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Authors: Autumn Markus

Tags: #Romance, #General, #Fiction

Cocktails & Dreams (33 page)

BOOK: Cocktails & Dreams
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Leaving her suitcase on the bed, she went looking for him. He was leaning in the refrigerator, eyes scanning the shelves. “Dinner?” he asked.

“I hadn’t thought about it yet.” Jena ran her hand under his scrub top and rubbed his back. “Stir-fry, probably. What happened to the sex suit?” she teased.

He grabbed a bottle of Becks and shifted away from her to lean against the counter. Taking a quick swig, he answered. “Got messy. I need a shower. Do you mind doing the food?”

Without waiting for an answer, he swallowed the rest of the beer and headed down the hall toward the bathroom.

“Not at all, Mr. Pissy,” Jena muttered to herself, getting out the cutting board. Chopping vegetables with vicious efficiency made her feel a little better, though a tiny part of her brain remained on high alert, her heart beating faster and her breathing elevated.

By the time Nick came back, wearing old jeans and a soft red button-down shirt, Jena had the stir-fry on the table. “So…how was your day?” she asked quietly.

“Fine,” he answered shortly. He jabbed chopsticks into his food and took a quick bite, then looked up with a brittle smile. “How was your day?”

She launched into an abbreviated version of her calls with Leisa and her mom. Nicholas laughed in the appropriate places, but it seemed off. Jena reached out to stroke the back of his left hand with tentative fingers and he jumped, moving the hand to his lap.

Jena leaned back in her chair and stared at him, dropping her unused chopsticks on her plate. “Nicholas, talk to me. Something’s wrong.” She hesitated. “Would you rather stay here for Thanksgiving? We can make something healthier than my mom’s calorie-fest
and
avoid the insanity. It’s a win-win situation.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jena,” he replied. “You can’t cancel on your parents right before Thanksgiving.” He patted her hand with a tight smile before returning his hand to his lap. “It will be fine.”

Sure it will
, she thought grimly.

Jena picked up her chopsticks again, determined to lighten the mood. “So should I give my mom your mom’s number?” she joked. “That way you’ll be sure to get at least one thing you like. Probably everything you like, really.”

“Not necessary.” His eyes were cool again. “Besides, I’ve already spoken to Mother today. She offered to fly me home for the holiday, on her, and she’s a little disappointed that I didn’t take her up on her offer. I’m not sure how your mom’s call would be received.”

O-kay,
Jena thought, dropping the single bite of food she’d managed to scoop up back on her plate.

She tried again. “Have you done any arthroscopic surgeries yet? I’ve taken the anatomy courses, of course, but I would really love to see the scope in action and how the doc takes the individual muscles into account, specifically those that connect to the thigh. I was telling Stefan today—”

Nick’s head jerked up. “I thought you said he was Travis’s patient.”

“He is,” Jena responded, surprised at his harsh tone. “Travis just had to leave early so he could catch a prof for a few questions about the courses he needs to specialize in music therapy. He doesn’t want to drag it out forever, so—”

“Aren’t there any other therapists who could see Stefan? I know you didn’t want to bring your personal life to work, but he did stalk you last time, Jena. That should be a special circumstance.” Nicholas leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“I think ‘stalk’ is too strong a word. He had a crush.” She shrugged. “It happens.”

“Really? How often?” He leaned forward, tension in the lines of his shoulders and his neck.

Jena shook her head. “We are not arguing about this, Nicholas. You’re pissed about something totally different, and you’re making it about my work. Don’t shut me out, damn it! Tell me what happened today.”

“Whatever. Refuse to answer my question.” He pushed away from the table and stomped toward the bathroom, shutting the door with a sharp snick.

What the fuck?
Jena thought, stunned at how quickly the evening had gone to hell.

She followed him to the door and knocked loudly. “Hello! Jena to Nicholas! I really don’t know what is going on here, but I’d like a little explanation.”

Nick came out of the bathroom and edged past her in the hallway. He grabbed his keys off the kitchen counter. “Well, as fun as this has been, I think I’ve had enough.”

Jena’s head was spinning. “Where—”

“Out,” Nicholas answered shortly, shrugging on his jacket. “I haven’t seen Conor for more than a few minutes in a while.” He yanked the door open before stopping in the doorway. Jena could see his hand grip the doorknob convulsively, but he didn’t turn around. “Don’t wait up.”

The door shut loudly.

