by Karen Cote'
Mark told her Jet’s sister was the nurse on duty when he’d gone to the hospital the night of the infamous accident.
“Hello,” she responded cautiously, unsure of her reception.
“You made quite a name for yourself in this town with that accident,” Cheryl volunteered, but without an ounce of censure. “I hope you weren’t hurt.”
“No,” Lily shook her head and then grimaced in remorse. “Too bad I can’t say the same about your brother.”
Cheryl waved it away. “He only needed a few stitches,” she reassured warmly.
“Cheryl’s been stitching Jet up for years,” Don interjected. “You should’ve seen him split his head open on his first Big Wheel. That’s when Cheryl decided to be a nurse.”
Lily smiled in gratitude at their obvious attempt to put her at ease.
“Would you like a drink?” Mark asked and after her request for wine, he sauntered off to the bar.
“Have you and Mark been seeing a lot of each other?” Cheryl asked and when Lily’s eyes grew wide, Cheryl chuckled. “I don’t mean to be nosy, but we’re one big family around here. We have a tendency to stick our noses into other people’s business.”
Her self-deprecation charmed Lily out of taking offense at the intrusion.
“Actually, Mark and I are just friends,” Lily said. Then, to clarify any future rumors, “I’m not looking to get involved right now and I believe Mark might have an interest elsewhere.”
“Cheryl does like to dabble in matchmaking,” Don said with an indulgent look at his wife. “But you’re right,” he endorsed his support to squelch gossip, “Mark does have an eye on someone who works at our school.”
“Liza?” Cheryl asked, taken aback. “When did that happen?”
Lily almost laughed aloud. Obviously, Jet’s sister was used to being in the know of things.
Since the bar wasn’t that crowded, Mark was back in record time with Lily’s drink.
“Do you know how to play pool?” Mark asked Lily.
She smiled ruefully. “Kinda-sorta.”
“Great.” He looked over at Cheryl and Don. “How about a foursome?”
“I’m in,” Don replied.
“I’m not very good,” Cheryl said.
Lily laughed. “Wait until you see me.”
“So what type of work do you do?” Don asked while Mark readied the pool table for their first game.
“I’m a psychologist,” she answered.
“Oh, one of those,” Cheryl teased.
“I wouldn’t try analyzing too many people around here,” Don joked. “You may end up with more patients than you can handle.”
“Yo, Cheryl,” someone called.
They all glanced over and Lily recognized the bartender as he approached their table.
“There’s a phone call for you. Don, I need more beer, can you get it?”
“Sure can,” Don said. “Mark, I hate to leave Lily alone here, but I’ll need help with those kegs.”
“Don’t worry,” Lily assured. “I’m a big girl.” She pointed to the cue sticks hanging on the wall. “I’ll pick out one of those wooden shooty-things.”
Mark set the cue stick he’d been holding down on the pool table. “Why do I get the feeling you’re going to beat the pants off of us?”
“What is it with you and removing your clothes all the time?” Lily asked in mock rebuke.
Mark chuckled and followed Don toward the front of the room.
Meanwhile, Lily got up to choose her selection. She was reaching up to grab one of the shorter sticks when a hand slid around her waist.
She froze and before she could react, a wonderfully deep voice spoke into her ear.
“I have come to the conclusion Dr. Delaney that you and I are like the conversation between the Sadist and the Masochist. Ever heard it?”
Jet’s touch ignited the very core of her nerve endings as if designed just for him.
“The Sadist and Masochist?” she stammered.
“The Masochist begs the Sadist, ‘Beat me.’ The Sadist answers, ‘No.’”
Lily swallowed and regained the use of her brain cells.
“Who’s the Masochist and who’s the Sadist?”
“That’s a puzzle I’m still working on, but the actors are definitely us.” He thumbed over the jewel in her bellybutton and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Did you miss me?”
Lily closed her eyes. He was right. They’re both crazy and she was the glutton for his punishment.
He let her pull away and Lily got her first look at him in two weeks.
