With a Little T.L.C. (8 page)

“Okay. Ask away,” she said with a bright smile.

“You know my brother Nick is getting married in four weeks.”

She nodded. “A June wedding. What about it?”

“Would you like to go with me?”

She halted in the act of dabbing at the moisture on his hand. “Me?”

“Yeah. We're friends and you would be doing me a big favor.”

“How's that?” she asked.

“Number one, it would get the meddling Marchettis off my back. Ma never misses an opportunity to play cupid. She keeps asking me if I'm bringing anyone and uses the excuse that she needs a head count for the caterer. Number two, there's the problem of someone to ride shotgun for me.”

“Excuse me?” she asked.

“Every wedding I've ever been to has an unattached female looking to go home with an unattached guy in the wedding party.”

“You're one of the groomsmen?”

He nodded. “I'm the best man. And before you have a field day with that, it's the traditional title, not my own comment on my character.”

She bit back a grin as she dabbed cream on his cut. “I wasn't going to say a word.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Except that being the best man would make you the best target.” Even if he wasn't good-looking enough to give whiplash to a parade of nuns.

He ignored her comment and continued. “Anyway, if you come along as my guest, I won't have to worry about predatory females and I'll be able to enjoy my brother's wedding day.”

“Your cover?”

He thought for a moment and said, “You could say that. So how about it? Will you go with me?”

“Yes. For two reasons. Number one, I really like your family and I would very much enjoy seeing them again. Number two, you held back. You didn't say I owe you for this whole desk thing and you easily could have. But if I can repay the favor by riding shotgun to protect your virtue, then I would be happy to.”

“Good,” he said.

After putting ointment on his hand, Liz finished up with a very large Band-Aid. She gave Joe her stern nurse look. “I'm about to give you the benefit of my medical experience in layman's terms. Keep this booboo clean and don't get it wet.”

He saluted. “Aye, aye. In that case, do you mind if I make a phone call?”

“Help yourself. Phone's in the office.”

He nodded. “While I'm there, I'll make a notation of the wedding date on your calendar.”

While he was gone, she refused to give in to suspicions of him calling another woman. He had every right to call anyone he wanted. It could just as easily be a guy he needed to touch base with. One of his brothers. It was none of her business. The jealousy spreading through her like a tidal wave could easily be explained away. Right, she thought disgusted. And maybe she would flap her arms and fly to the moon.

A few minutes later, he returned. “Did I stay gone long enough to get out of work?” he teased.

“Your timing is perfect,” she answered, folding the dishrag and settling it on the divider between the two sinks. “Now you get to relax.”

She led the way into her family room and inserted the video into the VCR. She grabbed the remote control and sat down on the sofa, too late realizing her mistake of picking her territory first. He took the spot right beside her, so close that their arms and thighs brushed. Did he feel the sparks as warmly as she did? Why couldn't he have picked the other side of the couch, the chair across the room, or a place in another county? But she decided not to say anything to her hurt handyman. After all, he'd injured himself helping her. Not only that, she didn't want him to think she had feelings for him other than friendship. Because she didn't.

He released a sigh that sounded tired. “Any time you want to start the movie,” he said.

She pushed a button and watched the trailer appear
on her TV screen. Joe put his arm around her. Is that what friends did? She'd dated guys and had even gotten very close to one. But no guy had ever been her friend. She had no experience at this. But again she decided protest would bring more scrutiny to her feelings than she wanted.

She concentrated on the images flashing across the screen to keep her mind off the man beside her. But the faint fragrance of fabric softener that clung to his T-shirt, the pleasant smell of his skin, the warmth of his body all combined to increase her breathing. Flutters started in her stomach and if she took her own pulse, she knew it would be elevated.

Not again, she thought. This was probably the least romantic setting she could imagine. Certainly not in the same league as the night they'd sat by the pool under the stars. But darn it, she had the same feeling now as she had then. Nary a star in sight and she wished that Joe would kiss her.

She glanced at him, a surreptitious look. What she saw made it safe to inspect him as closely as she wanted. His eyes were closed. His breathing was deep and even. His body slack and relaxed. The man was asleep!

