Straight from the Heart (7 page)

The idea that was left on the page was the one that made the most sense: Put the past behind you and treat Jace Cooper as you would treat any other patient or acquaintance. You don’t want to get involved, so don’t get involved.

She congratulated herself. This was simple, this was logical, this was the intelligent way to deal with the situation. Setting her glasses and the tablet on the night table, she turned out the light and pulled the covers up around her.

Through her lace-framed window she could see across the alley to the back side of Muriel Marquardt’s house. A single light burned in the window of one downstairs room near the back porch.

In the dark, with her logical pad and pen out of sight, Rebecca couldn’t stop herself from wondering what Jace was still doing up. Was he in pain? Was he lonely? Was he thinking about her?

She pulled the covers up tighter around her chin, shook her head, and thought of Yogi Berra, who once had said, in a moment of profound wisdom, “It ain’t over till it’s over.”

                  4                  

Dawn came on the heels of a long, sleepless night. Rebecca dragged herself out of bed and went through her morning routine. It soon became obvious that it was going to be one of those days when none of her clothes fit right or combined to make an outfit and her hair defied styling. She finally gave up, put on a simple black dress, and slicked her hair back into a ponytail.

She grimaced at her reflection in the mirror above her dresser. Her skin was pale, and dark shadows lay under her green eyes. Lipstick only emphasized the drooping corners of her mouth. She felt as blue as the walls reflected in the mirror.

“You look as if you’re going to a funeral,” she said, “as the guest of honor.”

She shrugged, then turned and left the room. The look was appropriate to her mood; why change it?

“Who died?” Hugh asked calmly as Rebecca stepped into the kitchen, made a beeline for the coffee maker, and poured herself a cup.

She shot her father a dangerous look.

“Eggs?” he asked innocently, pointing his spatula at the frying pan on the stove in front of him.

“No, thank you. I’ll just have coffee this morning.”

Justin stomped into the room with an ominous scowl on his usually cheerful face. He stopped in front of Rebecca, planted his hands at the waistband of his jeans, and tapped his sneaker impatiently against the linoleum. “How come I have to eat eggs and you don’t?”

“Because I’m bigger than you are,” Rebecca said.

The three of them sat down at the kitchen table to begin what promised to be an unpleasant meal. Justin promptly spilled a glass of milk all over himself and the floor.

“Oh, Justin!” Rebecca wailed, leaping up from her chair to grab a towel. “Now you’re going to have to change clothes. You’re going to be late for school, I’m going to be late for work.”

He looked down at her as she sopped milk up off the floor. Sullenly he muttered, “If we had a dog, it could lick it up.”

Rebecca shook a finger at him. “Don’t start with that dog business, Justin. I’m in no mood.”

“Yes, you are,” he grumbled, tearing his toast into ragged pieces. “You’re in a bad mood.”

“Go change.” She enunciated each word carefully.

He slid down off his chair in slow motion, tempting fate as only a small boy can. “Mom, can I go see Mr. Cooper after school?”

Rebecca’s heart thudded into her breastbone. She wanted Justin and Jace together about as much as she wanted to contract malaria. Without looking up she gave her answer in a tone of voice that did not invite debate. “No.”

Justin’s expression clearly branded her as the most unfair mother on the face of the earth, possibly in the universe. “But Grandpa told me he’s a big baseball star, and he’s famous and everything!”

She rose and turned away, tossing the wet towel into the sink. “That doesn’t give you the right to bother him.”

“I promise I won’t bother him.”

“No.”

“But, Mom—”

“Justin,” Rebecca said sharply, wheeling to glare at him with her most dire look, “go change your clothes. I don’t want to hear another word about Jace Cooper.”

“Hmmm….” Hugh sighed, rattling his newspaper. His mustache drooped around his mouth as he watched his grandson stomp out of the room.

“Don’t start, Dad. Don’t start with me,” Rebecca said.

“Did I say anything?”

