Straight from the Heart (11 page)

He stood up on the seat of the booth and threw his arms around Jace in an unself-conscious hug. Jace hugged him back, his eyes misting over. How was it he had lived so many years without knowing what it was to want this—a wife, a home, the love of a son? Looking back, the last few years of his life seemed like such a waste of time, of talent, of everything that mattered.

“Can we go play the games now, Mom?” Justin asked brightly as he twisted around in Jace’s arms.

Rebecca didn’t trust herself to speak. She forced a smile and nodded. As Justin scrambled over Jace’s lap, she steeled herself. Surely he would take advantage of this opportunity and bring up the subject of Justin’s paternity again. She slid across the vinyl seat with her eyes lowered and glanced up in surprise when her hip bumped up against Jace’s. His expression was one of concern and the same tenderness he had shown Justin.

“You’re a wonderful mother, Becca,” he said softly, earnestly.

Tears welled up in her eyes. He could be the sweetest man on earth. It was so unfair that he could also be the most fickle. For the moment, though, she welcomed his words and the heartfelt sentiment behind them and remembered that he had once been her best friend.

“Thank you,” she whispered, trying to smile and sniffle at the same time. “I try.”

“I know you do.” He stroked a hand over her dark hair, which gleamed under the amber lights. In what was fast becoming a habit, Jace leaned down and kissed her softly. She offered no protest, which was encouragement enough to bring a smile to his face. “Are you ready to beat me at PacMan?”

Rebecca groaned. “You know how I am with machines.”

Jace eased himself out of the booth, carefully straightening his left leg. Then he gave Rebecca a hand out. Testing his luck, he slipped an arm around her shoulders. “I’ll let you cheat.”

Rebecca wasn’t sure who was more fun to watch, Jace and Justin or Hugh and Muriel. Her father seemed to be having the time of his life. With Muriel Marquardt. Who would have guessed, she wondered. All these years Muriel had lived right across the alley.

It made Rebecca feel a little guilty, but she had never really wondered whether her father would want another romantic involvement. He had loved Gabrielle in a way that happened once in a lifetime. It had never occurred to Rebecca that he might yearn for a relationship with another woman.

“Dad and Muriel are having a great time,” she said as Jace slid down onto a chair at the little table they had claimed off the games area.

Jace kept his eyes protectively on Justin, making sure the boy made it safely through the crowd to the machine his grandfather was playing. “Yeah. Hey, that Muriel is pretty sharp at pinball. I think she’s some kind of hustler.” He turned back to Rebecca with a smile that warmed her heart. “How about you, beautiful? Are you having fun?”

She smiled down at the table, embarrassed that he could still make her blush with nothing more than a look. “I’m having a very nice time.”

“Gee, could you try not to sound so surprised?” he complained teasingly. “The male ego is a delicate creature.”

“A delicate creature the size of a sperm whale,” she corrected, chuckling. Jace reached across the table and tweaked her nose.

“Hey, look! It’s Cooper!” a voice boomed above the noise of the room.

Jace looked up and grinned as two of his new teammates and their girlfriends made their way through the throng carrying pizzas and a pitcher of beer. He had begun attending team meetings, anticipating the day when he would be able to work out with the Mavericks and eventually play with them. The team was a motley crew of jouneyman players, more of them on their way down than up, but they were, for the most part, nice guys. Jace had hit it off with them instantly.

“Becca,” he said, standing up, “this is Pat Wylie, the Mavericks’ catcher, and Jerome Tarvin, shortstop and Elvis impersonator extraordinaire.”

Jerome jerked a hand back through his well-oiled pompadour, curled his lip, and sang a couple of bars of “Hound Dog.” Everybody laughed and applauded. The players introduced their girlfriends and asked Rebecca how long it would be before they could get Jace into the Mavericks’ lineup.

“Soon,” she promised. “He’s making progress.”

“Not soon enough,” Wylie said. “Comitzki is like a sieve at third base. Everything goes right through him. I think the guy’s legally blind.”

“Then he ought to give up third base and become an umpire,” Jace suggested, chuckling. Jerome twisted his hips and sang a line of “Don’t Be Cruel.”

“It’ll be a different story when we get Super Cooper in there,” Pat announced as he poured mugs of foaming cold beer and passed them around the table. “Take heart! Drink up!”

Jace stared at the glass the catcher shoved in front of him. “No, thanks.”

“Go ahead, Jace.” Jerome laughed. “You might as well enjoy yourself before you join the ranks.”

Rebecca watched Jace with curious eyes as he stared at the sweating glass. He looked like a man who was dying of thirst but had been forbidden on pain of death to take a drink. She shoved a soda into his hand and sent his friends a wry smile. “Sorry, guys, he’s in training.”

