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Not Quite Dating

Page 13

by Catherine Bybee


  Jack brought both hands to her face and forced her eyes to his. “It’s just a shirt.”

  She realized that it was a dress shirt and that Jack wasn’t wearing his normal jeans and hat. Had Monica called him off a date?

  She wanted to ask but didn’t really want to know.

  Using his thumb, Jack wiped away her tears. “You want me to beat this Brad guy up?”

  She laughed, despite herself. “He’s a lawyer.”

  “Probably a sissy in a fight.”

  “He’ll press charges and have the last laugh.” The testosterone kick of Jack’s words sure was nice to hear. “Thanks for the offer.”

  Jack’s grin slowly faded as he stood there holding her. His eyes roamed her face; his thumbs went from wiping away her tears to stroking the outline of her bottom lip. It was as if he were memorizing her. Taking in every detail, every line, and committing it to memory.

  Jessie found herself studying him. Gray eyes held silver flecks that sparkled from time to time. Running a finger along his jaw, she noticed the bristles of a five o’clock shadow. He was clean shaven most of the time, but his jaw took on a more rugged appeal when he was like this. She liked it. The hard edge of Jack that made him want to stand up for her and kick Brad’s butt.

  Her eyes focused on Jack’s soft lips, next to his bristled chin.

  Kissable lips. She wanted those lips against hers in the worst way.

  Jessie trembled in his arms and pulled her lower lip between her teeth.

  A questioning expression spread over his face, his hands tightened, and she swayed forward and placed her lips to his. There was no slow boil, no simmering steam. They went from hot to hotter instantly. Jack tilted his head and deepened their kiss. Fingers in his hair, Jessie enjoyed the silky feel of it, of him.

  Their tongues fought for control as they explored each other.

  He was perfect. Strong and hard in all the right places and so soft and caring in others. His mouth assaulted hers, but his hands slowly stroked her back and waist. Desire and need for this man, this dreamer, ate away at her resolve. Already her nipples pebbled to tight buds and her body hummed.

  Jack’s hand traveled low on her back until she felt it round over her bottom. The intimate touch held both relief and frustration. Relief because Jack’s hands were on her, and not only in a dream. Frustration because of how she shouldn’t be enjoying his kiss, his touch, so much.

  Jack tore his lips from hers and moved to explore her neck, her ear.

  She gasped and tilted her head back. Her clothes suddenly felt too tight, itchy.

  Friends with benefits. They could do that…right?

  But they couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to Jack. It would be easy for her to take him to her cold and lonely bed, but then what?

  What about tomorrow? Jessie hated that she couldn’t remove these lurking thoughts from her head and just enjoy the man’s touch.

  What if it didn’t work out? How could their friendship survive?

  Jessie realized her hand had slipped into his shirt and was clutching his bare skin. She pulled her hand away. “Jack,” she whispered.

  He stopped kissing her neck and focused his gaze on hers.

  “We…we shouldn’t be doing this.” Not now, not after a date from hell, not with her emotions running high. She needed to think, make educated decisions about the man in her arms.

  “You want this as much as I do,” Jack stated the obvious.

  There could be no denying that. “I don’t want regrets, Jack. You evoke so many emotions inside of me, I can’t see straight.”

  “Darlin’, that makes two of us.”

  “But…we’d have regrets. Maybe not today, but tomorrow or the next day.” When Jack took his fill and left to follow his next dream. She’d have a heaping boatful of regrets.

  “I have never, nor will I ever, regret any time I spend with you.” His sober words made her realize how many regrets she would hold.

  “I value our friendship…If we do this, there would be no friendship.”

  Jessie knew he couldn’t deny her words.

  Jack groaned and kissed her forehead before breaking their contact.

  Her body cooled instantly, a root of reality already reaching its fingers around her heart and giving it a tight squeeze.

  Jack gathered his jacket and pushed his arms into it. At the door, he turned to her. “You have my number.”

  Which meant she’d have to make the next move.

  “Thanks.”

