The Collar, Page 20

  beautiful to ethereal. She made it hard to breathe.

  “Oh, thank God,” she said.

  He leaned a hip against the countertop and crossed his arms. “I’m sure you have lines, rules, and expectations already planned out?” he asked, half joking.

  “I have a few suggestions.”

  He smiled. “Of course you do.”

  “Let’s have no lines, rules, or expectations.”

  He didn’t even try to cover his shock. “Do I know you?”

  She playfully held out a hand. “Hi, I’m Dena J. I’m rich as sin, the daughter of a senator, and a lawyer who has no interest in becoming a superior court judge. I’m outgoing, have a sarcastic sense of humor, and tend to get into trouble easily.”

  He threw his head back and laughed.

  She beamed. “Your turn.”

  “Hi, Dena J.,” he said, shaking her hand. “I’m Jeff Parks. I dropped out of high school, never went to college, and likewise have no interest in becoming a superior court judge. I’m introverted, hard to get to know, and have no originality in naming my dogs.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Parks.”

  Jeff kissed her hand, grinned, and for the first time in years, felt something a lot like hope.

  Dena hadn’t been sure how long she would stay. She’d told Cole not to go too far away, but he’d just laughed and said to text if she needed him, but he doubted she would. It pained her that Cole had more insight into Jeff than she did, because it’d taken only one look at Jeff’s expression when he opened the door to know he was glad to see her.

  After talking with Jeff in the kitchen, seeing him smile, and hearing him laugh, she couldn’t leave. She wanted to stay. Especially when the hospice nurse called and said she was running late.

  “Hell,” Jeff said, hanging up the phone. “I don’t know what to do with him.”

  She pressed her lips together. She knew he didn’t get along with his father. It must be hard on him now to return to this house to care for his terminally ill dad.

  “I can help,” she said.

  “You get queasy putting on a Band-Aid.”

  She opened her mouth to argue but promptly closed it. He was right.

  “He’s sleeping right now anyway,” Jeff said. “It might be that he’ll stay that way until the nurse shows up.”

  “What are the doctors saying?”

  “That it’s a matter of time.”

  “Didn’t they say that a few weeks ago?”

  He nodded. “He’s hanging on.”

  She touched his shoulder tentatively. “And you’re having to deal with this all on your own.”

  “You do what you have to do.” He said it with a shrug, like it was no big deal, but she saw the fatigue in his eyes and the tension in the way he held himself. He wasn’t sleeping well.

  The idea hit her so suddenly, she didn’t even think about it before letting the words flow from her lips. “Let me move in here and help.”

  She’d rarely seen Jeff speechless, but that did it.

  “What?” he finally asked.

  “Let me help. I’ll clean. I’ll … Well, I don’t cook, but I can help with anything else. At least if I’m here, you can get some sleep knowing someone else can watch your father for a while.”

  “You know this will be the opposite of putting our relationship to the side.”

  “I’m sorry.” She put her hand on his arm. “I wish I could take those words back.” And not just those. There were many words, said by both of them, she wished they could move beyond.

  His expression softened and he placed his hand over hers. “I’m sorry.” He exhaled deeply. “Yes, please stay.”

  Relief flooded her. “Do we need to make your dad lunch? How long will he sleep?”

  “Now I know aliens have invaded your body. You’re going to make lunch?”

  She was so glad easy-going Jeff was back. “When I said, ‘Should we make lunch,’ I meant ‘Should you make lunch.’”

  “Thank goodness. You really had me worried there for a minute.”

  Neither one of them moved, and they both seemed to remember at the same time that he still had his hand over hers. He squeezed it and brought his lips to hers. “Thank you.”

  Her heart pounded at the brush of his mouth on hers. “You’re welcome.”

  He pulled back with a moan, saying he needed to start the soup for lunch. He said it was one of the few foods his father could keep down. Dena watched as he worked in the kitchen. She’d always enjoyed being in the kitchen while he cooked. They used to chat while he prepared meals. Some of their most intimate discussions happened in his kitchen.

  But at that moment, she couldn’t settle on any one question to ask to get the conversation started. Once upon a time, words had flowed freely between them. Now it was just awkward.

  “Nathaniel said you thought you recognized the caller’s voice the last time he called,” Jeff finally said, breaking the silence. “Which makes me think I overlooked someone when I was going through your past cases.”

