by Jenna Jacob
Once downstairs, I avoided the barrage of questions being pelted at me by giving the rest of the guys the same muddy excuse I’d used on Ross.
Finally, Burk slapped me on the back, shoved a pair of shades and a ball cap in my hand, and told me to have a safe trip. Then the man called a driver, who whisked me to the airport.
Stretched out on the long leather seat inside the jet, I hoped I could catch some z’s. Unfortunately, the prospect of seeing Tori again had me too keyed up to sleep.
If I was actually lucky enough to find her, I had no idea how she’d react. Would she slam the door in my face or melt into my arms? While I hoped for the latter I knew the odds were stacked against me. I was pretty confident that after she’d sold me out, I was the last guy on the planet she wanted to see again.
Too bad.
Regardless of my welcome, Elizabeth, or rather Tori, owed me some answers. After that, I’d be the one to walk out the door and not look back. It might take a lifetime or two before I fully exorcised her from my system, but at least I’d have some closure.
Still, my brain wouldn’t shut down, and a million scenarios of laying eyes on her again rolled through me until my eyelids grew heavy. I was somewhere over California or maybe Nevada when the droning sound of the plane’s engines finally lured me to sleep.
♫
Tori
“Remember, keep the sugar intake to a minimum so Dustin isn’t bouncing off the walls all day. Oh, and it’s his turn to bring treats for playgroup. I made some banana yogurt bites last night. They’re in the freezer. But you need to take them out an hour before you leave so none of the kids break a tooth. And—”
“Stop. I have it all under control,” my dad assured. Using his good hand, he passed my lunch sack to me like he used to when I was in grade school. “This isn’t my first rodeo. I raised you by myself and you turned out just fine. Dustin will do the same. But if you don’t get moving, you’re going to be late for work.”
I glanced at the clock and cringed, then kissed his warm cheek. “Thank you, Daddy. I couldn’t do any of this without you.”
“Yes, you could. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. Besides, I’m the one who should be thanking you. If you hadn’t helped me sell that big old house, the monstrosity would be rotting out from under me. Or I’d be sitting in that rehab center reeking of death and urine, sipping tapioca. Thankfully, you put your foot down and told my inept cardiologist where he could stick his rehab center.”
A chill slid down my spine as I remembered touring that horrific facility. No way was I going to let my dad—my Superman—spend a single day in that hellhole.
Glancing at his left hand, I noted the three fingers that had been tightly clenched after his stroke last spring were almost completely functional now. Of course, Dad and I had worked ardently to strengthen the brain-to-muscle communication while I studied and earned my physical therapy license.
It had been some crazy times then.
In the midst of hospitals, specialists, school, and trying to take care of a baby, I sold our home in Kansas City, found a cozy three-bedroom ranch in a quaint Kansas town fifty miles away, and moved us all in.
It was the best choice I could have made. Dad was thriving. Dustin was thriving. And me? Well, I was…surviving.
After grabbing my purse, I hurried to the front door and remembered… “I almost forgot. Judy is coming at eleven. She’ll pick you both up and bring you back after playgroup. If you need any—”
“Anything, I’ll call…like I always do. Now shoo. Go to work, baby girl.”
“When Dustin wakes up, give him a kiss and tell him I love him.”
“I do, every morning. Now get out of here before Dr. Bennett fires you.”
“He’s not going to fire me, Dad.” I pinched my lips together, trying to decide if I should drop the bomb now or wait until… When? There’s never going to be a good time to break the news. “He’s, um…he’s been asking me out to dinner.”
The light in my dad’s eyes slightly dimmed. “Do you think fraternizing with your boss is a wise thing to do?”
“No. That’s why I’ve turned him down six times.”
“Six times, huh? He’s mighty persistent.” He tried to hide a knowing smile but failed. “Is that the only reason you’re turning him down…because he’s your boss?”
“Mostly, but I have Dustin to think about and…”
“Does he know you have a son?”
“Yes.”
“And what does he know about Dustin’s father?”
“Same as you… Nothing.”