  Jack nodded, passed her one long, heated stare, and walked out her door.

  Jack slipped into his shower and blasted the water on cold. There was nothing remotely satisfying about a cold shower. The only thing it served was cooling his enraged hormones that were on a continual high cycle when in the presence of Jessie.

  She’d been so vulnerable tonight. In hindsight, he was happy she’d pulled away. Left to himself, he wouldn’t have. They would have both enjoyed each other in bed, but he could see the pain in Jessie’s eyes; she would have regretted it.

  She would have been right. Once they slept together, this pseudofriendship would blow up like smoke and Jack would hold on to her as tight as he could. No more misfit dates with lawyers who took her as easy. No more pretending not to care if another man looked at her with desire. Jack Morrison was a good many things, but he didn’t share his women, and none had meant as much as Jessie did.

  Jack let the cool water run over his face before turning and allowing it to drip down his back. He started to cool his jets, but his insides still flamed. Only now, they were in an all-fire pisser about Brad the snake. How dare the man expect something from a first date with a woman he barely knew?

  How could the man ever mistake Jessie for that kind of woman? Kind and caring, Jessie deserved respect. Jack knew she was worried about his feelings when she’d backed away from sleeping with him tonight. She didn’t want him falling for her because she wasn’t ready to return the sentiment. What Jessie didn’t realize was her efforts were already too late.

  Jack turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Grabbing a towel, he dried himself off.

  Too late. Jack had it bad.

  Then there was Danny…Lord, that kid had grown on him. How his real father could walk away and never look back ticked Jack off.

  He wrapped the towel around his hips and ran his fingers through his wet hair. “Be patient,” he told himself in the mirror.

  Patience was entirely overrated.

  Jessie jumped whenever a pickup truck pulled into the parking lot at work. Disappointment ran high when Jack didn’t emerge from any of them.

  She’d worked a couple of extra hours each morning for one of the day-shifters to make it easier on Monica, who was schlepping Jessie back and forth to work since they were down a car. Her car would be out of the shop in a couple of days, but boy did the extra expenses bite into Christmas.

  Danny deserved much more than she could provide.

  A man like Brad might have been able to provide some financial means, but he would have come up short on the emotional ones.

  What was worse, she wondered, a man who cared with all his being who would only be around a short while? Or a man who didn’t care at all?

  Would the money last longer than the memories?

  Would the heartache last longer than the money?

  It was midnight on her first night off since the disaster date with Brad. Jack didn’t call, didn’t stop by. Monica had finished her semester and was enjoying a long-overdue break by going to Big Bear, where the snow had come down in feet rather than inches. Monica didn’t ski, but she took pleasure in the snow and the guys who flocked to it.

  Jessie stared up at the ceiling in her room, unable to sleep.

  Danny had gone to bed early with a small cough.

  Slipping out of bed, Jessie tossed her robe over her shoulders and shoved her feet into her slippers.

  On her way to her kitchen to try some warm milk to help he
r sleep, she heard Danny coughing in his room.

  She pushed open his door and noticed that he’d pushed off all his covers. She stepped in and went to cover her son up. The sweat on his forehead stopped her. Placing the back of her hand to his face, she realized how hot he was.

  Danny started to cough again, and this time his eyes opened, glossy and unfocused.

  “Hey, handsome.”

  Danny’s little eyes instantly watered. “I don’t feel good, Mommy.”

  Jessie lifted him into a sitting position and he started to cough even harder. Under his pajamas, his skin burned with fever. “Wait here,” she told him before rushing to the bathroom to find the thermometer.

  “Here, buddy. Let’s see where you’re at.”

  She stuck the gauge between his lips and under his tongue. He coughed around it while she stripped the hot pajamas from his tiny body. The coolness of the room had him shivering, but Jessie remembered Monica talking about the kids who arrived in the clinic ill. “It’s not cruel to strip a burning kid down to his underwear. It’s much worse to let the fever stay high and keep all that heat in.”

