by Judy Duarte
“Good morning,” she said. “You’re up early.”
He turned and smiled. “Yeah, well I couldn’t sleep. So I showered. And since neither of us had much for dinner last night, I thought I’d come in here and whip up some scrambled eggs. You didn’t have bacon, but I found some red potatoes and English muffins. I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s fine.” In fact, it was great. Not only was he a good lover, but he knew his way around a kitchen.
He was also thoughtful. If he’d already showered and dressed, he must have gone out of his way to keep quiet.
She appreciated his consideration, until she imagined him as a bachelor again, with more women coming in and out of his life than he could count. And if that were the case, then he’d probably had a lot of practice getting out of bed quietly and slipping away in the middle of the night.
But the moment that thought arose, she tamped it down and scolded herself for making such a negative, not to mention unfair, assumption. After all, Javier hadn’t taken off while she’d slept. He’d merely surprised her by fixing breakfast.
“Can I help?” she asked.
“I’ve got everything under control, although you could pour us each a cup of coffee.”
She strode to the cupboard, pulled out two blue mugs, then filled them with the fresh morning brew. She remembered the decaf she’d made last night and smiled. They’d forgotten all about it in the heat of the moment, so he must have thrown it out this morning and started from scratch.
“Do you take cream or sugar?” she asked as she filled the cups.
“No. I like mine black.”
She handed him the first mug, then added a bit of sweetener to hers, as well as a dab of creamer.
As she reached for a spoon, she wondered how to broach the subject of the future. And to ask one of several questions she had, the most important of which was, “Where do we go from here?”
Instead, she kept things light. “How did you sleep?”
“Not too bad.”
That wasn’t quite the answer she’d wanted to hear. Not that she expected him to wax on about how wonderful last night had been or how refreshed he’d awakened.
Goodness, she’d only gotten a few hours of sleep herself. But once she’d nodded off, nestled in Javier’s arms, she’d slept like a baby.
Again, she tried to shrug off her disappointment, but it wasn’t easy.
Was it wrong for her to want to hear him say that making love with her had been every bit as special to him as it had been to her? She didn’t think so.
After stirring her coffee and setting the spoon in the sink, she took a sip. Javier certainly knew how to brew a good cup of java. In fact, after last night, she’d learned firsthand some of the other skills he had.
“What do you have going on today?” she asked.
He turned from the stove and faced her, yet he still kept his eye on the eggs. “I’ve got physical therapy this afternoon. Pete, my therapist, said I could take the weekend off, but I’d rather not. I’m tired of being laid up. It’s hell to feel like only half a man.”
Her lips quirked into a smile. “You weren’t half a man last night.”
His eyes sparked and he smiled. Then he returned to watch the pan on the stove, using a spatula to keep the eggs from sticking.
“I thought I’d do some laundry today,” she added. “Then I probably ought to run a few errands.”
He didn’t respond, although she supposed he didn’t need to. So she decided to take a more direct approach.
“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight? I thought I could fix chicken.”
The light in his eyes dimmed. “I’d like to, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
What wasn’t a good idea? Her stomach clenched. Them having dinner together? Or him returning to her house once he left?
Slow down, she told herself. She was jumping to conclusions. After all, he was fixing breakfast for her. If he’d meant to make a hasty exit, wouldn’t he have done so while she’d been sleeping?
Still, her heart, which had been soaring with hope when she first entered the kitchen, sputtered and threatened to stall. “Why isn’t it a good idea?”
“Well, because…as good as it was last night—as good as we were together—I think we should take things slowly for now.”
He might be right about not rushing into anything, but she couldn’t help feeling as though he was giving her the morning-after brush off. And in spite of wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt, she bristled. “I see.”
After removing the egg pan from the flame, he turned to face her again, resting his backside against the cupboard. “It’s not what you think, baby.”
Baby? Under normal circumstances, she might be touched by the term of endearment. But didn’t bachelors often refer to their lovers as baby or sweetheart or honey so they didn’t have to worry about calling someone by the wrong name?
“Then what should I think?” she asked.
Again he paused, as if choosing his words carefully. And who could blame him? If he wasn’t planning to make a commitment, yet wanted to sleep with her again, he’d have to be careful how he handled things now, wouldn’t he?
“Last night was great,” he said. “We were great. But I have a long way to go before I can make any promises or plans for the future.”
What was he talking about? Didn’t he realize that, at least in some ways, he was as good as he’d ever been? And that even after he was fully healed, she didn’t expect perfection?
As badly as she wanted to explain it all away—his attitude, his inability to make a commitment—she realized that she’d been right about him all along. Javier was a playboy bachelor, and there was nothing she could do to change that.
