When You Were Mine [Second Chances 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) (8 page)

Jamie shook his head and said, “You lasted longer than I thought you would.”

“I’ve learned to be more patient. Now, spill.”

He arched an eyebrow and said, “Oh yeah. I can totally see that.”

Cora went on impulse and stuck her tongue out at him.

A grin spread across Jamie’s face as he said, “Mature.”

“Stop stalling.”

“Okay. So do you remember Dave Martell? You met him a couple of times at work things?”

“Dark-haired guy, kinda sleazy?”

Jamie blinked in surprise at her assessment and said, “Yeah. That describes him to a tee, actually.”

“He hit on me once while you were in the bathroom. It was awkward,” Cora said. “The Christmas party at that little vineyard in Simi Valley.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Jamie asked, curious.

“I was so gone over you at that point,” Cora answered. “It was kind of sad that he even thought he had a chance.”

Jamie smiled at the memory and said, “The feeling was definitely mutual, Cora.”

There was a moment of awkward silence before he continued, “Anyway. So he got promoted at the same time I did. There was a fairly big airline campaign that we both wanted. We were in competition for it. He made a bet and, in a moment of stupidity, I accepted it. He won.”

Cora winced and said, “That must have sucked.”

“Not too badly,” Jamie answered, laughing a little bit. “I ended up with a stupid tattoo and my first big national campaign out of it. The airline campaign was the runner up prize. Remember the fragrance Pure Pleasure? I ended up spearheading the team that launched that.”

“Impressive,” Cora said. “So you ended up with a pink hummingbird on your ass and a huge opportunity.”

“He was always really competitive with me, which was odd. I didn’t realize how much so,” Jamie said. After a brief pause, he added, “It’s just one of many reasons that I’m glad to be home. The politics got to be too much. When they offered me a VP position, I figured I either needed to drink the Kool-Aid, so to speak...or get out.”

The words seemed to fall out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

“I’m glad you’re back. I really missed you.”

Jamie reached across the table and gave her hand a squeeze. His eyes soft, he said, “I’ve missed you too, Cora. Too much.”

Cora’s heart raced as their eyes locked. She could feel the familiar buzzing tension between them.

Then, as if he realized that he was overstepping the agreed upon boundaries, Jamie withdrew his hand and simply said, “It’s great to be home.”

Cora nodded, then picked her fork back up and continued to eat.

Things were definitely heading in a direction that was nowhere near
just
friendly. Was she ready for that? She wondered if they were capable of taking things slowly, given their history. Maybe, she decided, it was time to find out.

Jamie stood next to Cora at her kitchen sink and said, “You need a dishwasher.”

She nudged him in the ribs with her elbow as she rinsed and then stacked a plate in the dish drainer. A grin on her face, she said, “I’ve got a dishwasher right here.”

He narrowed his eyes and twisted the faucet toward her, then angled it up so she was hit with a light spray of water, then quickly righted it.

When he heard her outraged gasp, he hazarded a look at her, trying to ascertain just how pissed she was...and took a spray of water right to the face. When he heard her giggle, he realized he had a fight on his hands.

Moving a hand over his face, he mopped away the water and then wrestled with Cora for control of the pull-out sprayer. Finally, he managed to pull the sprayer from her hand, give her a quick spray to the face, and then pin her back against the counter.

They were both panting from the exertion, but laughing. When their eyes locked, the smile slowly slid from Cora’s face. He moved a hand up to push a few strands of wet hair out of her face. His eyes dropped to her mouth for a moment. Regretfully, when the hands that had been pressing against his chest dropped, he backed away.

He watched as she pushed herself away from the counter and moved toward a room off to the side of the kitchen. A moment later, she appeared carrying two towels. She wiped her face off with one and passed him the other.

As he dried his hair, he said, “This is harder than I thought it would be.”

She nodded, a pained look on her face, and said, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do, Cora,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

Satisfied that his hair was dry enough, he asked, “What should I do with this?”

Silently, she reached out and took it from him and disappeared briefly into the laundry room again.

When she came out she asked, “Can I explain?”

Even though he knew what was coming, he nodded slowly and said, “Okay.”

She took his hand and led him to the couch. As he settled into same seat he’d been in before, she settled next to him and turned to face him partially.

After taking a deep breath, she told him the whole story. It was what he’d read online, which was awful, but worse. She’d talked about having to go and get tested, the press on her lawn. Having to talk to her father about all of it.

Admittedly, the testing was something he hadn’t even considered. He’d breathed a sigh of relief when she’d told him that she’d ended up testing negative for everything. The thought that she could have inadvertently gotten anything from that toolbag was a horrifying thought.

Eventually, she said, “So, that’s the deal. I’m just now moving on with my life and I don’t want to jump into anything too quickly. I don’t want either one of us to get hurt.”

She looked so hesitant, so lost, that he pulled her into his arms and held her. After a moment, the stiffness left her body and she relaxed against him with a sigh. As he stroked a hand over her hair, he said, “I meant what I said before. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Her voice was so soft that he barely heard her say, “I want you, but...”

“Let’s just take our time,” Jamie said, brushing his lips across the top of her head.

* * * *

He was going completely insane. It was official.

It had been two weeks since he’d helped Cora install her sink. They ended up cuddled on the couch watching movies until the late hours of the night. They had seen each other several times since then. They had gone out to dinner, been to the movies, and done their share of hanging out at their respective places.

