Not Quite Dating (Not Quite #1)(35)
Author: Catherine Bybee

There could be no denying that. “I don’t want regrets, Jack. You evoke so many emotions inside of me, I can’t see straight.”

“Darlin’, that makes two of us.”

“But…we’d have regrets. Maybe not today, but tomorrow or the next day.” When Jack took his fill and left to follow his next dream. She’d have a heaping boatful of regrets.

“I have never, nor will I ever, regret any time I spend with you.” His sober words made her realize how many regrets she would hold.

“I value our friendship…If we do this, there would be no friendship.”

Jessie knew he couldn’t deny her words.

Jack groaned and kissed her forehead before breaking their contact.

Her body cooled instantly, a root of reality already reaching its fingers around her heart and giving it a tight squeeze.

Jack gathered his jacket and pushed his arms into it. At the door, he turned to her. “You have my number.”

Which meant she’d have to make the next move.

“Thanks.”

Jack nodded, passed her one long, heated stare, and walked out her door.

Jack slipped into his shower and blasted the water on cold. There was nothing remotely satisfying about a cold shower. The only thing it served was cooling his enraged hormones that were on a continual high cycle when in the presence of Jessie.

She’d been so vulnerable tonight. In hindsight, he was happy she’d pulled away. Left to himself, he wouldn’t have. They would have both enjoyed each other in bed, but he could see the pain in Jessie’s eyes; she would have regretted it.

She would have been right. Once they slept together, this pseudofriendship would blow up like smoke and Jack would hold on to her as tight as he could. No more misfit dates with lawyers who took her as easy. No more pretending not to care if another man looked at her with desire. Jack Morrison was a good many things, but he didn’t share his women, and none had meant as much as Jessie did.

Jack let the cool water run over his face before turning and allowing it to drip down his back. He started to cool his jets, but his insides still flamed. Only now, they were in an all-fire pisser about Brad the snake. How dare the man expect something from a first date with a woman he barely knew?

How could the man ever mistake Jessie for that kind of woman? Kind and caring, Jessie deserved respect. Jack knew she was worried about his feelings when she’d backed away from sleeping with him tonight. She didn’t want him falling for her because she wasn’t ready to return the sentiment. What Jessie didn’t realize was her efforts were already too late.

Jack turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Grabbing a towel, he dried himself off.

Too late. Jack had it bad.

Then there was Danny…Lord, that kid had grown on him. How his real father could walk away and never look back ticked Jack off.

He wrapped the towel around his hips and ran his fingers through his wet hair. “Be patient,” he told himself in the mirror.

Patience was entirely overrated.

Jessie jumped whenever a pickup truck pulled into the parking lot at work. Disappointment ran high when Jack didn’t emerge from any of them.

She’d worked a couple of extra hours each morning for one of the day-shifters to make it easier on Monica, who was schlepping Jessie back and forth to work since they were down a car. Her car would be out of the shop in a couple of days, but boy did the extra expenses bite into Christmas.

Danny deserved much more than she could provide.

A man like Brad might have been able to provide some financial means, but he would have come up short on the emotional ones.

What was worse, she wondered, a man who cared with all his being who would only be around a short while? Or a man who didn’t care at all?

Would the money last longer than the memories?

Would the heartache last longer than the money?

It was midnight on her first night off since the disaster date with Brad. Jack didn’t call, didn’t stop by. Monica had finished her semester and was enjoying a long-overdue break by going to Big Bear, where the snow had come down in feet rather than inches. Monica didn’t ski, but she took pleasure in the snow and the guys who flocked to it.

Jessie stared up at the ceiling in her room, unable to sleep.

Danny had gone to bed early with a small cough.

Slipping out of bed, Jessie tossed her robe over her shoulders and shoved her feet into her slippers.

On her way to her kitchen to try some warm milk to help her sleep, she heard Danny coughing in his room.

She pushed open his door and noticed that he’d pushed off all his covers. She stepped in and went to cover her son up. The sweat on his forehead stopped her. Placing the back of her hand to his face, she realized how hot he was.

Danny started to cough again, and this time his eyes opened, glossy and unfocused.

“Hey, handsome.”

Danny’s little eyes instantly watered. “I don’t feel good, Mommy.”

Jessie lifted him into a sitting position and he started to cough even harder. Under his pajamas, his skin burned with fever. “Wait here,” she told him before rushing to the bathroom to find the thermometer.

“Here, buddy. Let’s see where you’re at.”

She stuck the gauge between his lips and under his tongue. He coughed around it while she stripped the hot pajamas from his tiny body. The coolness of the room had him shivering, but Jessie remembered Monica talking about the kids who arrived in the clinic ill. “It’s not cruel to strip a burning kid down to his underwear. It’s much worse to let the fever stay high and keep all that heat in.”

Danny kept coughing, only it didn’t sound like he was bringing anything up. He even had a squeaky noise when he pulled in a breath.

Inside, Jessie started to panic. Outside, she smiled and stroked Danny’s head. Her car was in the shop and Monica was out of town.

It was late at night, and the only place open was the emergency room at Upland Community.

Jessie pulled the thermometer from Danny’s mouth and tilted the glass tube until she saw the red line: 104.2.

Now it was time to panic.

She hurried to the bathroom and found the chewable children’s Tylenol and glanced at the box to see how much to give him. The weight chart said two tablets, so she poured two in her hand and hurried back to Danny’s side.

Danny whined when she handed him the medicine, his body shook, and his coughing never stopped. “Here, baby. Take these.”

“Do they taste bad?”

“They’re good, try ’em. They’ll make you feel better.” But 104.2 wasn’t good. She had to get him to a doctor. The cough worried her even more than the fever.