“I didn't mean for him to relax quite this much,” she said wryly. She waited for his eyes to open, but he didn't move.

“I guess I'm about as exciting as dirt,” she said, resigned to the situation.

He didn't respond.

Hurt in spite of herself, she tried to move away from him, sliding forward on the couch. He mumbled something as he leaned sideways and stretched out, his long legs hanging off the end of the sofa. When
Liz tried to stand, he tightened his hold, circling her waist with his arm. She couldn't break his grip without a struggle and that would wake him. In spite of her pique, he'd worked very hard today and she didn't have the heart to disturb him.

“I guess we really are nothing more than friends,” she said with a big sigh.

That thought should have pleased her. Instead sadness burrowed inside her clear down to her soul. And for the life of her she couldn't figure out why.

J
oe felt movement beside him and tightened his hold on the warm, soft, curvy body snuggling there. Liz, he thought with a smile. The sensation of her next to him was incredibly pleasant, profoundly relaxing and he never wanted to move. He wanted to stay like this forever. He felt himself drifting off again.

But a small noise got his attention and relaxation vanished in a heartbeat. Was that a sniffle?

He opened one eye. His sleep had been so deep, so peaceful it wasn't easy to clear the cobwebs. When had he last rested so completely? He couldn't remember.

He was on his side, Liz's back pressed to his front, with his arm encircling her waist. The end credits of a movie scrolled by on the television. He realized he'd fallen asleep on her couch. Man what a jerk! He couldn't go to sleep in his own top-of-the-line bed. Why her couch? But that wasn't the worst. Was she crying?

He sat up quickly, trying not to feel guilty that he felt more refreshed and rested than he had in a very long time. “Hey.” He rubbed a hand across his face. “I hate sad endings,” he said, hoping that and not his being out for the count had produced her sniffles.

“Hey, yourself, sleepyhead. Nice try, but I'm calling your bluff. You obviously slept through the entire movie.”

“Yeah. I can't believe I went out cold in about a second and a half. I guess the desk construction took more out of me than my pride would admit.”

She slid into the corner of the sofa and pulled her knees up to her chest. “Don't worry about it.”

Joe didn't miss the hurt in her eyes. He remembered her confession about her father's carousing and recalled her question that morning when he drank his coffee. She thought he was tired because he'd been out with someone else the night before. She'd kept her voice teasing and her veneer perky. But he'd seen that it bothered her. He refused to examine too closely why anything that bothered her bothered him. He only wanted to reassure her.

“Liz?”

“Hmm?”

“I just want you to know I'm not dating anyone else.”

She had started to run a hand through her pixie hair and stopped. She went completely still. “Dating? Anyone else?”

He held his right hand up. “Scout's honor. I didn't believe in playing the field when I actually was looking for someone. And it was the truth when I told you I'd given up the search for a lasting relationship. I
was tired this morning, but not because I was out with another woman last night.”

“I believe you. And I'm not questioning what you're saying. It's just your choice of words.”

“What words?” he asked.

“One actually. A very important one. Dating.”

He shook his head. Obviously he'd slept so hard his brain needed a kick start. He hadn't a clue what she was getting at. “You're going to have to be a shade more specific. I'm at a disadvantage here. I slept soundly on your couch making me the world's biggest jerk. And my mind is fuzzy
because
I slept soundly on your couch. What is it about the word dating that you don't understand?”

“I guess I did assume you were dating someone. I just didn't know it was me.”

He nodded. “Completely my fault. I guess I forgot something.”

He reached over and tried to tug her closer. When she resisted, he put an arm under her legs and his other arm behind her back and gently lifted her onto his lap. Cupping her cloud-soft cheek in his hand, he lowered his mouth to hers. The single, simple touch, intended only for reassurance, unleashed something inside him, something wild he'd been trying to ignore and suppress.

Her soft sigh of pleasure fed the sensation kicking up the tempo of his breathing. Joe traced the outline of her full lips with his tongue, coaxing, encouraging her to open to him. He wasn't disappointed. Her lips parted and he felt her sweet breath on his face, faint and fast. Slowly, cautiously, giving her the opportunity to change her mind, yet praying that she wouldn't, he entered the honeyed recess of her mouth.

