Unpredictable Love (9 page)

“
You want me to do it?”

“
Would you mind?” His voice was soft
and persuasive.

She plucked the machine from his hand. “I
don’t know how to use this thing.”

“
Don’t you shave your
legs?”

Embarrassment shut her mouth.

“
You don’t have to answer, but I
assume you do.”

“
I don’t use anything like
this.”

“
It’s easy. I’ll tell you what to
do.”

“
Okay. If you trust me.”

He laughed. “Do I have a choice?”

“
You’ll have to scoot over,” she said,
approaching the bed.

Trent hissed in pain as he inched to the
left. Once he stopped, he grimaced, locking his jaw. A tiny tear
slipped down the side of his face. He swiped at it.

“
Maybe I’d better come closer to you,”
she said.

He nodded.

She braced her hands on the mattress, easing
her bottom down gently until her hip touched his side. “Am I
hurting you?”

“
No.”

She opened the package, unwinding the cord.
It took several minutes to get set up. During that time, he told
her what to do, illustrating with his hands.

“
I usually use a regular razor and
cream. Haven’t used one of these since I was a kid. My dad gave me
an electric. So, this’ll be kinda new for me too.”

She turned on the machine. “You’ve gotta sit
real still now. No talking.”

“
How can I tell you what to
do?”

“
Hand signals.” The buzzing razor
vibrated a little in her hand. Trent lay very still against the
raised head of the bed. She took a second to stare at his fabulous
face. Strong jaw, lips just the right fullness, dark eyebrows to
match his hair. His nose was perfectly formed, just long enough and
not feminine. She ran her palm along his cheek. He made a small
pleasure sound, causing her to whip her hand away as if his skin
had been on fire.

“
Come on. Don’t get shy
now.”

“
No talking!” Tension coiled in her
shoulder muscles. She took a deep breath to steady slightly
trembling fingers. Jory placed the head of the cutting machine on
his jaw and moved it up his cheek, gently stretching the skin
underneath to get the shave close.

He made a thumb’s up gesture with his right
hand. His left gripped the side rail. Jory smiled. The razor
skimmed over the rough stubble on his chin. He drew his lip up, to
give her better access to the hair growing there. She followed with
her fingertips, to feel if she had gotten it all. The smooth
texture of his warm skin sent a thrill through her. He smelled of
soap, a pleasant scent.

Guiding the machine over the contours of his
face, she couldn’t ignore the sensations zinging through her body.
Her blood began to heat as she moved slowly over every inch of the
lower half. His breath caressed her. Touching him so intimately
sparked desire in her. She smoothed her hand over the shaved areas,
barely controlling a yearning to follow with her lips and
tongue.

His steady breathing came a little faster as
she continued. Pink shaded his cheeks, giving him a healthy glow.
She saved the trickiest part, his mustache, for last. He pulled his
top lip down while she zeroed in on the area. When she was done,
she blew out a breath then palmed the side of his face.

“
Just checking to make sure I got it
all,” she said, a little breathless.

He grabbed her hand and held it to his lips,
inches from hers. The color in his cheeks began to fade. “Now, you
slap me with some aftershave, and I groan at the sting.”

She remained close by his side. “Is that
right?”

“
There’s only one way to tell if the
shave is close enough,” he whispered.

“
What’s that?” She returned the razor
to the nightstand.

“
This.” He slipped his fingers around
her neck and pulled her closer, his thumb searching, finding her
lips. He outlined them before pressing his against them. Jory’s
pulse jumped at the feel and taste of him. He increased the
pressure, and she opened. His tongue was inside in a flash,
exploring slowly.

She had her long, chestnut hair pulled up
and fastened with a clip. Never losing his liplock, he reached
around behind her. He found the barrette and released it. The heavy
softness fell to her shoulders, where he combed it with his
fingers. She cupped his face.

He ran his thumb over the shell of her ear,
then down to her collarbone, past where her pulse beat wildly, like
a native drum. Worried he’d feel her reaction, she squirmed,
inching back, but kissing him was too sweet. She wanted more.

He finally released her, and, with uneven
breath, he whispered, “Let me touch you.”

Her brain screamed
no
, but her libido screamed
yes
. She was silent.

“
We’ve known each other for months. If
we’d been dating instead of corresponding, we’d have made love by
now,” he said, his lips barely touching hers.

She couldn’t argue with his logic.

“
Please, let me touch you.”

“
Okay.”

His hand was warm on her neck as he slid it
down, stopping first to fuss with the buttons of her blouse. She
quickly unfastened the top three. He smiled at her. “Thanks.” He
explored her shoulder with his palm, his thumb stroking under her
collarbone, as he slid his hand down over her breast.

He sucked in air as he closed his fingers
around the firm flesh encased in a bra. Snaking his arm around her
side to her back, he flipped open the hooks of her bra and dove
underneath to make skin-to-skin contact. This time, she was the one
who hissed.

Her breath hitched as fire flew straight to
her core.

“
You’re beautiful.”

“
How do you know?”

“
I can feel it.”

His thumb toyed with her nipple, flicking it
until it hardened. Then, he pinched it between his first two
fingers. Bandages prevented him lowering his head to taste her. He
cursed, then squeezed.

A loud “Ahem” from the doorway made the
lovers jump. Jory buttoned up her blouse in a second and a half.
Trent coughed.

“
Sorry to break this up, kids. But
visiting hours are over.”

Jory nodded. “Of course.”

Trent bent his good leg at the knee to hide
his response to their little petting session. “She was just giving
me a shave.”

“
Of course, she was,” Marie
replied.

“
Look. Feel,” he coaxed.

Marie bent down to see. “Hmm. Looks pretty
good.”

“
It was her first time.” He rubbed his
face.

“
The razor’s on the night table,” Jory
said.