Tonight he was dressed in black denims and an open white dress shirt with a black t-shirt beneath. She expected cowboy boots, but instead found stylish brown leather loafers with no socks. She scowled. There should be a law against him.
“Were you gone?” she asked, walking over for her drink.
She hated that her hand was unsteady when she drank from the wine. She was all too conscious of him watching her with those sweet baby blues.
“Was there something you needed to tell me?”
Her brows creased in confusion. “Tell you?”
“Like, if the rabbit died? Or if any little eggs got hatched?” he asked.
The supposed threat of a pregnancy.
“Don’t worry, Sheriff. You won’t have any little knees climbing on your lap saying, Mommy’s seeing things again,’” she said bitterly.
A myriad of emotions crossed his face before settling on relief.
“That’s one less thing to worry about,” he murmured. Then he asked, “Are you barhopping alone?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not barhopping. Mark asked me to meet him here.”
His eyes glowered. “Is that right?” he said softly. “Are you dating my deputy?”
As if he’d care. “No, he took pity on me.”
“It was good of him to sacrifice his time,” he mocked, perusing her sparkling attire. He lingered on her waist. “Nice jewelry.”
The man was way too disturbing and Lily needed to take control.
“I heard you went out of town, where did you go?”
He smirked, aware of what she was doing. “To visit friends.”
Jealousy was quick and fierce and caught Lily off guard.
“That’s an informative answer,” she said.
“It was an informative visit,” he replied pretending ignorance to her sarcasm. “How about you? Did you like St. Louis?”
Great. He won’t answer my questions, but he wants me to answer his.
“What’s that old saying?” she responded carelessly. “A nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there?”
“Good,” he replied and took the glass from her hand.
Oxygen constricted her lungs when he raised the glass and touched it to his lips. His gaze held hers captive while he took a sip of the wine and for the life of her, Lily couldn’t look away.
He returned the glass to her and subsequently freed Lily from the contact. With fingers suddenly gone limp, she replaced the glass to the sturdy surface of the table.
The corners of his eyes crinkled and it was apparent the rascal knew the exact affect he was having on her.
Her mood darkened. “Stop playing with me.”
“Is that what I’m doing?”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear for equilibrium and caught sight of Mark, Cheryl, and Don returning. There was also another woman with them. A stunning one.
Don greeted Jet. “Celeste mentioned you might be home today.”
A heavy stare clung to Lily and meeting the newcomer’s gaze, she became a target of an uncanny animosity. Jet’s ex-wife?
Dark hair, porcelain skin, sculptured cheekbones, and full ruby lips. Perfect nightmare. Shorter than Lily by a good three inches, the black strapless dress molded every voluptuous curve like a glove.
To alleviate any doubt about their relationship, she stretched up to Jet and planted an intimate kiss at the corner of his m
outh.
“I’m glad you’re back,” she breathed. “Now you can drive me home.”
Her animation proved Mark’s warning about the relationship not being over.
Jet drew back and taking her arm, pulled her toward Lily.
“Lily Delaney,” he began the introduction. “This is—”
“Jet’s wife,” the petite bombshell interrupted. “Celeste Walker.”
* * * *
Jet viciously slid out of his truck, barely holding onto his temper. His mood darkened at finding his kitchen door unlocked again. That ex-wife of his would be the death of him yet.
He’d sought Lily out tonight because he’d had to see her. Touch her. When she wasn’t at the house, he’d found her car at Don’s bar, but he hadn’t expected to find her on a date with his deputy. Then Celeste showed up, claimed to be his wife, and faked inebriation to coerce him into driving her home.
Normally Jet didn’t tolerate his ex-wife’s games, but when his deputy leaned in to whisper something to Lily, he’d had to leave before he smashed his face in.
Growling, he secured the safety of the house before heading to the bathroom for a much-needed shower. He’d taken one earlier, but this one had nothing to do with getting clean.
He stripped off his clothes and ignored the hot water tap. The icy blast of the cold water hit and he gritted his teeth at the onslaught.
