Close To Home (Westen Series) (14 page)

A horn blast sounded, startling her as a dark car zoomed past her on the highway. Its presence on the desolate stretch of the highway as much a shock as the noise of the horn. Suddenly the vision of another dark sedan almost running her and the boys over popped into her mind.

That was ridiculous. No way was it the same car.

Nerves.
It was nothing more than a case of exhaustion and nerves. Driving in the dead of night always made her jumpy.

Now she wished she’d had that extra cup of coffee Jacqueline tried to get her to drink before leaving, but it would’ve kept her awake for hours if she had.

“If I get to sleep at all tonight,” she told herself, shaking her head.

God, she hated nights like this. Usually hers was a happy job. Bringing babies into the world—she really loved it—but nights like this one, well, death wasn’t something she’d ever handled gracefully. Oh, there were doctors and nurses who faced death on a regular basis, helping others accept it in a compassionate, caring way. She didn’t fall into that category. That was one of the reasons she planned to go into obstetrics after nursing school. She could hide from the darker part of medicine for the most part there.

Her drive appeared on her left. Emma turned into it, thankful that she had made it home in one piece. Glancing at the clock, she put the car into park before turning off the engine.

One in the morning. Not too bad. If her luck held, she might get enough sleep to be a nice mom in the morning. She lifted her canvas bag and purse from the car and headed to the darkened porch.

A soft glow from the porch swing caught her attention.

“Who’s there?” she gasped and took a step backward.

“Just me, Emma.” Clint’s voice rose from the shadowed porch corner.

“You scared the daylights out of me, Clint. What’re you still doing here?” She took a step toward him and smelled the cigar he held in his hand. “And why are you smoking on my front porch?”

“I’m smoking because I like an occasional cigar and it helps me pass the time. I’m here because I wanted to talk to you before you went to bed.” The old swing creaked as he shifted to one side. “Have a seat. The stars are bright tonight.”

With a weariness she felt clear to her soul, Emma set the bag inside the front door then settled herself in the space he’d made for her. The swing moved back and forth with the gentle movement of his leg.

Hundreds of stars twinkled at her through the dark night.

They sat that way for some time. How long she didn’t know. The cool, early-autumn night air finally penetrated the thickness of her denim jacket. She shivered. Without a word, Clint stretched his arm behind her shoulders and drew her against his side. Emma leaned against his warmth, his strength. Then it happened—the damn broke. From nowhere, the tears filled her eyes. They flowed down her cheeks. She reached to wipe them away, but they kept coming. They grew more forceful and she clutched at his flannel shirt. Her body shook with her soft sobs.

Clint pulled her closer, smoothing her hair with his free hand. She felt something soft against the top of her head. It took a few minutes for the words he whispered to penetrate her own sadness.

“Sh, Em. Take it easy. It’ll be all right. Sh. Settle down, darlin’.”

She hiccuped once, then twice, finally regaining control of herself. Yet, when she tried to move away from him, Clint’s arms tightened to hold her in place.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” she mumbled against his chest.

“It’s okay. I’m sure this shirt will dry some day,” he teased.

She couldn’t resist smiling into the damp fabric.

“Now how about you tell me what happened tonight?”

“How did you know something happened at work?”

“I was here when you called Harriett to tell her you wouldn’t be home early. She said you sounded upset. I sent her home once the boys were asleep.” His hand smoothed her hair once again. “So, what has you so sad?”

“I love working at the hospital. It’s why I want to become a nurse. And most of the time it’s fun and happy, helping people have their babies. It really is the best part of medicine. But sometimes...” She stopped to take a breath and control the tears threatening to start again. “Sometimes...the worst part of this job is when a baby or a mother dies.”

He squeezed her tighter. With that encouragement, she continued. She couldn’t have stopped the words if she’d tried. Dwayne never cared enough to listen to her. And her parents were from an age when people didn’t discuss the intimate topic of childbirth. For once, her work interested someone.

