Not That Kind of Girl (14 page)

Roxie stared up at him and smiled pleasantly, just the way he wanted it. She was so pissed that the effort it took to smile actually hurt the muscles around her mouth.

Eli’s face showed nothing. It was smooth and serene and handsome. “I know this is hard for you,” he said. She felt his fingers brush along the side of her face.

“Don’t do that.”

Eli frowned slightly, then he looked away. It was the first time today she’d seen him less than completely in charge. Eli shook his head quickly, as if to clear his thoughts, then returned his gaze to hers. His soft green eyes were filled with emotion.

“We’re dealing with three separate challenges here today,” Eli whispered.

“I don’t want to hear about any of them.”

“And only one is about your dog.”

“You need to go.”

“It’s important that we keep them separate, Roxanne. I am a dog whisperer here to help you and Lilith, but I’m also a man who’s being thrown off his game because he’s so damn attracted to you.” Eli paused, searching her face.

Roxie couldn’t move. She could barely breathe.

“All I’m saying is it’s going to be a trick to keep everything separate.”

Roxie took a step back.

Eli took a step closer. Their faces were inches apart.

“I came here to introduce Lilith to the concept that she’s not in charge in this house. She’s struggling, but she’s starting to get it. With every line I cross I erode some of her control, and this is the first lesson she has to learn—that she is not the pack leader anymore.”

Roxanne looked away from his gorgeous male face and shut her eyes. She longed to stick her fingers in her ears like a petulant little kid, just to block out the liquid heat of his voice. She couldn’t stand that voice anymore.

“I know it’s hard to watch, but it is not hurting Lilith. She is very stubborn, but she’ll be immensely relieved once she settles into her new place. She will be a much happier dog.”

She shook her head.

“Roxie, please listen to me. The reason Lilith has resorted to aggression is because she’s convinced you aren’t qualified to be the boss. Your energy is so unstable and full of anger that she doesn’t trust you to take care of the pack. She thinks she has to do it.”

“That’s enough.” Roxie’s knees were beginning to feel wobbly.

“You say you want her to feel safe, right? Well, the only way she’s ever going to feel safe is if you give her a reason to.”

“I want you to leave.” Her legs began to shake.

“The second thing happening here is
your
reaction to me being in your home, your safe haven, telling you all kinds of shit you don’t want to hear. I am well aware that you hate having a man here as a matter of principle. I know it feels like an invasion.” He ran a feather-light finger down her hair.

“If you don’t get out of here, I’m calling the police.”

Eli’s voice never wavered. “The third thing that’s going on is something completely unrelated—the force that is drawing us together. I know you feel it. I’ve never felt anything like it in my life, and I’m a man who makes his living picking up on energy from humans and animals. It’s … well, honestly, it’s a little intimidating. It’s almost as if it’s coming from somewhere outside of the two of us.”

Roxanne had been trying not to hear a single word out of this man’s mouth. Yet, again, because of that deep-river lullaby of a voice, she couldn’t help but listen.

And everything he’d said was spot on. It made her want to scream.

“Please, Roxie,” Eli said, his hand traveling down to cup her chin. He lifted it so she had no choice but to look at him.

“There’s got to be another way,” she said. “This is too much.”

“There is no other way,” he said.

“But I saw a cable TV ad for an electric shock collar that works wonders. It comes with a money-back guarantee.”

Eli nodded, as if giving it some serious thought. “It’s going to sting your neck pretty bad, but we could give it a try, I suppose.” He smiled.

“Funny,” Roxie said, rolling her eyes. She was losing this fight. She could feel it. Something was breaking apart inside her, and it was so incredibly scary. She’d felt this very same sensation before—at the paddock the day of the baby shower, when Eli had grabbed her and kissed the hell out of her. She’d busted out sobbing then, and she absolutely refused to give a repeat performance.

Why did Eli Gallagher affect her this way? It seemed if she let her guard down for an instant, she was toast. He just pushed the rest of the way through, right into the core of her.

Roxie swallowed hard, suddenly recalling the deal she’d made with Gloria Needleman.
“… leave the door to your heart open just a crack, my dear girl …”

“Roxie, can we acknowledge the attraction we feel for each other?”

