Some Lucky Woman

by Carmen DeSousa

  Again with the “you sure” comment. Did that mean that if this — whatever we were doing — didn’t end well it would be my fault? Hell, what’s the worst thing that could happen? It’s not as though we worked together, where one of us would have to find a new job.

  Decided, I said, “Sure.” I took the pizza from him with my left hand, then ambled off to the door.

  Dr. Kijek naked in my house, in my shower. Was I sure? Not completely, but I knew Angela was right. Adrian had gotten under my skin.

  Adrian caught up quickly and took the pizza from me, setting it on the kitchen counter. “Do you mind if I shower before we eat?”

  “Not at all. I’ll open a bottle of wine.” Which meant no Percocets again, but I just realized I’d slept okay last night. I’d been ready to get up when my alarm went off. I directed Adrian to my son’s room, which had a private shower. “Help yourself to whatever you need. Eric won’t mind.” Just a few weeks ago, Eric had insisted that I needed to start dating again, said it wasn’t right that I was all alone, and how he wished he could be more helpful while I was going through all of this. Of course, I’d given my son the same response about dating that I’d given Angela. And now here I stood, inviting Adrian into my house. Again.

  “Eric?” Adrian inquired.

  “My nineteen-year-old son,” I clarified, letting him know he wasn’t stepping into a single-mother situation, which I knew scared off many men. “Eric attends UCF, so he only comes home once or twice a month to wash his clothes.”

  Adrian threw his head up with a laugh. “I remember those days.”

  Releasing a breath, I stepped back, allowing him to close the door.

  I made my way to my own bathroom, doing my best to rinse off quickly so I could beat Adrian back to the kitchen.

  Hung up between what to wear and whether or not to put on makeup, though, I knew I wouldn’t beat him so I concentrated on what to wear. “The high and tight Knights sweatshirt Eric had given me, or the Pink brand, fall-off-the-shoulder sweatshirt?” I asked in a whisper.

  J’Austen just stared at me from her afghan at the end of the bed, as if to say, “Neither. Kick him out.”

  “Why so grouchy? Adrian likes you.”

  She blinked, which I took as an eye roll.

  “Honestly, baby, you guys are a lot alike. You’d probably like each other.”

  Nothing. No meow. No purr. She was definitely ticked.

  “Fine. I’ll make my own decision then. Victoria’s Secret, it is!” I pulled on the pink sweatshirt and a new pair of yoga pants and made my way to the kitchen.

  Adrian had changed into a pair of faded-in-all-the-right-places jeans and a simple black T-shirt. He smelled like a mountain stream again, so it hadn’t been my imagination the previous evening. I decided it must be his cologne, since no man could smell that good right out of the shower.

  He stepped forward and rested his hands on my hips. “You look amazing. You got some sun today. It looks good on you.”

  My heart rate sped up a notch. When was the last time a man told me that I looked amazing? Online, yes. But Connie only posted flattering pictures of me. Adrian was complimenting me when I didn’t have a speck of makeup on.

  “Thanks. I guess that’s what being a hermit will do. I was starting to look like Gollum, and I might have even referred to my laptop as my precious a time or two. Other than PT, I haven’t stepped out of my house in months.”

  He brushed my damp hair off my shoulder, then rested his hand against my cheek. “Not even close. But why? What are you hiding from?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just in so much pain that I’m afraid it makes me grouchy. My cousin Angela has been a godsend. She shops for me and drives me to PT.”

  Adrian smiled, then kissed my forehead. “You’re not grouchy. Actually, you’re rather a chatterbox. I’m the one who was grouchy. No matter how snippy I acted those first few days, though, you pushed past my attempts at ignoring you.”

  I leaned back, hoping to discover the real reason he’d shunned me at first. “Why were you snippy?”

  “It’d been a really bad week. Then I saw your name. Celebrities can be real pains in the arse. I hoped that the name was just a coincidence, and then when I saw how beautiful you were … Well, I just didn’t feel like proving myself to another celebrity. You can imagine how often I get treated like a glorified gym rat.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “No, I can’t. Really?”

  “Yes. But not you. You immediately recognized my credentials, insisted on calling me Doctor, even if I hated it.” He laughed. “And then you were so different from the person I thought you were. From the person who’d written a book about hating men.”

