Smooth Irish (Book 2 of the Weldon Series) (11 page)

“Breathe,” Nan encouraged her patient.

The young woman’s flushed face contorted with pain,
and she cried out. Up until this point she’d remained focused on
her determination for as “natural” a birth as possible. Now in the
Transition Stage, the woman wavered.

“I can’t,” the woman moaned. “It hurts.”

“I know, but you’re almost there. You can do this.”
Nan squeezed her patient’s hand, giving what support she could. The
father, who’d originally planned to be his wife’s birthing coach,
had been banished to the waiting room. The man fainted every time
his wife had a contraction. Nine times out of ten, it seemed to Nan
that when a woman needed a man the most during life’s trials, the
man let her down.

“I’ll breathe with you, remember what they taught
you in Lamaze, focus and breathe. He, he, he, ho.” Nan guided her
patient in the short and long breath patterns until the woman’s
contraction eased. Then she bathed the woman’s flushed face with a
cool cloth and received a thankful smile before the woman shut her
eyes to rest a minute.

Nan checked the fetal monitor and her patient’s
vital signs on the various machines. Once she determined that all
was well, her mind immediately turned to Jackson. Before she’d run
into Jackson Saturday night, sensual thoughts of him had been a
problem, but since he’d kissed her again, her imagination had run
completely amok. His preposterous proposal for sex had wiggled in
the back of her mind like a worm at the end of a fishhook and she
felt akin to a hungry fish, a very hungry fish.

A fish that would just have to stay hungry. She
wouldn’t see him again. Much less get naked and live out all of her
fantasies. What would be the point?

Getting into a relationship without even the plan of
a future commitment would lead to nowhere but heartache alley. Even
if Jackson came around and tried to make a go of a relationship, he
still wasn’t going anywhere with his life, so the ending would be
the same. That path had destroyed her mother. Passion didn’t put
food on the table and clothe children.

So no matter how Jackson made her
feel,
she couldn’t
.

Relieved she’d finally settled the issue; she drew a
deep breath.

Candy stuck her head into the birthing room. “How’s
she doing?”

“Good. We’re at nine centimeters. Contractions are
running a little over two minutes apart. Is Dr. Schwartz here
yet?”

“Yes, she’s scrubbing up.”

“Good. I think this one’s going to come in a
hurry.”

The woman in labor popped her eyes open and
struggled to sit a bit straighter. “Before lunch?” she said
hopefully. “I’m starving. I don’t think I can face another ice
chip.”

Nan smiled as she adjusted the mechanical bed
higher. “Candy, call dietary.” Nan checked the chart for the
doctor’s orders. “She can have a regular diet after she’s had the
baby.”

“I’ll do it right now. Stop by the break room after
the blessed event. You won’t believe what’s been going on all
morning.” Candy dipped back out the door before Nan could question
her.

An hour later, Nan left her patient the proud mother
of a healthy baby girl. She ran down to the cafeteria and grabbed a
deli-bag for lunch, then headed back up to the break room next to
the Nurse’s Station to eat. Not only did she feel the beginnings of
a headache coming on, but after Saturday night’s fainting disaster
she’d decided to lay off coffee and chocolate bars for lunch. On
her way through the nurses’ station to the break room, Nan
immediately noticed the aura of excitement buzzing from her
co-workers.

Candy angled up from her seat and motioned for Nan
to join her. “Hurry before you miss them. We think they’re getting
ready to break for lunch.”

“Who?” Nan murmured, walking toward Candy.

“Prime filet,” one of the other nurses said, keeping
her eyes fastened to the picture window directly across from the
table. Surprisingly, everyone on break sat on the same side of the
table instead of around it facing each other as usual. Whatever
they were looking at through the big picture window held their rapt
attention.

“Prime what?” Nan placed her tray on the table to
the left and opposite them, since there was no more room on the
other side and pulled her chair out.

“Prime everything,” came Candy’s dreamy reply.

“Especially the one on the far left,” Darla said.
“Oh, honey. He’s Prime rib, prime buns, prime cut. No doubt he’s
got a prime p—”

“Pectoral muscles,” Candy piped in. Everyone at the
table looked naughtily at each other then burst into laughter.