“So, you’re keeping the good doctor in the dark like you are me, huh?”
Like always, my father’s dig stung, but over the years, I’d learned to live with the pain. He had every reason to be bitter. I’d let him down…embarrassed and disappointed him. But mostly, I’d hurt his feelings because I refused to share a single detail about Dustin’s father with him, or anyone. I wasn’t hiding the information to be cruel, I simply couldn’t part with one soul-melding, heart-stealing, life-altering second I’d spent with rock star Darren Ash. Those precious memories were mine, and mine alone.
A hint of guilt softened my dad’s expression as he crossed the distance between us and hugged me tightly. “If you want to go out with your boss, do it. Lord knows it’d do you a world of good to start dating. It’s not healthy for a pretty young girl to be cooped up in this house with her old man and son night after night.”
“But I enjoy spending my nights with my two favorite men.”
Sadness and concern wrinkled his brow. “Did Dustin’s daddy hurt you so bad you’re afraid to give any other man a chance?”
“Is that what you think…that he hurt me?” He gave me a bewildered shrug. “No. He didn’t hurt me or force himself on me… It wasn’t anything like that. Trust me, if I’d been raped, you would have been the first to know.”
Having a child of my own now, I knew well that genetic commandment to protect your young. I should have told Dad long ago, everything had been consensual.
“He might not have hurt you on purpose, baby girl, but emotional pain can leave just as many scars as the physical kind. I worry when I see you close yourself off. You’re a warm, loving, and caring woman, Tori. You need to share your big heart with a special man.”
I didn’t want to worry Dad more by confessing that I’d already given my big heart to a special man—Darren Ash, superstar and lead guitarist for Licks of Leather, the hottest rock band ever. Or that he owned more than my heart—he owned my soul, now and forever.
Instead, I lifted to my toes and kissed his warm cheek. “I love you, too, daddy.”
I sent him a tender smile and walked out the door. I hadn’t even made it to my car before images of the hot, muggy night Dustin was conceived crowded my brain. It had been the single most exhilarating experience of my life, long before our clothes came off. We’d shared a sensually spiritual and carnally primal connection mere words could not describe. Darren had filled me with peace, serenity, and purpose. He’d affected me in ways I never knew possible…was still affecting me.
He’d changed my life in more ways than one and given me the greatest gift of a lifetime…Dustin. That precious eighteen-month-old bundle of love and energy who was the light of my life. And he was the spitting image of his father, from his thick, dark hair and emerald-green eyes all the way to his adorable dimpled cheeks. I couldn’t look at my son without images of Darren roaring to life. Most times I shoved the memories away before they wrecked me. But sometimes I held them tight, savoring every one of Darren’s words, kisses, and caresses to remind myself that I was more than a daughter and a mother, and relive the way he’d freed the passionate, uninhibited woman who had been hiding inside me.
Like always, my reasons for being at Darren’s concert that night sent claws of guilt and shame climbing up my spine. Leaning forward, I turned on the radio, cranked up the volume, and tried to ignore them.
&nbs
p; By the time I pulled into the parking lot of Bennett Rehabilitation and Chiropractic Clinic, I’d managed to shove my remorse down and was belting out the empowering song about being a firework and letting my colors burst. I had my head on straight again, at least until I glanced at the clock and saw I was five minutes late for work. After killing the engine, I grabbed my purse and lunch and sprinted inside the clinic.
As I stepped through the door, I noted that Tanya, the receptionist, wasn’t at her desk. The next thing to grab my attention was the sappy love song blaring through the overhead speakers, replacing the usual upbeat pop tunes used to motivate the patients doing their PT exercises. The fear that another dinner invitation was looming on my horizon sent dread snaking through me.
It wasn’t because Dr. Brice Bennett was a troll by any stretch of the imagination. He was the complete opposite. Single and in his early thirties, Brice had blond hair, sapphire eyes, a sculpted face, and a bodybuilder physique. He was funny, rarely lost his temper, and was financially loaded. In reality, he was the male equivalent to Mary Poppins—practically perfect in every way. Sadly, he didn’t do a thing for me or my libido. He wasn’t Darren. The bad-boy rocker had ruined me for all others. No man on the planet could hold a candle to him. For me, dating was a waste of time, and I honestly didn’t need any more disappointment in life.