“We had a baby die tonight. It was too premature to survive. The mother’s water broke and she developed an infection.” Emma leaned her head onto his shoulder and let out a sad sigh. “It was her first pregnancy. She wanted this baby. The nurses tried to keep her as comfortable as possible, but her fever shot up and that always makes the pain worse. Then this little life just slid out into my hands.”

“Where were the doctor and nurse?” Clint asked gently.

“The doc was home in bed. I don’t mind that she missed this one. She’s not the most compassionate person under the best of circumstances. The nurse had been called to deliver another baby the same doctor missed.”

“That doesn’t say too much for my colleague, does it?”

Emma shook her head. “There seem to be many like her out in the world, Clint. It’s why I made the decision to be a nurse instead. I need to have the freedom to give compassion.”

He reached under her chin and tipped her face until they were eye to eye. “I’m sure you helped the parents through it as easily as you could.”

“It’s just so sad to hand them the lifeless body of a baby they’d hoped and dreamed for.”

A tear slipped its way onto her cheek.

He brushed it away with his thumb, leaning closer, his lips just a breath above her own. “Don’t cry, little Emma.” The words caressed her lips for a second before he settled on them.

She hadn’t exchanged this intimate human contact with a man in such a long time. Yet, she knew he held back for her sake, making the kiss one of comfort. A gentle pressure, neither taking nor demanding more than it offered.

Emma tasted him, his cigar’s burnt tobacco, a bit of chocolate from one of Lorna’s cakes and the masculine flavor of him. She wanted more. Her lips parted in open invitation and she leaned into him.

With a hungry groan, Clint pulled her to him, crushing her breasts against his hard chest. His tongue slipped inside to graze the sharp edge of her teeth before stroking her tongue. Emma matched him stroke for stroke, moving closer to his heat, his desire.

She couldn’t taste enough of him, couldn’t touch enough of him. Her hands gripped and molded the tight muscles of his arms, his shoulders. Then she caressed his neck. Finally she curled her fingers into his hair at his collar.

The kiss continued and deepened. Emma moved even closer to the source of heat, wanting everything his kiss promised.

Just when she was sure of what she wanted, Clint eased away.

“Emma,” he said in a strained whisper, his forehead pressed against hers. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

His words doused the fire of her desire like a bucket of cold water. Humiliation quickly replaced passion as she pulled herself free of his grasp. Dwayne had tolerated her emotions and desires with condescension for years. She’d promised herself never to repeat that experience. And certainly
not
with Clint Preston.

Pride straightened her spine despite her weariness and she pushed herself up from the swing. “I’m sorry you were forced to tolerate my emotional outburst, doctor. You can be sure it won’t happen again!” She turned on her heel and headed for the door.

Clint’s hand slammed the door shut before she got it open six inches. His body pressed her up against the screen, his hands on each side of her head, trapping her in place.

“Em, I didn’t
tolerate
you. I enjoyed kissing you very much.” To emphasize his words he caressed her neck with his lips. A shiver ran through her as he moved closer to her ear. His chest pressed against her back. His hips thrust the thick bulge of his erection against her buttocks.

A sigh escaped Emma’s parted lips as she realized he truly desired her as much as she did him.

“Believe me, Em,” he continued, breathing warmly, softly against her ear, “I want nothing more than to strip you naked and love every luscious inch of you. In fact, I’ve been fantasizing about just that—” he kissed her ear “—since the moment I saw you all rumpled in your bed that first morning.”

He moved back and turned her around to face him. His lips came down on hers hard and fast, a possessive kiss that left no doubt in her mind about his desire for her. It ended as fast as it started.

“I want you. But I don’t want the fact that I need you to be confused with my need to comfort you. That is what I meant when I said I didn’t want the kiss to get out of hand before. When you need comforting, I intend to be there to do it. But when I need to love you, there will be no doubt that it’s because we’re both emotionally and physically ready to do so. Is that clear, Red?”

So stunned by his confessions of need, both to love her and comfort her, Emma barely managed to nod her head in agreement.