  “I didn’t —”

  Adrian placed his fingers over my mouth. “I was wrong. I’m sorry. I just …”

  “Just what?”

  “I’d heard of you before you stepped inside my office.”

  Ah-ha! I knew it. Someone had spoken badly about me. “Who trashed me?”

  “No one. It wasn’t like that.” Adrian dipped his head and kissed me lightly on the lips, then quickly pulled back. “Hey, let’s eat.”

  I was positive that he was holding back something. It just didn’t make sense that he would treat any patient as coldly as he’d treated me. But today had been too wonderful to dwell on the past, so I allowed Adrian to pull me to the kitchen.

  After we’d eaten and cleaned up the few plates, Adrian led me back to the lanai again. Being with Adrian felt so comfortable that for some completely-out-of-character-for-me reason, I wanted to suggest that we head straight to the bedroom, but sex on a full stomach wasn’t much fun. One of those things you learned after being married for a while. Often, we’d both make a choice between dessert and sex. My ex would raise his eyebrow, as if asking, and if I said, go ahead, it usually meant that it was that time of the month, or I just wasn’t in the mood. Oh, and the fact that I simply would never dream of going to bed with a man I’d only just met, no matter how comfortable I felt with Adrian.

  Adrian sat down in the same spot where he’d sat last night, but this time he kept hold of my hand, coaxing me down next to him.

  I didn’t challenge him. His kisses had been too good, and I was anxious to feel his warm lips again.

  He pressed his hand to my cheek, but didn’t move in for a kiss as I had expected; instead, he just gazed into my eyes. “Do you know how much I want you right now?”

  Not what I’d expected. But it was sexy in a just-throw-out-your-feelings kind of way. “Umm …”

  Adrian moved his thumb over my lips. “That was rhetorical. It doesn’t require an answer.” He smiled, kissed me lightly, then pulled back again. “I want to take you into your bedroom right now, Jana, but —”

  “I …” I didn’t know what to say, but I felt I should say something. Was he asking me? Is that what I wanted? “Adrian, I —”

  He hushed me again with another quick kiss. “I don’t even want to know if you’d be okay with me leading you to your bedroom, so please don’t comment, okay? Because it can’t happen. Not yet. I’m your doctor, and although there’re no set rules in the Code of Ethics for Physical Therapists that forbid dating, I’m supposed to set the standard for all employees.”

  “Oh …”

  “I’m sorry, Jana. I didn’t plan this when I jumped between you and your ex-husband. I just hated the thought of some stranger harassing you. Then you mentioned kayaking, something I hadn’t done in forever, and you made me laugh. I really didn’t expect to like you —”

  I cut him off with a sigh this time. And there it was again. He had hated me at first. I wish he’d just admit it. “So you, what? Pitied me?”

  “No … Not at all. I just wanted —”

  “What, Adrian? Wanted to get back at me for writing a book? What did you want?”

  “I don’t want this to end, Jana. I just know we can’t go any further.”

  “What if I found another therapist?”

  �
�That’d probably be the end of referrals from Dr. Bellows.” A soft smile lifted his cheeks. “Please don’t leave me … my practice. Just give me some time, okay? We can still … I don’t know … hang out. I enjoyed kayaking with you today. But if we go further, it’ll change everything. Sex always changes everything.”

  This time I couldn’t help but smile. “How do you know I’d let you take me to bed?”

  He brushed his hand across my cheek. “As I said, I don’t want to know. Because whether you wanted to or not, I know what I want, the reason I have to go. I’m simply not that strong.”

  I stood. I was strong. I’d had to learn to be strong years ago.

  Taking his glass of wine from him, I set it on the table and escorted him to the door.

  He turned. “As I said, I still want to see you.”

  “You’ll see me Monday at nine-thirty, as always.” I opened the door, and he stepped out.

  He smiled, so he obviously wasn’t offended by my comment. “Good night, Jana.”

  “Good night, Adrian,” I said, then shut the door. J’Austen would be proud.

  Chapter 23 – Worth the Wait

  I jumped into my Tacoma, ecstatic that I had my driving privileges back. I still couldn’t use my right arm too well, but I’d all but stopped taking Percocets, except for the nights that I absolutely couldn’t fall asleep, so I felt I was capable behind the wheel again.

