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Authors: Leslie Kelly

Slow Hands (17 page)

BOOK: Slow Hands
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Ah, now he understood the amusement. He’d used the exact terms when seeking her out at the bank.

“You’ll do it?”

He should have expected this, he really should have. If Maddy was genuinely changing, letting her heart open up, she had to be scared to death. The first thing she’d do is try to get things back under control, protect herself, just in case. Personally, he believed they’d gone too far for her to do it—that genie was out of the bottle. She could not stop smiling at him, exchanging warm looks and sexy conversations any more than he could.

But she could remind them both of why they’d gotten into this. And that was exactly what she was doing.

“Jake?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered.

“You promise?”

“All right, yes, I promise,” he agreed, knowing that no, he could not tell her the truth yet. Not while she still felt the need to make sure she had an easy way out at the end of their month together, just in case.

Besides, she’d certainly made no comments about them sticking together beyond that. She hadn’t verbally expressed any genuine feelings for him at all. Which meant she might not quite be ready to continue what they were doing without the stupid “arrangement” giving her the protection something deep in her psyche required her to have.

It appeared that while it might be good for the soul, confession might
not
yet be good for his relationship with the woman he was falling in love with.

So his mouth would stay shut. Even if his heart was wide-open.

10

T
HIS LAST WEEK
before Tabitha’s wedding was shaping up to be a crazy one and by Tuesday afternoon, Maddy was already completely exhausted. Not only because she’d had two long, glorious—and sleepless—nights in Jake’s arms, but also because of the typical prewedding hysteria every family experienced.

Tabby was a mess. The bride had been worrying herself into a frenzy about the weather, the caterer, the vows, the rings. She’d second-guessed the brand of champagne, argued with the wedding planner and was stewing over her honeymoon trousseau. Not to mention, she was starving herself to fit into her size two dress.

Maddy had worn a size two once. When she
was
two.

Still, she didn’t envy her sister one bit right now, and wouldn’t change places with her for the world. Except, perhaps for one thing.

She did wonder what it might be like to be loved so deeply by a man.

Her sister’s fiancé must love Tabby madly. It was the only explanation for why he’d put up with the antics of someone so totally unlike himself. Why he’d be drawn to his complete opposite. Love like that sounded
so
nice.

Who was she kidding? Being loved like that by a wonderful man sounded utterly amazing. Especially if the man was Jake.

Stupid
. She had no business thinking that way, but the fantasies kept creeping up on her at the oddest times. Especially after she gave in and finally allowed herself to admit—after their conversation in the car Sunday night—that she
had
changed, as he’d pointed out. He simply didn’t realize how
much
she’d changed.

She’d fallen in love with him. Against all her own cautionary advice and better judgment, her walls had dropped and her heart had filled.

While a big part of her wanted to tell him, another part—the sensible part—had known she couldn’t. Not until their deal was finished, their thirty days up. After that, if Jake stayed, it would be for personal reasons only. She couldn’t use her feelings to pressure him in any way.

And that was why she’d demanded that he cash that stupid check. They had to keep their arrangement, if only to make sure that whatever happened afterward, happened because he felt as deeply for her as she did for him.

“In love,” she whispered under her breath Tuesday afternoon, after daydreaming her way through an executive meeting led by her father.

The ice queen had completely melted for a gigolo. Wouldn’t the tabloids adore that.

“What did you say?” her father asked, obviously hearing her words, since only the two of them remained. The meeting had wrapped up a few minutes ago.

“Oh, nothing,” she said. “Just thinking about the wedding.”

“Of course, who isn’t?”

Their father had been preening in his role of father of the bride, while also going over every detail with his keen businessman’s eye…as well as inviting anyone he felt like asking. He had, in fact, extended two verbal invitations this very day.

“You know, Tabby’s going to kill you. If those two California businessmen come this weekend, you’re going to throw off her seating plans.”

Her father frowned, thought about it, then winked. “I’ll blame Deborah.”

Their father was no dummy. He had absolutely no illusions about how his oldest daughter felt about his young wife. Yet he still managed to keep his sense of humor about it.

Tabby was right. He really did seem happy. So maybe he did genuinely love the woman.