“Good.” Clint leaned in to kiss her once again, starting out hot and masterful, but softening it just before he released his hold on her. “Now get some sleep.”

With those words he turned and walked down the stairs, disappearing into the night.

He couldn’t be serious.

He announced his plans to make love to her and actually believed she’d ever be able to sleep again?

A
fter getting both boys settled in their first-grade classes for the day, Emma stood in her kitchen sipping her orange juice. She desperately tried to calm her nerves before seeing Clint this morning.

She couldn’t believe he’d kissed her last night. Her fingers went to her mouth and she traced its contour. The feel of his lips still lingered on them and in her mind.

Boy, what a kiss. In all her life, she’d never been kissed so thoroughly. Certainly not by her louse of an ex-husband.

Clint kissed her like she was a piece of New York cheesecake and he wanted to devour every morsel. The biggest problem was she feared she wanted more. More of Clint and his kisses wouldn’t be a good thing. His presence in her and the boys’ lives was temporary. When his aunt and uncle returned in January, Clint would return to his ER practice in the city, and she and the boys would remain in Weston. She needed to keep that fact firmly planted in her mind.

Somehow, she needed to keep her distance from Clint. The problem remained that until they’d finished all the remodeling on what she now called the great room, she and Clint would work side by side nearly every day. She also still needed to pay him back for all the supplies he’d bought for the project.

Lifting the phone, she dialed the café’s number. At least she could do something about earning extra money. Working extra shifts would also help her keep a little distance between herself and the good doctor.

When she finished scheduling some morning hours for this week, she spread out the blueprints for the remodel on her kitchen table. Then she got out her notebook and the building plan to decide the day’s work schedule.

She had to admit that between Clint’s supplies and his own organized work routine and skills, the remodeling had jumped way ahead of her original schedule. She looked at the gaping hole between her kitchen and great room, surrounded by the original support beam and temporary four-by-fours to brace the weight. Today she and Clint, with Joe Hillis from the lumberyard’s help, would frame in the new pass-through wall between the rooms.

Pleasure spread over her and she found herself smiling at the semi-state of disaster in her house, imagining what the future would be like once it was finished. Soon, she, Mama and the boys would have a family room to watch TV and play games in. She could be in the kitchen and still keep an eye on them through the pass-through.

That was another reason she needed to keep things between herself and the doctor strictly business. She didn’t want anyone in town thinking more was going on in her home than construction. When Clint left, she needed some part of her dignity to remain intact.

“So, I’ll just let him know, there’ll be no more kissing. This is strictly a business relationship, and I intend to keep it that way.”

“Who are you talking to, dear?”

Nearly spilling her juice on the blueprints, Emma looked over her shoulder to see Mama coming in from the backyard carrying a basketful of clippings from her rose garden. Dressed in her favorite embroidered denim blouse and jeans she always wore for gardening, she’d neatly folded her hair into a French roll at the back of her head. She’d even put on her silver and pearl teardrop earrings.

Since she’d started making sure her mother took the medication Clint had prescribed every morning, Mama seemed more like herself. Although she still had periods of confusion, they seemed less frequent.

Today seemed to be shaping up to another good day.

“You look nice today, Mama.” She kissed her mother on the cheek then set her empty juice glass in the sink.

“Thank you,” Mama replied then reached under the sink for a glass vase. “And you didn’t answer me. Who were you talking to?”

Hmm. Maybe having Mama this lucid might not be such a good thing. She didn’t really want to discuss Clint or the kiss they’d shared with her mother.

“Just talking to myself about the remodeling.”

“Oh. I’d hoped you were talking to Doctor Preston. He’s such a nice man. Why don’t you invite him to dinner sometime, dear?” Mama clipped the ends off the roses beneath running water then arranged them in the vase. “You know it’s really time you started dating again, Em.”

Emma stared at her mother. Good God, was Mama actually trying to match-make her with Clint? “Mama, Doctor Preston and I are simply friends.”

“He seems very interested in helping you with remodeling the house.”

“We have a business arrangement, Mama. There’s nothing more to it.”