Their romantic night of lovemaking might have meant the world to her. But to him, it had only been the means to an end.
The same thing had happened when she’d dated Jason Novachek, the internist who’d taken her out and charmed her into bed. And while she’d been disappointed that things hadn’t worked out the way she’d wanted, that Jason hadn’t been the man she’d expected him to be, she hadn’t loved him. Not like she…
Oh, God. She took a step back at the realization: she loved Javier.
And just like Aunt Connie, she’d fallen hook, line and sinker for a charming but dedicated bachelor whose only real interest in her had been a sexual romp.
Connie had been so devastated by the breakup that she’d never been the same again.
And neither would Leah.
Sure, she was stronger than Aunt Connie. She wouldn’t cry and carry on—at least, not in public. She wouldn’t go to bed and curl into a fetal position for days on end.
No, Leah would go back to the hospital on Sunday and throw herself into her work. And, with time, she’d get over the pain, over the crushing disappointment.
But when it came to getting involved in another relationship?
She’d trust her instincts next time. And she’d never let some smooth-talking Casanova charm her into bed again.
As badly as she wanted to throw her mug across the kitchen, to hear the ceramic shatter like a heart breaking, to watch the coffee splash and spill down the wall like tears, she held fast to her temper.
And as tempted as she was to scream and demand that Javier get the hell out of her life, she bit her tongue.
After all, she really had no one to blame for any of this but herself. She’d known all along that her handsome patient would recover one day and revert back to the man he’d once been.
Her initial assessment of him had proven to be right. She just hadn’t wanted it to be.
“So,” she said, “let me see if I understand this. You want to take things slowly until you f
inish rehab?”
He turned away from the stove to face her again, nodding. “I think it’s for the best.”
Best for who? Him?
Nevertheless, she continued to lay it on the line. “And you don’t want to think about the future until that time?”
He gave a half shrug. “I don’t mind thinking about the future. But I don’t want to make any plans until I can kiss this cane goodbye.”
“And making ‘future’ plans or commitments includes having dinner with me tonight?”
“You’re angry,” he said.
No, it was much worse than that. She was ready to throw him and his damn cane out the front door.
He took a step forward. “I care for you, Leah. A lot. And I don’t mind dating you.”
He didn’t mind?
She took a step back, maintaining her distance. Then she grabbed hold of the lapels of her robe, holding the edges together, shielding herself from his view. “Maybe you’re right, Javier.”
He scrunched his face as if he was trying to make sense of her tone, of her words. But a man like him would never understand.
“Once I’m done with rehab,” he explained, “we can take up where we left off. It shouldn’t be long. A few months maybe. I’ll work hard.”
Yeah, right. She knew when she was being cut loose. And while she felt the tears welling in her eyes, she refused to cry. Not in front of him.
Take the power position, she’d told Aunt Connie when the attorney told her he wanted to date other women. Don’t call him. Don’t grovel. Don’t let him think you need him in the least.
Connie hadn’t taken Leah’s advice, and look where that had left her.
But Leah wasn’t going to let that happen to her. She was going to stand tall. And she was going to end things completely before Javier had the chance to do it himself—whether he’d finished rehab or not.
“You know,” she said, “I’m not the least bit hungry. Instead, I’m going to take a shower and then run those errands I told you about. In the meantime why don’t you enjoy your coffee and eggs.”
His head cocked to the side, as if he knew she was going to lower the boom. And his instincts were right.
“Just be sure you’re gone by the time I’m ready to leave.”
Then she turned on her heel and padded out of the kitchen, coffee mug still in her hand.
She might have taken it back to the sink, since her stomach was tied up in so many knots that she wouldn’t be able to drink a single drop, but there was no way she’d return and risk undermining the dramatic exit she’d just made.
You’d think that she’d be feeling a little smug, yet disappointment filled her chest. Somewhere, deep inside, she wished that Javier would follow her, that he would stop her and explain that she was wrong, that she’d misunderstood him.
That he loved her, just as she loved him.
But that didn’t happen.
As she stepped into the bathroom and closed the door, the tears she’d been holding back began to fill her eyes to the brim until they overflowed and rolled down her cheeks.
Still, she pulled back the shower curtain, turned on the spigot and waited for the noise of the flowing water to drown out any sobs she might make.
Then she dropped to her knees next to the tub and pressed her hands against her chest—as if that might hold the cracks in her heart from shattering into a million pieces.
Javier had never been asked to leave anyone’s house before—especially not that of a woman he’d just made love to. And the fact that the woman in question was Leah made it all the worse.
He’d been tempted to follow her to the bathroom, to knock on the door, to tell her he’d reconsidered. That he wanted to offer himself to her just as he was. And for as long as he lived.