“Dick,” Jena yelled. Throwing the almost untouched food into a container, she put it in the fridge, quickly cleared the table, and washed the dishes. That done, she sat on the couch muttering to herself before grabbing her own jacket. Fuck him.

Nabbing her keys and phone, Jena started to shove them in her pocket before deciding to toss the phone back on the counter. There was absolutely no one she wanted to talk to, her mom, Leisa, and Dickolas being the most likely to call.

A brisk walk around the block cleared her head, and she decided to go for a coffee at the shop she and Leisa had visited the night she’d made the obviously bad decision to ask Nick to move in with her. After ordering, she shuffled through the densely packed bookshelves that lined the walls, reading a chapter here and a few pages there, feeling her blood pressure go down as she browsed.

Jena was shocked when the lights started to dim; she checked her watch and it was after eleven. The shop owner smiled apologetically. “You looked so comfortable there, I stayed open an extra hour. However, my wife is getting a little antsy now. What held your interest so thoroughly?”

Jena guiltily held up the
Ultimate X-Men
graphic novel that she had been reading. “What can I say? I have a weakness for Wolverine.”

He laughed and they exchanged names, then launched into a conversation about the various incarnations of what turned out to be his favorite superhero team, as well. The clock striking midnight made Jena jump.

“Oh, hell…” Tim sighed. “So much for good marital relations. Or any marital relations for a while.” He patted her hand. “Come back again, Jena. We still have the Avengers to discuss.”

Chuckling, Jena twined her scarf around her neck and waved as she walked out the door. As she headed home, she considered what might be waiting for her there. With Nicholas having to work in the morning, the best-case scenario would be that he was asleep and they could get whatever was wrong out in the open in the morning. She couldn’t decide if the worst-case scenario would be resuming the argument that night or having him still gone.

Jena noticed the light in the kitchen was on when she opened the door, and she breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that Nick’s presence, asleep or awake, was best case. She shut the door quietly, toeing her shoes off and padding toward the hall to shed her clothes into the bathroom hamper before she slid on the nightgown that hung on the back of the door. There was still no sound from the bedroom, so she went through her bathroom ritual quickly, thinking of the early morning ahead and wanting to get to sleep as soon as possible.

Slipping into the bedroom, where she expected to find Nicholas asleep, Jena was startled to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed. He looked up slowly and held his arms out to her without a word. She sank down beside him stiffly, not sure that she was inclined to forgive him quite yet. Nick immediately pulled her onto his lap and held her tightly to his chest.

“Nicholas? What’s wrong?” Jena asked, resisting the urge to relax against him, despite his wildly beating heart.

“I thought you were gone,” he whispered. “Really gone. There was a half packed suitcase on the bed, and—” He swallowed convulsively and buried his face in her hair. She could feel him breathing, rough and uneven, and her heart softened.

“Oh, Nick. I was packing for our trip when you got home. I got distracted with dinner and…well, after. I never did finish, did I?”

“I was sure…” Nicholas drew a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry. So, so sorry. I
am
a dick.”

“You heard that, huh?” Jena sighed and rested her head against his chest. “I warned you that I have a terrible temper. Sorry.”

“It wasn’t just you. Conor called me one, too.” Nick stroked her hair. “I tried to call you for hours and you didn’t answer, so I came home…and you weren’t here. I wouldn’t blame you if you left, Jena. I’m an ass.”

She wriggled around until she could cup his face between her palms. “Don’t start calling yourself names, Nick. This was a fight, and I still want to know what it was really about, but it was just a fight.” She kissed his forehead gently, feeling him begin to relax. “I’m not going to leave you over a fight. Besides—” she smiled against his skin “—this was my apartment first. If anyone goes, it’s you, bub.”

“Never,” he whispered, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against hers.

“People argue, Nicholas. It’s not the end of the world.” She rubbed the back of his neck, and he sighed. “You’re really not used to this relationship thing, are you?”

“I’m not used to this ‘feeling thing,’ and I have to say it sucks sometimes.”

They laughed, but Nick still didn’t let her go. “So…are you going to tell me?” she asked quietly.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Heather died today.”

“Oh, baby…”

Nicholas closed his eyes again. “I knew better than to get my hopes up when she woke up the other day, or when she talked to her fiancé. I heard she talked to him off and on all day today, more than she has since she came out of the coma, and went to sleep holding his hand, with a big smile on her face. And….” He brushed his hand roughly across his eyes. “Fuck, I hate this. Maybe I’m not cut out to be a doctor. How do I know? I’ve never tried to be anything else. Maybe my destiny is really to be a…a plumber.”