“
I see. Not bad for a beginner. Saves
me having to do it. And it wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun,
either, would it, Staff Sergeant?” Marie put in.

Trent blushed deep red, making Jory laugh.
She shrugged her denim jacket on and stepped over to the bed.

“
Good night, Trent. Marie.”

“
You coming tomorrow?”

“
I am.”

“
Night, missy, see you then,” the
nurse tossed over her shoulder as she headed for the
door.

“
She’s amazing. She does so much. And
she’s always cheerful,” Jory remarked.

As Trent shifted to regain his former
position in the middle of the bed, a spasm of pain shot across his
face. Jory laid her palm on his cheek, brushed his lips with hers,
and then left.

When she got home, a plate of dinner was
wrapped and waiting for her. She filled a glass with water and
popped the dish in the microwave. As she sat eating the meatball
casserole, Nan sauntered in.

“
Have fun?”

“
Fun? I don’t go there to have
fun.”

“
Really?”

She shot a confused glance at her aunt.

“
Then how come your bra is unfastened,
chickie?” Nan laughed as she left the room.

“
I can’t stay long,” she said as she
walked in. “But let’s at least get through the next
chapter.”

“
Damn. A quickie?” He wiggled his
eyebrows.

“
Down, Casanova, no. I have an
interview.”

“
Tonight?”

“
Yep. Meeting an editor for
drinks.”

“
That’s all?”

“
Jealous?”

“
Damn right.”

“
Don’t be. He’s looking for a new
managing editor.”

“
I see. Where’s the job? Far from
here?”

“
Not too. Let’s get
started.”

After her chapter, she kissed Trent goodbye
and headed for her car. She’d been as disappointed as her Marine
that she couldn’t spend more time. She wanted to continue where
they’d left off, but it wasn’t to be.

As happy as she was, Jory realized she
needed an escape plan. Trent could get a cornea transplant any day.
She’d need to blow town. Move, get a new job, disappear. She’d come
to realize she couldn’t face him with the truth, couldn’t bear to
see the betrayal in his eyes. She’d done it, and now, she was
taking the coward’s way out. She didn’t care. It hurt too much to
even consider telling the truth.

She needed this opportunity. It was her only
solution. She’d already figured on renting a room in Oak Bend
instead of an apartment. That way, she’d have money to send home to
Nan and her sister. Amber wasn’t qualified for a better position
and had no hope of finding anything there. They needed Jory’s
financial contribution.

She’d gotten it all planned. Get the offer,
move to Oak Bend, and start over. So, maybe she’d be breaking
Trent’s heart. Maybe her own too. That’s life, those were the
breaks, and she was willing to live with the consequences of her
foolishness. As for Trent, hell, he’d get over her. After all, she
wasn’t the shiniest apple in the basket.

She met Jim Sparks at Rusty’s, a cocktail
lounge in the center of town. He looked to be in his early fifties,
salt and pepper hair, ten pounds overweight. He gave her a big
smile, which emphasized the wrinkles around his kind eyes.

Jory ordered a ginger ale—she was driving,
after all. Jim had a Manhattan.

“
Mac Caldwell speaks very highly of
you. I’ve been looking over your portfolio. Nothing worthy of a
Pulitzer yet, but you give good, thorough coverage to the
happenings in Pine Grove, and you do it with style and warmth.
Nothing worse than an editor who hates his or her town.”

She agreed. As they fell into easy
conversation, she relaxed. They chatted for an hour. Then, he paid
the tab, and they got up to leave.

“
I’ve got one more candidate to
interview, but I’d say you’re running at the head of the pack.
Don’t sell your house and buy a condo yet, but do start thinking
about moving to Oak Bend.”

“
I am. I mean, I have been. It’s a
lovely town. A lot bigger than Pine Grove. Bustling. Probably a lot
to write about here.”

“
That’s what we think. Thanks for
coming all this way. I’ll call you in a couple of weeks. No rush on
this. Our current managing editor isn’t leaving until the end of
the month.”

“
Thank you, Mr. Sparks. It was a
pleasure to meet you.”

She put her car in gear and headed for Route
55. A smile crossed her lips. As she drove, she listened to music.
Julian Lennon’s song, “Too Late for Goodbyes,” came on.

For a moment, an image of life with Trent
flashed through her brain. A small house, a dog, bird watching,
reading together, steamy nights in tangled sheets ran through her
mind like a music video. Was it too late for goodbye? She was
invested, all the way, in love, completely.

There was no way she could survive the
rejection sure to come when he got a look at her. Telling him the
truth was the right thing to do, but she didn’t have the guts for
it. That settled the dilemma. She let out a breath. If and when he
got his sight back, she’d skedaddle out of town, with no forwarding
address. And that would be the end of it. She refused to think
beyond that point. After all, until he got the transplant, they
could remain together.

When she got home, she pulled up Oak Bend
real estate on her computer and began her search for a place to
live. She admonished herself not to overthink the situation, simply
follow the plan she’d mapped out, and everything would be all
right.

When she turned out the light, she ignored
the war going on between her heart and her head. Eventually,
blessed sleep released her from reality.

* * * *

The next night, Trent was more animated than
usual. She detected the scent of soap, fresh in the air. His short
hair was combed. He was clean-shaven and wore a new hospital
gown.

“
Hi, Trent, it’s me,” Jory
said.

He shifted his position in bed. “Lock the
door. Marie said we could.”

Jory turned the latch and raised her
eyebrows as she sank down in a chair. “Did she? What’s she
expecting us to do?”

“
This.” He reached for her hand and
pulled her to him for a passionate kiss. “Unless you don’t want
to.”

“
Can you?” She blushed at her own
words. “I mean…”

“
I know what you mean. That’s the only
part of me not injured.” He grinned.