“Yes. You said ‘Hmmm,’” she accused. Plopping down onto her chair, she crossed her arms over her chest.

He rolled his eyes and calmly turned back to his paper. “Seems a fella can’t do much of anything around here without getting your back up.”

“My back isn’t up.” She sniffed indignantly, deliberately slouching on her chair.

“Then why jump all over Justin just because he wants to meet Jace? It’s only natural for a boy to want to get to know a sports star.”

“I don’t want him hanging around with Jace.”

“And why is that?”

Because if Justin spent time with Jace, that would mean she would inevitably end up spending time with Jace, and that was the very thing that had kept Rebecca tossing and turning as night had faded into morning. After the way her body had responded to his kiss, she didn’t trust herself to go anywhere near him outside the physical therapy department.

“Because he’s a bad influence,” she said when she realized her father was waiting for an answer.

“Oh, I see.” He chewed thoughtfully on fluffy scrambled eggs and washed them down with a swallow of orange juice. “You’re afraid Justin will start doing unnatural things such as playing baseball.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

Hugh put his fork down across his stoneware plate and rested his elbows on the table. “Daughter, you’re making Jace sound like a child molester. As I remember, he’s very good with kids. He used to help out with Little League. The kids loved him.”

“You’re making him sound like a father figure.”

“Hmmm…”

“There you go again with that ‘Hmmm’ business,” she said, more rattled by her fleeting thought of Jace as a father than by her own father’s mutterings. “It seems to me you have a very convenient memory where Jace Cooper is concerned,” she said. “You only remember his good points.”

“And you only remember his bad points,” Hugh retorted, then buried his nose in the entertainment section.

“They live on in infamy,” Rebecca grumbled, taking a sip of lukewarm coffee.

In fact, she was ready to add to Jace’s list of faults. He made her lose sleep, fight with her family, and drink cold coffee. He kissed her until she wasn’t sure who she was or what she wanted. He butted into her life when everything was sailing along smoothly. The man was an utter cad.

And he was going to be waiting for her when she got to work, she realized as she glanced at her watch.

What a rotten day. And it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet.

Jace was holding court when Rebecca walked into the exercise room. He sat on a table surrounded by an assortment of patients, doctors, and nurses. He may have faded out of the spotlight in Chicago, but in Mishawaka he was definitely hot property.

“You look as if you could use this,” Dominique said, pressing a cup of coffee into Rebecca’s hand.

Rebecca stared morosely across the room. The small crowd around Jace burst into laughter at something he’d said. It should have been illegal for someone so irresponsible to wield so much charm. “I could submerge myself in a vat of coffee, but I still don’t think it would help.”

“Didn’t get much sleep because you were worried about seeing him in here today, huh?”

Rebecca glanced up at her friend with a rueful expression. “I didn’t get much sleep knowing he had just moved in with my neighbor across the alley.”

Dominique smoothed a hand down the purple knit dress that hugged her heart-stopping figure. “Hmmm…”

Rebecca sighed. “Oh, please, not you, too, Dominique.”

“What did I say?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes and let the subject drop. The group surrounding Jace erupted into another round of raucous laughter. Dr. Cornish looked as if he might faint from lack of oxygen. A shapely blond nurse from orthopedics leaned close to Jace and patted his shoulder affectionately as she giggled.

Tossing back her coffee, Rebecca crumpled the Styrofoam cup and flung it into the trash, then crossed the room with a purposeful stride. She stopped short of the circle of admirers and planted her hands on her hips.

“The fascinating story of the misadventures of Super Cooper will have to continue at a later time, people. I, for one, have work to do,” she said in a tone so sharp it could have carved stone.

At the sound of her voice the crowd parted like the Red Sea. They dispersed after one glance at the look on Rebecca’s face. She heard them leaving, but she didn’t turn to watch them go. Her gaze was unwillingly riveted to Jace. He sat on the table, his legs dangling over the edge, with a hand braced on either side of him and his navy blue eyes staring steadily at her. Heat spread under the surface of her skin like wildfire as her body recalled their last encounter.

