Jake (14 page)

              “I’m outside,” Ivy interrupted him. “Please stop. I’m outside. I was running. Now I’m, oh shit!”

              Jake swore quietly but with clarity.

              “Yeah,” Ivy agreed. The tension in her tone loosened, allowing room for words. “Only it’s not going to happen. Not for three days.”

              “Unbearable.”

              “You want to talk me through an orgasm, call me Friday night. I’ll be hurting for you by then. Right now, I’m—well, I was—completely satisfied.”

              “Sorry, babe.”

              “My fault. I shouldn’t have teased you.”

              “Yes, you should. Often.” And then he picked up on her words. “You’re completely satisfied?”

              “How could you doubt it?”

              “I don’t. It’s just good to know you know it.”

              “I now understand the term ‘mouth music.’”

              Jake thought again about being between her legs, his mouth playing her clit. The calls it pulled from Ivy’s sweet lips. Damn, his balls ached. He shifted in his seat, hoping to ease his erection. He looked down at his fatigues. They were loose enough he wasn’t straining against the zipper, but the bulge was prominent. Not something he could hide, unless he walked around with his hat over his fly and he’d be damned if he’d do that.

              “We need to talk about something else, sweetheart. What are you doing after your run?”

              “I’m going to the grocery store. You want me to read my list?”

              “Yes.”

              She chuckled but complied. “Strawberries, milk, half and half—I can’t drink coffee any other way. I suppose you take it black?”

              “Cream no sugar,” he corrected.

              “I need yogurt and I should pick up some cottage cheese. It’s very healthy for you, but I don’t like it a whole lot.”

              “Yogurt is just as good.”

              “My thought exactly. I need linguine, tomatoes and salsa,” she continued. “Is this working?”

              “Yeah,” he said. While he hadn’t exactly deflated, the ache was becoming more of a memory. “For you?”

              “A little. Maybe I should cook dinner Saturday? I’m not exactly Sandra Lee, but I have a few recipes down.”

              “No. A real date,” he said. “I want to take you out.”

              “Okay,” she complied easily this time. “I think after the grocery store I’ll go shoe shopping. Get a pair of sandals with a heel on them. And then I’ll have to get ready for work.”

              “Seven to seven tonight?”

              “Yes. It’s my favorite shift. I like the quiet and the pace is slower, so I can spend more time with each kid. It gives parents a chance to step out for a few minutes, too. Get some fresh

air. Some kids are on the pod three weeks or more. The cardiac patients. It’s a long haul.”

              There was that compassion again. Ivy had a soft heart and every reason to protect it. The emotions that came from her were genuine. He hoped he could prove to her that he was a man she could trust.

              “You think any more about Montana? If you’re not into skiing we can grab a few snow mobiles.”

              “I’ve never tried skiing,” she admitted. “Not snow skiing. I’m really more a water sport type. Sun and sand and waves.”

              Great. Now he could have a few surfer girl fantasies to keep his dick occupied, when he wasn’t with Ivy.

              “I’ve never been to Montana. I hear it’s beautiful.” And he could tell that she was really considering it.

              “You should give snow equal opportunity,” he agreed.

              She laughed at his enthusiasm. “I’m thinking about it.”

              “Good.” He watched the group across the room gather their lunch trays and stand. He glanced at the clock. He was due back at Command in seven minutes, and it didn’t matter that he
was
the command—he needed to be on time. “I’ve gotta go, Ivy. My men are assembling. We’ll be on maneuvers beginning tonight.” He was reluctant to admit the rest, “I won’t be able to call you until Saturday morning.”

              “Okay.”

              She was slower to accept this than he’d have liked.

              “It’s not always like this,” he told her. “Just when we’re off communication.”

              “I’ll be thinking about you, Jake,” she promised.

              “Me, too.” And walking around with a club to prove it.