When he told Lily he’d been at a friend’s house, he hadn’t wanted to mention his friend was investigating Capriccio. Why get her hopes up? Jet had asked for his friend’s help a couple of weeks ago, but the progress was slow. Nevertheless, it was better than Lily involving her ex-husband.
Jet had been pissed off when she’d told him what she’d planned. Hell, she didn’t need him in her life anymore. Jet could handle it without Bailer’s interference.
In fact, some of the kids from Jerry Delaney’s rehab center were already talking in private. They weren’t prepared to go public yet, but things looked promising and Jet had been hard pressed not to mention it to Lily.
Then again, he couldn’t tell Lily anything until he’d arranged a sit down with Celeste. What they needed was a good old-fashioned heart-to-heart. Afterward, he’d convince Lily that he and Celeste were not an item and they could figure out whatever in the hell this thing was growing between them.
Her pregnancy was now off the menu of discussions and strangely enough, Jet’s relief was lackluster. Isn’t that a hoot? The woman is driving me crazy.
But I want her.
Maybe it was only physical, but he needed to know for sure. Tonight only skewed the situation. The moment he’d caught sight of her glittering like a beckoning lighthouse, the battle with his erection had begun. Then like an imbecile, he’d touched her and that damned jewel in her navel had taken him from semi to hard in two point seven seconds. Just like a frickin’ teenager.
Somehow, he had to detach his raging hormones from the brain cells required to rationalize the situation. At the same time, he had to keep Lily in Windom Hills and he wasn’t above using the attraction between them to do that. In fact, he almost had to resort to it in order to avoid going insane. Because if he didn’t get her beneath him again soon, insanity was inevitable.
He leaned his head against the shower wall, recalling the tightness of her muscles stretching to accommodate him. Her quivering slim body had pulsed around him until it took every ounce of strength he’d had not to explode before she did. He couldn’t forget the ecstasy on her face when she’d climaxed or the fact that he’d been the one to put it there.
Jet groaned in frustration as the cold water defied his efforts to alleviate the ache in his groin. Some bright idea this was. All he was doing was freezing his ass off and shivering like an idiot with a hard-on.
He jerked on the hot water tap with vicious amusement. He knew what he had to do and it’d been a long time since he’d done it.
Resigned, he reached for the soap.
Chapter Nine
Lily pushed her shaking limbs away from the cold porcelain.
The nausea had hit the same time as yesterday morning and the day before that. She’d ruled out the flu when her sickness had performed a one-eighty after eating graham crackers. Going three for three, she grabbed a couple of more crackers and just like the other days, felt better after a while. More than that, she had a maniacal craving for Snicker Doodles.
What in the world was going on? Rewind five years earlier and there was the same symptoms at the onset of her one and only pregnancy. She hadn’t started her period yet either. Could her body be faking a pregnancy? She’d read somewhere that it happened to some women. What about a woman unable to have children? Only one way to find out.
Lily grabbed her cell phone and plugged in the number, accompanied by the usual cynicism. Keeping her same doctor after the miscarriage had been the one decent thing Fred’s mother had insisted upon. As the Bailer family doctor, his elite services were not available to just anyone. Lily chalked it up to Patricia Bailer’s guilt for covering up her son’s alcohol level the night he’d crashed the car.
Anticipating the phone to ring on the other side, instead Lily got a long beep and recording that the number was no longer in service. She tried again, but with the same result.
Her last appointment was just a few months ago, but she supposed the number could’ve been changed. She dialed information and was given the exact digits already tried.
Calling Fred’s mother was out of the question so Lily dialed his secretary instead. It gave her an excuse to get an update on Fred’s return.
What Fred’s secretary imparted made Lily forget all about his whereabouts. She sat in front of her laptop still numb at the revelation she’d learned. Although Fred’s secretary didn’t provide much information, the search engine had spit out a plethora of it.
