Sweet Surrender (17 page)

“Why didn’t your mom take him to court and sue him for support, or for being an asshole in general? That’s a crime, isn’t it?”

“General asshole, that’s a good name for him.” Jessie huffed a small laugh as she dabbed at her eyes carefully with a tissue. At this rate, she’d be back in the restroom for more repair work. “My mother wouldn’t ever discuss it. She always had the foolish hope that one day he’d come back. Even if she’d wanted to take action, we had no idea where he went and we sure as heck couldn’t afford to hire an investigator to track him down.”

“Jeez!” They sat in silence for a moment, contemplating how Lily could have continued to hold out hope, or want him back after his mistreatment, his abandonment, and his total disregard and neglect of the daughter they shared. “So, why does he want a divorce all of a sudden? Why now?”

“His girlfriend is threatening to leave him unless he mans up, marries her, and takes responsibility. How ironic is that?”

Stacy nodded, a shimmer of satisfaction in her gaze. “Put his balls in a vise, did she? Hot damn, the bastard deserves it!”

“Yeah, apparently the bastard moved in not long after he ditched me and mom. They have two daughters, a nine-year-old and the eldest, a girl who just turned fifteen.”

Stacy’s eyes got round. “Oh, honey.” She was sharp and it didn’t take a mathematician to figure out that if the girl was fifteen years old, her bastard of a father had cheated on his wife well before he left.

“The math doesn’t lie, does it? Mom was crushed. For your husband to leave without a word is a vicious blow, but to find out he’d knocked up his girlfriend while still sharing your bed, all while living under the same roof as your daughter—that broke her. It tainted any good memories she was holding onto.”

Stacy reached across the table and squeezed her hand, quietly supporting her while she disclosed her horrific family drama.

“I’m torn between heartache and rage. How could he throw us away? He unloaded his own unwanted wife and child just to take up with another. I don’t understand it and it’s like I’m thirteen with the same feelings of inadequacy surging back. Was it me? Did I do something to drive him away? Oh, Stacy, why couldn’t he have loved us?”

“Jess, I’m so sorry. Have you and your mom ever talked to someone professionally about this?”

“No, we couldn’t afford it.”

“You have good insurance now. I see a therapist I can recommend; she has really helped me. If you don’t want to see her, I could get her to recommend someone else for you.”

“I don’t know. I think him popping up so suddenly has stirred up old feelings.”

“That’s exactly why you should talk to someone. You repress them and someday, you’ll explode.”

“Thanks, I’m fine, really. Talking to you about it helps.”

“Well, at least tell me she hired a cutthroat lawyer and plans to take him to the cleaners, the rat bastard.”

“We haven’t gotten that far yet.” She flinched, grimacing in pain as her phone alarmed. When was that damn pill going to kick in? Grabbing it, she turned the ringer on silent. She had a meeting soon and had to get back. “I’ve got to go in a few; can we talk about something else, please?”

“Sure. Let’s talk about something fun like your wedding plans and the bachelorette party I get to throw for you.” Stacy rubbed her hands together gleefully and Jessie cracked her first smile all day. Stacy did that for her, easily cheering her up with her natural exuberance.

“Okay, but there are some rules—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. No strippers.” Her eyes twinkled as she gave Jessie a mischievous smile. “Don’t worry. I have something totally different in mind that doesn’t include oiled-up muscle-bound men, at least not during the party.”

“What are you planning?”

“Nope! No spoilers,” she laughed. “So what else is on the wedding planning agenda?”

“Cake tasting with Marc tonight, which should be fun, the flowers are all set and the invitations are ordered—”

“What about your dress?”

“Don’t even mention that,” Jessie groaned. “Why is finding a dress that doesn’t cost you your first-born child so difficult?”

“See! The courthouse is sounding better by the minute.”

As her phone alarmed a second time, she scowled. “Crap! Work is always interrupting my life.”

“The nerve of those people,” Stacy replied, tongue in cheek, “you’d think they were paying you or something.”

Jessie chuckled. “They are, although not nearly enough.”