Chest to chest with her, he felt her rapid heartbeat, her soft breasts pressed against him. He felt like he'd died and gone to heaven. And he wanted to take her with him. He slid his fingers through her silky hair and cupped the back of her head, making the contact of their mouths more firm. Her palm curved around his neck. Her fingers toyed with his collar, then slipped into his hair, kicking up his heart rate. Restlessly, she moved her hand, tracing his ear with her finger. The sensation sent a bolt of electricity straight through him. His body hummed with the charge. The blood raced through his veins, painfully and insistently arousing him.

He wanted her.

But as much as he wanted her, he needed to go slowly and carefully with her. It had taken a lot to get her to trust him this far. First base could wait until she was ready.

He cupped her slender shoulder in his palm, and nibbled soft kisses across her cheek, down her jaw, and found a sweet spot just below her ear. He pressed his mouth there and smiled when she gasped her pleasured response. There were layers to his little nurse that waited to be peeled away and he could hardly wait to find the free spirit protected there.

He started working his way back to her mouth when he felt her pushing against his shoulders. “What is it?” he asked.

“Stop. Please.”

“What is it?” he asked again, more sharply. He kicked himself for jumping the gun. But his attraction to her was powerful. Otherwise he would have given up on her a long time ago. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No. You did everything way too right,” she whispered, touching a finger to her mouth. She shook her head and the frightened look in her eyes disturbed him. “That's why we have to pretend this never happened.”

“First, I think that might take more imagination and concentration than I've got,” he said. His voice was ragged even to his own ears. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to get his body under control. “Second,
why?
”

Kissing her was the best, most satisfying experience he'd had in longer than he cared to calculate. No way did he want to put it out of his mind and make believe it never happened. He wanted to remember every detail. He wanted to keep kissing her and make more details to remember. He wanted to kiss her on a very regular basis.

As if she could read his thoughts, Liz said, “It can't ever happen again.”

“Ever is an awfully long time.” Irritation swirled inside him at that thought. Never have the pleasure of tasting and teasing her lips again? Never nibble her neck and hold her while she shuddered in response? They were good together first time out of the chute. With regular practice, they could be a whole lot better. But she had some kind of hang-up. “Why not?” he asked again, trying to tamp down his annoyance.

“Because we're not dating.”

“What difference does a label make?” he asked. “We're friends, aren't we?”

“Yes. But friends don't date.”

He noticed she didn't say friends don't kiss. He suspected she had been rocked by it as much as he
had and didn't even want to say the word. “Is that a hard-and-fast rule?”

She nodded. “Ironclad and unbreakable.”

“Also unwritten,” he added sarcastically.

Ignoring him she went on. “To maintain an uncomplicated, yet satisfying state of friendship, dating is strictly forbidden.”

“Define dating,” he said.

She slid off his lap and retreated to her corner of the couch again. “Dating is when you spend time with someone to see if they're ‘the one.”'

“The one?”

“Don't play dumb, Joe. I already know how smart you are. You are well aware of what I'm trying to say. Dating is what you do when you try someone out to see if you're compatible. See if you like each other. See if you want to spend the rest of your life with that someone.”

“You're making this awfully complicated.”

“You started it.”

“With a kiss?”

She winced at the word, but nodded. “I'm trying to minimize battle damage here.”

“Okay. Tell me what the rule is again.”

“No k-kissing.” She'd stumbled over it, but managed to say the word.

“If we don't kiss, can we date?”

“You're impossible. And you're splitting hairs.” She tried to look stern, but her mouth turned up at the corners. “Dating is a state where two people decide if they can ever have a meaningful relationship. Since neither of us want that, dating is out of the question.”

He couldn't help wondering if she was really talk
ing about kissing and dating. Was she afraid of what she felt because it was more than she wanted to feel?

He sensed that debating the issue would tank them right then and there. He wasn't ready for that. Retreat was the better part of valor. “Okay. We're officially not dating.”

“Good.”

“Then let's clarify. You're still going to run interference for me at the wedding?”

“Yes. But it's not a date. It's a favor, and payback for putting my desk together.”

