The Road Home, Page 3

  “For what exactly?”

  “You’ll see.” When he reached for her hand, she pulled it back.

  “I’m not big on surprises,” she said.

  And she wasn’t big on touching, either. He wondered if he could change both.

  He paid for the groceries, loaded them and Melissa back into his truck and drove through town. He went past the second and then the last stoplight, and then went past the turn to get onto the main highway.

  And he kept going, heading directly toward the still green and beautiful rolling hills.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I promised you dinner.”

  She gazed at the wide-open scenery, but said nothing. As far as the eye could see there was nothing around but gentle hills lined with occasional fencing, holding in horses and cattle. They turned onto a dirt road that rose and twisted like the gnarled oak trees they’d passed.

  And then they finally came to a small lake. Jason had been born and bred in this area, and though he’d spent the past twelve years away, he still had fond memories here. Once upon a time while still in high school, he’d come here to make out. Not that he had any hopes for that tonight.

  Melissa watched him guardedly. “What’s here?”

  “A picnic.” He came around to help her down from the truck, then grabbed a blanket and the bag of food.

  She looked at the blanket, and then at him. “You’re not going to need that.”

  He laughed. “We’re going to eat on it.”

  “That’s all we’re doing on it.”

  “Right. No wild animal sex. I remember.”

  They sat on the blanket at the water’s edge. Melissa just as far from him as she could get. In her neat black trousers and crisp white blouse, surrounded by the brilliant blue of the calm water and the wild green of the hills lining the lake, she looked beautiful. Her face was shaded by the three oak trees they sat beneath, and her dark short hair, cut in neat little layers that flipped up so adorably they made his fingers itch to touch them, lifted lightly in the breeze.

  He poured the wine and took out the food, which they ate while she asked him about his work. “I should tell you, I’m a novelist,” he said, smiling at her surprise. “At the moment I’m trying my hand at a psychological thriller.”

  She set down her piece of chicken and licked her fingers, the little sucking sound her mouth made being the most erotic he’d ever heard. “What does a laid-back, easygoing guy like you know about terror?”

  The memory of his car accident flickered through him: fierce rain, a wild storm, slippery roads, a damn deer in the way, brakes not responding… The moment of stark horror as his car careened out of control toward the huge tree at the end of his driveway. Then being dragged from the wreckage by a wet, trembling Rose…and waking up days later in the hospital.

  What did he know of terror? Plenty. But he gave her an easy smile. “It’s fiction, Mel.”

  She laughed at herself, and he loved the sound of her amusement, getting the feeling that she didn’t do it very often.

  “What does your family think of what you do?” she asked.

  “My mom and dad are gone, and my brothers are in the army. They’re a little mystified by the fact I’d rather use a pencil than a gun, but they’re proud.” He brought out the cookies. “What about you? Where’s your family?” He hated himself for asking when he already knew.

  She busied herself cleaning up her trash. “I grew up in foster homes. It was okay,” she said quickly, probably used to being defensive about that.

  “And your real parents?”

  “I don’t know my father.” She shrugged. “And my mother…she’s around. That’s why I was never put up for adoption. The social workers kept hoping my mother would eventually take me back. Just so happens she didn’t get around to wanting to do it until I was already grown.”

  He handed her a cookie. “In the name of being bad.” Their fingers brushed, and she pulled away.

  “Why do you do that?” he asked quietly. “Shy away from my touch?”

  “I don’t know you very well.”

  “And if you did…would that change? You not liking to be touched?”

  She looked away. “I’m not much of a people person. I’d have figured if you’d learned anything about me in the past few days, it’d have been that.”

  “Mel…”

  He waited until she looked at him and gave her a slow smile meant to charm. He handed her another cookie. “Why did you think I came back with that damn parrot?”

  She sighed. “I knew there was nothing wrong with that parrot. I thought you came back with it simply to—” She let out a little laugh and sipped her wine.

