For Better or For Worse Read online

  “Hello, Alex. Hello, Jenny.” Plato squawked and frantically flapped his wings as if he were trying to get out of the cage.

  She groaned. “I’d forgotten about him.”

  “Plato, shut up.”

  Jenny chuckled. She’d never once heard Alex get impatient with the obnoxious macaw.

  He looked at her, and his annoyed expression softened. “What’s so funny?”

  “Shut up, Alex.”

  “Excuse me, please.” Alex got off the couch and headed for the cage.

  “Hello, Alex.”

  “Good night, Plato.” He threw the covering over the squawking bird.

  Jenny started to laugh but cut herself short when Alex turned to come back to the sofa. His opened shirt and exposed chest made her insides flutter. God, he was beautiful. No spare flesh anywhere. Perfect muscle tone.

  She swallowed as he sat beside her, his heated gaze going to her breasts. “Maybe we should stop tormenting Plato and go to my bedroom.”

  His gaze slowly rose to study her face. “We could,” he said hesitantly. “But then we might be asking for more trouble than we’re willing to tackle.” He trailed the back of his fingers down her cheek.

  She didn’t want to push or make the situation uncomfortable, but she was tired of holding back. Especially since she’d been getting the feeling all week that he felt the same way. “Are you speaking for me or yourself?”

  “Your skin...I’ve irritated it with my beard.” He soothed the edges of her lips with light feathery strokes, then lowered his hand to her breasts.

  The skin was red there, too, but she hadn’t felt any discomfort. He palmed the weight of her breast then dipped his head to lave the abused area with his tongue.

  She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. He could talk in circles all he wanted, but they’d end up in bed. She was sure of it. The only thing that bothered her was Alex seeing the scar. It was in the most horrid place at the top of her fanny. Not only was it ugly, but the sight of it would probably discourage him from becoming intimate for fear he’d hurt her.

  “Ah, Alex, that feels so good.” She slid her hand down his chest, over his flat belly to his belt buckle.

  He didn’t react when she tried to tug the belt free, and when the buckle wouldn’t budge, she lowered her hand to cup his hardness. He filled her palm with heat, and her pulse leaped in anticipation.

  “Jenny.” Her name came out a hoarse whisper, his breath warm and ragged against her breast.

  “Alex, please let’s go to the bedroom. I want to make love with—”

  A loud rap at the kitchen door startled them both.

  “Are you expecting anyone?” he asked.

  She shook her head, struggling to pull up her bra straps.

  “Do we have to answer?”

  Another loud knock. “Yoo-hoo! Where is everyone? I have something for you.” Phyllis Cooper’s undeniably high-pitched voice came from the kitchen. The door had been unlocked, and she’d obviously let herself in.

  They scrambled like guilty teenagers. Jenny clasped her bra, grabbed her T-shirt and pulled it over her head, except the hem rolled up and got caught just under her breasts.

  Alex fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.

  “Yoo-hoo! Alex? Jenny?” Her voice got closer.

  Alex jumped to his feet and waved Jenny to stay put. “Coming, Phyllis.”

  “Oh, I didn’t think anyone was home. I was about to leave your dinner on the counter.” She appeared at the entryway to the living room, a large foil-wrapped casserole dish in her hands.

  Fortunately Jenny had pulled herself together already. She glanced at Alex. One of the buttons on his shirt was in the wrong hole, causing the untucked shirt to gape, a detail that wasn’t missed by Phyllis.

  Her eyes widened. “Am I interrupting something?”

  “Of course not.” Jenny patted her hair, only too aware what a mess it was.

  Alex didn’t respond, unless she counted the annoyed look on his face.

  “I didn’t find out until yesterday that you two were back from New York. Been back almost a week, Maureen told me.” Phyllis’s anxious gaze kept going to Alex. “I feel terrible I didn’t come by with dinner sooner.”

  Jenny struggled to her feet.

  “Now, don’t go getting up on my account.” Phyllis waved her to sit down. “I’ll just leave this casserole and be on my way.”