Jace forced a grin and shrugged. “What can I say? She’s the boss.”

As soon as his teammates moved on to join another group of friends, Jace suggested going out for a breath of fresh air. He didn’t say a word until they reached Muriel’s DeSoto, some distance away from the building. Then he leaned against the ugly monster of a car and looked up at the sky.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?”

Rebecca leaned back beside him with her hands in the pockets of her blue dirndl skirt. “You quit drinking too,” she said quietly.

For once, Jace didn’t come back with a snappy retort. He looked away and scuffed the sole of his Topsider against the fine gravel in Captain Jack’s parking lot.

“I guess it’s my turn to say we used to be friends,” she said. “Whatever else has happened or will happen, you can still talk to me, Jace.”

It was plain to Rebecca that she was opening a door that, to this point, she had been leaning against to keep shut. But in that instant, when Pat Wylie had pushed the drink in front of him, she had seen something in Jace, something that had convinced her he truly was trying to make changes in his life. She had seen vulnerability, fear, and the determination to not give in to it. He was a man struggling, a man who had once been her best friend in the whole world.

“I haven’t had a drink in four months.”

“Was it a problem?”

He laughed. “I didn’t think so—until I quit.”

It was kind of funny how he had thought himself to be invincible. He had partied because he liked to party, drank because he enjoyed it. There had never been a thought in his head about consequences.

That way of life had ended late one night in a tangle of metal on the Dan Ryan Expressway.

In the four months since, he had discovered what it was to
need
a drink, to crave the kind of oblivion that came from one too many. He considered it part of his punishment to deny himself that comfort. He didn’t deserve to forget what had happened. He owed it to himself to remember.

“I’ve changed, Becca,” he said, turning to look at her in the thin light of the parking lot. “I need you to believe that. I need you to believe in me.”

Rebecca raised a hand to touch his cheek. Her thumb brushed across the tiny scar that angled away from his lip. She had been trying so hard to keep her distance from him, but she was discovering that some threads of an old friendship were hard to break. Looking at Jace now, she could see the changes in him. And she could see those changes had been made on a long, hard road. She had been guarding herself, concerned only about her needs in a relationship. Jace had needs, too, needs that went deeper than the physical.

Still she held back. Self-preservation was a strong instinct. She offered him what support she could. “I believe you’re trying, Jace. I want you to succeed.”

Knowing he had to prove himself to her, Jace tried to ignore the sting her doubt caused. At least she believed he was making the effort. He only wished she could realize what it was costing him to have to make that effort alone.

“Thanks,” he whispered, bending his head to kiss her.

Rebecca went willingly into his arms. She had spent too many nights dreaming of his kiss not to. It was something they both needed for more than one reason. They needed the strength and comfort of each other’s arms. They sought the sweet haze of desire to soothe old hurts and insecurities, to block out realities that were too harsh.

For this one suspended moment Rebecca let go of every thought that had plagued her logical, analytical mind and thought only of this kiss, of the taste of this man she had never forgotten. He held her so she could feel their hearts beating together. He kissed her with a hunger that bordered on desperation and yet was sweet and achingly tender.

After a long moment Jace raised his head and looked into her eyes. “Becca, I—”

“—think we’d better go back inside,” she interrupted. She knew the words that were ready to tumble out of his mouth. She couldn’t bear to hear them now, not when she was so dangerously close to falling in love with him all over again. Not when she didn’t have the strength to stop herself.

Jace bit back a sigh. “I think we’d better wait a couple of minutes.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he said, giving her a lopsided grin as he pressed her hips back against the DeSoto with his own. Her eyes went wide at the feel of him hard and straining against her softness. “If we go back now, everybody in Captain Jack’s is going to know just how much I like you.”

                  6                  

Jace’s therapy proceeded at a rate that pleased him but couldn’t quite placate his urge to hurry back to baseball. Eighty miles away, the Chicago Kings were in second place in their division, playing adequate but uninspired ball. The Mishawaka Mavericks occupied their usual spot in the Class A standings—the cellar. It looked to Jace as though everybody needed a third baseman. He was allowed to do no more than take light batting practice.

Rebecca assured him that the injured knee was progressing very well. She stressed the importance of not trying to go back too soon.

Making progress with Rebecca outside the therapy room was slower going. In the nearly three weeks since their evening at Captain Jack’s, she had allowed him to take steps to renew their friendship but had drawn the line after that. It was a line that blurred when he stole an occasional kiss or managed to remind her of the kind of passion they once had shared, but the boundary was there just the same.

All in all, Jace felt he really couldn’t complain about the way things were going. He had known that starting over would be a slow process, but he felt he was making a solid foundation on which to build the rest of his life. It was sort of like hitting. A man didn’t develop a perfect swing overnight.