  “To…?”

  “To see me.”

  “I did.” And that was the truth. He didn’t want this to be just for Rose anymore. He wanted to do it for himself. He wanted to get to know her because she was the real deal. A real woman, who was into her job, who really cared about what she was doing with her life.

  And then there was something else. Unlike everyone else he’d come across in the past six months, she hadn’t mentioned the scar rolling down the right side of his face. There’d been so many questions, from both strangers and friends, all of which drove him nuts.

  But not from Melissa.

  Bottom line, she threw him off-kilter. More than his looming deadline, more than his promise to Rose, more than anything.

  And he had no idea what to do with that.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE NEXT DAY at the clinic was hectic for Melissa. Her waiting room was constantly full, and though she did the best she could, and everyone was extremely polite about the wait, she felt she could have done more. Should have done more.

  She really did need help in the front office. She needed someone other than herself to sign people in and organize all the paperwork. Soon, she promised herself.

  Finally she saw her remaining patients—a chicken with a limp, a cat who’d swallowed a dime and a pet rat with a broken tail. She was attempting to figure out how to print the next day’s schedule when the door opened again.

  The biggest Saint Bernard she’d ever seen bounded into the room, tongue hanging out, ears flopping, big body exuberant as he tugged in his master by the leash.

  Melissa followed the leash up—and burst out laughing.

  “Now hold on, Bear—” Jason was jerked to the middle of the room, where he shot her a rather sheepish glance, just before he was hauled over to her by the dog. “Hi,” he managed, just as he was jerked again, to the far corner this time.

  “Let me guess… Bear has a problem.” She knew she should question him about this, his third and most obvious visit, but quite honestly, she felt herself enjoying the game. Coming around the desk, she bent down and whistled softly. The huge dog gave one bark of joy and then galloped over to her, dragging Jason in its tow.

  “Watch out,” he warned as she let the dog sniff her hand before petting him. “He’s a monster of a dog with no idea of his own strength. He’d just as soon drown you by drooling than anything else, and his entire mission in life has been screwing up mine today.”

  “Sit,” Mel commanded Bear quietly. The dog sat.

  She’d already noticed his limp. “Shake.”

  The dog lifted his sore paw, and when she took it in her hands and studied it, he let out a soft cry. “Oh, you poor thing.”

  “I know,” Jason said with a long-suffering sigh as he hunkered down next to her. “I’m exhausted.”

  “I’m talking about the dog.”

  “Oh. Right.” Jason watched her let Bear lick her face. “You going to let me kiss you like that?”

  She ignored the flutter in her tummy and looked into Jason’s laughing eyes. “Are you as good at it as he is?”

  “Better,” he promised silkily. “Much better.”

  She had no doubt of that, but given the way her pulse had kicked into gear, it would be nothing short of dangerous to find out. “You promi
sed no kissing.”

  “No, I promised no wild animal sex.”

  She let out a nervous laugh. “Promise no kissing.”

  “Mel—”

  “Promise.”

  He sighed. “No kissing.”

  “Thank you.” She drew a steadying breath. “Bear has a nasty splinter.” She got to her feet, and so did the dog, quietly now, right at her side. She’d always had this effect on animals, and they on her. They calmed her soul, soothed her in a way no person had ever managed. And yet she never took it for granted, and when it happened, like right now, she felt…needed. She had a purpose. “Come,” she said, and moved to a patient room.

  Bear obediently followed.

  Jason stared at her. “How in the hell do you do that?”

  “I have the touch.”

  His eyes darkened. “Do you?” he murmured in a voice that had the opposite of the calming, soothing effect dealing with Bear did.

  Her smile slowly faded, replaced by a shakiness in the knees, damp palms and heart palpitations, not to mention a clenching in parts that hadn’t clenched in a good long time. “Jason—”

  Bear sat down in the room and lifted his paw with a soft whine.

