She shook her head. “I can’t do this.”
Oh, yes she could. And she wanted to. That he would put a whole bundle of money down on.
“Why not?”
“You’ve had an…unusual day. You’re not yourself.”
He felt more like himself than he had in a long time. “How do you figure that?”
She looked at him as if she was questioning if he had a head injury along with alcohol intoxication. She pushed against him once more and he finally released her enough for her to settle her full weight back on her own feet. He kept a hand on her hip, though, and didn’t step back.
She tucked a strand of hair that had escaped her twist behind her ear and pulled the hem of her dress down. It didn’t go down very far. This dress wasn’t made to cover things.
“Let’s see…” she said, her tone of voice suddenly conservative. “You punched a patient in the face and got suspended from the hospital. You hit one of your best friends and told the others to fuck off. And now you’re attempting to seduce a co-worker that you’ve barely noticed before now. Not to mention that your blood alcohol level is well above the legal limit. I’d say it’s a pretty safe assessment that you’re not yourself tonight. So, thank you for the offer, but I’m going to decline getting naked with you.”
The sheer prissiness of her voice was enough to amuse him. The haughty tilt to her chin, her arms crossed over her stomach, the rigidity in her spine and the way she looked like a woman who didn’t like to get her hair messed up made him want to mess it up good.
He also sensed her disappointment, not so much in how he was acting, but in the fact that she couldn’t bring herself to go ahead with the things she wanted. He didn’t think the things she wanted were a completely new concept to her. This felt more like passion that had been simmering; sizzling its way down a long fuse rather than a sudden, out of control, who-would-have-guessed kind of lust.
Jessica was responsible, dependable, steady, self-controlled…all of those good, conservative adjectives. Ben knew them well. He’d lived them his whole life.
“At least admit you want to go home with me.”
She sighed. “Fine. I do. I have a little thing for you. But I guess I pictured a first date differently from this.” Her hand gesture encompassed the bar, the five beefy guys playing pool, the geriatric bartender and the floor that hadn’t seen a soap bubble in a long, long time.
Ben smiled. Jessica was stuck. She had to take him home. She couldn’t leave because she truly believed he needed her and she couldn’t throw him over her shoulder and forcibly take him out of the bar.
“If I’m not going to get any, that leaves only two other things I’m interested in,” he said.
“Which are?” she asked.
“Liquor and pool.” He stepped back from her. “Who’s in?” he asked the mediocre players he’d been losing game after game to all night.
Not that Ben cared. He’d come here to blow off some steam and make the night go faster, without having to hang out with the friends who wanted to know what was wrong, how he was, what he was going to do and on and on.
Ben didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to explain himself to anyone. And he shouldn’t have to. He was tired of medicine, tired of dedicating more time and energy toward people’s health and well-being than they did themselves, tired of the responsibility and the fact that no matter what he did, illness, injury and death could never be stopped. What was the point?
He tried to relax his grip on the triangle as he positioned it to rack the balls for the next game. It didn’t matter now. He’d quit. Walked out. Gotten suspended. It was all over.
“I’m in.”
Ben turned to see Jessica standing with her shoes off, holding a pool cue.
“Do you know how?” Ben asked, smiling at the picture she presented. This wasn’t the type of place he’d ever imaged her in, but she seemed to be adjusting…almost getting comfortable. Interesting. Very interesting.
“As bad as you suck, I’m not sure it matters if I know how,” she said. “But yeah, I’ve played.”
“By all means,” Ben said, gesturing at the table. “Show me what you’ve got.”
“I think we need to establish what the stakes are.” Jessica rubbed the little blue square of chalk over the end of her stick as she watched him.
He shrugged. “I’ve only got about fifty bucks left.”
Jessica moved into position to break. She leaned over the end of the table, her skirt riding up on the backs of her thighs, positioned the cue between her first two right-handed fingers and lined up her shot.
And he might let her win if it kept her standing like that.
“If I win, you let me take you home, finally.” She looked at him over her shoulder and smiled knowingly when she caught him studying her posterior assets.
“Okay.” This pool game suddenly seemed like the best idea he’d had in a long time.
Jessica looked smug as she turned back to line up her shot again.
“Don’t you want to know what I want if I win?” Ben asked, blatantly taking in the view.
“Sure. What do you want?”
“The next forty-eight hours with you.”
She stared at him over her shoulder, then straightened and faced him. “What?”
“If I win, you spend the next forty-eight hours with me.”
“Just like that?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. You drive me home and then you stay.”
“I’ve…um. I’ve got…stuff to do.”
“Call in sick.”
She didn’t hesitate. “I’m not sick.”
Ben shook his head. “And you won’t lie about something like that, right? It would be irresponsible.”
Jessica raised her eyebrows. “Of course it would be.”
Ben sighed. It was typical that the first woman he wanted to sleep with in far too long to remember was a good girl.
Ben rested a hip against the pool table and regarded Jessica. “What happens when you want to spend the whole day in bed?”