Chapter Thirteen

              Ivy walked onto the floor twenty minutes prior to shift change. The pod was busy. A cafeteria worker was gathering the dinner trays that were stacked outside patient rooms, nurses were taking vitals and documenting them, TVs were a constant buzz of chatter and canned laughter. A new patient was brought in on a gurney, a little girl with toffee colored hair. Ivy paid particular attention to her as she was hooked up to a ventilator that was pushed alongside the bed. From the incision site, she knew the girl had had open heart surgery, and this late in the day, the surgery had either gone long and been complicated, or it had been unexpected. Ivy would keep vigil over her through her shift.

              She moved to the patient board and noted the children receiving respiratory therapy. She would have seven patients on ventilators tonight, another four with whom she would coach through breathing exercises to expand their lung capacity. The longer the human body relies on artificial respiration, the tighter the lungs when that apparatus was removed. Kids regained quickly, though. Unless there were complications, and Ivy noted one little boy who had developed pneumonia while intubated. He was listed in critical condition, as were all the children on this emergent pod. But the notations next to that indicated that he had arrested once the week before. Orders were to wean him from the ventilator through the night with the hope of extubation in the morning. The sooner he was breathing on his own, the sooner his lungs were working and gaining strength, the better his chances of a positive outcome.

              Pneumonia screwed up everything. It put prognosis in a tail-spin.

              “Fancy seeing you tonight.” Genny had come up behind her and now they stood elbow to elbow at the board. “I thought you’d be in Mexico sealing the deal with the Marine.”

              “Why Mexico?”

              “You can get married there in five minutes, no questions asked.”

              “Married? Been there done that,” and Ivy’s voice made it clear what she thought of the idea.

              “Oooh, really? The secrets come tumbling out of the closet.” She smiled to lighten her comment. “You must have been a child bride.”

              “We were both children,” she confirmed. And one of them never grew up.

              Genny tskked her feelings about that. “All you can do is learn from a mistake like that.”

              “And make sure you don’t repeat it.”

              “You’re a big girl now. You’ll know when you’ve got the real thing.”

              “How did you know?” Ivy wondered about Genny’s relationship. She’d met the woman’s husband on several occasions. He was laid back but attentive to Genny, and despite the woman’s woes about the loss of romance in her life, Ivy had witnessed her husband’s commitment to the small things—helping her on with her coat, consulting her for decisions; last week he’d arrived on the pod with her dinner.

              “It’s different for everyone,” Genny said. “But I can tell you I knew one week in but it took me almost a year to do anything about it. I was still in nursing school. My parents were paying my tuition and they would have skinned me alive if I even thought about marriage. Mel was managing at McD’s—this was before we bought into the franchise—and my parents had a difficult time with that. It was the kind of job a kid picked up in high school, they said. They didn’t know he was on the fast-track to ownership. They wanted him to have a college degree. They settled down when Mel showed them his paycheck and the accrued credit towards a shop of his own.” She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her scrubs and regarded her thoughtfully. “Pay attention to the little things,” she advised. “The grand gestures are usually the first to fall away. And make sure you agree on a lot and can compromise on the rest.” Her smile grew and she arched a knowing eyebrow. “So, how was your run?”

              “Amazing.” Every moment with Jake had been so much more than Ivy could have dreamed. Bigger than life, that was the term she was looking for. When she was with him, only the two of them existed. And now that they were apart, and each submerged in their own lives, Ivy was having a hard time convincing herself that it had been real.

              “Amazing?” Genny repeated the word like it was an unknown language. Then said, with sudden understanding, “Ah, the afterglow.”

              Stan came up beside them. “It’s the endorphins,” he said. “No better opiate.”

              “You don’t have to be in a pair of running shoes to experience runner’s high,” Genny agreed.

              Ivy accepted their good-natured teasing and fell in beside them as the shift change began. She listened attentively to the round-up, jotting notes to herself about individual kids and needs, but at the back of her mind Genny’s comments surfaced and bobbed around awaiting attention—
You’re a big girl now. You’ll know when you’ve got the real thing.
The trouble was Ivy didn’t believe it. She’d failed at it miserably, once, and everything about Jake felt right. And that’s just not possible. No one’s perfect.