  “You came all this way. Have a cup of coffee first.” Jenny looked at Alex, assuming he’d reiterate the offer, but he said nothing.

  Phyllis didn’t seem to notice. “Well, I am a little parched.”

  Using her cane, Jenny limped toward her. “Come on. I usually make a pot around this time.” She sniffed the air as she got closer. “That smells delicious. How sweet of you to think of us.”

  “It’s nothing, really. Just a chicken and dressing casserole I whipped up. You’ve had it, Alex, at the Andersons’ potluck last fall, remember?”

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  At his less than enthusiastic tone, Jenny gave him the eye.

  “Thanks,” he added. “You really shouldn’t have.”

  Jenny pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at the serious way he said that. Fortunately, again, Phyllis didn’t seem to notice his disgruntled tone.

  “Would you mind putting the dish on the counter?” Jenny asked as she slowly made her way to the kitchen.

  “Of course I will.” Phyllis hurried in front of her.

  Jenny took the opportunity to whisper to Alex, “Quit scowling.”

  “Why did you ask her to stay?” he whispered.

  “Shh! She’ll hear you.”

  “Tough,” he muttered.

  Jenny giggled. This was so unlike Alex. It pleased her no end to see how truly annoyed he was that they’d been interrupted.

  “This needs to be zapped in the microwave for only a few minutes whenever you’re ready to eat,” Phyllis said from the kitchen, oblivious to their private mutterings.

  Jenny entered the kitchen and immediately went to the coffeepot.

  “Oh, you shouldn’t be walking around. Sit. I’ll make the coffee.” Phyllis didn’t give her a chance to protest. The older woman snatched the basket of old coffee grounds, dumped them and put the basket under running water to rinse while she took off the plastic lid to the coffee can.

  “Good for you, drinking a sensible brand of coffee,” she said as she scooped grounds from the red can. “All those fancy new coffeehouse brands are a waste of money. Terribly overrated, if you ask me.”

  Jenny didn’t argue. Not about making the coffee or being told to sit. She’d known Phyllis most of her life and knew better than to try to persuade her to change her mind about anything.

  “I was shocked yesterday when Maureen mentioned you two were already back. Of course I’d been visiting my cousin just outside of Boston over the weekend, so I wasn’t around.”

  Jenny craned her neck to look down the hall. Where the heck had Alex gone? He’d been right behind her.

  “Do you remember her?” Phyllis continued as she filled the carafe with water. “My cousin Mabel lived here about twenty years ago. That was before she married that bum from Quincy. Thank God she left him five years ago. Took her long enough, if you ask me. Anyway, I was down there helping her plan her daughter’s wedding when you got back, so that’s why I hadn’t heard—”

  Phyllis stopped abruptly and turned to face Jenny. “For goodness sakes, I haven’t even asked about the surgery. I’m so embarrassed.”

  “Don’t be. I know Alex gave Maureen regular reports. I’m sure she kept you filled in.” Jenny slid a furtive glance down the hall. She was more concerned about where Alex had gone.

  “True. She said the surgery was a complet
e success and you could expect a full recovery.”

  Jenny nodded. “It’s just a matter of time, going to physical therapy and doing my exercises. Which Alex makes sure I do even if I don’t feel like it.”

  Phyllis frowned. “Where is that husband of yours?”

  “I don’t know. He was right behind me.”

  “Probably had to use the facilities.” Phyllis went back to getting the coffee started. “Shall I stick this casserole in the microwave?”

  “Not yet.” Jenny bit her lip. She wasn’t in the habit of telling fibs and she was horrible at it. But it would be for an excellent cause. “Alex said something about taking a nap before dinner. He had a long day at the clinic.”

  “Of course. He’s probably so far behind on his work.” Phyllis hurriedly washed and dried her hands. “I’ll tell you what, honey. I’ll stop by another time for a cup of coffee and a nice chat.”

  Jenny smiled with relief as Alex walked into the kitchen. He’d changed his shirt and combed his hair. His truck keys were in his hand.

