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Her Miracle Man

Page 14

by Nikki Duncan


  “She was my sister.” Jennalyn pressed the photograph to her chest before putting it back in the frame. “I can’t believe he brought her home with him.”

  “He brings them all home with him. Though hers is the only picture I’ve seen outside his office.”

  “It’s what makes him great at his job.” Jennalyn grabbed a paper towel from the roller and dabbed away the tears.

  “It’s what has him locking himself in this cold apartment while he wears a mask for the outside world.”

  The statement would have sounded judgmental if Jennalyn hadn’t been looking at the concern in Michele’s gaze. Ryland’s sister was genuinely worried about how involved he was with his patients. She didn’t like to see him in pain. She may not fully understand her brother but she loved him.

  “For what it’s worth, I don’t think he always wears a mask outside this apartment.”

  “Why do say that?” Michele settled onto a bar stool at the island and watched as Jennalyn pulled food from the fridge.

  “Your brother is the sweetest, most genuine man, I’ve ever known. Aside from my own father.” Jennalyn opened a cabinet and pulled down a bowl. Below that she opened a drawer and found a fork. “The kind of man he is, the man who worries more about everyone else, isn’t a mask.”

  “You move around like you’ve been here before. How do you know where he keeps stuff? And if he isn’t wearing a mask out there, then why is he so different in here?”

  “I guess we share a logic.” She didn’t want to think too hard about how she just seemed to know where he’d keep things. She cracked some eggs into the bowl and set to work making an omelet. It was basic, but there was a certain comfort in basic. “As for how he is, I think it’s more a matter of him allowing the layers of protection to drop when he gets home.”

  “That’s a mask.”

  “In a way, okay.” She heated the stove and an omelet skillet. “But if it is, it’s there for his protection.”

  “What’s he need protection from? He’s not a doctor anymore. They aren’t his patients to lose.”

  “But they are. Every child who walks through the doors of Riley is his.” Jennalyn nodded toward the living room where Ryland sat in grief. “Your brother sat with me and my sister while she breathed her last breath. Then he held me until I pulled myself together enough to get home safely. He feels a responsibility for every patient and family member. He’s driven to make their lives better.”

  “He has to know he can’t help them all.”

  “He does know. It doesn’t make it easier for him.”

  “I hate seeing him get so torn up. I never know what to do for him.”

  Jennalyn poured the eggs into the skillet. “You’re doing it.”

  “I’m not doing anything except sit around and feel helpless.”

  “Which is how he feels when someone he’s grown to care for dies. Knowing that you’re here for him though, knowing that you’ll pick him up if he falls or just sit here and feel his pain, gives him the strength to start again the next day.”

  “He’s never told me that.”

  “I would guess it’s because he doesn’t know how to put it all into words when it’s for himself. It’s a bit like asking a therapist to diagnose themselves.”

  “I hadn’t thought of it that way.” Michele got up and retrieved some plates from another cabinet. She handed one to Jennalyn just as the omelet was ready.

  “He’s your brother and seeing him in pain pisses you off. It’s tough to see past that.”

  Michele held the plate with a beautiful omelet and studied Jennalyn as she poured more eggs into the skillet for another one.

  “Are you a therapist?”

  “No. Just an event planner who’s dealt with her share of loss.” And who would stay with Ryland until he’d pulled himself together enough to face the next day.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ryland had hoped to find some time to talk with Jennalyn before their next miracle day. He’d wanted to thank her for tracking him down and cooking for him. Mostly he wanted to thank her for whatever she’d said to Michele, because nothing he’d said over the last several years had made his sister understand him. After an hour with Jennalyn, she seemed to have a new view.

  It had made things tremendously easier, because for the first time she hadn’t felt the need to watch him as if she thought he was suicidal or something. When he’d pulled himself back in line and told her he was okay, she’d actually believed him. Then she’d gone home without any lectures on how he allowed himself to care too much.