As Adele crooned about a fire in her soul, I tucked my bittersweet memories of Darren away and made my way to the physical therapy arena. When I rounded the corner, my boss strolled from the break room, with two mugs of steaming coffee in his hands.
“Morning, Tori.” He flashed me a wide smile.
“Morning. Where’s Tanya?”
“Out sick with the flu.”
“Oh, the poor thing.”
He nodded and handed me one of the mugs before sweeping a slow stare up and down my body. “You look gorgeous, as always. What did you do differently to your hair?”
Seriously? What man notices a woman’s hair?
“I trimmed a little off the ends last night,” I replied before taking a sip of caffeine.
“It looks…pretty.”
“Thanks,” I said, ignoring his seductive tone.
As I started toward the break room, he stepped in front of me, blocking the way.
“When are you going to put me out of my misery and let me take you to dinner?”
Mentally thanking my dad, I whipped out his rational, “I don’t think it’s wise since you are my boss, Dr. Benn—”
“Brice. I told you to call me, Brice. Remember?”
“Yes, I know, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m your employee. It’s best if we don’t blur those lines.”
“The only thing blurring is my vision because of your blinding beauty.”
The man was bolder and more aggressive without Tanya around. I wasn’t sure if I should feel flattered or panicked.
“Thank you, but we can’t…date.”
“Why not?”
“B-because I… I…” My heart belongs to a ghost.
“See?” Brice smiled warmly. “There is no tangible reason we can’t enjoy a nice quiet dinner together.”
Sure there was…my inability, or rather cowardice, to erase said ghost from my psyche. Of course, I could never tell Brice I was in love with a man I’d never see again and that I’d been living like a nun the past two years. He’d think me completely insane.
I probably was. Sane women didn’t let life pass them by while holding on to hopeless fantasies. Sensible women put the past behind them and forged a new future…a new destiny.
Maybe Dad was right. Maybe going out on a few dates would do me some good.
So what if I didn’t feel fireworks and butterflies with Brice. Dating the handsome doctor wouldn’t be a hardship. He could definitely provide my son, my father, and me a safe, secure future. And maybe someday I’d learn to like the man. Lord knows I could do worse. At least I’d never have to scrimp and save to buy Dustin’s shoes and clothes or Dad’s expensive prescriptions again. Or worry about what city he was in or how many women he was taking to bed.
Those were just two of the multiple reasons I needed to stop obsessing over Darren. I’d never enjoy a safe, secure future with a rock star. Especially one who’d probably forgotten all about me the second his tour bus pulled out of town. It was time for me to lock away my fantasies and memories of Darren, for good.
“Hello? Is anyone here?” a familiar female voice called from the lobby.
“We’re back here…in the therapy room, Mrs. Palmer.” Brice’s lips curled as if he’d just sucked a lemon.
The sound of heels clicking against the linoleum announced the woman’s arrival long before she entered the room, clutching her hip with a grimace.
The late-fortysomething divorcée, complaining of one malady after another, came in—without an appointment—nearly every day and was always dressed for seduction. Today’s desperate do-me ensemble, consisting of a hot pink, skintight spandex dress barely covering her backside, a shocking pink Dolce & Gabbana purse, and matching mile-high stilettos was no exception.
“I’ll pick you up at your place tonight…six thirty,” Brice whispered in my ear before striding across the open expanse to greet his patient.
Anxiety started chugging through my veins, but before I could succumb to a full-blown panic attack, Dad’s voice echoed in my head. It’s not healthy for a pretty young girl to be cooped up in this house with her old man and son night after night. While his encouragement didn’t erase my fears, it knocked them down a peg or two.
Maybe dinner with Brice wouldn’t suck completely.