  “I wondered where you went,” Jenny said lightly, while her heart sank.

  “I got a call on my cell phone. I have to go back to the clinic.” The way he averted his gaze indicated that her little white lie wasn’t the only one told this evening.

  “Oh, no. I’m sorry.” Jenny gave him a sympathetic smile and then casually added, “Phyllis is leaving, too.”

  He looked briefly at Jenny, his expression unreadable. Did he understand that he didn’t have to leave? That their evening hadn’t been ruined? That within five minutes they could be naked and in bed together?

  “Of course I could stay and keep you company awhile since Alex will be gone.” Phyllis looked expectantly at her.

  Jenny looked at Alex. They might as well have been discussing the weather for all the emotion he showed.

  “Actually, I’m a little tired.” Jenny gave the older woman an apologetic smile.

  “Another time.” Phyllis patted her arm. “Come on, Alex, I’ll walk out with you.”

  “I’ll call you later,” he told Jenny, and stopped to give her a quick kiss on her forehead.

  She tried to catch his eye, look for some sign that he’d hurry back as soon as Phyllis was gone. No luck.

  “Thanks again for dinner,” she called as Phyllis stepped outside. “I’ll talk to you later, okay, Alex?”

  “I’ll call.” He didn’t turn.

  Jenny went to the window and watched them both drive away. She got herself a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table, where she had a view of the driveway, and waited for Alex to return.

  Two and half hours later, disappointed and confused, she gave up and crawled into bed.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE NEXT MORNING Alex woke up early, before Jenny and the chickens, even though he hadn’t gotten home and into bed until after midnight. Sleep hadn’t come for another hour after that. And then it had been restless and fitful, and every time he had a conscious thought, it was about how much he wanted to have Jenny beside him in his bed.

  He cursed to himself as he measured out the coffee grounds for the third go-round. He’d lost track at about the fifth scoop every time.

  “You have some explaining to do, mister.”

  The sound of Jen’s voice startled him, and half the grounds from the scoop ended up on the counter. “Damn it.”

  “That’s the least of your worries.”

  He turned to find her standing in the doorway, her hands on her hips. “What’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong?” she repeated, her eyes wide with indignation. “You come home at some ungodly hour without calling, and you ask me what’s wrong?”

  She sounded so much like a wife that he smiled.

  “You find worrying me amusing?” She wasn’t just angry. Hurt resonated in her voice, dulled her eyes.

  “You’re right. I should have called.” He narrowed his gaze. Something was different. “Your cane... you’re not using your cane.”

  Her face brightened, and she smiled. “I can walk for short periods without it now.”

  “That’s terrific, Jen.” He put aside the coffee, ignoring the spill, and washed and dried his hands. “Just don’t overdo it.”

  Her expression fell. “Yes, Dad.”

  He winced. “I worry about you.”

  “Tough. I worried about you last night.” The hurt was in her eyes again.

  He slowly walked toward her and watched the wariness creep into her face. He bracketed her waist with his hands. “I’m sorry, honey. That was childish.”

  She blinked. “Were you at the clinic?”

  “Most of the time.” He hesitated, not wanting to admit that he’d driven around like a lovesick teenager, pouting because they’d been interrupted yet afraid to finish what he’d started. But he didn’t want to lie to her, either.

  She let the silence stretch, waiting for him to explain. Her face was tilted to his, and her eyes were the most incredible caramel color. He slid his hands around her and drew her closer.

  “Why did you stay away?” she asked with the earnestness of a child.

  “Because I was a fool.” He lowered his head, and she lifted her mouth for his kiss.

  Her lips were soft and warm and incredibly sweet. They tempted him to forget that making love wasn’t a good idea. She was too vulnerable. Hell, at this point, so was he.

  He’d always liked and respected Jenny. She was smart and funny and ambitious. She hadn’t forgotten her father just because she’d left the nest. She’d sent him money when she could, and her letters and phone calls were unfailing, no matter how demanding her career.

  But who would’ve thought he could feel like this about her?