A few nights ago they had decided to go to the Santa Monica Pier. Neither of them had been in years. They got dinner at the tapas place near the end of the pier and wandered through the shops. Seeing the look of relaxed happiness on her face had been great. It had reminded him of the old, carefree Cora.

She was still a little bit leery about the prospect of dating him. Given her history, he understood that. He was going to let her make the next move, even if it killed him. And at this rate, it very well might. Each night had ended with nothing more than a chaste kiss on the lips.

She had just canceled lunch plans on him. One of her patients was having a crisis and booked an emergency session. Between her pro bono work on the weekends and the emergency sessions that ended up being booked three times a week, she was working sixty hours a week. He had always known that she was dedicated, but seeing it in action was kind of impressive.

He refocused his attention on the ad he was designing for the dentist next door. He’d taken one look at his business card and offered him a free consultation. That had apparently done the trick, because he was able to book several more throughout the building via word of mouth.

So far he’d designed a new logo, new business card, and now they were working on a postcard mailer. He really enjoyed this part of his work more than anything else. It was incredibly rewarding to take the vague image that someone saw in their mind, and turn it into something real and tangible.

After he finished the proof he had been working on, he had emailed it over for approval. It was, he decided, time for lunch. He’d gotten to work at eight that morning and had worked steadily until three thirty without much of a break.

He moved back into the kitchenette and grabbed sandwich fixings from the fridge. He had dinner plans with Cora tonight. It was a little late in the day to order in. Ham and cheese would have to do, he decided.

After he finished up his sandwich, he fielded a call from the furniture vendor that was sending over his conference table. It had apparently been dropped during shipping and had a small scratch. The table was now on back order.

Because the table had been exactly what he wanted, he agreed to go look at it. If the scratch was superficial enough, he might be able to take it as is. Hopefully that would be the case. His conference room looked silly with a large open space, and several rolling chairs.

Quickly, he texted Cora to see if she’d be all right with going with him to look at the table. It wasn’t exactly an exciting evening. The only upside is that it was near a great barbeque place.

By the time that six rolled around, he had sent the proof to press along with the mailing list. The client had really liked it and was excited to move forward. The marketing piece would drop into mailboxes by the end of next week.

Ready to leave, he gathered up his laptop bag and locked up his office. As he made his way down the hall toward Cora’s office, he heard shouting. Unsure where it was coming from, he hurried the rest of the way to her office and pulled the door open.

What he found was an older man that looked to be drunk, or maybe on something. He wore a stained flannel and torn jeans. His wild hair and dirty skin made it difficult to tell how old he was.

He was shouting at Cora, who stood behind the receptionist’s desk, holding up her hands in a placating motion. Her face was completely blank with calm.

Jamie stood stock-still, not sure whether this was a patient. He sincerely hoped this wasn’t a common occurrence. He didn’t think he could take it.

“Sir,” Cora said, her voice shaky. “I’m not sure who you think I am but I don’t know you. I’d like to call someone who can help you, though.”

Jamie felt a pang in his chest, hearing the tremor in Cora’s voice. He took a quiet step toward the man.

“You bitch,” the man slurred. “You ruined my fucking life and you don’t even know who I am?”

Cora continued to hold up her hands in defense and stammer until Jamie saw the man take a step toward her. Closing the rest of the distance between them, Jamie grabbed his arm and cut him off. Quietly he said, “You need to go. Now. Or I’m calling the cops. You’re not welcome here.”

The man turned with a jolt, blinked at him blearily a few times, and then decided to heed the warning. Jamie had almost a foot on him and at least thirty pounds of muscle.

With one last look at Cora he pointed and said, “We’re not through here, bitch.”

Jamie forced him roughly toward the door and said, “Yes, you are. Get the fuck out of here. Now. Don’t come back.”

Muttering curses, the man hurried down the hallway with surprising speed. Jamie waited until he disappeared down the hall before he closed her lobby door and then locked it.

Moving over to Cora, he put his hands on her shoulders and immediately examined her. He asked, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you at all?”

It looked like she was still in a daze, but managed to shake her head no.

Jamie sighed and cupped her face. He used his thumb to tilt her chin up so he could see her eyes. “Cora, baby. Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I’m okay. I’m not hurt.”

He stroked a hand over her hair and said, “I need to call security. Can we do that from my office? I’d prefer if we didn’t stay here until I’m sure he’s gone.”

“Okay,” she said as she grabbed her purse from off of the reception desk. “I was on my way to come find you anyway. Aren’t we supposed to look at a table?”

“Let’s go make the call first,” he said with no intention of following through on his plans. He could see the hand that held her purse was shaking.

He took the keys from her hand, opened the door. After making sure the hallway was empty, he locked the door to her office and quickly ushered her toward his.

When he unlocked the door and opened it, the lights in the main lobby came on automatically. He locked the front door, gave her one last look, then flipped on a light in his office and said, “Be right back.”

He strode to desk, picked up his phone, and dialed the security desk. When the guard answered, he asked, “That man in the flannel shirt. Dark, crazy hair. Torn, dirty jeans. Did he leave?”

The guard said, “He did. Why? What happened?”

“He threatened Dr. Blanchard. Please make sure he’s not allowed on the property again.”

“My god. Is she okay? Did he hurt her?” the guard asked as he typed furiously.

“She’s okay. At night. If I’m not here, can you escort her to her car?”