“… this man will be different. He’ll be strong enough to pry open the door of your heart and brave enough to love everything he finds inside.”

Eli put his hands on her shoulders. “Can we accept it as a fact, and see where it takes us? There has to be a reason it’s so strong.”

Roxanne focused her eyes right on Eli’s. She tried to make sense of all the emotion roaring through her, and this was the one thing she knew: if it weren’t for Raymond Sandberg, she’d find Eli’s offer irresistible. If Raymond hadn’t scooped out the last bit of trust she had left inside her, she’d have gone for it.

“You said you were tired of the fight, Roxie,” Eli whispered, his eyes clear and true. “You said you wanted to get rid of all the bad stuff so there’s room for peace. For happiness.”

“I was talking about Lilith.”

“I don’t think so.”

Roxie sighed, long and deep. She felt so overwhelmed, she needed to sit down. The floor would be fine. But just then, Eli opened his arms to her, and she fell against him. He didn’t do anything—no ass-grabbing or boob-tweaking or sticking his tongue down her throat. There was nothing but the heat and comfort of his strong body against hers. Once again, it felt as if she were being filled, as if she’d pulled up to the pump and had selected the ultra-premium grade of calm. It was as if Eli could transfer some of his own rock-solid peace through physical contact. It was an awesome feeling.

“I don’t understand any of this,” she said, her voice muffled by the cotton of his shirt. “This is way over my head, Eli.”

He laughed. She clutched at him, then closed her eyes and reveled in the rocking motion of his chest. For that instant, Roxanne felt completely safe. She felt completely loved.

Perhaps for the first time in her life.

Then she heard a loud thud as Lilith collapsed right next to her foot. The dog let out a very dramatic and deep sigh of submission. Roxie smiled to herself because the outburst sounded awfully familiar.

“She just reached another level of surrender,” Eli said, his hand gently stroking along the length of Roxie’s hair. “Let’s love her up some.”

Roxie pulled away from Eli and smiled at him.

“Remember,” Eli added. “With some practice, you’ll take over and she’ll make the same transition with you. It’s just this first part that’s the real bitch.”

Roxie raised her lips to his. Eli met her mouth and offered her the sanctuary she so desperately wanted, delivered with a sweet gentleness. Somehow, he knew exactly what kind of kiss she needed.

And why wouldn’t he? He knew everything else about her, it seemed.

The two separated from their embrace and knelt down to the dog’s level. Roxie let Eli touch Lilith first, watching as he rubbed her ears. Next, Eli murmured a stream of reassuring words in his laid-back baritone.

“Such a good girl. What a good dog you are, Lilith. We knew you could do it.”

Apparently, his voice affected Lilith the same way it did Roxie. She watched her dog roll over on her back and bare her white belly, her ears flopping back on the rug over her head. Eli stroked her short, coarse fur and continued to speak to her. “You’re a fine dog. You’re the best dog ever.”

Her tail began to wag.

Roxie put her hand on Lilith’s belly and stroked in rhythm with Eli. “That’s my Lily Girl,” she said, her voice calm and soft. “What a good dog.”

Eli placed his hand over hers. The rubbing stopped. Lilith rolled back over, paws in front, panting happily, tail wagging.

Eli took Roxie by the hand and pulled her to a stand. His face looked relaxed and kind. He placed a delicate kiss on her forehead, then nuzzled her neck.

“Okay, Ms. Bloom.
Now
it’s time for bed,” he said.

*   *   *

Gloria waited until the girls were gone and the door had fully closed. Then she waited a few more minutes, just to be sure they’d made it all the way down the hall. When she was certain the coast was clear, she allowed herself to cry.

Life was such a glorious mystery. Lately, when her thoughts would wander—and that was happening a lot—she’d picture the passing of time as a kind of poem, a poem that looped around and repeated itself in places, yet always charged ahead toward the inevitable end. And when it was over, love was the only thing that remained.

She reached for the tissue box on the rolling cart at her bedside, startled by the sight of the plastic tubing jabbed into a big blue vein on the top of her knobby hand. That same hand had once been soft and graceful. It seemed like yesterday. Where had the time gone?