  He didn’t have a free moment when he didn’t think about her. Even when he was tending patients, he sometimes had to focus his concentration. Jenny kept leaping into his thoughts.

  He wondered what she was doing, whether she’d done her exercises. He worried that she was lonely or bored and missed New York. He dreaded the day she’d be well enough to leave.

  The thought ignited a need in him so great, he abruptly deepened the kiss, mindless of her gasp of surprise. She didn’t resist but ran her palms up his chest to encircle his neck. Her firm breasts pressed against him, and he fought the urge to pick her up and carry her to his bed.

  She shifted suddenly, and he withdrew, anxious that he’d somehow hurt her. “Are you okay?” he asked, still holding her by the waist.

  She nodded, her eyes dazed. “I think it’s Bagel.”

  Alex shook his head. What the heck was she talking about? And then he heard the sound. Bagel was at the door, whimpering and scratching to come inside.

  “Damn, I’d forgotten I let him out.” He had no choice but to release Jenny. Bagel wouldn’t give up until he was let in, and the scratching noise would drive them both crazy.

  Jen reached for something on the other side of the door. It was her cane, which she’d left leaning against the wall. Alex gritted his teeth in annoyance. What a selfish jerk he was. She probably hadn’t planned on standing unassisted that long.

  “Better go let him in,” she said. “Or you know he’ll start barking loud enough to wake the entire county.”

  “Have a seat and I’ll finish making the coffee.” He opened the kitchen door and Bagel rushed in as if a fire burned on his heels. The dog headed directly for Jenny.

  Alex was about to stop him, afraid he’d be too boisterous for her, but she put out her hand and rubbed the area above his nose and between his eyes, just where Bagel liked it.

  “Well, good morning, boy. Did you have a good run? Huh?” She scratched behind one ear, then the other. Bagel curled into a ball at her feet. He was putty in her hands. Just like Alex.

 
* * *

  JENNY WASN’T QUITE up to baking. Standing on her feet long enough to assemble the ingredients and then mix the dough would be foolish. Any other day she might have gone ahead and pushed herself. Not today, though. She had plans for tonight, and she wanted to be in tiptop shape.

  After Phyllis Cooper’s interruption last night and Bagel’s intrusion this morning, Jenny didn’t want anything getting in her way for the perfect dinner she had planned...and more important, for the rest of the night. They were going to end up in bed. Together. Her bed or his, it didn’t matter.

  But she had washed her sheets just in case. And sprayed the pillowcases with cologne. She’d dusted the various pictures and knickknacks she had scattered on her dresser and storage headboard. The chores had taken a lot of energy and effort. That was why she’d decided against spending too much time in the kitchen.

  She picked up the phone and punched in the number for the local pizzeria. They had a few pasta dishes on the menu, and since they were the only establishment in the area that delivered, pasta would have to do. It was not being able to make a pineapple upside down cake that annoyed her. Alex had said it was his favorite. She’d really wanted to surprise him.

  After she placed an order for lasagna and antipasto, she carefully studied the small assortment of wine Alex kept on an oak rack in the dining room. She selected a cabernet she’d seen him drink with pasta once before, then set the table with the good china.

  At five-twenty, she ran a warm lavender-scented bath. He would be home at six-thirty, he’d assured her, which gave her enough time to bathe and put on some makeup and do her hair. She’d be so irresistible, nothing would stop him from taking her to bed.

  Sometime around noon, after she’d gotten over hurt feelings from his disappearance last night, she’d come to a realization. She had to make the first move. The first real move. The take-no-prisoners move. Alex’s misguided sense of honor was screwing everything up. He thought of himself as her protector. Her father’s friend. Not as a potential lover. It would be up to her to prove he could have all those roles, if he chose.

  She got out of her clothes and lowered herself into the warm sudsy water. This was her first bath since the surgery. She’d been afraid of slipping and hurting herself. Even now, the slick porcelain tub made her nervous, but she settled into the soothing water, rested her head against the air pillow and closed her eyes.