Cocktails & Dreams

by Autumn Markus

  Jena seemed to be doing the same thing. “Not very free at all, I’m afraid. Between work and getting ready for classes…and I’m visiting my parents at the end of this week.” She thought for a second. “How about Saturday? I can say I have to work and get away early.”

  Nicholas grinned. “Oh, well, if you’re going to lie to your parents, I guess I could show up. I might even have my sling off by then. You’ll have to drive, though.”

  “That’s fine. I have a perfect idea, then. I’ll pick you up about eleven in the morning, if that works for you. And don’t ask what we’re doing—it’ll be a surprise.” Her eyes twinkled for the first time since they’d been talking, full of the laughter that had hooked Nicholas from the beginning.

  He drew her forward, releasing her hands so he could lightly stroke the skin under her chin with the back of his finger before pressing a soft kiss on her lips. Jena froze and then responded, lightly caressing the back of his neck with one hand. After a few seconds, Nick rested his forehead on Jena’s and they breathed together, staring into each other’s eyes.

  “I knew that spot looked soft,” Nicholas whispered, stroking under her chin with his finger again.

  The door banged open.

  “There you are, Dickolas! I’ve been waiting in the fucking parking lot for forty minutes. Do you think you can speed this up? Hi, Jena.” Conor grinned at her.

  Jena waved shyly and pulled away from Nicholas, sighing.

  Feeling the loss of her softness and warmth immediately, Nicholas hated that he wouldn’t see her for almost a week. “Saturday?” he confirmed.

  Jena smiled and nodded, seeming to be as reluctant as Nick was to go their separate ways. She squeezed his hand and walked swiftly to the dressing room, disappearing inside.

  Conor was barely able to keep his mouth shut until he and Nick were settled in his Bronco. Sliding his sunglasses on, he finally cracked. “So, Nicky…how’s shoving that Cheez Whiz back in the can going? Forget all about fuck—excuse me—sleeping with Jena yet?” Conor snickered as Nicholas banged his head against the seat. “Oh, yeah. Can’t wait to see how this works out. And who breaks first.”

  Chapter Nine

  “JENA, ARE YOU SURE you have to go back tomorrow?” Sharon Baker’s voice held faint suspicion as she watched her daughter throw her last few clothes in the dryer.

  Taking her time closing the dryer door, Jena set the timer before turning around. She completely sucked at lying, so she had to keep her absolutely true, if not entirely honest, story in the front of her mind so she could get away without a damn blush giving her away.

  “Yep. You were there when I got the call, Mom. I’m going back to help Travis out with a patient.” True. Sort of. Jena turned back to finish folding what she had just dragged out of the dryer.

  Her mother’s momentary silence was intense. “Yes, I know what you said, Jena. But your dad and I almost never see you anymore, and we were counting on having you for the whole weekend. Maybe I should call Travis and see if I can wheedle him into doing this alone.”

  Oh, crap. Trav was in on the non-lie because, God knows, Jena had covered for him with Mrs. Walker often enough, but Jena knew he would never be able to resist Sharon if she went full-out charm. No one could. Travis was toast, and so was Jena if her mom got him on the phone.

  Must act like I don’t care. If she smells fear, it’s all over.

  Jena shrugged and kept folding. “If you feel you must, Mom. This client is a special patient. Trav will love getting all of the brownie points for helping Dr. Call’s family friend.” Seeing her mother’s hesitation, Jena zoomed in for the kill. “It’s all right, really. I’ll just call and tell Travis I’m staying here. It won’t matter much if I get that job in Hawaii…”

  Jena felt like such a bitch. Her mother lived in daily fear that her last chick—Jena—would follow her brothers’ examples and fly so far that Sharon couldn’t dig her talons in. Jena’s childhood best friend, Luke, had been “looking into jobs” for her ever since he’d moved to Hawaii five years earlier. Jena felt no need to inform her mother that there was little to no chance that she would be moving until she finished her master’s program. Jobs for half-trained physical therapists, at least ones that paid enough to live in the most expensive state in the US, were slim.