  Whatever Jennalyn had said to cause the shift in Michele had simplified his life. Then she’d complicated it again, though he hadn’t realized it at the time.

  She’d stayed with him through the night, left after cooking him breakfast and then they’d played phone tag for the last two days. He hadn’t been able to talk to her. To see her. To touch her. The woman had worked a miracle he hadn’t anticipated and she’d been absent since.

  In his case, in regards to Jennalyn, absence was not making the heart grow fonder. It was making the heart grow lonelier.

  Now, when he should be dealing with the mountain of tasks piled on his desk, he found himself clock watching. There was less than an hour before he would go change for the fun in the snow they had planned. He would meet her, Holly and Holly’s aunt at the bridge in Garfield Park.

  He wanted to see Holly have a great day. In her ten short years the girl had lost her parents in a plane crash that she’d barely survived and then had been diagnosed with intestinal failure as a result of the trauma she’d sustained in the crash. Moving from Miami to Indiana to live with her aunt had been another shock, but Holly had told Ryland once how much she was looking forward to playing in the snow.

  Giving her the chance to build a snowman and have a snowball fight and go down the sledding hill were things he’d been looking forward to. Though the last couple of days his desire to talk to Jennalyn had begun to trump that anticipation.

  Then a new idea occurred to him. He would teach Holly all about snowball fights. And before it was over he would take Jennalyn to the ground.

  “That’s a downright wicked smile.” Blanche, his secretary, set more papers on Ryland’s desk. “I pity whoever it’s geared for. Or should she be envied?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I believe I’m talking about whatever plans you have for today and the lovely Jennalyn James.”

  “Just some fun and games in the snow.”

  “Sure. Did your lady find you the other night?”

  “She did. Are you the one who told her where I live?”

  “Nope. I know how to protect your privacy. Though it doesn’t seem to bother you as much as I’d have thought it would that she tracked you down.”

  He shrugged. “She’s not asking for anything I’m not giving willingly.”

  “I like that she’s not trying to use you for your position or money.” Blanche picked up a stack of files he’d already made it through. “Do me a favor and keep your clothes on until you’re inside.”

  “Blanche!”

  “We can’t afford for you to catch pneumonia. This hospital can’t run itself.”

  He laughed. “You and I both know the board wouldn’t waste any time replacing me.”

  “Maybe they would fill the vacant position. But no one will ever replace you.”

  “You’re sweet, Blanche. I promise I will not do anything you wouldn’t do.”

  “Then we’re in real trouble.” She winked and headed to the door. “I’ve done more wicked things than you can imagine.”

  Ryland blinked at the back of the woman he’d come to think of as a favorite aunt. The idea of her misbehaving was almost as disturbing as the idea of her misbehaving sexually. A shiver shook him. Reaching for a file, he prayed that work would dislodge the images leaping into his mind.

  He was still suffering images of Blanche when he approached the
bridge in Garfield Park. Jennalyn was already there, standing with her hands on the black rail, watching Holly and her aunt make snow angels. Dressed in a hot-pink coat and coordinating hat, Holly was a splash of vibrancy in a world of white.

  Ryland approached quietly, barely crunching the soft snow beneath his feet. He was sure Jennalyn would hear him, but she was absorbed in another world. Unable to keep his hands to himself, he stepped behind her, placed his hands on her hips and kissed her jaw just above her scarf.

  She jumped, but then settled just as quickly. “Hey.”

  “I missed you.”

  “You’ve been in meetings.”

  “So have you it seems.”

  “We have a lot of new clients demanding appointments. It’s nice.”

  “You deserve the success you’re finding.”

  “I wouldn’t have found it without you.”

  “I saw the event you put together at the zoo. I had nothing to do with what is coming your way.”

  She turned in his arms and leaned against the rail. Looking up at him, she studied him with her brown eyes that saw too deeply at times. “How are you?”