She would never forget the moment she first laid eyes on him. Ira Needleman was nothing to write home about in the physique department, that was for sure, but that face! Those eyes! That head of dark and thick curls!
Oy!
Right there on the train platform, in a sea of people, he’d stood out like the Northern Star to Gloria, the clearest, brightest burst of energy she’d ever experienced. It was like he’d plugged into her. She hummed with his essence.

Then she lost him in the crowd. The girlfriend she’d come to meet tapped her on the shoulder and he was gone.

Two weeks later, she saw him again, this time at a second cousin’s bar mitzvah. As it turned out, Ira Needleman was the nephew of a friend of her grandmother’s. A loose association to be sure, and it was many years later that Gloria was told the sole reason Ira had been invited was to meet
her
. Her grandmother was always doing things like that. That’s where Gloria got the gift.

She blew her nose. She took a sip of the metallic-tasting water from a paper cup at her bedside. She hated it here. She’d had a very good life. A blessed life. She missed Ira. And that was why she had no intention of hanging around this joint any longer than she absolutely had to. Frankly, she couldn’t decide which would be worse—a hospital room, a nursing home, or living with Rachel! Oh, her eldest was a mensch, a real sweetheart. But she didn’t want to live by Rachel’s rules. She didn’t want to be a burden. What kind of life was that?

Gloria cried. Then she cried some more. Then she stopped crying and wadded up her tissues and hid them under the blankets. Rachel and Bea would make such a fuss if they knew.

She stared at the ceiling panels, thinking that up until quite recently, she’d been baffled by how her children had turned out. They were wonderful children, good people. Two doctors, a lawyer, and a college professor—what more could a mother ask for? But none of them had the gift, and as far as she could tell, none of their children had it, either. Oh, how Gloria had prayed that Rachel would show a knack for it one day, but Rachel was in her fifties now. If there were going to be a knack it surely would have surfaced by now.

Then Gloria met the girls—Josie, Ginger, Roxanne, and Bea—and the four young ladies had brought such adventure to the last year of her life. Now two babies were on the way! If that wasn’t proof of the power of love, she didn’t know what was. With a nod, Gloria promised herself that no matter how challenging hanging on might get, she’d stick around to see those babies born. No question about it.

She remembered how Josie had been the first to need Gloria’s help, with her funny spirit and her cute freckled nose. And Josie had led her to Ginger, always so glamorous, even in her maternity smock. Nothing had eased the pain of losing Ira like joining their circle of female friends. The day Josie walked in her front door with her reporter’s notebook to write about Ira’s passing—that was no coincidence.

Neither was meeting Bea. Dear, kindhearted, no-nonsense, solitary Beatrice Latimer. She might think her only gift was for teaching dogs to run through sewer pipes or whatever nonsense she did these days, but Gloria knew better. Bea hadn’t even acknowledged her real gift yet. And that was another piece of unfinished business Gloria needed to stick around for. She had to explain to Bea that in addition to reveling in the light of her eldest daughter’s love—with Gloria’s full blessing—Bea would be taking over the family business. Knowing that gave Gloria a sense of peace.

And then there was Roxanne Bloom.

Gloria rolled her eyes. She’d never seen such a difficult case. What a
meshugeneh
! Through the years she’d worked with plenty of angry women. Of course she had. And a few of them had harbored bitterness toward men in particular. That was the way of the world. But never—
ever
—had she known a woman as twisted up with hostility as Roxanne.

Rage had become the girl’s all-purpose approach to life. It was the excuse she used for shutting herself off from the world. It was her livelihood. It was her religion.

Gloria had known it would take someone very special to break through all that. Then Eli Gallagher had shown up as a guest at Josie and Rick’s wedding. He was so good-looking Gloria had to blink a few times. And the man radiated a pure and forceful energy that nearly knocked her over.

Never had Gloria been so sure about putting two people together. When Eli and Roxanne had looked each other at that wedding, Gloria had wanted to stop the proceedings and ask if anyone else felt the earth shift. But just because it was meant to be didn’t mean it
would
be.

Roxanne might very well blow it. If something spooked her—if anything spooked her—she could close up and never let Eli in again. And Eli was the kind of man who needed an invitation. Though his spirit was powerful, he was no brute. He would never simply kick in the girl’s door, the way that perverted old lawyer had. Roxanne would have to welcome Eli in.