  Dr. Kijek and I carried on with our normal routine, but I was careful not to stare too long or laugh too loudly at any of his comments. The last thing I wanted was someone to think we were having an affair. But I sure enjoyed the sweet text messages he’d sent, making sure I was doing okay, and that the kayak trip hadn’t been too difficult on my arm. Talk about house calls. I could get used to having a personal masseuse.

  The next visit — after I’d thoroughly ignored him on the first appointment after our kayak date — he bent over and whispered in my ear while he was massaging my shoulder. “Can I see you tonight?”

  I tried to slow the pounding in my chest, certain that every patient and therapist in the room would know. “Yes,” I whispered back.

  “Your house okay? Around six?”

  It felt as though we were having an affair. I hated to admit it, but it was kind of sexy. “Okay,” I said. “Don’t eat first.”

  He smiled and went back to stretching my arm.

  ***

  Adrian showed up at six o’clock on the dot, a bottle of Merlot tucked under his arm, a bouquet consisting of roses, lilies, and daisies, all in a warm array of autumn colors, in his outstretched hand, and a small container of something in his other hand.

  I accepted the flowers, opening the door wider so he could come in. “Thank you. They’re beautiful. You didn’t have to do that.”

  He shrugged. “I wanted to.” He held up the plastic container. “Where’s J’Austen?”

  I laughed. “Ahh … bribery. I get flowers; she gets treats. Just shake the bottle.”

  Adrian shook the bottle, and within seconds J’Austen ventured into the foyer. She knew the sound. It’s how I coaxed her back inside when she hid in the lanai.

  Adrian poured out a few treats in front of my cat, then turned back to me. “You look incredible. Getting your exercises in, I see.”

  Wondering what he meant, I tilted my head in question.

  “Your face is flushed,” he answered my unasked question.

  “Oh.” I was pretty sure my blush deepened, simply because he’d noticed. “Yeah. Six times a day, a smart doctor I know insisted.”

  Adrian took the flowers from me and set the bouquet and the wine on the credenza, then pushed the door closed with his foot. He reached for my hand and pulled me to the sofa with him, his lips immediately finding mine.

  After a few minutes, he pulled back. “God, I missed you. Only a couple of days, and I felt like I was going to have withdrawals.”

  I smacked his chest. “Stop teasing me. I’ve all but stopped taking Percocets. I only take them at night if I absolutely can’t sleep, which is usually the days I see you. I know you’re helping me, but I hurt after our sessions.”

  “I’m sorry. Part of the process, I’m afraid. But teasing you? Jana, I’m not teasing you when I say I think about you every minute of the day and night.”

  “Oh …” I wasn’t sure what else to say. I wanted to say, So break your silly rule of dating patients, since it isn’t in the “code of ethics.” But, I wouldn’t do that. I was a new factor in his life. What right did I have to tell him how to run his business? And to be honest, I kind of liked taking it easy, getting to know each other as friends. A friend who brought flowers, wine, and treats for my kitty, who also shared my love of kayaking and was a wonderful kisser and great at giving massages. Adrian was my kind of friend.

  “Oh?” he repeated. “That’s all you have to say?”

  “I don’t know what to say, Adrian.” I certainly didn’t want to tell him all the things I’d just thought. “You’re in a delicate situation. And since I’m a homebody right now, I’m okay with us hanging out around my house … as friends.” I took his hand and stood, leading him to the kitchen.

  Adrian followed without further comment, which wasn’t surprising, since he’d set the ground rules. Rules I was prepared to follow. I wasn’t going to push him. I’d play the modern woman, I decided, the kind of woman who didn’t need a commitment.

  Once in the kitchen, I showed him the mini buffet I’d put together. “I hope you like southwestern food. I thought it’d be fun to have a buffet-style meal.”

  He wrapped his arm around my waist. “Love it. Where do I start?”

  I handed him a plate and uncovered the hot pans of tortilla boats, rice, black beans, and shredded grilled chicken. “Just fill up your soft-taco boats with the hot items you like, then top them with the cold items.” I uncovered the tray of cheese, shredded lettuce, diced tomatoes, jalapeños, and sour cream and salsa.