Nan shook her head and turned to see what had sent
her co-workers off the deep end. Her knees gave out, and she sank
hard into her chair. Not more than twenty feet out the window stood
a group of six men, all congregated by a huge water cooler on the
back of a pickup truck. A work crew. It was Monday and
groundbreaking day for the hospital’s new children’s wing. Six
dirty, sweaty, well-muscled, young men. The one on the left, the
tallest of the group, was in the process of pouring a huge cup of
water over his familiar head and Nan’s stomach clenched. Rivulets
sluiced over Jackson Weldon’s chiseled face, down his broad
shoulders, and over his ripped torso. He was naked from the waist
up. He shook his head vigorously, and ran his hands through his
dark hair before getting more water and scrubbing his arms.

“See,” Candy said, a little breathless. “Great
pecs.”

Jackson turned his back and donned a blue denim work
shirt.

“Great buns,” said Sarah.

“Yeah, Jackson’s are the best,” Nan said without
thinking. Her tone conveyed the familiarity of a lover, probably
because she’d fantasized about him so much. She looked quickly at
her friends, hoping they were too distracted by the view to
notice.

No such luck. Every one of them zeroed in on her.
Nan gulped her diet Coke. She was in big trouble. Her headache
began to pound.

“You know him!” Candy said, her eyes rivaling
saucers for size. She glanced at Jackson again and then at Nan.
“You know him intimately?”

Face red, Darla fluttered her hands with excitement.
“Oh, oh, oh, this is like finding the Diet Coke man naked in your
hot tub—it’s just too good to be true. You have to tell all. Where
did you meet him? What did you say his name was?”

Every eye in the place looked as if she was their
fairy godmother about to make their every dream come true. She
loosened her tongue and plunged ahead before her cowardly denials
could speak up. These women had chosen her to be their voice for
very real problems, she couldn’t lie to them. “His name is Jackson.
Jackson Weldon. He’s my best friend’s brother-in-law. I met him at
her wedding a little over a year ago. You know how it goes. He was
best man and I was the maid of honor and I caught the bouquet and
he caught the garter and we had to do the picture thing where he
puts the garter on me.”

All of her co-workers nodded, their gazes full of
expectation. “That’s how I met him,” Nan said, wincing when her
voice warbled a little. Standing up, she went to take her leftovers
to the trash, only to discover she hadn’t eaten anything yet.

“No, no, no,” Candy said, getting up from her chair
to shoo Nan back into hers. “You’re not getting away so fast,
besides, you need to eat. You’re looking a little pale. From your
tone of voice, you sound as if you need us.”

Nan was sure she had to be beet red.

“Candy’s right,” Sarah said. “All joking aside. If
you need to talk we’re here, girlfriend. I’m sensing some major
things left unsaid. You’ve always listened to our woes and
bolstered us up when we were down. It’s about time you counted on
us for once.”

Nan blinked. Had she done that, only helped and
never shared? Had she kept herself isolated? Yes, a small voice
inside of her peeped up and then grew louder. Nan drew a deep
breath. “We dated then stopped dating because he wants a live by
the moment kind of thing and I didn’t want to go down a nowhere
road. He wants to date again.” Nan glanced out the window, only to
find that the men had left, gone to lunch apparently.

“I knew it was too good to be true. All those great
looks can’t make up for a love’em and leave’em mentality. You did
the right thing,” Darla said.

* * *

Nan walked in from work and saw Jackson’s sunglasses
on the table in the hall. She picked them up, her body tingling
with the memory of his mouth and his hands upon her naked breast,
touching her, making her feel more of a woman than she’d ever felt
before.

Geez, when had her practicality turned to melodrama?
She needed a damn cold shower. Marching to her bedroom, she tossed
his mirrored glasses on her dresser and glared at them. How dare he
mess up her life like this? All this sex stuff was driving her
crazy. She didn’t want a cold shower. She wanted a hot bath.
Defiantly, she stripped and filled the tub with piping hot water
and honeysuckle oil.

Sinking into the heat she glared at Jackson’s
glasses peeping at her.