“O-okay,” I murmured, unsure if he’d even heard me over the moans of agony pealing off his patient’s lips.
“Help me, Dr. Bennett, I’m dying,” Mrs. Palmer wailed, stumbling toward him.
Brice had some darn fine reflexes. Instead of allowing her to plow into him and knock him to the floor—to no doubt try and have her wicked way with him—he simply squared his stance, gripped her elbow, and steadied her.
Displaying a chivalrous amount of restraint, Brice ignored the ample implants Mrs. Palmer was shoving in his face and locked a disapproving glare on her shoes.
“How many times have we discussed what wearing those kinds of heels will do to your spine, Mrs. Palmer? You have a compressed—”
“Don’t call me that. My name is Sylvia,” she huffed. “I loathe being reminded I married that ugly toad, Ralph.”
“And I loathe lecturing you about wearing these types of shoes…Sylvia.”
“I can’t help it,” she whined. “They make my legs look so sleek and sexy. See?”
As she pointed her toe and flexed a calf muscle, I hurried to the break room, rolling my eyes. After tucking my lunch into the fridge, I brewed a fresh pot of coffee and wiped off the counters, table, and stove to keep from returning to the therapy arena to avoid watching the hungry cougar devour her prey.
I felt sorry for Brice. He was a good man. He didn’t deserve his patients hitting on him this way.
“Oh, yes. Yes. There. Right there,” Sylvia moaned. “Harder. Deeper. That’s it… Oh, Brice…you have sinful fingers.”
Biting back a laugh, I peered out the doorway. Sylvia was facedown on the traction table, praising Brice with throaty porn star moans. When he slowly lifted her leg so he could rotate the femoral head of her hip, I was blinded with the sight of Sylvia’s bare pussy. The crazy bitch had come to the clinic commando.
Working to scrub the visual away, I saw Brice pale as he lowered the woman’s leg and tossed a horrified glance my way.
“Tori, would you please finish manipulating Mrs. Palmer’s hip while I get the ice pad?”
What? No.
I’d rather work the articular cartilage of old man Hastings’ gnarly, arthritic feet, which, at the moment, seemed like a day at the beach. But I could tell Brice was done dealing with the woman.
“Of course, Doctor.” Painting on a tight smile, I started
toward commando queen.
“Let her get the ice pad,” Sylvia bit out.
“Not today,” Brice boomed in a tone I’d never heard him use, before storming from the room.
When he was gone, Sylvia let out a frustrated huff, sat up, and waved me away. “My hip is better now. I’m leaving.”
She charged down the hall, heels clacking like chickens pecking corn. I wanted to laugh. Seconds later, Brice returned with the ice pad and quirked a curious brow at the empty table.
“You’re safe. She left.”
“Oh, thank god. That was…awkward as hell.”
“And shocking.” I smirked.
“I’m just glad you were watching all that…insanity. I wouldn’t put it past that woman to claim I touched her inappropriately today.”
“I can vouch that you didn’t, but I understand your worry. She’s beyond desperate.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” Brice tossed the ice pad to the table and scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Anybody back there?” a man gruffly hollered from the lobby.
“Yes, Mr. Abrahams. Come on back,” Brice responded.
“At least he won’t be wearing a dress or trying to seduce you,” I quipped with a grin.
“Let’s hope not.” He chuckled.
“I’ll go tape a note on the door directing the patients to come back here.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
After a rocky start, the day eventually smoothed out, but we were exceptionally busy, which wasn’t at all surprising for a Friday. Along with our regularly scheduled therapy patients, there was usually an influx of chiropractic walk-ins. Everyone wanted an alignment before the weekend started. And before I knew it, Brice was plucking his keys from his pocket, jogging to the lobby, and locking the front door. Instantly, my nerves started jumping. I hadn’t given a single thought to our date until that moment.
As he strolled into the therapy arena, wide smile and anticipation glimmering in his eyes, I was suddenly struck with a case of cold feet. While I was trying to remember why I thought having dinner with this man was a good idea, he moved in close and caressed my cheek.
