Got time for one more patient?”
“You are kidding me.”
“Nope.” He scratched his jaw. “Miss Piggy here needs her shots.”
“You have a pig?”
“Well…” Suddenly his smile was gone. “I’m doing a friend a favor.”
“Uh-huh.” She bent and scratched between the pig’s ears, who grunted in pleasure. “Hello, Miss Piggy,” she said softly. “Let’s get you all fixed up.” She straightened to her full height, which was to Jason’s shoulder, and he reached out, stroking her cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with such tenderness, she froze.
She liked his touch. She even…craved it. Not sure how that had happened, or why she’d let it, she smiled at him a little shakily and turned to move them into a patient room.
“Wait.” He held her there. “Hold up a second, I just want to look at you.” Slowly he shook his head, his gaze filled with heat, affection and a tenderness that made her throat burn. “Mel—”
“No, wait.” His closeness suddenly scared her, not physically, never physically, but she instinctively knew this wasn’t just a passing fancy, for either of them. “Are we doing this? Because I’ve got to—”
“Yes.” He pulled her a little closer, bringing his mouth down. “We’re doing this—”
She slapped a hand to his chest to hold him off. “I meant inoculating Miss Piggy. We have to do it now because I’ve got things to do—”
“Right. You’re a busy woman on the go.” He followed her to the patient room and left when she was done, just a few minutes later, without any more touches or teasing.
Feeling a little empty, and as if maybe she’d just been really stupid, she locked the front door after him, then set her forehead to it.
For the first time in her life, she had no idea what to do.
So she did what she did best—she buried herself in work.
THE NEXT DAY she got to the clinic her usual half hour early so she could try to wrestle the receptionist desk into order. She dreaded the task but had to face it.
She’d received another pink envelope, and a phone call in the same tone, in which Rose had said she wasn’t going to give up, not until Melissa gave in.
Melissa had honestly figured her mother would have lost interest by now. Or at the very least, have gotten frustrated and annoyed.
As she turned on the lights and music, and then inhaled her first whiff of Lysol, the phones started. Before she could blink, she had two dogs, a cat and a family of rabbits waiting to be seen, and the paperwork was overflowing on her desk again.
Feeling unaccustomedly harried, she took in the front room, wincing a little at the mess.
From behind her came a set of heels clicking on the floor. Rose stood there wearing a sunshine-yellow sundress with matching accessories—purse, earrings, and sandals. Her hands were clasped together in what might have been a show of nerves. “I’m hoping you need my help this morning.” Rose’s eyes took in the mess of the office but didn’t say a word.
It’s never too late to need help.
Jason had told her that, something Mel had thought about all night long.
All you have to do is ask.
Why did that have to be so hard? Because she was out of practice. No, that wasn’t it. Truth was, she’d never been in practice. When she’d been two, if she’d wanted something high on a shelf, she’d crawled to get it herself. When sh
e’d been four and needed her shoes tied, she’d carefully slipped in and out of the already knotted shoes. When she’d been eight and walking home alone, dodging the occasional taunt or harassment of an older kid, she’d walked faster. And when she’d needed help with her homework, she’d simply studied harder.
Asking for help wasn’t in her realm of experience, and the thought of doing it now stuck in her throat.
Behind her, the phone started ringing. A puppy whined. The sound softened her. She was here for the animals.
Rose was still standing there, eyes hopeful.
Okay, fine. “Obviously, I haven’t hired a receptionist.”
Rose nodded. “So are you…asking?”
“I’m not ready to make a permanent decision.”
“I see.”
The phone kept ringing, joined now by Mel’s second line. Perspiration broke out on her brow. “But…I do need a temp, at least for today.”
Rose kept her face carefully neutral. “Could you spell it out for me? I don’t want to assume anything here.”
“I’m asking you, for—” she drew in a deep breath “—help. I need your help.”
The smile Rose sent her was shimmery with emotion. Before Melissa could draw another breath, she found herself engulfed in Rose’s arms, squeezed close and hard.
“Thank you,” Rose whispered fiercely.
Mel pried free from her tight grip. “Sure.”
“Sorry,” Rose said, looking anything but. “I like to hug.”
“I don’t. The phone is ringing. That falls in your category. Can you really do this?”
“Yep. Get the phones, handle the paperwork, and no hugging.” Rose moved toward the desk. “That last one is going to be the hardest, though.”
Melissa ignored that and surveyed her patients. She couldn’t handle her mother right now, didn’t know how to handle her mother right now, so she wouldn’t.
But she had a feeling Rose wouldn’t let that go for long.
THAT NIGHT Mel left the clinic earlier than usual. This, she had to admit, was because Rose had been worth her weight in gold.
Standing on the steps looking toward her car, she blinked like an owl. The sun was still up. The day still had hours in it.