  “No, no,” Sharon backpedaled rapidly, “that’s fine, I suppose. You have to look after your career, Jena. I understand that. And Dad and I will have you home for Thanksgiving soon enough. The boys are both on their ‘in-law dinner’ year—” she rolled her eyes “—so we’re counting on you bringing a dinner guest. Any interesting prospects?”

  There was no chance Jena was saying anything. Sharon with a little information was like a combination of a pit bull and a mailman: neither rain, nor sleet, nor gloom of night would keep her jaws out of Jena’s ass until every atom of her daughter’s life was deconstructed and examined. Whatever was happening with Nicholas was so new that Jena meant to keep it close until she could figure out where they were going…if they were going anywhere. Then she’d throw him to the wolf and see if he survived.

  “Mom. Really. I work full time, go to school, and I live with a guy. Not many men are brave enough to even ask what the fu—dge is up with that.”

  Jena whipped her hair into a quick ponytail and smiled. All absolutely true. She just didn’t answer her mother’s question. Jena decided she liked non-lying: all of the satisfaction of having a private life and none of the guilt.

  “All right, all right. I’ll leave you alone. But you can’t fool me, Jena. Your ears just turned the brightest purple I’ve ever seen.” Sharon smiled slyly and walked up the stairs, humming.

  Jena scowled and ripped the elastic out of her hair, cursing, just as her cell beeped. “Yeah, what?” she snapped.

  Nicholas’s chuckled. “I’m guessing you didn’t get away with the non-lie?” he asked, being in on Jena’s theory of non-lying as the path to parental contentment.

  “Oh, everything was going fine until she asked me if I had a nice guest to bring for Thanksgiving dinner. I was feeling smug and pulled my hair back, and she saw my ears go red. Fucking ears, for God’s sake, ruined me.” Jena kicked the dryer door, muttering.

  “I’ll have to remember that, in case you try non-lying to me.” They both laughed for a second and then Nicholas asked, “So, what did you tell her?”

  “You know the story as well as I do. I said I have to go home to—”

  “No, I mean about the nice guest.” Nicholas’s voice was quieter. “Do I qualify?”

  Jena’s mind was a smooth blank for a second before her mind started to roil at the impossibility of controlling everything during such a visit.

  “Yeah, like you’d want to spend your holiday in the toddlin’ town of Ashland, Oregon,” she joked weakly. “Besides, isn’t your mama going to want to see her one and only little boy for Thanksgiving?”

  “Mama’s little boy can’t afford to go home for Thanksgiving and then for Christmas a month later,” Nicholas said ruefully. “I have to pick one or the other, and Christmas is a given with my mom.” They were quiet for a minute.

  When Nicholas spoke again, he sounded embarrassed. “Never mind. I didn’t mean to invite myself to your family dinner, Jena. I’m an idiot.”

  “No, you’re not, doofus. You just surprised me. I mean, I have told you about my mom and dad, haven’t I?” They laughed again, and Jena relaxed. “It’s a date. If you haven’t met an incredible girl who sweeps you off your feet by then, I would love to have you here to draw some of my mother’s intense attention off of me.”

  The thought of Nicholas meeting someone else between then and Thanksgiving made it hard to breathe, but Jena had to put it out there. Despite all of the late night talks they had been indulging in for the last week, nothing had been said about any commitments, and Jena was not going to be the one to bring it up and sound all girly and clingy.

  “Thank you for your consideration, Ms. Baker, but I don’t se
e that happening.” Nick’s voice dropped to a rumble. “You see, I can’t seem to get this sexy physical therapist off my mind…”

  Sliding down to the floor to sit, Jena leaned against the washer. “Poor baby. What exactly is distracting you?”

  “Lots of things, actually. Her eyes that tease me. Her sense of humor. An uncontrolled tongue that drives me crazy by saying the things it does. An incredibly sharp mind. Her insane musical taste.” Nicholas continued over Jena’s laughter. “Her wicked smile. Her hands…”

  Nick had to be able to hear her breathing now. “Yes?” Jena asked. “Her hands?”

  “They’re strong and capable, but also gentle,” Nicholas murmured. “But that isn’t even the real issue right now.”

  “What is the real issue, Nicholas?” Now Jena knew he could hear her heart. It was pounding so loud she wouldn’t be surprised if her parents heard it upstairs.