  “This looks awesome. It must have taken hours to put this together. I’m sorry. I didn’t plan for you to go through all this work when I invited myself over.”

  As much as I wanted to take the credit for hours of work, I felt it wouldn’t be right to hold back the truth. Even though I didn’t feel that this situation fell under an-omission-of-the-truth-was-still-a-lie category, I wanted to be honest, and I didn’t want him to think I was trying to show him what a great homemaker I was. I just wanted a chance to do something I loved to do: cook. “Actually, all I do is heat up the chicken and beans and season them. Everything is pre-cooked or pre-diced. I’ve learned to make simple meals.”

  “Well, it looks great.” Adrian kissed me on the cheek and picked up a spoon.

  He really was quite the gentleman, which made me wonder about his parents being old-school. Clearly, they’d instilled a love of family, for him to be so sweet and willing to work in his father’s chosen career.

  We carried our plates out to the lanai, sitting across from each other. I’d already set out glasses of wine.

  Adrian picked up his glass and held it up. “To first impressions.”

  I tapped my glass against his, but shook my head. “What does that mean?”

  “If I hadn’t been such a jerk, you probably wouldn’t have tried so hard to talk to me, and we would have nothing more than a doctor-patient relationship.”

  “What exactly do we have, Adrian?”

  He smiled. “I’m not sure, Jana, but I want you to know that I’ve never taken any other patient home from a bar, kayaking, or met for dinner.”

  “Fair enough.” Don’t push, I reminded myself. I took a sip of wine, then bit into my taco shell. The last thing I was going to do was push for a real answer to my question. I’d been married long enough to learn a thing or two about men. Most importantly: let them know you’re interested in them and their feelings, but don’t push them to talk.

  After dinner, we snuggled on the swing again, kissed for a while, talked about books and physical therapy, a
nd then Adrian excused himself for the night.

  I’d never dated a man that didn’t push for anything other than a good-night kiss. Even the men who hadn’t made it past my curb had insinuated coming in for sex, the reason I knew I couldn’t invite them in for just a drink.

  Even J’Austen allowed him to scratch her behind the ears before he left.

  Somehow, Adrian had won us both over.

  ***

  Adrian stood above me, letting the freezing water from his hair drip all over my hot skin.

  “Yikes!” I screeched. The sun was warm enough to lounge around my pool in a bikini, but how he enjoyed swimming in ice water was beyond me.

  “Come on, Jana, swim with me.”

  “Tempting as that is, no thanks.” I toweled myself off. “I don’t enjoy sub-zero temperatures. Florida girl, remember?”

  Adrian nudged me to the side so he could sit on the edge of my lawn chair. “You get used to it, I swear.” He bent over and kissed my lips. “Mmm … You’re hot.”

  I smiled. “Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.” I’d been enjoying our tête-à-tête and sexy innuendos.

  He grinned back, then lowered his freezing body beside my perfectly warm skin.

  “You’re freezing,” I complained.

  “You know the best way to warm up, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, with a towel.” I pushed him back and handed him a towel. Since I knew he didn’t plan to get naked with me, I didn’t see any reason to let him tempt me any more than he’d already been doing for the last few weeks.

  “If you insist.” Adrian wrapped the towel around his waist, then trotted off toward the kitchen, probably to get some more pizza. J’Austen followed, knowing he’d give her a treat while he was inside. I swore the man ate every hour or so, and yet, his body remained in tip-top shape.

  And I did insist that he keep his hot body away from me. I’d been patient, not suggesting that we put a stamp on our relationship, but it was starting to drive me crazy. I understood that he wanted to set an example for his employees, but what difference did it make if we weren’t an item, if he was at my house almost every evening? He never stayed the night, but nearly every evening at six o’clock, he’d show up. Of course, he’d made sure that I was okay with him coming by — which I was — but it just didn’t make sense. Then again, he’d said that sex changes everything, and typically the next step after securing a relationship was sex. He was right, I guessed. If we started a relationship and then had sex, and something happened, I guess I wouldn’t be okay with him putting his hands on me, even just to stretch me. I cringed internally at the idea of my ex-husband touching me, so Adrian was correct.