Good grief, she must be turning into a complete mush-bag believing in all this true love involving
her
family.

“Do you really think our girl’s going to be happy with that stick-in-the-mud Bradley?” her father asked, putting words to a question Maddy had considered a few times herself.

“She seems to be. She says he calms her.”

Her father shrugged, not appearing convinced. “Calms her…or bores her?” Then he frowned. “I have heard rumors that he’s a very rigid, strict man.”

Knowing her sister, he would not stay that way for long. “It’ll be fine. Besides, you know Tabby. She has no problem calling something off if it’s not going to work out. And she’s determined to go through with it.”

He sighed, obviously remembering the money he’d paid for past engagements…and one lavish wedding. “So far.” The way he glanced at the documents in his hands did not disguise his overly innocent tone when he asked, “And what about you, sweetheart? Is that handsome, dark-haired fellow escorting you?”

“Dad…”

“You can’t blame me for being curious. He seems like a good sort.”

“He is a good sort,” she admitted, hearing a completely unfamiliar soft, mushy tone in her own voice. “In fact, he’s wonderful.”

Her father dropped his papers, reached for her and gave Maddy a quick hug, kissing her temple. “I can’t tell you how thrilled I am to hear you say that.” His eyes were suspiciously moist when he pulled away. “I want you to be happy, Madeline. And I’m
thrilled
to see you giving someone else a chance after what that vile bastard Oliver did.”

One way to get her father riled up and send his blood pressure through the roof was to talk about her ex. “Forget him Dad, he’s
nothing
. And yes, Jake is escorting me this weekend.” Though she didn’t want to get her father’s hopes up about Maddy actually being involved in a real relationship—given Jake’s profession—she did like seeing the shadow of worry disappear from his eyes. “I think you’ll like him.”

“I think I already do,” he murmured, touching her cheek with sweet tenderness. “He brought that beautiful smile back to your face and the warm sparkle in your eyes. I’ve missed seeing them in the past eighteen months.” He stared at her for a moment, as if memorizing her features, though he’d seen her nearly every day for her entire twenty-eight years. “You are so lovely, my dear,” he mumbled, that moisture appearing in his eyes again.

Her father was behaving in a most un-Jason-Turner-like fashion today. Loving he may be—maudlin and sentimental he was not. This upcoming wedding must have really gotten him thinking, and worrying, about Maddy’s single state.

“Love you, Dad.”

“I love you, too.” And as quickly as his odd mood had come over him, he shook it off and pointed an index finger at her. “Now, don’t forget this evening. You know I’m counting on you to keep the peace.”

Her usual role in the family.

“I won’t forget,” she murmured, wishing she
could.

Her father had insisted on one last “family” dinner before things got too crazy. Which meant she’d be seeing her stepmother, the only person who did
not
seem to be going insane with wedding preparations, or to even be involved with them at all.

The woman had been avoiding her—and Tabitha, too—as if they both carried the Ebola virus. Maddy suspected she was too embarrassed to face her stepdaughters, having to know that they were both fully aware of why she’d been at that auction.

Tonight, though, Deborah could no longer escape. Neither, unfortunately, could Maddy or her sister.

Absolutely the only good thing about the evening, in Maddy’s opinion, was that she would have the chance to warn her stepmother about who her escort would be, both at the rehearsal dinner and the wedding.

She didn’t merely want to avoid any embarrassing moments that her father might pick up on. She also didn’t want Jake subjected to any whispered come-ons. Frankly, the way she was feeling, if her stepmother made a move on the man Maddy had come to consider hers, she’d rip the woman’s hair out by its platinum blond roots.

So much for the ice queen.

 

H
AVING TO PICK UP
some extra shifts to make up for the time off he’d need to escort Maddy both to tonight’s rehearsal dinner and tomorrow afternoon’s wedding, Jake found himself missing her like crazy after only the few days they’d spent apart. It was as if she was a drug to which he’d become completely addicted. And honestly, he’d never felt like that about anyone before in his life.

“You’re losing it, man,” he muttered that morning as he filled out some paperwork for a patient he and his partner had just brought in to the hospital. “Absolutely losing it.”

And damn, didn’t it feel fine. As long as, sooner or later, Maddy “lost it,” too.