  “Her thighs. I can’t stop thinking about how they feel under my hands. And against my cheek. So soft.” He groaned. “This time last week, my fingers were sliding up them and all over your skin, Jena. And before that, it had been so long since I touched you…” He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I hope I’m not ruining anything by saying this, but I want you so much. I fucking crave you, Jena. Every day it gets worse. I want to feel your thighs wrapped around me, and hear you sighing my name. God, I’ve been dreaming about you for so long…”

  “Wow.” Jena’s voice sounded shaky even to her. “Hard to imagine these could cause you such distress.” She drew her hands slowly and lightly over her legs, letting her fingers tickle her inner thighs. Jena closed her eyes and envisioned Nicholas’s long, agile fingers against her overheated skin.

  “Jena, please tell me you’re not really touching your thighs,” Nicholas said.

  “Umm-hmm.” Jena’s breath hissed between her teeth as her fingertips brushed her underwear.

  “Jesus Christ, you are trying to kill me,” he murmured. “I’m getting off this phone right now. I have a little problem to take care of.”

  “Little?” Jena asked archly.

  “Scratch that. Huge. Enormous and perfect in every way. This conversation is such a bad idea, Jena, if you want me to behave on our date tomorrow. What should I wear? See? You’re making me a chick now.”

  “We’re just talking, Nicholas. What could be wrong with that?” Jena answered, smiling at his disbelieving snort. “I’ll pick you up about eleven. Wear something comfortable to move around in, okay?”

  “Sure thing. Now, back to our former conversation, Ms. Tease…”

  Jena snickered and said a quick goodbye. Taking a few minutes to gather her composure, she replayed the conversation in her head. It was so different than what she’d worried would happen as she and Travis had wended their way to work almost a week before.

  She’d been so damned confused that morning. On one hand, she’d loved every minute she and Nicholas had spent together the night before; on the other hand, she was starting to feel a little ashamed of the way she’d acted. Jena had a sneaking suspicion Nicholas was going to think she was a total ho. Nothing about that night, or any time she’d spent with Nicholas, was typical for her, but he had no way of knowing that.

  Because they didn’t really know one another, did they? Despite what Nicholas had said, that worried her more than she cared to admit. All day, it gnawed at the back of her mind: who was that girl who slept with a virtual stranger? Because it certainly wasn’t the Jena Baker she’d stared at in the mirror for the last twenty-four years.

  She’d avoided his calls all evening, of which she wasn’t particularly proud. By the time she’d convinced herself that eight calls in a two-hour period didn’t exactly indicate that he considered her a one-night stand, he’d stopped calling.

  So it was perfectly understandable to Jena to be a little wary when she’d seen him at work on Monday. And then Nicholas had asked her to give him a chance, and his eyes had been so hopeful that she’d softened. When he’d touched her face and kissed her…God, what else could she do? She’d responded. If Conor hadn’t come in when he did, Jena was absolutely sure she and Nicholas would have ended up at one of their apartments, and that whole doubt/shame spiral would have started over again.

  Instead, they had spent hours talking every night since, about anything that came into either of their heads, and Jena discovered she genuinely liked this man who ripped away her common sense and self-control. And now that she had a better idea of the mind that complemented the face, she wanted him more than she ever had before.

  So there she was, aching and wanting in her mother’s laundry room, anticipating and dreading the next day in about equal measures, when a knock at the door made her jump.

  “Still in there, Jen?” Her father’s voice was curious as he opened the door and saw Jena struggle to her feet. “I wanted to tell you good night and goodbye, honey. I’ll be long gone before you get going in the morning. Early meetings.”

  “Yep. Just finishing up here, Dad.” Jena gave him a hard hug, knowing she’d miss his calm humor long before Thanksgiving. Rob Baker needed that humor to stay levelheaded when his wife hypered herself into a frenzy.

  Rob hugged back, using the advantage of his position to say quietly, “You’d better bring him home with you at Thanksgiving, or I won’t be responsible for what your mother might do or say when she tracks him down—and you know she will.” Jena froze, and her dad laughed, pointing to the vent overhead. “The laundry room is not the best place to have phone foreplay. This vent goes right up to the living room, and your mom has had her ear pressed to the floor since she got upstairs.”