But until he was back on top of his game, he couldn’t allow himself to give in. He’d be strapping her with a cripple, and she deserved so much more than that.
When he offered himself to her—body, heart and soul—he would be standing on his own two feet and able to carry her over the threshold. He’d tried to explain that to her.
What if she grew to resent him and his physical limitations? Hell, not a day went by that he didn’t resent them himself. Couldn’t she see how important it was for them to start out on even footing?
When he’d been in the hospital, Leah had always understood where he was coming from, even when he hadn’t come out and said anything.
So why didn’t she get it now?
Hell, maybe because he had a hard time wrapping his mind around the reality of it all.
Last night, after the last wave of their climax had ended, after they lay spent in each other’s arms, he’d expected to doze off with a sated smile on his face. But he hadn’t.
How’d you sleep? she’d asked him earlier.
Not too bad, he’d said. But the truth was, he’d slept like crap. He’d stayed too long at the party last night and had probably overdone it.
He’d been in a lot of pain this morning. So he’d gotten out of bed while she was still asleep, while she couldn’t see him reach for his cane, hobble to where he’d left his clothes, then take them to the bathroom.
Once inside, he’d removed his prescription bottle and downed a pain pill before climbing in the shower.
He could have left at that time, he supposed. But when he’d seen her lying in bed, he hadn’t been able to go without talking to her this morning. Without explaining why a relationship with him would have to wait. Not until he’d given her his promise to bust his ass in therapy until he was back on top.
But how did that work for you? a small voice asked.
Not good. Not good at all.
Javier glanced down at the eggs he’d fixed, at the fried potatoes he’d placed on a serving platter, ready for someone to eat. And while he’d only munched on appetizers last night, he no longer felt the least bit hungry now.
Instead, he piled everything on one plate and covered it with plastic wrap. Then he put it in her refrigerator.
Next, after he washed the pots and utensils he’d used, he put them back in the cupboard in which he’d found them.
By the time the water had stopped running in the pipes and her shower was apparently over, he had slipped on his sports jacket and was headed for the door.
When he reached for the knob, he had second thoughts about leaving. But only for a moment. Only until he remembered coming through this very door with her last night.
They’d shared a slow dance, wrapped in each other’s arms. And when the song had ended, when it had come time to separate, he’d stumbled. And he’d have fallen to the floor if she hadn’t offered her support.
If he hadn’t been so all-fired enamored with her and so determined to prove that he wasn’t a complete cripple, he would have called it a night and limped away.
Instead, he’d proven to her that he could be the man she deserved in bed. And soon, he’d be man enough for her in all the other ways.
He just hoped she’d give him a chance when that day finally came around.
Javier went home long enough to change into his workout clothes, then drove straight to the rehab facility at San Antonio General. He was madder than hell at just about everyone in the world, starting with Mother Nature for sending that blasted tornado through town and having it strike right where he was standing.
And he was angry at Leah for not understanding the one thing that was most important to him.
He needed to be number one in her life, and he couldn’t win that position until he’d reached it again in his own.
As he pulled into the parking lot, he found an empty space close to the front door. Then he shut off the ignition, reached across the seat for his gym bag and locked the door.
He would push himself, too. Even harder than Pete pushed.
After all, he wasn’t going to lollygag around and risk having his recovery take longer than necessary. Once he took command of his body and his life again, once he was at a hundred percent, he would set his relationship with Leah back to right.
He would even plan a romantic evening to tell her how he was feeling. He’d never been in love before, but he suspected that’s where all of this was heading. His feelings for Leah were too strong not to be the real deal.
“Hey there,” Jeremy Fortune called out as he crossed the room to greet Javier. “I’m glad to see you up and around these days. Pete says you’re doing great.”
Not as great as he’d like to be. But he thanked Jeremy just the same.
“I didn’t see you at the open house last night. Kirsten and I arrived late because I was on call and had an emergency. But I heard you and Leah were there.”
Javier nodded. “It was a nice party, but we didn’t stay very long.”
His thoughts drifted to Leah, to the night they’d spent making love. It was only a natural progression to this morning, when everything had come to a head.
“Leah’s a great lady,” Jeremy said.
That she was. And as wonderful as she was, that lady was pretty damn angry with him right now. He’d never seen her like that, had never suspected she would react like that.
“Are you two dating?” Jeremy asked.
“Not exactly. I have a long way to go before I can think about romance.”
“You’d know best,” Jeremy said.
That’s what Javier kept telling himself. But he’d begun to have his doubts. What if he agreed to have dinner with Leah tonight—assuming she’d accept his apology and reissue the invitation?
And what if they continued to date, even though he wasn’t running any marathons yet?