Malpractice for taking bribes? Evidently, her doctor had been working from the pockets of his high-powered clients. He’d manipulated reports and given false information based on the periodic requests from a handful of people. Patrick and Barbara Bailer’s names were on that list.
Bile rose at the possibility that Lily had been one of their victims. She shoved aside the computer and barely made it to the bathroom. The cruelty was too horrible and too wonderful to contemplate.
Nevertheless, she had to know the extent of her doctor’s deception. After a hurried brushing of teeth and hair, Lily grabbed her keys for the short trip to the drugstore.
A short while later, once again in her bathroom and feeling enormously ill again, Lily couldn’t open her eyes. What if she tested positive? How strong would her disappointment be if she didn’t?
With heart in chest and non-prejudicial tears to the outcome in her throat, Lily peeked at the E.P.T.
One by one, her tears fell onto the plus sign.
“Oh Jerry,” she whispered. “Look what’s happened to us. What kind of monsters exists in this world?”
Lily placed a protective hand over her womb and a deep inhalation caught in her lungs. It burst out in a cacophony exhalation of sobbing.
She cried for Jerry, she cried for herself and she cried for this little human being inside of her. My baby. The one she was told would never exist.
For the next twenty-four hours, Lily yo-yoed between anger, joy, and indecision.
She could join the multitude of complaints against her doctor. Whom should she report it to? Anthony?
Lily groaned in defeat. Fred couldn’t help clear Jerry’s name now, he had his own scandal to contend with. Without the credibility of the Bailer name, they’d be lucky to get a charge of jaywalking on Anthony let alone murder. No wonder Fred had left the country. Coward.
An ache began in her head and carried through the noon-hour. She was setting a baking sheet on the counter when the doorbell rang. Lily turned off the oven and went to answer it.
Skipity do da, its Jet’s sister.
Any other time, Lily would’ve been happy to see her. Yeah sure, when I wasn�
�t pregnant with her brother’s baby.
“I hope I’m not intruding,” Cheryl smiled. “But I enjoyed the other night so much, I thought I’d take you up on your invitation to stop by. Have I caught you at a bad time?”
“Not at all.” Lily lied, opening the door. “Actually, I was just taking some Snicker Doodles out of the oven.”
“Oh, I love Snicker Doodles.”
Auntie Cheryl wants a cookie, an inner voice twittered. Lily scolded it and led Cheryl into the kitchen. Here lied her most pressing problem…Jet. What was she going to do about him?
Lily hadn’t seen him since the night at the bar when he’d left with his ex-wife. The other woman had wanted to make sure Lily got the message that Jet was hers. Message received. Now what?
She gave Cheryl the option to sit on the chaise lounge or on one of the stools near the breakfast bar. She chose the breakfast bar.
Lily pulled out two small plates. “Would you like milk or lemonade?”
“Whatever you’re having,” Cheryl replied.
She made a face. “I’m kind of on a Diet Coke kick at the moment.”
“Diet Coke is fine.” Cheryl looked around the cabin with interest. “I’ve never been in here before.”
“My brother’s little secret hiding place,” Lily said. “Or, at least it was.”
Thankfully, Lily had already briefed Cheryl about her brother’s death the night at the bar. Not about his murder, of course.
“It’s lovely,” Cheryl admired.
After placing a couple of cookies on the plates, Lily grabbed two glasses.
“The view’s great,” she said filling the glasses with ice.
Cheryl agreed on the view while Lily took the few steps to the pantry for the Diet Coke. Opening the door, her hand froze in midair. Regular Coke? That’s not right. She’d bought Diet. Had she mistakenly picked up the wrong one?
“Anything wrong, Lily?” Cheryl asked.
Lily turned a blank look to Cheryl. “I must’ve grabbed the wrong kind of soda.”
Cheryl waved a hand. “Oh, I do that sometimes.”
But this counted twice for Lily. The first time had been the peanut butter. Baffled, she put it back on the shelf and shrugged. No one else could’ve put it there, but she couldn’t shake the persistent peculiar feeling.