              The night progressed slowly and Ivy lingered with her patients, returning often to the side of Rafael, the two year old boy with pneumonia. He was not tolerating the withdrawal of oxygen and Ivy couldn’t get him below eighty percent O’s. That wasn’t good. X-ray came in and the images showed that both lungs were heavily scarred. The infection had cleared up enough that there was no fluid left in the tiny sacs, but it would be a lot longer before he would be removed from the respirator. The surgical repair—a Fontan procedure to improve the workings of his heart—looked good, the pneumonia was a complication. And a setback. Ivy knew his parents, a young couple who hovered over his bedside, would be scared and disappointed.

              Ivy conferred with the cardiologist, documented her adjustments in Rafael’s file, and headed to the staff lounge for her break. She had purchased an already-prepared Greek salad when she was at the grocery store and pulled that from her lunch bag along with sliced chicken breast and a peach. She uncapped her water and drank from it. She was tired. She needed the electrolytes added to her drink and knew that replenishing her body’s water supply would provide her with more energy.

              She had expended quite a bit with Jake. They had barely slept.

              And she couldn’t believe how easy it had been to fall asleep next to him. She had drifted

off with the feel of his body along her back and his hand on her hip, and it had been comforting. And she had awoken the same way—with a delicious feeling of satisfaction that was intimately connected to a peace she wasn’t familiar with but she knew came from the man laying beside her.

              She could rest in him.

              That was a profound thought for Ivy. She had hoped to find that with Trace and not long into her marriage had decided such a thing did not exist. She would always be her own comforter and rescuer.

              Jake had proved her wrong on so many levels.

              She remembered his stern countenance on the side of the freeway, disturbed by her lack of concern over her circumstances. His fiery remarks when the attraction between them flared, his discipline that paced their relationship. She felt safe with Jake. She had learned to find that safety herself. Oh, but how good it felt to ease into someone else. Someone with broad shoulders and strong arms and a code of honor that she could rely on to build them up.

              It made her skittish, though, to try and define what they had. It was too soon. And she couldn’t ignore that trickle of fear that struck whenever she thought about Jake long-term. It was better to stay in the moment. Wasn’t it? But Ivy no longer hid from challenges.

              How did she swing so fast from a trust no one, to a he could be the one attitude?

              She tried to recall some of the facts she’d unearthed about flings. Very few developed into something more substantial. Something like a paltry twelve percent of flings developed into lasting relationships.

              She picked through her salad, popping a cherry tomato into her mouth as she turned her thoughts to what she and Jake
did
have. A common interest—running and maintaining a healthy lifestyle. A shared sense of humor. A strong work ethic. A troubled past they both used as a compass into a brighter future. Ties to family that were important to them.

              Could she do Thanksgiving with Jake and his sister’s family?

              There was something exciting about boarding a plane with your lover for parts unknown, even if it was only for a few days.

              But something very nerve-wracking about spending that time with that person’s extended family.

              And why hadn’t she told him about Holly’s injuries? She carefully guarded her sister. Every time she’d thought about telling anyone about Holly an image bloomed in her mind of the tall, lithe, athlete she had been in high school, whipping around the track, her long blond hair flaring out behind her. Holly was strength. She was sunshine. She was all Ivy had in the world. She didn’t want people to see her disability because that was so not who her sister was.

              She pushed her salad away and picked up her peach. She gazed out the large window where lamp posts were shrouded in pre-dawn fog. The night sky was still an impenetrable hue of black. Holly was doing so well now, she’d told Ivy she was returning to work full time next week. She’d refused Ivy’s money this visit, too. She’d let her pay the conference fee, which included hotel, but tore Ivy’s check in half and laid it on the table between them.