“Maybe a plasterer?”

He chuckled reluctantly. “What the hell is that? Maybe a bus driver.”

“Or a cowboy? I’ve always wanted to see Wyoming.”

Nicholas brushed her hair away from her face. “Do you ever take anything seriously?”

“I take lots of things seriously. Us, especially. The rest of it is negotiable and laughable.” She kissed him roughly before pulling back. “I don’t give a damn what job you have, but I think you’ll regret it if you don’t finish this, Nicholas. I know it would be easier if you didn’t care, but caring is what will make you a great doctor.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. It just hurts. And when I couldn’t find you…” He drew Jena close to his chest again, pressing her hand to his thundering heart. “I don’t want to be without you.”

“You won’t be. Just don’t shut me out. Talk to me.” She started unbuttoning his shirt. “Come to bed now. You need to sleep.”

Nick caught her fingers. He looked almost shy. “Thank you for loving me when I’m an idiot.” He traced his fingers across her lips. “Jena…I’d like to love you. Will you let me?”

“Only if you let me love you back,” she whispered, pushing his shirt from his shoulders.

Chapter Twenty-One

“H
OW
A
BOUT
T
HIS
O
NE
?” Jena asked, smiling down at the college-era CD she held in her hand.

Nick crossed the room and rubbed his hand slowly up and down her back as he read the song titles over her shoulder. For the past two days, ever since he’d been sure she’d left his sorry ass, Nicholas couldn’t stand
not
to be touching Jena whenever possible. Screw playing it cool. He’d been terrified, and he needed to reassure himself that she was really there. Really his. After a rough couple of days, where Jena had been reserved and quiet around him, her hesitance had finally started to break down that morning, and Nicholas was determined not to do anything to change that.

“Definitely,” he said, smiling at the thought of the way Leisa’s eyes would roll when Silverchair burst from the speakers of Jena’s Jeep. They’d already been subject to two lectures about what kind of music was appropriate and acceptable for a long car ride, prompting Jena to make a special playlist of music that definitely didn’t pass Leisa’s muster, just for this trip. “If you give me a minute, I might even be able to find that Blind Melon disc she particularly hates.”

Jena laughed and flopped back on the couch, flipping through a handful of CDs. She stopped on one and traced her finger over the cover with a wistful smile.

“What?” Nick asked, plopping beside her and eyeing the disc warily. “Reminder of an old boyfriend?” He had wondered about Jena’s romantic past, but hadn’t quite been able to ask; it seemed like something he should already know by the time he moved in with her.

“Yep,” she said with a smile. “Well, more like an old lust. I had the biggest crush on him…” Nicholas felt a scowl drawing his brows downward a second before Jena burst into loud laughter. “It reminds me of
you
, you big goob!” She jabbed her finger at one of the songs. “This is the first song we danced to at that stupid party, the night you disappeared.”

Rising, he placed the CD in the player and skipped to the appropriate track. As Coldplay’s “In My Room” filtered out of the speakers, he had immediate and total recall of that night, the way holding Jena against him felt as they swayed in the dimly-lit, crowded living room, the way she smelled, the jolt he’d felt when her hesitant fingers stroked his back through his shirt…he smiled and eased down next to her again.

She leaned her head against his shoulder and hummed along with Chris Martin’s voice. “I was so stressed that night…” she murmured. “Remember my verbal diarrhea? I couldn’t shut up to save my life.”

“I must have changed my shirt five times before I left my apartment,” Nick admitted. “I wanted you to come home with me so bad…” He smiled fondly at the memory. He started mentally culling his discs for songs that reminded him of Jena, then and now, determined to create another playlist just for her ears. The parallels to the mix CD he would have made in high school didn’t escape him, and he laughed.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Thinking about high school, actually,” Nick replied, still grinning to himself.

“All those hot chicks after you, right?”

He snorted. “Hardly. I was a total dork. I’m serious!” he protested as Jena shook her head with an exaggerated sigh. “A gangly, acne-ridden, non-athletic adolescent, with my nose always in a book. I think my dad was suspicious of the relationship between Mom and the milkman until I hit my senior year and things started falling into place.”

“Did they ever,” Jena said, wriggling her eyebrows suggestively. She laughed when Nick unexpectedly blushed.