  She knew that possibility was eating him alive. “Seriously, I think it’s nothing or else he would have done something else by now. Escalated it somehow. Besides that one note, he’s still just calling. That’s probably all he means to do.”

  “Careful with the assumptions there, Counselor.” He ladled some steaming beef broth into a bowl to cool. “You and I both know nothing good comes from assuming things. And this time it’s dangerous.”

  “Yes, but in this case—”

  “Dena, stop.”

  His sharp tone surprised her so much, she actually stopped talking. She pursed her lips together and waited for him to continue.

  “We’re not going to change each other’s mind,” he said. “Let’s not argue about it.”

  He was right. She needed to learn to pick her battles when he was involved. The world wouldn’t collapse if she didn’t get the last word in. “Agreed.”

  “I have my notes on my laptop. We’ll go over them together in a bit. Right now I’m going to take this to Dad. There’s some leftover beef stew I cooked for my dinner last night if you’re hungry.”

  While he fed his father, she warmed up two bowls of stew. Nosing around the cabinets, she found some crusty bread and cut a few slices. When Jeff came back into the kitchen, she had everything prepared and laid out.

  He didn’t hide his delight at finding lunch waiting for him. To see him happy, especially over something as minor as lunch, made her heart hurt for him. Not to mention how it brought back memories of the ways she used to take care of him. When he had allowed it, that was.

  “Thanks,” he said, putting his dad’s used bowl in the sink and sitting at the table. “You didn’t have to warm mine up.”

  “I know.”

  They ate in silence for several minutes, which gave Dena the chance to study him closer. Fatigue lined his features in a way she had never seen before. The way he rolled his shoulders, almost stretching, was something she had rarely witnessed either.

  “How’s your dad’s business?” she finally asked. “Have you sold it yet?”

  He took a bite of stew, then replied. “It’s on the market.” He looked up at her. “How are things at home? How’s Daniel? I haven’t had a spare moment to talk with him.”

  “Great.” She blew a stream of air across her spoon. “Julie’s moving in with him.”

  He gave her one of his rare smiles. “I saw that coming. She’s perfect for him.”

  “He’s perfect for her.” She laughed. “Of course, she was giving him hell about something when I left.”

  “Good. He needs a woman with spunk.” His voice lowered. “How’s Sasha?”

  Dena nodded. “Believe it or not, I think she’s coming around. I recommended a therapist, and she’s been going a few times a week. I’m not sure, though, that I think it’s a good idea for her to get back involved just yet.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Master Greene’s just now a
llowing Peter back into group meetings.”

  “Really? Took him long enough.”

  “Exactly. I think it’d be best for one of them to integrate themselves back without the other.”

  Jeff nodded. “It’ll take a patient and determined Dom to work with Sasha when she’s ready.”

  “I think she’s already thinking about one in particular,” Dena said, remembering what Sasha had said about Cole.

  “Anyone I know?”

  “Maybe, but I would never break her confidence. Besides, it’d never work. The one she has her eye on would eat her for breakfast.”

  Jeff raised an eyebrow.

  “Not like that.” She swatted at his arm and then froze at the look he gave her. Her hand had just brushed his arm, but it was enough. Just the simplest touch was all it took to bring to mind all the history and intimacy between them.

  Not only that, but whenever she’d playfully swatted at him in the past, he’d dragged her over his knee for swats of his own. Just briefly, she saw his eyes darken with desire, and she knew he was remembering, too.

  “Want to play, do you?” he’d ask, and she would only be able to moan a reply as his hand traveled to land between her legs.

  How had they gone from that to where they now were? Eating leftover beef stew in a strange house, acting like strangers.

  She pushed back from the table. It was too hard to sit at the table with him during the awkward silence following her statement. “I can clean this up,” she said, picking up her bowl.

  He held out a hand to stop her. “Not this time.”

  She sat back down in her chair. “Not this time, what?”

  “You’re not going to leave just because you got uncomfortable. If we’re starting fresh, we’re starting fresh.”

  She thought just for a minute about telling him she wasn’t leaving because she was uncomfortable. After all, they didn’t know how much longer his father would sleep or what he might need when he woke up. But Jeff was right. They didn’t need to fall into old habits. And if she told him she wasn’t uncomfortable, he’d know it was a lie.

  She looked up and met his gaze. “Do I do that a lot?”

  “No, but you’ve done it enough.”