  Danny kept coughing, only it didn’t sound like he was bringing anything up. He even had a squeaky noise when he pulled in a breath.

  Inside, Jessie started to panic. Outside, she smiled and stroked Danny’s head. Her car was in the shop and Monica was out of town.

  It was late at night, and the only place open was the emergency room at Upland Community.

  Jessie pulled the thermometer from Danny’s mouth and tilted the glass tube until she saw the red line: 104.2.

  Now it was time to panic.

  She hurried to the bathroom and found the chewable children’s Tylenol and glanced at the box to see how much to give him. The weight chart said two tablets, so she poured two in her hand and hurried back to Danny’s side.

  Danny whined when she handed him the medicine, his body shook, and his coughing never stopped. “Here, baby. Take these.”

  “Do they taste bad?”

  “They’re good, try ’em. They’ll make you feel better.” But 104.2 wasn’t good. She had to get him to a doctor. The cough worried her even more than the fever.

  She wished her sister were there helping her.

  Jessie ran to her bedroom, grabbed a cordless phone, and dashed back to Danny’s side.

  Her mother was too far away.

  Her fingers flew over the numbers, never hesitating.

  Jack answered on the first ring.

  “Jack, thank God you’re there.”

  “Jessie? What’s wrong? Are you OK?” There was panic in Jack’s voice, and her own heightened in response.

  “It’s Danny.” Danny started to cough again. “He’s sick and my car’s in the shop. He needs a—”

  “Stay calm. I’ll be right there.”

  “Hurry.” But he’d already hung up the phone.

  Jessie tossed a T-shirt over Danny’s head and propped him up on a few pillows on the couch. In her room, she stepped into the clothes she’d worn the day before and grabbed her purse from her dresser.

  Back in the living room, she unlocked the door and then had to wait. Danny’s eyes kept drifting shut between his fits of coughing. Jessie had never felt more helpless in her entire life.

  She rocked her son back and forth while he clutched Tex to his side. Jessie did her best to ignore his shaking body. This part of parenthood really sucked. Why couldn’t she be the one to get sick? Why Danny?

  She heard Jack’s footsteps running down the hall before her door swung open. He was there, thank God. Jessie wanted to cry in relief.

  Jack slowed his steps and reached down to take Danny from her arms. “Hey, partner.” He greeted her son first.

  Danny tried to smile, but he coughed instead.

  “See, that cough is bad,” Jessie said in alarm.

  Jack shook his head. “Shh, I got him. Grab your purse and lock the door.”

  “OK,” she said, following his instructions and taking her place at his side.

  The cool air outside hit her hard. Jack opened the passenger door and buckled Danny in the center seat. Jessie stepped in beside him and Jack ran around the truck to the driver’s side door.

  “Where is the nearest ER?” he asked.

  Jessie gave him directions and Jack drove. There was no small talk, no smiling. Jack looked just as concerned as she felt.

  At the hospital, Jack carried Danny inside. The lobby was a quarter full with mostly slumbering people who looked like they were waiting on family members.

  “Hello,” the lady behind the bulletproof glass said with a smile as she pushed a sign-in sheet in front of them.

  Jessie wrote down Danny’s name on autopilot. “He has a fever over 104, and his cough is making it hard for him to breathe.”

  The lady gave a sympathetic look and said, “I’ll get the triage nurse.”

  Jessie glanced up at Jack, who hadn’t sat down. Danny coughed on his shoulder.

  “What’s taking so long?” he asked, though the woman hadn’t been gone but a minute. When she walked back to the window, another, older lady stood there with a stethoscope around her neck and a pen in her hand. She looked through the window at Danny and motioned with her hand. “Come on back.”

  Around the corner, Jessie and Jack were led into the busy ER and placed in a small room. Jack sat next to the desk and placed Danny in his lap. Jessie grabbed a chair and moved it closer.

  “I’m Teresa, one of the nurses here. How long has Danny been sick?”

  “Only a few hours. He didn’t feel well before he went to bed, but he wasn’t coughing like this.”