  “I’m good.” He kissed her. He’d intended it to be a light brush against her lips, but the moment he tasted her, felt her warmth, he was helpless to pull away. He deepened the kiss, moving as close as their winter layers would allow.

  She hummed and returned his kiss. She awakened his desire in ways that had new images replacing those of Blanche. When she pulled away, he missed her instantly.

  “You’re right. You’re good.”

  “Did I mention I missed you?”

  “Yes. And you make it sound dangerous the way you say it.”

  “Danger can be fun.” Or disastrous if the fun didn’t go the way he wanted. He was seriously falling for her, though he doubted she was ready to feel the same.

  “Maybe.” She narrowed her gaze. “But not here. Not now.”

  “Right.” He traced a finger along her cheek, smiling. “Besides, Blanche made me promise to keep my clothes on in the snow.”

  “I’m sure I don’t want to know why that came up between you two.”

  “You’re why. She thinks I have a thing for you.”

  “Yeah, still not sure I want to know.”

  “Or maybe you just don’t like the idea of us talking about you.”

  “No maybe. I don’t like being talked about.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” He gave her a last kiss and pulled away. “For now, we have plans to play in the snow.”

  He grabbed her hand and tugged her into a run toward Holly and her Aunt Stacy. The freshness of the cold air whipped through him, invigorating and freeing. He was laughing when they rounded the top of the hill. He sped up, a little too fast. At the edge of the hill he tugged her hand again. They lost their balance and went tumbling down the hill.

  Roll after roll they collected snow until they stopped at the bottom of the hill in a tangle of arms and legs. Ryland pushed up on his elbows, raising himself off her. The laughter rumbling through him halted at the first look of Jennalyn covered in snow.

  “I had a vision of you beneath me in the snow.”

  She smacked his shoulder. “Ryland.”

  “I’ll admit this wasn’t exactly how I envisioned it, but I’m not arguing.”

  “Ugh. You’re such a man.” She shoved him aside and climbed to her feet. He didn’t miss the fact that she was laughing, or that it was a genuine laugh that reached the depths of her soul if the blush on her cheeks and the twinkle in her eyes were any indication.

  “Mr. Ryland. Ms. Jennalyn,” Holly called from the hill above them. “Are you okay?”

  “We’re fine.” He stood and offered a hand to assist Jennalyn up. “Are you ready to make a snowman?”

  “I want to go sledding. But not like you do.”

  “I’m surrounded by women with smart mouths.”

  “Today was your idea.” Jennalyn patted him on the arm and trudged up the hill a little ahead of him. “And remember this little tumble when we get to the snowball portion of things.”

  “I’ll remember.” The snowball fight was the portion he’d been looking most forward to.

  Jennalyn poured hot chocolate from the thermos she’d brought along and passed a Styrofoam cup to Stacy. “Holly seems to be adjusting pretty well to life in the cold.”

  “She’s always been a go-with-the-flow kind of girl. Totally opposite of me.” Stacy pocketed the camera she’d been taking pictures with while Holly and Ryland wrapped up their snowball fight. “She keeps me grounded while reminding me it’s okay to have fun.”

  A soft chuckle, more of a resigned sigh than a laugh, escaped without thought. “My little sister was that way. No matter how caught up I got in the role of adulthood she helped bring me back to the fun side every time I was with her.”

  Stacy nodded her head toward Ryland, who was ducking behind a barricade he’d built from snow. “It seems you have someone new to do that for you now.”

  “He’s just a friend.” She shook her head, rejecting Stacy’s claim. The business that she was still getting the hang of running was exploding. She was just learning how to survive without her family and feel a semblance of happiness. She was not ready to take on a relationship with a man. Even a man as great as Ryland.

  “I wish I had a friend who looked at me the way he looks at you.” Stacy strolled away to join Holly and Ryland, leaving Jennalyn to her thoughts.

  Christmas was a week away. They had two days of miracles left before the final Christmas Eve party. After that she would have no reason to see Ryland regularly. They would both return to their respective lives. Nothing said she couldn’t enjoy his company while they were still working together, because while she wasn’t interested in a relationship, she enjoyed being with him.

