Cocktails & Dreams (11 page)

By the time Conor got back from driving the girls home, Nick had cleaned the apartment, aside from the bathroom. Conor laughed when Nick tossed him the Comet and gestured to the open door, but he finished the job quickly and they settled down to watch a game. Well, Conor watched anyway. Nick’s mind was miles away, first in the physical therapy room at UC Davis, and then in an apartment he had yet to see.

All day, Nick had hoped that Jena would call. He didn’t want to disturb her at work, and by the time he judged she would be heading home, Jena wasn’t answering her phone. Nick couldn’t get their last conversation out of his mind, and he wondered if she really believed that he wanted to get to know her better, too. She had looked so vulnerable when she said she wanted to be able to feel good about herself when she woke up. Did she feel bad
now?
Nicholas hoped not and could have kicked his own ass for not having asked her that earlier.

“Need anything from the kitchen?” Nick rose from the couch, trying to be casual, and planning to call Jena again when he was out of the living room.

“Sure. I’ll take a beer.” Conor stretched in the recliner. “Oh, and say hi to Jena from me.” He grinned.

Busted.

“I will if she answers.” Nicholas felt his face redden and quickly left the room. No answer again, damn it.

He tossed Conor a beer and flopped on the couch.

“No answer?” Conor asked. Nick shook his head. “I wouldn’t worry about it. She probably needs some time to adjust to whatever happened last night.” He raised his eyebrow questioningly, and Nicholas rolled his eyes. Conor smirked. “Nothin’, huh?”

“I wouldn’t say
nothing
.” Nick smiled, remembering. “But we’ve decided to get to know each other better before…you know.”

Conor snorted. “‘You know’? What, are you a fuckin’ girl now? You mean, before you have wild, animal sex? I thought that bridge was already crossed, man.”

Nicholas shrugged.

“You did ask her about New Year’s, didn’t you?”

“Sort of. But I didn’t get a real answer, because Travis called her out to go to work.”

Conor laughed. “Shit, you
are
a girl! ‘Sort of’? How do you ‘sort of’ ask someone if you fucked spectacularly numerous times in a five- or six- hour period? And good luck stopping now. In my opinion, you can’t put that Cheez Whiz back in the can.”

He ducked, laughing, as Nick side armed a couch pillow at his head, and they settled in to watch TV until Conor fell asleep in his recliner and Nick wandered to his own room.

He spent that night tossing and turning, unable to clear the memories of the way Jena felt and sounded and tasted out of his head. Finally dropping off as the sun was rising, Nick found himself tormented by dreams where Jena and the Angel were one and the same until he awoke frustrated and lonely in the early afternoon. Deciding to let things lie until Jena was ready to talk, Nick spent the day doing laundry and generally avoiding Conor, who snickered every time he was near Nicholas. Apparently, Nick had been a little loud while he’d been dreaming again.

By Monday, when Conor dropped him off at the medical center with a promise to return in an hour, Nick felt like charging into the therapy room. Even if Jena wasn’t there, maybe Travis would have some clue about how she was and how Nick could get her to talk to him.

Looking around quickly when he got into the therapy room, Nicholas was relieved to see Jena. She looked good, calm and confident as she instructed some guy through a series of exercises, correcting his movements with a touch or a word. She finally seemed to feel Nicholas staring and looked up, smiling hesitantly when he waved.

Travis clapped Nick on the good shoulder as he led him to the massage table, then through his regular series of machines, shaking his head as he had to repeatedly ask for Nick’s attention. Finally, he gave up.

“Okay, enough for today. I’m going to recommend to Dr. Call that you lose the sling if his follow-up X-rays and MRI back me up. You’re healing remarkably well, and your range of motion seems to be almost back to normal. Should I ask Jena, just to be sure?”

Nick whipped his head around to see Travis grinning as he wrote on the chart.

Nicholas flushed. “About that, Travis, I—”

Travis held up his hand. “Nope. None of my business. But talk to Jen, okay? She’s feeling a little…down, I guess. If you tell her I said this, I will kill you, but I think she’s worried about what you’re thinking of her.” Travis’s face was uncharacteristically serious as he waved goodbye and walked toward the office.

Nicholas leaned against the last machine he’d worked on, watching Jena get the big guy set up on a treadmill before turning to the chart on the table. Something the guy said made her laugh, and she got on the treadmill next to his, joking and smiling as she finished his last few minutes with him.

Nicholas was surprised at how jealous seeing that made him. He wanted Jena to be laughing with
him,
not some muscle-bound joker.

When the patient’s time was up, he stopped the machine and gently took Jena’s hand, pressing a kiss on the back. Nick felt an irrational urge to shove the guy, but by the time he’d halfway crossed the room, the patient was headed out the door.

Jena immediately raised the speed of her treadmill and went to work in earnest, taking the earphones to the iPod that was strapped on her arm out of her pocket and jamming them in her ears.

Moving closer, Nicholas leaned on the adjacent treadmill, watching her. Jena’s eyes were closed, and her lips barely moved as she sang quietly along with the music.

Finally, she slowed, and then stopped, smiling in a satisfied way as she checked her time and distance and pulled up the tail of her shirt to wipe the sweat off of her neck. Nick opened the gym bag he was carrying and pushed a towel into her hands, not sure that he could trust himself if she raised the shirt again.

“Holy shit!” Jena shrieked, jumping back and nearly tumbling off the treadmill as her eyes flew open. “Nicholas! How long have you been there?” She took the towel and quickly wiped her face and neck, looking anywhere but at him.

“A few minutes. Long enough to see you flirting with the musclehead,” Nicholas teased.

“Who, Stefan?” Jena laughed and placed the towel on the handrail. “No flirting, I assure you. His girlfriend would kill me. And he’s not a musclehead. He may play football, but he’s also a chemical engineering major with perfect grades.”

“Yeah, make me feel insignificant beside your rocket scientist boyfriend.” Nicholas nabbed the iPod. “What are you listening to? Since we’re getting to know each other better.”

She grabbed unsuccessfully for the player.

Nick raised an eyebrow and grinned as a Prince bump and grind number traveled from the earbud.

Jena’s face turned red and then she started to laugh, shrugging. “There’s a lot of music on there that’s not sex related.”

“I disagree,” Nick countered. “All music is sex related. How to get it, how it feels, what happens when it’s wrong, how it feels to lose it, how to get rid of bad lovers…all sex.” He scrolled to the next song. “Except this guy. Who in their right mind would put Josh Groban between Prince and Nine Inch Nails?”

Jena snatched her iPod out of his hand, laughing. “My music, idiot. No one said you had to like it.”

Nick took her free hand and was relieved when she didn’t resist. “Nope. But I want to know you, Jena. And now I know that you’ve got the strangest taste in music
ever.”
He pretended to flinch as Jena playfully raised her other hand. “Give me a chance, okay? I want this, Jena. I want you. Not just your body.
You.
”

Jena nodded slowly; she still looked unsure.

“Let’s go out on an actual date, okay? When are you free this week?” Nicholas scanned his own schedule in his mind, realized ruefully that he had a busy week ahead.

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.”

“J
ENA
, A
RE
Y
OU
S
URE
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 see 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—”