  Melissa, who couldn’t stand to see anything in pain, looked at the examining table. No way was she going to be able to get the dog up there—

  Just as she thought it, Jason squatted down, wrapped his arms around Bear and lifted him to the table. Melissa found her gaze drawn to the muscles straining in his arms as he did, and when she lifted her eyes to his face, she found him smiling. “I might be a writer now,” he said in that slow, lazy drawl. “But I still have the strength of a farm boy.”

  He sure did. She busied herself removing the splinter from Bear, who licked her face every few seconds or so, bathing her in doggie breath and doggie love, which she could never get enough of. Finally she tossed the tweezers into the sink and tried not to watch as Jason lifted Bear down.

  The dog promptly let out a bark that assured everyone within earshot he was on the trail of something good, and ran out the door, and because Jason had left the front door ajar, Bear ran right out that, as well, on his way to freedom.

  “Damn it,” Jason said, taking off after him.

  Melissa went, too, knowing she had no more patients, and that the small-town atmosphere meant she didn’t have to worry about leaving the place unattended for a few minutes. Directly behind the converted house lay a wooded area, beyond which was a river and more wide-open space.

  Naturally this was where Bear was headed, hot on the trail of a squirrel or whatever had caught his fancy. As they ran after him, Melissa was grateful for her daily torturous run she took in the mornings before heading into work, and couldn’t help but notice that Jason ran with ease, as well, that long, leanly muscled body working like a well-honed machine.

  She forced her eyes straight ahead, and on Bear, whom they caught up with when he treed his squirrel and sat at the base of the trunk barking his head off.

  Jason bent for his leash, and gave the dog a long-suffering look. “Buddy, the less energy expelled on any given day, the better.” When Melissa laughed at that, he cocked a brow. “You don’t agree?”

  There was a path that she knew wound its way along the narrow river, and by silent agreement, they started walking. “You act like you’re so lazy, but I just ran alongside you flat out for a quarter of a mile and your breathing hardly changed at all.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Maybe I’m just in decent shape.” He turned to face her, halting their walk. Shaded by an oak tree, listening to the river run, watching him watch her, it occurred to her she was smiling. For no special reason other than he made her want to smile. His hand settled at the crook of her elbow and she didn’t shrug him off.

  “Just because I talk slow,” he said, with a grin, “doesn’t mean I move slow.”

  She realized his other hand had come up and made itself at home on her hip. A lock of his hair had fallen over his forehead, and before she even realized what she meant to do, she stroked it out of his face. Her fingers came in contact with his warm, tanned skin, then the pale ridge of his long, jagged scar. She lightly ran one finger down—

  “Don’t.” Lifting a hand, he pulled hers away.

  “I’m sorry.” She might not know much about relating to another human being, other than for the most basic of needs, but here, finally, was something she could understand. She was good at healing, good at dealing with pain and suffering, though it wasn’t pain in his eyes but embarrassment.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered again, and lifted her free hand to touch him once more, wanting him to be soothed at her touch as an animal would. “I hate to think of how much agony this must have cost you, and not too long ago, given the texture of the skin and the degree to which it still has to heal. Are you using anything to reduce the scarring?”

  He let out a shaky laugh, and dropped his forehead to hers. “Melissa.” Another low, rather mirthless laugh. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

  “How about talk to me?”

  He lifted his head and searched her gaze, she had no idea for what, but he must have found what he was looking for, because he nodded. “Yeah, I’m using something the doctor gave me for the scarring.” He was quiet a moment, then told her the rest. “I was coming home late one night about six months ago. I’d taken a trip for some research, and the flight home had been long and exhausting, the drive up from LAX even more so. I think I was half-asleep when Bambi darted out in front of me.

  “I didn’t want to kill it so I swerved. My first mistake. I wrapped both myself and the car around an oak tree, and because I’d removed my seat belt about a moment before to reach into the back for a soda—my second mistake—I took my second flight that day. Right out of the car and into the air, and smack into another oak tree.”