It would all come together for him. He could feel it, feel that luck was gradually swinging to his side where Rebecca was concerned. Of course, the new Jace Cooper wasn’t going to rely on luck to save the game for him.

Rebecca sat at her desk, going over the statistics for the proposed expansion of the physical therapy department, looking for places where she could cut corners without compromising patient care.

“Feel like breaking for coffee?” Dominique asked, sticking her head into the office.

Rebecca pulled her reading glasses off and dropped them onto the sea of paper that covered her desk. She made a face. “I feel like breaking something.”

“I don’t envy you your administrative duties,” Dominique said, bumping the door open with her hip and carrying in a cafeteria tray with coffee and doughnuts on it.

“Nor should you.”

Rebecca took in her friend’s appearance at a glance. Dominique’s mane of curly black hair was slicked back into a ponytail that blossomed behind her head like a bursting cattail. Beneath her standard white hospital jacket she wore a shimmering gold blouse and a black leather skirt that displayed her mile-long legs to perfection. Rebecca shook her head in amazement. “How do you do it, Dominique? I feel like a lab rat running around in this coat, and you look as though you belong on the cover of
Cosmopolitan
.”

“It’s called flamboyance,” Dominique answered, sitting down and pouring a drop of cream into her coffee. “Your understated elegance is hidden by the coat. My flamboyance turns it into an accessory. Any other profound questions you want me to answer? About your love life, for instance?”

“I don’t have a love life,” Rebecca said on a groan. “I’m living in a state of limbo.”

“Why is that?”

She sighed as she leaned back in her chair. “Jace tells me he’s changed. He needs me to believe in him. I can see the changes, but I still can’t bring myself to trust him. I’m scared.”

“Understandable.” Dominique nodded as she broke a sugared doughnut in two and nibbled on a piece. “For what it’s worth, I’ve had my eye on Jace the Ace. He comes across like the genuine article to me, and I can spot a phony man before anyone else so much as catches a whiff of his aftershave.”

Rebecca’s mouth dropped into its natural sultry pout. “The trouble is, Jace never was a phony. He always meant what he said when he said it.”

“But—?”

“But…” Rebecca’s gaze was suddenly drawn through the window to the therapy room, where some kind of commotion had staff and patients gathering. “What in the world is going on out there?”

Dominique shrugged and dismissed it. “Let Max handle it. We’re off duty.”

Laughter sounded outside the office, and the crowd parted. Rebecca stared in astonishment as a robot motored toward her window. It was about four feet tall and nearly that wide, with a shiny aluminum canister for a body and a clear glass head like a giant lightbulb. It wore an oversize white hospital jacket with the name tag “Dr. Merlin” pinned above the breast pocket. A stethoscope hung around its neck. As it stopped outside the window, it blinked its lights at Rebecca and raised a hook-ended accordian arm in greeting.

“Where did
that
come from?” Dominique asked, amazed.

Rebecca shook her head, laughing. “I have reason to believe it came from my basement. Dad and Jace have been down there for weeks working on it.”

They abandoned their coffee and went out into the exercise room to get a closer look. The robot wheeled around and approached Rebecca, the panel of buttons on its chest lighting up like a Christmas tree. It stopped a foot away from her, chattering and beeping, until a green-striped printout emerged from a slot in its midsection.

Hesitantly Rebecca reached out, tore the sheet of paper away, and read it aloud. “Patient: Rebecca Bradshaw. Dr. Merlin’s diagnosis: Works too hard. Dr. Merlin prescribes: A night on the town with Jace Cooper.”

Good-natured laughter rippled through the crowd that had assembled.

“That’s sound medical advice, Rebecca,” Dr. Cornish said, a grin splitting his plump, pleasant features.

“She doesn’t date patients!” Bob Wilkes called emphatically from the whirlpool.

Mr. Peppy, the sweat sock hand puppet, suddenly popped into Rebecca’s face, eyebrows waggling. “Doctor’s orders, Ms. Bradshaw. A hot date with Jace the Ace. What do you say?”

“I say I don’t discuss my private life with hosiery,” she said dryly.

The robot came to life again, startling Rebecca so she jumped back. It blinked and bleeped and spat out another piece of paper. She pulled it away from the little machine, this time reading the printout to herself.

A smile curved up the corners of her mouth. Dr. Merlin promised a romantic dinner in a local establishment that boasted turn-of-the-century decor. Tiffany lamps, and superb aged steak, followed by a moonlight cruise down the St. Joseph River aboard the double-decker paddleboat
The Princess of Mishawaka
.

Who but Jace would be crazy enough to romance her with a robot? Who but Jace would be sweet enough? Who but Jace would know of her love for moonlight on the river?

“What’s the verdict?” Mrs. Krumhansle asked from her position on the mat table.

Rebecca grinned. “I think I’ll go out with Dr. Merlin.”