Chapter Thirteen

It was after five the following Friday and she was trying to wrap things up quickly. Blessedly, she had a weekend off. Though Marc was on call, they should be able to eke out a few hours of quality time together. Her desk phone rang on an outside line.

Don’t answer it!

Tempted to listen to the warning in her head, she let it ring twice more. Thinking it might be Marc calling, she picked up.

“Jessie! Thank God, you’re still there. It’s Elaine.”

Jessie physically deflated, slumping down in her chair. Sure there was some crisis going on in the single mom’s life, she braced for the bad news.

“I can’t work Sunday. I don’t have a babysitter and Justin has a nasty sinus infection and bronchitis. I can’t take him to my mom’s, she’s not in the best of health and if she gets this bug it would be bad.”

“Who else have you called, Elaine? This is my first weekend off in a month.”

“I’ve tried everyone, Jessie. It’s only for Sunday, please. I got Krista to agree to come in a few hours early, so it’s only until five o’clock.”

She sighed; as nurse manager she was responsible for her floor being staffed. Weekends were hard to cover and since the hospital had a hiring freeze for some ridiculous reason, the nurses they had were overworked and it was next to impossible to get them to work extra. She’d try the float pool for coverage, but rarely did she get a worker on her floor. Orthopedics was hard, no one walked unassisted, they transfused blood almost continuously, and everyone was in pain. Jess always said her patients weren’t sick, they were broken.

She released a pent-up breath of frustration. “It’s not like I have a choice. Okay, but you owe me a full weekend of coverage for this, Elaine. I’ve bailed you out at least six times in as many months, so you owe me big time.”

“I’ll make it up to you, Jess. I swear.”

She hung up and dropped her head on her desk with a thud. She’d heard those promises before. Whining aloud, she thought of Marc’s reaction. He was going to kill her. Only a few weeks ago, they’d had a big blowup over her schedule. When she’d taken the promotion, against his sound advice, she was promised a Monday–Friday and rotating weekends, once every three or four. That hadn’t happened yet and she was beginning to wonder if it ever would.

Marc was displeased with her seventy-hour workweeks and constant phone calls when she wasn’t even on call. Not only because it affected their time together, but more so because it was taking a toll on her health. Her migraines had worsened and more recently, her family doctor diagnosed her with a thyroid condition and started her on medication. He wanted her to step down and find something else, go back to the OR, or come to work at his clinic.

She’d refused. Instead, she agreed to talk to the director, insist on the schedule that they had initially offered when she’d agreed to take the position, and then if it didn’t get better, make a more drastic decision. He’d gone along with the plan, only to pull her over his lap for a sound spanking the following weekend when they were supposed to be off at the same time and she had picked up an extra shift. Not for Elaine, but for one of the other dozen nurses who were assigned to her unit. She felt responsible and most of them had kids. That argument hadn’t set well with Marc, who’d only spanked harder.

The phone rang again. “Dammit! What now?”

She picked up the receiver and all but barked at the caller on the other end. “Fifth floor, Jessica Swanson speaking.”

There was a pause before she heard Marc ask, “You okay, baby?”

She barely suppressed a groan. “Uh, hey there, handsome. I didn’t expect you to call on my office phone.”

“Do you answer the phone like that often?”

“No, I just had an irritating call. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

“Are you about done for the day? I thought we could go out or pick something up on the way home.”

“I’ve got ten minutes left, fifteen tops.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? You sound stressed.”

“That’s business as usual at St. Joe’s, isn’t it?”

“
Bella
…”

“I know, you told me so.” That was a bit snippy too. “I’m sorry, I’m a little irritable, my head aches and my neck is really bothering me. A muscle strain, I think.”

“A migraine? Did you take your pill?”

“Not a migraine, this is in the back of my head near my neck, from sitting at this computer working on the budget, no doubt.”

Silence met her on the other end. She should know better than to complain about a job he’d warned her not to take. There’d be no sympathy from him on that subject.

“Why don’t you come by my office? I’ll put you in the AquaMed for a round or two. That will fix you right up.”

“The Aqua-what?”

He chuckled. “The new hydrotherapy massage table we got in a few weeks ago. Thirty minutes will have you purring like a kitten and believe me, after you get a taste, you’ll be buying sessions by the bundle like everyone else.”