  “My God.”

  “Well, I didn’t exactly meet God, but I did see a bright light. When I woke up three days later, I was told I would have died before I’d even gotten to the hospital if it hadn’t been for one very curious woman who’d come out in the middle of the night to see why a horn was going off.”

  “Oh, Jason.” Her heart stuttered for him. “How terrifying.”

  “Without her and her cell phone, I’d have been goners—Hey,” he said softly, seeing that her eyes had filled. “Hey, I’m good now.” He covered her fingers, which were still touching his scar. “Or as good as I get.”

  “Which is pretty damn good,” she whispered fiercely, and blinked back her tears. He wouldn’t want them.

  “Mel…” He cupped her face, leaned in a little, and unbelievably, she leaned in, too. And then suddenly he was ripped away from her when Bear found a new squirrel to chase.

  Melissa took a step back and watched Jason try to wrestle the one-hundred-and-fifty-pound dog to a stop. He managed it, but not until he was knee-deep in the river. By the time he splashed his way out, Melissa was laughing so hard she could hardly stand.

  “Oh, you think that’s funny.” He came toward her. “Me getting all wet.”

  “Well, yes—” She broke off with a startled squeak when he dove for her. Whirling, she went running, laughing when both man and dog tackled her down to a patch of wild grass. Turning, she found herself in Jason’s arms, staring up into his eyes.

  She looked at his mouth, and he let out a low groan. “I promised,” he said, his hands coming up to cup her face, his thumb skimming over her lower lip in a way that made her ache. “I promised no kissing.”

  The restraint was costing him. She could see a little tic in his jaw, feel the tension in his body as it covered hers, and it made her melt as nothing else would have. “That was earlier.” Slipping her arms around his neck, she brought his head down. Their lips connected for one glorious heartbeat before Bear thrust his large face between them, eyeing them with bloodshot eyes. Then he tossed his head back and let out an earsplitting howl.

  Jason groaned, then rose to his feet, pul
ling Melissa to hers. “Damn dog, you’re supposed to help my cause, not ruin it.”

  With the moment passed, Mel had a hard time looking him in the eye. She felt the need to run, far and fast. “I’ve…got to go, I left the clinic door unlocked.”

  “Mel—”

  She took a step back. “Goodbye, Jason.”

  She ran back to the front steps of the clinic, then watched as Jason loaded Bear up into his truck. He waved to her as he drove off, but all she could do was stand there.

  She wished she could still taste him.

  As she was thinking this, it occurred to her she could hear something inside the clinic, and thinking someone had let themselves in to wait for her, she entered the front door and scanned the waiting room. Someone had taken over the arduous job of sweeping up the animal hair that had been shed there during the day. The chairs were all neatly lining the walls again, the retail shelving unit nicely organized.

  The front desk had been taken care of, as well, with the paperwork that she’d so hastily tossed around all day piled in the proper stacks. Sitting behind the desk, fingers tapping away on the keyboard of her computer sat a lean, willowy, attractive woman in her mid-forties. She had short, dark hair layered around her face, and bright green eyes. She smiled nervously. “Hello, Melissa.”

  “Hello, Mother.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “MELISSA.” Rose stood up and smoothed her sundress, showing off her still-fit dancer’s body. “I hope you don’t mind, I just wanted to help.”

  “Actually, I—” Do mind. Melissa moved closer to the desk, but she could see just how organized Rose had gotten her. The schedule for tomorrow was in the printer tray. The box of office supplies on the floor had been put away. Suddenly the area looked like a functioning receptionist area. She hadn’t been gone more than half an hour, but apparently her mother had some serious office talents. “How did you do all this?”

  “It’s easier if you clean up as you go, that’s all. Maybe you could put each patient sheet away as they leave, open the mail as it comes—”

  “I don’t have time for that.” She glanced at Rose. “I don’t have time for you.”