“’Morning, Becca,” he said softly. “Did you sleep well?”

“Perfectly,” she lied.

Jace considered calling her on it, but decided against it. She looked angry enough already. “I didn’t,” he admitted.

“Was your knee bothering you?”

“Some. My conscience was bothering me more,” he said honestly. “I’m sorry I pushed so hard yesterday, Becca.”

Dammit, Rebecca thought, he was doing it again. He was throwing her completely off balance. The Jace she remembered didn’t make apologies for his behavior, no matter how outrageous. She had been set to lay into him tooth and nail for disrupting her department. Now he’d taken the wind out of her sails with a few softly spoken words.

Well, she thought, suddenly melancholy with remembrance, his voice had always been able to do strange things to her. When he spoke in that soft, intimate way, it was as if his voice were weaving a sensual web around her brain, effectively cutting off her highly efficient thought process.

Entranced, she stared at the clear lines of his mouth, the neat archer’s bow shape of his upper lip, and the tiny silver scar that angled away from it. It was amazing how this one part of his body could wrest away her control, but then this one part of his body was very versatile and talented. It could soothe her with words, sear her with kisses…

“I apologize for upsetting you, but I don’t regret kissing you,” he said.

Rebecca nearly bolted at the sound of his voice, but caught herself and stepped forward. “Stop staring at my mouth,” she said half under her breath.

Jace chuckled. “Was I staring at your mouth? That’s probably because I was remembering what it tastes like.”

Rebecca was all too aware that they had a captive audience. Dominique was watching from the corner of her eye as she worked with Mrs. Krumhansle. Mrs. Krumhansle was even less discreet. Bob Wilkes sat at a weight machine across the room, halfheartedly lifting a dumbbell as he stared at them. She could almost hear him straining to catch a word or two of the conversation.

Jace smiled. It wasn’t his media smile. It wasn’t his playful smile. It was the smile he trotted out after an intimate encounter—lazy, disgustingly knowing. When he spoke, his voice was as warm and soft as flannel sheets. “What were you thinking about while
you
were staring at
my
mouth?”

“That’s it.” Rebecca bit the words off. She swung her arm toward her door. “Into my office. Now.”

“Gee, honey,” he teased, “can’t you wait until we get home?”

She thrust his crutches at him and stormed toward the office, barely resisting the urge to kick the door in. Jace followed, wincing—not at any pain in his knee, but at the thought of the tongue-lashing he was obviously going to get.

“I won’t stand for it, Jace,” Rebecca said as soon as the door clicked shut behind him. “I will not have you undermining my authority in this department. I agreed to work with you to rehabilitate your knee. The least you can do is respect my position here.”

“I do.”

“Oh, really?” she asked, pacing back and forth behind her desk.

“Yes,” he said evenly. “I have all the respect in the world for your position here, Becca. I don’t think a little teasing is going to undermine your authority. Don’t your other patients tease you a little every once in a while?”

They did, but the big difference was, she didn’t have a past with any of her other patients. Their sometimes ribald comments meant nothing to her, they were sheer bravado. Jace’s were sheer torture.

“It’s your entire attitude that bothers me, Jace,” she said, calling on the vast reserves of anger she had stored up against him. The only thing that made any sense to her in this situation was keeping him at least an arm’s length away. “I won’t have you turning my therapy department into a three-ring circus. You came here to work, not to hold fan club meetings.”

“Hey, I didn’t invite those people in here,” he said, lifting his hands innocently.

“Tell me you weren’t enjoying the attention,” Rebecca said sarcastically.

“I’m a minor celebrity. It goes with the territory. What was I supposed to do? Shoot them? Ward them off with a rope of garlic? Maybe I should have come in incognito.” His eyes twinkled with sudden mischief. “I could have worn my Tommy Lasorda costume.”