That annoying little flippy-thing happened in Jessica’s stomach again. It had been a long time since she’d wanted to stay in bed for the reasons Ben was implying. But, yeah, he had a point. If that happened, what would she do?
She cleared her throat. “I could put the stuff off until later, I guess.”
“I want you to spend the whole day with me,” Ben said seriously. “Two days, actually. Forty-eight hours.” Then he shrugged. “I can probably find someone else that would be interested though. Since you’re too busy.”
Jessica frowned. Come to think of it, she did feel ill when she thought of Ben with any other woman.
“Fine. My stuff can wait.”
Ben straightened and looked at her for a moment before he asked, “But you won’t lie about being sick, right?”
“I’m not sick,” she repeated. “But I’ll take care of it.”
“I’m sure you will,” he said, almost to himself. But before she could ask him what he meant he said, “So, it’s an enthusiastic yes?”
“It’s a reluctant fine.”
He grinned. “Good enough.”
Jessica broke the triangle of balls apart with a resounding clack…and went on to sink five of her seven balls before even pausing to survey the table.
Ben was staring at the pocket into which yet another striped ball had fallen when she turned to smile at him smugly. It was worth all the irritation to see that look on his face.
She walked around the edge of the table to position her next shot. As she pulled her cue back she was confident that she would only need one more shot after this. But as she started her forward motion, Ben leaned over.
“Look at this picture,” he said softly. “A long stick, hard balls, you bent over the table…”
She missed.
Jessica stared at the ball that had bounced off the edge of the table and rolled back toward her. Damn. That should have been an easy shot.
; Ben laughed and came around the corner of the table. He nudged her aside with his hip against hers.
“Okay, big shot. Let’s see if you can win without me letting you.” She slid over only enough to let him line up his shot and crossed her arms.
He lined up the shot and Jessica watched and heard the balls smack together, then the dull thud of them falling into the pockets: two balls in the same shot, in two corner pockets on the opposite end of the table. It was a brilliant shot. The shot of someone who had played a lot. Not the shot of someone who had been losing money at the game. Not the shot of someone who had been drinking heavily.
He continued shooting until no solid balls were left on the green surface.
“Game over,” Ben announced as the eight ball was still rolling down the chute. He tossed his pool cue onto the table.
She was still staring at the table.
“Let’s go.” Ben took her hand and started toward the door without a word to any of the people he’d spent the better part of his time, and wallet, on.
“You could have done that all along, couldn’t you?” she asked, grabbing her purse off the sticky tabletop as they passed and then tripping along behind him.
He glanced back at the table. “Yeah, probably.”
“Why didn’t you? With those guys? Why drop all that money?” she asked as he pulled her out the door and into the parking lot.
He shrugged. “No motivation to win.”
Jessica suddenly realized that she might have her hands full with Ben Torres. Still stunned over how he’d finished the pool game just as she’d been completely convinced he could barely walk a straight line, Jessica stopped at her car door and inserted the key to unlock it. She might have her hands too full with him, she amended. And not in a good way.
“Jessica.”
She turned and he immediately pressed in close, backing her up against the car.
He dipped his head, his lips moving toward hers and Jessica thought her heart would stop. She leaned closer, her lips parted and she felt his breath on her lips.
And the smell of beer hit her.
She pulled back, as difficult as it was up against the car. She felt hot all over; at the same time feeling the sharp stab of disappointment that this moment wasn’t exactly as she’d pictured it. She fought the urge to sigh as she stared into those brown eyes and wanted desperately to let it all happen.
It would be good. And what was the harm? One night with a great guy. She deserved that, didn’t she?
It was just one night, anyway. A few hours. It wasn’t like she would be completely reverting back to everything she’d managed to escape. She wouldn’t be smoking and drinking and partying all night. It wasn’t illegal or dangerous. She wouldn’t wake up with any piercings or tattoos she couldn’t account for. They’d use a condom and everything would be okay. She could get right back on track in the morning.
At the latest tomorrow afternoon.
For sure by evening.
Ben leaned in and kissed her neck, behind her ear and Jessica’s knees went weak. She felt the clasp in her hair release and the twist tumble free. Ben tossed the clip on top of the car’s roof before his fingers threaded through her hair and tipped her head to the side. His lips followed the curve to her collarbone and back up to her ear.
“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Ben said gruffly, running his hand through her hair from her scalp to her shoulder blades over and over.
“You never…” She trailed off, knowing, of course, why he hadn’t said anything or acted on it.
“We worked together.”
She bit her bottom lip and nodded her understanding.
He dipped his head. “But now we don’t have to worry about that.”
Oh, yeah, the little detail of his suspension. Which reminded her of the little detail of him acting completely out of character tonight. And the fact that if she hadn’t shown up tonight he would be out here pressing a blonde or a redhead or both up against a car.