Seventy-two hours. That was far too long. He hadn’t seen her since Tuesday morning, when she’d taken him back to his truck. It had been parked outside the same restaurant where they’d
tried
to dine Sunday night—before Jenny’s interruption. They’d rescheduled for Monday, and had actually managed to complete an entire date. A
great
one, filled with laughter and good food, and more of that flirtatious banter Maddy seemed to want to try out—and was getting very good at. She was so adorably sexy to watch as she let her inhibitions fall away, one by one.

Speaking of sexy, that bridesmaid dress…Whew! While it had definitely lived up to all his heated expectations, he’d found himself dreading her actually wearing it to the wedding. He wasn’t sure he was ready for the way other men were going to look at her, whether she believed that or not. The last thing he wanted to do was go off on a jealous rant in the middle of the fancy yacht club reception because some rich dickhead high on one-too-many glasses of champagne looked at her the wrong way.

She can take care of herself
, he forced himself to acknowledge, remembering the drunk at the ball game.

“You finished?” the admitting nurse asked, interrupting his heated musings. Jeez, it wasn’t often he got distracted from his job, especially with a case as serious as this one.

Maybe it was
because
this case was such a serious one. And because of the way the victim’s wife had looked when she’d arrived here a few minutes ago.

Utterly and completely terrified.

Madeline Turner might not have seen a lot of true love in her lifetime, but oh, God, did it exist. Jake saw it every day—saw the anguish and the heartbreak that came with the thought of losing someone who was so deeply loved that their partner couldn’t imagine life going on without them. Like the wife from this morning.

“Yeah, I’m done,” he muttered. “Hope the guy makes it.”

The patient he and his partner, Raoul, had brought in was a shooting victim, injured in an apparent home invasion. He’d been found unconscious on the floor of his own house. A neighbor had heard the shots and called 911. Jake and Raoul had arrived right behind the police and Jake’s hands had been the first on the wounded man’s bloody chest.

“I think he will.”

Good. The guy was middle-aged, had a nice home and a loving wife who’d apparently just left for work when it had happened. He deserved a hell of a lot better than to die for opening his front door to the wrong stranger.

Though they needed to get back to the station, he and Raoul stuck around, both to keep an eye on the man’s condition and because they’d already been told they’d probably have to give a statement to the police. This suspect was apparently one nasty character and the cops wanted him bad.

Raoul had gone to secure the truck and to radio the station that they were going to stay for a few minutes. Grabbing himself a cup of coffee from the lounge, Jake hung around the E.R. information desk, watching the clock, hoping the team of detectives showed up soon. There were EMTs back at the station, but he was the only actual paramedic on today.

Finally, a stocky, solid woman with short, iron-gray hair and a no-nonsense attitude approached him. “You Wallace?”

“I am.”

“Detective Harriet Stiles.” She flashed a badge. “My partner spotted yours out in the truck and he’s taking his statement.”

She began asking questions, routine stuff. Jake only wished he could actually be of some help. He spoke clearly and concisely, telling what little he knew, since he hadn’t seen the assailant, just the victim lying on the floor.

When he finished, Detective Stiles nodded and snapped her notebook closed.

“All done?” a man’s voice asked the officer.

Jake glanced up and saw that a dark-haired guy, solidly built, a few inches shorter than him, had joined them.

“Looks like it. You?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Mr. Wallace, this is my partner, Detective Santori,” the first officer told Jake.

“Good to meet you. Huh…Santori. That name is familiar.”

The other man laughed softly. “There are a
lot
of us.”

Jake suddenly remembered how he knew the name. The woman from the charity—the one who’d tried to help him track down Madeline. She’d been named Santori.

“I met a woman—Nicole Santori, maybe? It was at a charity auction a few weeks ago.”

The other man stiffened, his jaw jutting out the tiniest bit. “Are you talking about my
wife,
Noelle? She founded the Give A Kid A Christmas program.”

Suddenly realizing why the other man had tensed—since the wife had, he recalled, been very pretty—Jake put both hands up, in a universal no-harm, no-foul gesture. “Hey, no offense. I was only asking because I wanted to try to get a message to her. There was a major printing mix-up that night with the program.”

BOOK: Slow Hands
12.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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