“How about you?” he challenged, hoping to both get the spotlight off of him and dig around in Jena’s past in a playful way. “I’ll be the first boy to warm your mother’s heart, right?”

“Terrible paraphrase of a good Jack White lyric.” Jena shook her head sadly before glancing at his profile and smiling. “Um…maybe?” She cringed as his head whipped around and he stared at her. “Mom’s a little enthusiastic! My brother David got married when I was ten, and she’s been looking for my other half, while simultaneously being terrified that I’ll find him, ever since then. Are we really doing this?”

Nick nodded, feeling a little sheepish.

“Fair enough.” Jena surprised him by standing and rising. She put another CD in the player and asked with a smile, “Do you want to know what this song reminds me of?”

Hours later, Nick and Jena lay on the floor, her head pillowed on his shoulder, surrounded by their personal histories in music. His stomach hurt from laughing, but his heart felt full and far closer to the woman whose quiet breathing seemed to be in time with the song playing.

“My parents love Dylan,” she remarked, and then snickered. “I never did, much—he sounds like a nasal billy goat to me—but this song…Yeah. I get it.”

Nick listened quietly for a minute, holding Jena gently. “I do, too.” He thought of the completely sappy, utterly romantic playlist he’d already compiled, and reminded himself to add that song before they left for Ashland. And reminded himself
not
to mix it up with Leisa’s ‘special’ playlist. Because that could be embarrassing as hell, as much as Jena had liked it.

“Why haven’t we done this before?” he asked as the disc changed and another sweet song drifted through the room.

“We’re doing it now,” Jena answered, and he almost missed her quiet, “Thank God.” Almost. He rested his cheek against her hair and nodded his agreement.

He had drifted into half sleep, warm and comfortable with Jena in his arms, when her voice drifted out of the darkness.

“Nicholas, this weekend is gonna be crazy. It always is.”

He wrapped his arm around her more tightly. “Yeah. So I’ve heard from Travis.”

Jena shifted until she rested on one elbow and her other hand could cup his cheek. He could barely make out her eyes, but the calm love there made his heart skip a beat. “It will be okay. I promise.” She rose to her feet and tugged him to his. Backing toward their bedroom, she held his gaze. “When it feels like too much, remember this. Right now.” Sinking down on the bed, she urged him to lie down before she pressed a soft kiss on his eyebrow. “No friends.” She kissed the other eyebrow. “No parents.” Soft lips brushed the corner of his mouth as she settled on top of him. “Just us.” Her eyes smiled as she stroked Nick’s cheek.

“Just us,” he repeated softly.

She nodded.

“Good enough for me,” he murmured, leaning forward to claim the kiss promised by her smile.

They took their time undressing, hands never completely leaving one another’s bodies as each exposed inch of skin was given loving attention. Jena’s soft sounds and whispers guided Nicholas as he found new places on her body to adore. The gentle curve of a shoulder blade under his fingers as she arched against him. A downy patch of fuzz at the small of her back. The feeling of her pulse under the thin, silky skin high on her thigh.

Jena ran her hands slowly over Nicholas’s body, taking the time to trace each individual muscle in his forearms and shoulders, kissing and nuzzling from his face to his feet. Her mouth was soft and warm against him, and the occasional nip from lips or teeth drew his own moans and shudders. He was trembling when Jena threaded her fingers in his and clasped their palms together.

“This is good,” Jena murmured, smiling as she gazed into his eyes. She squeezed their joined hands. “Don’t let go, Nicholas.”

The love was sweet. And he didn’t let go.

Lying tangled together on the rumpled bedspread, unwilling to separate quite yet, they caught their breath afterward. “I love you,” Jena whispered, kissing his chest again as his arms tightened.

“I know,” Nick answered in his best Han Solo voice, and Jena laughed, slapping at his shoulder and glancing at the clock.

“Late,” she murmured, resting her head against his shoulder again. “Should we shower?”

He groaned, shaking his head against the pillow. “I don’t think I can manage again quite so soon. Wait a minute. Yeah, yeah, I can.” He grinned and tried to sit up.

“Ass,” Jena said, pushing him back down and smiling. “This might be the last good sleep you get before we leave Casa del Baker. I told you about my dad’s insistence on no unmarried ‘business’ in his house right?” He felt her sleepy smile against his skin. “It’s sofa city for you, sweetheart.”

Nick groaned again.

 

“Finished, Jen?” Nicholas smiled as Jena shoved another book into her suitcase, and she glanced up, blushing.