  “Sometimes it just seems easier to work things out alone. Inside my head.”

  “But when you do that, you shut me out.” He reached over and took her hand. “I want to help you work things out.”

  The sincerity in his eyes took her breath away. “When did you get so smart?”

  He grinned. “Hell if I know. It definitely didn’t happen in this house.”

  Looking around, she wondered how much had changed since he’d lived here as a boy.

  “Is it hard being back?” she asked.

  “I’ve had easier assignments.” He looked around the kitchen. “I’m going to sell this place as soon as I can. Be rid of it once and for all.”

  Silence fell over the room, and she thought he’d forgotten about her trying to get up until he spoke again.

  “Tell me what made you want to leave the table,” he said.

  She took the napkin from her lap and twisted it. “When I play swatted you, it made me remember what used to happen when I did that.”

  “When I’d pull you across my lap?”

  “Yes, and I knew you wouldn’t, but I remembered it and I figured you were remembering, too. And then it felt awkward, sitting at the table, both of us remembering what would have happened years ago and what would not be happening now.”

  “Would you like for me to pull you across my lap?”

  “Yes.” There was no way she would be able to lie about that, even if she were so inclined. “But with your father asleep in the living room and a hospice nurse on her way, it wouldn’t be the best thing to do at the moment.”

  He took in all her words without a change in his expression, and when she finished, he simply asked, “Do you still want to leave the table?”

  The truth surprised her. “No.”

  “See what a little bit of talking things through can do?” he said in a not-quite-teasing voice.

  “Hmmm.” She let her gaze travel over his chest downward to where his waist was hidden by the table. “Your turn. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  His voice grew low and rough. “I’m thinking I wish my father wasn’t taking a nap in the living room and a hospice nurse wasn’t on her way because I’d very much like to take you over my knee.”

  “I missed you,” she blurted out.

  He moved closer, his eyes locked on her lips. “I missed you, too.”

  She sucked in a breath and leaned forward. The napkin fell from her hands. It was probably a bad idea to kiss him. They had agreed to start over, start fresh. Kissing now might be too much too soon.

  She told herself that, but her body wanted him. And from his body language, he wanted her just as badly. The space between them grew smaller and the hint of their indecision hung between them.

  Just go for it.

  No sooner had she decided to throw caution to the wind and kiss him than his father called from the living room. It sounded like he was in pain.

  “Damn,” Jeff mumbled under his breath as he pulled away from her. “I’ll be there in a second, Dad.”

  “Now I’ll clean up the kitchen,” Dena said, gathering the bowls.

  Later that night, the awkwardness returned. After calling Cole and having him bring her bags to the house, she realized she hadn’t given much thought to the sleeping arrangements. Jeff had been an only child, and there were only two bedrooms in his small childhood home.

  Jeff picked up on her unease as she stood in the hallway with her suitcase. “I can take the couch. You can have the bedroom.”

  “I can’t kick you out of your bedroom.”

  “You’re not. I volunteer.”

  His old bedroom was furnished with a queen-sized bed. Technically, there wasn’t any reason for either of them to sleep on the couch. Or to sleep alone, for that matter. She had told herself they were going to take things slowly and make a fresh start, and if they shared a bed, she had a feeling the slow plan wouldn’t happen.

  Even so, she surprised herself by saying, “Don’t sleep on the couch. Share the bed with me.”

  His jaw tightened at her words, like he was restraining himself. “Only if you want.”

  “I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

  He nodded. “I’ll keep my hands to myself,” he said, before heading down the short hall to check on his father one more time.

  Dena took her suitcase into the small bedroom and took out her pajamas and toiletry bag. She’d packed her regular pajamas, a white cotton long-sleeved two-piece set. She wondered if she would have packed something different if she’d known she’d be spending the night in Jeff’s bed. With Jeff in it.

  He hadn’t returned to the bedroom when she was finished getting ready, so she climbed into the bed and scooted as close to the edge as possible. She was still hesitant and unsure enough about where they were headed that she didn’t want to tempt him. He’d said he’d keep his hands to himself, and she wasn’t going to make it difficult for him.

  He came into the bedroom ten minutes later and silently crawled into bed. She noticed he scooted as close as possible to his edge, too.

  “How’s he doing?” she asked.

  “He’s sleeping. He’s slept much more today than normal. I think it must really be the end this time.” He seemed to hesitate before