“Whatever you want to call it.” He stood up. “I'll tell Ma there will be one more at the reception.”

“Okay.”

“I think it's time for me to go home.”

“It is getting late,” she agreed.

Later than she could possibly imagine. Too late for him to take back that kiss even if he wanted to. He went to the front door before he looked at her and followed his instincts straight into more hot water. Nurse Nancy had warned him to keep his wound dry, but he'd ignored the warning and kissed her. And did that mean it would get worse? Since his father hadn't raised a quitter, there was a better-than-even chance that he would wind up in more hot water.

She followed him to the front door. “Good night, Joe. And thanks again for my desk.”

“'Night, Liz,” he said without looking at her. He turned the knob and let himself out.

When he heard the deadbolt click, he wondered what it would take to unlock her defenses. He wasn't sure of anything except that he was grateful she hadn't changed her mind about accompanying him to the wedding.

Whatever label she felt comfortable putting on their weird vibes, Joe didn't care. He just knew that he wanted to continue seeing Liz.

 

When she arrived at the hospital for her shift on Monday, Liz was still struggling to get Joe Marchetti off her mind. Work was what the doctor ordered. But as she clocked in, the volunteer sign-in book caught her eye, and reminded her of Joe. More specifically, she remembered his soul-shattering kiss. Here at work, and now at home, there were memories of him.

Every time she looked at her sofa, she went hot all over remembering the way his lips had made her tingle from head to toe. When he'd lifted her onto his lap, she'd suspected he was going to kiss her. She could easily have stopped him. She'd told herself not to go there. But when the time came she couldn't do it. The touch, the taste, the temptation were too tantalizing. She'd called a halt when she realized she wanted more. That scared her. Passing the point of no return with Joe spelled disaster with a capital
D.

She shook her head as she walked through the double doors and into obstetrics. She automatically glanced at the flow board to see how busy the floor was. Her eye caught the first name—Rosemarie Schafer. Joe's sister? She wasn't due for a couple weeks yet.

She hurried to the labor room. Rosie was hospital-gowned with the fetal monitor hooked up. Joe sat in the chair beside her. Liz was about to ask what was going on when Rosie groaned.

“Here comes another one.” She gripped her brother's hand as she rolled from her back to her side and faced the wall. “Push on my back.”

He stood and did as she asked. “How's that?”

“Harder,” she ground out.

“Honey, if I push any harder, you're going right through the wall.”

His tone was a mixture of concern and irritation that Liz knew was directed at himself because he couldn't fix his sister's discomfort and make it instantly go away.

Not wanting to disturb them, Liz backed out of the room. She knew Rosie was on Sam's rotation and therefore in good hands. A million questions went through her mind starting with—where was Steve Schafer? Why wasn't he with his wife while she was in labor? What was Joe doing there? But now wasn't the time.

 

Several hours later, Liz popped into Rosie's room and found her nursing her brand new son. The second-time mother looked up and smiled, tired but radiant. “Hi. I wondered if you were on duty.”

“Hi, yourself.” She grinned. “I saw you were here when I started my shift. I peeked in, but you were a little busy. Joe was here and you were in very capable hands with Sam so I decided not to interfere.”

“She was wonderful. But I would have been more comfortable with you.” She laughed. “Although after a while I don't think I cared. No offense.”

“None taken.” She walked over to the bed to get a better look at the baby. “He's gonna be a heartbreaker. Looks like his dad.”

Rosie studied her son proudly. “I think he does look like his father. But heartbreaker is the last word I would use to describe Steve.”

“Speaking of him, where is he? I would have bet
money on the fact that wild horses couldn't keep him from your side at a time like this.”

“He was on a business trip. He didn't want to leave me, but I wasn't due for a few weeks and I insisted he go. I kicked myself from here to the delivery room after my water broke.”

“You were lucky Joe was around.”

“It wasn't luck. Joe knew about the trip. It involved personnel for Marchetti's. When Steve left, Joe moved into my house. Temporary baby watch. When he wasn't guarding me in person, he called on an annoyingly regular basis. He said it would have been Nick's job, but he's too preoccupied with his fiancée and the wedding. So the second son got the nod.”