“This one’s for my dad.” She smiled up at him. “It’s a thing we do—trade trivia books.” She shrugged and finished zipping her bag. “For a while there, when I wasn’t a little girl anymore but not quite an adult yet, that was the thing we had in common to talk about. Now it’s sort of a Thanksgiving tradition.” She grinned. “We
kill
at Trivial Pursuit and Fact or Crap.”

“Fact or Crap?” Nick raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

“A game? You read cards, and have to determine if what’s written on them is, in fact, ‘fact’ or ‘crap’?” He shook his head. “Jeez, Nicholas, have you been living in a hole for the last decade? That game’s so old my parents play it.”

Nick chuckled and pulled her into his arms, curling himself around her. “Can I use being an ‘old soul’ as an excuse?”

“‘Old’ something,” she muttered, and Nicholas dropped his face down and scratched under the shelf of her jaw with his chin in retaliation. Jena squealed, pushing at his upper arms for a minute before she wrapped her arms around his waist and nestled her head against his chest.

“I’m so glad you’re coming,” she said softly. “My parents are crazy, and they
will
embarrass me, but…I want them to meet you.”

Nick felt a rush of contentment. Sharing stories from their pasts had opened a new level of closeness between them, an intimacy that he found himself wistfully wishing had existed since the beginning. Jena seemed to feel it, too; the occasional hesitance he’d noticed when she made a suggestion had disappeared, as had the searching looks when she thought he wouldn’t notice. Most welcome was the absence of the distrust that had shadowed her eyes since his last blow up. Nick would give anything not to have to see that ever again.

He relaxed against her, eyes closed, as he listened to the traffic on the street below. Soft fingers whispered against his back, and he sighed in contentment. After a few minutes, Jena’s hand stopped moving, and she sighed. “I have a few more things to pack.”

“I don’t want to let you go,” he murmured.

“I’m just going into the bathroom. I think you’ll live through the separation.” Jena laughed and gave him a final squeeze before walking toward the door.

Nicholas grabbed her hand, kissing it. “I’m not so sure about that. In approximately four and a half hours we’ll be at your parents’, which you’ve warned me could very well be a no-touching-zone, for four full days.” He pressed his lips against each knuckle slowly…then the back of her hand…then he flipped her hand so he could draw the tip of his tongue across her wrist before nipping it with his teeth. “Don’t you think we should take advantage of our last half hour alone?” he whispered, looking up at her from underneath his lashes.

Jena snorted and jerked her hand away. “Aside from the time references, you used that same line this morning. What makes you think it will work again?”

Nick grinned. “The same thing that let me know it was gonna work last night.” He grabbed her arm again and pressed his fingertips lightly to her wrist. “Feel that heart.”

“Smart ass.” Jena pulled her hand away, laughing. “Just for that I’m not gonna tell you what I had planned for you, or where I planned on doing it.”

She shrieked and ran for the bathroom as Nick lunged at her, slamming the door just as his phone rang.

He flipped it open, still chuckling. “I swear to God, Leisa, we’re not in bed. We’ll be there to get you on time.”

“I suppose I need to thank this Leisa for being able to get you to answer. Hello, Nicholas.”

Nick felt the color drain from his face as his father’s voice came from the phone. His first impulse was to snap the damned thing shut, and his dad seemed to sense that. “Don’t act like a child, son. We should be able to have a civilized conversation, shouldn’t we?”

Nick sank down on the bed, concentrating on Jena’s gentle humming as she packed her toiletries bag to keep him from shouting. “We should,” he said evenly. “What can I do for you, Dad?”

“How have you been, Nicholas?” His father’s voice was strained and a little sad.

“What can I do for you, Dad?” Nick repeated, closing his eyes.

Dr. Cooper cleared his throat. “I’m calling to reiterate your mother’s offer. We want you to come home for Thanksgiving, son. Our treat, any flight. We need to talk. I’ve left you alone for months now, and it’s time to sort out what the hell happened. Your mother is beside herself and has been since the night you so kindly told us to…well, you know what you said.” His voice had started to rise, and he stopped to take a deep breath before continuing in a calmer tone. “We just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy. Happier than I’ve ever been in my life.” Nick smiled a little, remembering how Jena had giggled when he was tickling her early that morning. “And, as you heard, we have plans for Thanksgiving already.
We
,” he emphasized. “It’s a package deal.”

BOOK: Cocktails & Dreams
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