  Teresa placed a sensor with tape on Danny’s finger. “How high was his fever at home?”

  “104.2. I gave him Tylenol right before we left.”

  “Good. Most parents just rush in and don’t think.”

  Teresa asked a series of other questions. Danny’s weight, previous illnesses, immunization status. Allergies to medicine. Jessie answered everything while the nurse wrote feverishly.

  She unplugged the sensor attached to Danny’s finger from the machine but kept it dangling on him. “His pulse ox is low; it’s a good thing you came in.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” Jack asked.

  “If left alone,” she confirmed. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of your little boy.”

  Neither Jessie nor Jack corrected the nurse.

  “His temperature is still high, 102.5. I’m going to give him some ibuprofen.”

  “Is that OK after he had the Tylenol?”

  “It’s perfectly fine. Both medications have the same goal, but they work differently. Lots of kids have high fevers, and we bring them down with both medications all the time.” Teresa stood and waved her hand. “Come on, Dad, follow me.” Jack followed the nurse with Danny while Jessie followed Jack.

  Chapter Eleven

  The nurse led them into a room where she turned on a monitor and plugged in the oxygen sensor Danny wore on his finger. Jack saw the number—ninety-four—but didn’t understand the significance of it. When the number dipped to ninety-two, the machine started beeping, which he didn’t think was a good thing. At some point, the nurse left the room to find a doctor, and Danny reached for his mother.

  Jessie pulled him into her lap and sat on the gurney with him. She swayed back and forth and spoke softly to Danny, who was more awake now and anxious about where he was and what was going to happen to him.

  “Are they going to give me a shot? I don’t want a shot.”

  Jack paced the room.

  “Let’s not worry about that, buddy,” Jessie told her son. She glanced over at Jack. “Hey, did you notice that Jack gave us a ride in his truck? Cool, huh?”

  Danny looked up at him. “I like your truck,” he said, glossy eyes and all.

  Jack knew Jessie was trying to distract her son. “When you’re all fixed up, we should go mud wampum in my truck,” he said. “That’s lots of fun.”
/>   “W-what’s that?” Danny asked through a cough.

  “It’s when we go out in the dirt after it rains and splash the truck in the mud puddles. In Texas, mud puddles get really big.”

  “I’d”—cough, cough—“like that.”

  The nurse returned with a doctor at her side. “Hi, folks, I’m Dr. Shields. This must be Danny.”

  Dr. Shields asked a bunch of questions while he listened to Danny’s lungs and examined his ears and throat. He glanced at the nurse and said, “Let’s get some Albuterol treatments going. When he’s finished with the first one, we’ll send him to X-ray to have a look.”

  Teresa left the room and Dr. Shields started to explain what was happening.

  “Danny’s never had asthma, allergies?”

  “No. Not really.”

  “He started kindergarten this year?”

  “Yes.”

  “Kindergarten exposes kids to all kinds of new and fun illnesses, I’m sorry to say. I’m going to give him a breathing treatment to open his airway, make it easier for him to breathe. Once his fever is down, he’ll probably relax and his oxygen saturation will improve. He has an ear infection, which I’ll send you home with antibiotics for, but I’ll want you to follow up with your pediatrician later this week.”

  Jack’s head spun. “Does he have asthma?”

  “I doubt it, since this is the first time he’s had these symptoms. Different things are blooming this time of year. Spring isn’t the only time allergies can cause issues. The winds that blow here cause havoc on many of us, even those who don’t have asthma. Let’s be safe and have his doctor follow him. We’ll take a chest X-ray to make sure we’re not missing anything and send you home with a copy on a disc.”

  “OK,” Jessie uttered.

  “I’m jumping ahead. Let’s get Danny more comfortable. I’ll be back in a little bit, and Teresa will be in here in a few minutes with his treatment.”

  Jack held out his hand and shook the doctor’s. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “Do I have to have a shot?” Danny asked from Jessie’s arms.

  “Not this time. Unless you want one,” Dr. Shields said with a hopeful expression, teasing the boy.

 

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