No one knew she was here, and she’d never tell a
soul that she had come. She had saved years for this. The small
town where life kept passing her by was a thousand miles away. They
all thought she was nursing a sick friend, instead, she was nursing
her starved soul. She lay on a cushioned chair on the beach, nude,
soaking up the sun as the breeze caressed her like a lover. During
the week she’d been here, her skin had tanned to a sensual dark and
her peach nipples had turned golden. Her whole body glistened and
waited, wanting more than the breeze could satisfy.

She knew he watched. He had every
day. The man whose beach
house was next to
the one she rented. She’d seen him come and go in his expensive
cars. Seen him on his deck watching. It made her feel deliciously
naughty.

Suddenly, something blocked the sun’s heat and she
opened her eyes. He stood there, raven-haired and tanned. He was
nude as well, only his eyes were hidden behind the mirrored
glasses. But she didn’t need to look into his eyes to gauge his
appreciation. He advertised it as only a man could. And my, did he
advertise well.

She felt a moment of uncertainty,
as if she shouldn’t be here. But all of her life she had waited,
waited for that moment
of excitement that
stayed just beyond her staid grasp.

This wasn’t about love. Love always passed her by.
This was sex--pure and simple. This was about the moment, and she
forced herself to grab it even though her heart thundered at the
thought.

“You want me, baby. Don’t you?” She ran a finger
from her lips down between her breasts.

“Depends on what you’re offering, sugar.” He leaned
over and followed her finger with his. She had to force herself to
stay still beneath the heat of his touch.

Her blood roared in her ears and liquid fire licked
at her desire. What did she say now? Her mind went blank.

“A seat?” She slid her legs to one side so he could
sit down.

His answering laugh was deep and full. “That’ll do
for a start.” Instead of sitting where she’d made room for him, he
ran a hand down her leg, caught hold of her ankle and slid her leg
back to rest along the edge of the chair.

“This suits me better,” he said as he nudged her
legs off each side of the chair and sat facing her, his knees to
her knees.

She gasped and sat up straight. She was completely
open to him and he took his time lifting his gaze to hers.

“What’s your name, sugar?”

She licked her lips, her mouth dry. “Nan. And
yours?”

“Just call me Jack.” He cupped her breasts in his
hands and thumbed her nipples. She gasped again, automatically
arching to him.

“Relax, sugar. We aren’t going to do anything you
don’t want to do.” He gently pressed her back against the lounge to
where she was almost lying down in from of him. “Today, I think we
won’t worry about anything else except tasting each other.”

His hand slid from her breast and moved down the
soft expanse of her stomach until his fingers disappeared into the
curls of her sex. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you sugar? You’d like
me tasting you, making you hot, so hot all you can do is--

An insistent knock reverberated through her
apartment. Nan sat up from her bath, shocked and her body
throbbing. Someone impatiently knocked on her door again. Her eyes
flew to Jackson’s sunglasses on her dresser. Was he back to get
them?

Pulling on her fuzzy robe, much as she had done just
the other morning, she glanced through the peephole and opened the
door with a sense of disappointment. “Brad?”

Brad looked up from his watch and frowned. “Nan?
You’re not ready?

“Ready?” she said, shaking her head confused. She
was ready but not for Brad. “For what?” She opened the door wider
and Brad stepped inside.

“Our date. Remember Saturday night at the banquet, I
told you I wanted to show you something. I believe I said I’d pick
you up at six. Surely you didn’t forget. That would be so unlike
you.”

“Sorry, I guess I did. I had a hectic day at
work.”

“That’s rough. Can you hurry? We’ve an appointment
with the real estate agent in twenty minutes.”

Nan felt as if she’d drifted into the Twilight Zone.
“I’m afraid you’ve lost me.”

“I’ve bought a house. Well, I will have by tomorrow
afternoon. The real estate agent is giving me one more walk through
before I close on it. I’d like you to see it and give me your
opinion.”

A house? They'd shared one kiss and he wanted her
opinion of a house? Nan opened her mouth and shut it. She supposed
it would be rude to decline.

"I'll be ready in a minute." She swung around and
headed back to her bedroom where she threw on some clothes, ever
conscious of Jackson’s mirrored glasses watching her as she dressed
to go with Brad. She could still feel the heat of that damn
beach.