“I don’t feel like getting wet. Maybe you can give me a shoulder massage instead.”

“I can do that too,
bella,
but this bed won’t get you wet. We’ll dim the lights and put on the headset with relaxing music. When I turn it on, you’ll float in a cradle of warm water while high-pressure jets target all those sore, tight spots, yet not one droplet of water will touch you. It’s awesome.”

“Why am I only now hearing about this?”

“I guess it never came up before. If that doesn’t work, we can try some ultrasound or electrical stimulation with a TENS unit.”

“The added benefits of having a fiancé with a high-tech rehab center—nice.”

“I’ll take care of you,
mio tesoro
.”

My treasure—she loved when he called her that. “I’ll be over in fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

* * *

As the jets stopped and the lights gradually came on, Jessie groaned with disappointment. A low chuckle from nearby had her cracking an eye. Marc was leaning against the wall watching her, a sexy smile adorning his gorgeous face. She was so into the music and the all-over body massage, she hadn’t heard him come in.

“One more round, please…”

“You’ve been in for forty minutes, Jess. It’s time to get out.”

“I can’t move. My body has been pummeled into a useless heap of jelly. It was wonderful, near orgasmic, and better than anything I’ve ever experienced.”

He cleared his throat and her eyes popped open. She smiled languidly. “Present company excluded, of course.”

“Thanks for bolstering my ego, Jessie.” His sarcasm was said in a teasing manner, as his hands slipped under her and he lifted her limp body into his arms. When he carried her out the door into the main corridor, she stiffened.

“Won’t someone see?”

“No. It’s after seven. Everyone’s gone home by now.” He walked down the hall and into an open exam room, kicking the door closed behind him. With his elbow, he switched on the lights and then set her down on the exam table.

“What are we doing in here?”

“Ultrasound; it should really precede the hydrotherapy, so I might have to give you that manual massage you were hinting at for your neck pain after all.”

“I hope you’re not the jealous type, because I’m in love with this machine. AquaMed,” she sighed wistfully, “you’re my hero.”

His low, husky laughter warmed her. “Replaced by a machine, I’m crushed. How will my ego ever survive?” As he bent to her, his lips found her ear, his teeth nipping then sucking on her lobe to ease the sting. The warmth rekindled and sparked into more intense heat.

“Remove your clothes, Miss Swanson,” his order rumbled low in her ear, “all of them, including your panties, and we’ll get started.”

“Getting bare-assed naked for a pain in the neck. I’ve never heard of this procedure, doctor.”

“I know some trigger points we need to focus on and have some other treatment modalities in mind. I also don’t want to get the transmission gel on your clothes,” he murmured as he lifted his head. The soft brush of his lips was barely a kiss across her parted lips, before he moved to the storage cabinets by the wall. “Multi-focused therapy works the best,
cara
. Trust me. Strip and hop up.”

Her fingers went to the buttons of her blouse, releasing them. “Who am I to argue then? Do your worst, doc.”

“No, sweet Jessica, this evening you’ll get nothing short of my best.”

He rolled a machine next to the table. On top was a white wand with a rounded head and a bottle of gel, set in a warmer. Marc waited, arms folded across his broad chest, eyes glued to her fingers as they moved down the front of her shirt. Once it was undone, she shrugged it off her shoulders. He held out his hand. She laid it over his palm and watched as he twisted and hung it on a hook mounted on the back of the door. In a second, he was holding out his hand for the rest.

Although she’d worked around doctors for years, she’d never dated one until Marc. It was weird to be in this position. In a clinical setting with bright lights blaring overhead and the austere, seemingly sterile environment of the exam room, it made her a bit uneasy. This was his clinic, his domain; he was in charge, most definitely. As if his usual commanding presence wasn’t enough, the authority inherent in a doctor/patient relationship along with the fact that she would soon be bare while he remained fully dressed, still wearing his lab coat—wait, when had he put on his lab coat?—added a vulnerability to the mix, which shifted all the power into his court. Especially with his eyes focused intently on her in less than a professional sort of way.