  Jena made a squawking noise and clutched the hair at the sides of her head, simultaneously trying to avoid looking at her father and to remember what she’d said to Nicholas.

  Rob patted her on the back and offered helpfully, “Try the bathroom with the fan on next time. Night, sweetie.” Jena heard him chuckling all the way up the stairs.

  Forget Thanksgiving. She was never coming home again. Ever. Sharon’s knowing smile when Jena kissed her good night and told her goodbye was the last nail in the coffin of Jena’s dignity, not that she had much to begin with.

  The next day, Jena drove straight to Nicholas’s apartment and ran up the three flights to knock lightly on the door. Conor opened the door and gestured for her to come in.

  “Hey, kid.” He looked Jena up and down in a frankly appreciative way, taking in her exercise shorts and tank. “Nice.” He gestured for her to turn around, and she laughed as she complied, knowing where he was looking. “Very nice,” Conor said, giving Jena a thumbs-up for her derrière as she curtseyed.

  “Hey, Nick! Dr. McHottie is here.” He wrapped Jena in a hug, watching with sparkling eyes as Nicholas stopped in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. “I love yankin’ Nick’s chain,” Conor murmured in her ear. “If you get a chance, ask him about Cheez Whiz.” Releasing her, Conor retreated into the hallway. “Have fun kids. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” His loud laugh was cut off by the click of a door.

  “I can’t even think of what that might be,” Nicholas grumbled. He looked at Jena with a smile. “Wow. You look great.” He crossed the room and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly.

  “I missed you,” he said before releasing all but her hand. “How do I look? Is this okay?”

  A few thousand choice comments ran through Jena’s head as she scanned his outfit of athletic shorts and a well fitting white tee, beginning with: You look edible. Doable. Oh, my God. She settled for, “You’ll do. Let’s go.”

  A quick drive took them to the UC Davis boathouse. Nicholas smiled as they got out of the car. “Are you sure I’m up for this? I just got the sling off a few days ago.”

  “Yep.” Jena walked to the door and unlocked it, leading Nicholas to the racks of boats and searching for a certain one. “Best exercise for anything, if you keep your limits in mind. This will be an easy row, just for fun.”
It occurred to her that his question might have been an attempt to get out of doing something he didn’t want to do. Flushing, she turned to him. “I’m sorry. I guess I should have asked if you still like to row, Nicholas. We can do something else if you’d rather not—”

  He stopped her with a gentle hand on her lips. “Nope. I like this idea. Back to the beginning.” He grinned as he trailed his fingers from her mouth to trace the neckline of her tank top. “You’re cute when you babble.” Nick’s eyes followed his fingers with fascination, and he licked his lips. “The rest of the time you’re just irresistible,” he said, stepping forward to press his lips firmly on hers.

  Resistance didn’t even cross Jena’s mind as she slid her hands over his shoulders and upward to stroke the hair at the nape of his neck. He moaned in the back of his throat and folded her closer, running his hands over her back and hips as his tongue met hers. When he lifted Jena to sit on a low repair table, she took advantage of the position to wrap her leg around his hip and pull him hard against her. Nick chuckled, putting a hand flat on the table on either side of her hips and moving forward until she was leaning back on her elbows, almost lying on the table. His mouth traced kisses down the side of her neck as Jena arched her head back, and he slid one hand under the hem of her shirt to lightly caress her stomach. She inhaled sharply, then let the air out with a sigh and whispered, “Nicholas.”

  His touch became more urgent, traveling upward to her breast. “Too many clothes,” he muttered, pushing aside the cup of her bra.

  “Just five pieces,” Jena whispered in his ear.

  He stopped moving. “Shoes count as two?”

  “Yep.”

  Nick rested his forehead against Jena’s chest and shook his head. “That’s my girl,” he said.

  The sound of the boathouse door crashing open was followed by a giggle and a loud, “Oops!” before the door shut with a bang.

  Nicholas and Jena froze and stared at each other, breathing raggedly. She felt a hot blush flood her face before the incongruity of their position struck her funny bone. She snickered, and in an instant he joined in, tugging Jena upright and setting her feet on the floor. Kissing the top of her head with a loud smack, he squeezed her, resting his cheek on her hair.