  “Hey.” Ryland snapped once, loud, in front of her. “Holly’s tired and wants to head home.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Jennalyn capped the thermos she’d been holding, not thinking about the cold getting inside. “Sure.”

  “You all right?”

  “Yep.” She nodded firmly. “Distracted, but good.”

  She remained distracted while they said good-bye to Holly and Stacy. Even when Ryland kissed her good-bye, she was distracted. She sat in the parking lot until the car had warmed enough that she began tugging at the scarf because breathing became difficult. One thought commanded her attention.

  Ryland.

  He had gone back to his office to work; she should do the same. She certainly had enough paperwork, but her mind wouldn’t settle on anything other than the image of Ryland poised above her in the snow.

  Danger can be fun.

  Was it wrong that she wanted to taste his kind of danger? That she wanted his kind of fun? She wanted him to the point that she felt his body against hers. Smelled him. Tasted him.

  He’d tied her up, shown her a passion that ran so deep inside she’d barely recognized it as her own. With no memory of making the trip, she pulled into a parking spot near the hospital. It was late. The administrative staff would be gone, or extremely thin. Holding her coat closed at her throat, she headed inside, intent on one destination.

  In the hall, she passed a red wagon. She paused to check the license plate. As always it was a painful relief that it wasn’t Sabrina’s. And like every other time she wondered what it would feel like to actually see Sabrina’s wagon.

  Shaking it off, pulling thoughts of Ryland to the forefront of her mind, she pushed forward. The outer office where Blanche worked was dark except the light shining in from Ryland’s inner office. Jennalyn closed the door behind her and locked it.

  Crossing the thick carpet, she expected to feel like an intruder. She didn’t. She felt strong and confident. The bravery she needed to go after a man was something that had been missing since Kris walked. Grinning, she relished the return of the feeling.

  Ryland sat behind his desk with his shirt sleeves rolled up and his tie aband
oned to the couch along with the outer clothes he’d worn to play in the snow. Thin, wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose as he read a file and made notes. Arousal snapped at her spine, radiated down.

  “I had no idea you wore glasses.”

  “Jennalyn.” His head shot up. His eyes widened. “What are you doing here?”

  “I missed you.” She whispered it, much like he had on the bridge, and closed and locked his door. She was feeling brave, but that didn’t mean she wanted to put on a show if the cleaning crew or someone else entered the outer office.

  “I see.” He set his pen on top of the folder and rolled his chair back.

  “You don’t have a late-night meeting or anything, do you?” She dropped her coat to the floor as she walked slowly across the room. Her sweater followed as she stepped free of her boots on the move. Then her pants, and all she had on were her bra and panties as she rounded his desk.

  “If I did I wouldn’t care.” His modulated tone had a hint of laughter. He raised his eyebrow and watched her without blinking.

  “I don’t suppose you have condoms in this office somewhere?”

  “Actually, I’ve gone back to carrying a couple in my wallet.” He rolled farther away from his desk and held his hands out to her.

  She linked her fingers with his and climbed onto his lap, straddling him. “You were a Boy Scout, weren’t you?”

  “Yeah, but I think you could reverse all the training except being prepared.”

  “You tempt me to try.” Rolling her hips, she rubbed herself over him, loving the sensation of their clothes and bodies creating friction. She worked his buttons loose, rolling her hips again. She grew wet and tight against him, nearing the precipice when they were nowhere near naked enough.

  “Honey, you don’t have to try. I was ready to abandon all responsibility the instant you walked in.” Ryland moved his hands to her ass, held her as he stood. Setting her on the desk, he moved away just enough to shuck his pants and underwear and pull the condom from his wallet.

  She wiggled out of her panties. “Are you always persuaded so easily?”

  “Only with you.” Sheathing himself in the rubber, he leaned in and kissed her.

 

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