“I don’t think that would be a very good idea,” Jace said, walking into the exercise room with a remote control box in his hands. “You know how you are with machines, Becca. Poor Merlin would be reduced to a bucket of bolts before the evening was over.”

Rebecca laughed and shook a finger at him. “You’re outrageous.”

“I aim to please,” he said, glowing with happiness. He had the distinct feeling that Rebecca was getting ready to erase that line she’d drawn between them.

“Well, aim your fanny at that exam table, Cooper,” she ordered, taming her wide smile. “We have work to do around here.”

The crowd began to break up, though a number of patients and staff seemed unusually reluctant to leave. Rebecca ignored them. Her relationship with Jace was the main topic of debate on the third floor of the hospital, overtaking even the gossip about the ward secretary and the handsome resident in orthopedics. She had decided the best way to handle the problem was to act as if it weren’t a problem. She treated Jace’s flirting as she treated any other patient’s—outwardly at least.

Using the remote control, Jace parked his robot out of harm’s way.

“You and Dad have done quite a job on that little monster,” Rebecca said.

“Your dad is a genius. I just helped with the nuts-and-bolts stuff,” Jace said, hoisting himself onto the table. “He’s asked me to help him with the marketing after the baseball season is over.”

“Really?” Was that a subtle way of telling her Hugh had faith in him sticking around, she wondered. “Lie flat on your back.”

After removing his brace she lifted his left leg off the table, bent it at the knee, and rotated his foot with one hand while her other hand gently felt his injured joint, checking for meniscal damage.

“You never answered,” he said.

“I never answered what?” Keeping his knee bent at about twenty degrees, she carefully pulled his leg forward, testing the integrity of the healing anterior cruciate ligament.

“Dinner and the cruise. Will you join me?”

“I don’t date patients.”

Chuckling, Jace shook his head. He craned his neck to catch a glimpse of her face. “That dog won’t hunt, sweetheart. We’ve already been out together.”

“That wasn’t a date, that was a coincidence. As I recall, I told you I’d slug you if you called it a date.”

The smile she gave him was secretive and teasing and so utterly feminine, it almost made Jace groan aloud. For once he was grateful when she took her hands off his body. Between her touch and the excitement of knowing she was on the brink of accepting him wholly, he was becoming damned aroused. It didn’t help that he spent his nights reliving their lovemaking in his dreams. Memories of how warm and responsive she was in bed had sharpened his hunger for her to the point that he was ready to kidnap her if she didn’t go out with him soon.

“Add two pounds for your progressive resistance exercises. You can start riding the bike for additional strengthening work, but be careful not to overdo it,” Rebecca said as Jace sat up. To his ears only, she whispered, “We can talk about this date after work.”

Jace fought back the urge to kiss her right there in front of her staff and patients. Instead he gave her a wink and slid off the table.

“I won’t tell a soul,” he whispered.

Rebecca watched him saunter toward the weight machine. Across the room several patients and staffers huddled together, arguing. Intending to break it up and send them back to work, Rebecca started toward them but brought herself up short as snatches of their conversation landed on her ears.

“That robot was a masterstroke.”

“I say it’s after the fact. You heard him say they’d already been out.”

“And she said they hadn’t, so all bets are still on.”

“No way.”

“Clear it with Jace.”

“Clear what with Jace?”

All faces froze at the sound of Rebecca’s voice. No doubt molten lava would have frozen at her tone. She stood with her hands planted on her hips, the look in her eyes preventing anyone from saying anything. Bob Wilkes sat in his wheelchair at the center of the group with a chart spread out on his lap. Rebecca stepped forward and snatched the paper up.
PT POOL
:
IF AND WHEN WILL REBECCA GO OUT WITH JACE
? was printed across the top in black marker.

The silence built around them. When Rebecca didn’t move or speak but merely went on staring at the chart, some of the others murmured excuses and platitudes in voices as meek as church mice.

“It was just for fun.”

“We didn’t mean anything by it.”

But all Rebecca could hear was one sentence she had picked up by accident.
Clear it with Jace
.

A fine rage built inside her until she thought she would burst at the seams. She turned on her heel and strode purposefully to the weight machine, where Jace was getting ready to strap his leg in. Throwing the chart in his face, she said, “In my office. Right now.”

He followed her in and closed the door, watching silently as she yanked the cord on the venetian blinds, shutting out their would-be audience.

Rebecca turned and slapped at the chart in his hands. “You think this is a game? You think my life is a game? I should have known you would pull something like this!”

Jace threw the paper down on her desk, his expression stony. “I didn’t have anything to do with this, Rebecca.”

“You expect me to believe that?” she asked, incredulous. “You’re the one who took bets on everything from boat races to babies being born. This has your name written all over it.”