She’d wanted Ben since she’d worked that first trauma with him six months ago. He’d been bold, confident and skilled in the ER, but he’d really done it to her when she’d gone with him to talk with the victim’s family afterward. He’d been straightforward but compassionate, patiently answering questions, admitting that he couldn’t work miracles, but assuring them that he’d do all he could. There was something about the way he met their eyes and the body language he used, or the tone of voice, or all of the above, that calmed them and gave them the trust that they needed to let Ben do what their son needed him to do.
That was the Ben she wanted. The sexy, charming hero of the ER. Not this trouble-making playboy.
“Ben, when I get you home it will be to sleep only.”
“Can I at least kiss you one more time?” His voice was low and husky.
Jess had never wanted anything more in her life.
“Can you pass a breathalyzer test?” she asked.
He thought about it for a second. Then shook his head. “No.”
“There’s your answer.”
He watched her closely for a moment and she felt that if he kept staring at her like that he’d eventually be able to read her thoughts.
“Do you always do the right thing?”
Oh, boy. Always? As in every minute of her life?
She stood up straighter. “I try to.” Which was completely true. In the past several years, she had expended more energy on doing the right thing than on anything else.
“Doesn’t that get exhausting?” he asked.
In that moment he seemed as sober as she’d ever seen him.
“You have no idea.” She sighed.
“Do you ever have any fun?” He seemed concerned.
She frowned at him. “Of course.”
He tipped his head to one side. “Are you sure?” he asked, clearly not believing her at all.
He had no idea.
She lifted her chin. “Perhaps your idea and my idea of fun are different.”
He chuckled then. “Maybe. But I don’t think so.” He trailed a finger down her arm from shoulder to wrist. “At least, not in every respect.”
She couldn’t suppress the shiver of delight his touch created. “You can be sure that I prefer fun I’m going to remember in the morning.”
He continued smiling at her. “You’ll remember it tomorrow. And for the rest of your life.”
Oh, the confidence. The sexiness.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I meant you.”
He didn’t reply right away, but watched her as if trying to decide the best way to convince her of something. Then he asked, “What’s the right thing to do right now?”
“To ask you to get in the car so I can take you home.” Not that it was exactly what she wanted to do, but it was the right thing.
He nodded slowly. “Okay.”
She looked at him in surprise. “So, you do know how to take advice.”
He leaned in until their eyes were level. “I do want a few things from you, Jessica, but advice is not one of them.” He clamped her hair clip onto the strap of her purse, then turned and strode around the front of the car and got into the passenger’s side without another argument or comment.
Jessica pulled in a long breath before getting behind the wheel. She wasn’t sure how she was going to survive the next several hours with Ben. She was either going to end up vowing to never speak to him again, or seducing him. Or both.
Thankfully, Ben didn’t seem inclined to converse on the drive. He rested his head against the seat and closed his eyes.
Jessica, on the other hand, felt like she’d just finished a marathon.
Her heart rate and the spinning thoughts had started slowing when she saw movement on the right hand side of the road a few yards ahead. She slowed and peered into the darkness. As they approached she could tell it was a man. He was waving his arms furiously, trying to get their attention.
“Ben? Are you awake?” she asked as she checked the mirror.
There was no one behind them.
“Mmm-hmm.”
She glanced at Ben. He didn’t look very awake.
“Ben? There’s somebody up there, flagging us down.”
Their headlights arched over the back of the man’s compact car, him and…
“Ben!” Jessica hit the brake and threw the car into park. “Call 9-1-1!”
Ben sat upright quickly and fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone. “What’s going on?”
“There’s a woman beside the road.”
Jessica was out of the car and slamming the door by the time she finished the sentence.
The woman lay on her right side, one leg bent awkwardly underneath her. She was unconscious, the left side of her face covered in blood.
Jessica knelt beside her.
“What happened?” she asked the man.
“I hit her,” he said.
His voice wobbled and Jess looked up. His face was pale in the illumination of the headlights and Jess realized that if he went into shock she would have two patients on her hands.
“Sir, you have to calm down. And sit down,” she said in her most forceful voice. If he fainted and fell on the pavement he could get hurt. She didn’t need two patients.
“I didn’t see her… I didn’t…”
“Sir!” Jessica said loudly. “Sit down!”
“Is she…”
“I’m a nurse,” Jessica told him as she felt for the woman’s pulse. “I’m going to help her. You have to sit down.”
She couldn’t feel a beat at the woman’s wrist. Jess bit her bottom lip and put her ear next to the woman’s mouth. She didn’t dare move her, not knowing her status, but she had to determine if the victim was breathing.
The man slumped to the grass at the side of the road and immediately started sobbing. “She was jogging, or something. I didn’t see her.”
“They’re on their way,” Ben said, joining Jessica beside the woman. “What do we have?”
Jess didn’t answer, holding her breath as she tried to determine if the woman breathed. She placed a hand on the woman’s chest, trying to feel for the rise and fall of her chest, as it was far too dark to make out something so subtle. Jess felt her adrenaline pump through her veins as she realized the woman wasn’t breathing.
Just Right: The Bradfords, Book 1 Page 4
