Summer of Love Marie Ferrarella (easy books to read in english TXT) 📖

she might hunker further down into whatever foxhole she’d dug for herself. She needed to give Clint enough time to do his job.

“Jessi?” Gina, the nurse from the earlier, caught her just as she was leaving her patient’s room. “You have a phone call on line two.”

“Okay, thanks.” It must be her mom, confirming their dinner date for tonight. She’d promised to update her on Chelsea’s condition, something that made her feel ill. With her father gone, Jessi and Chelsea were all her mother had left. And though her mother was no longer taking antidepressants, she’d been forgetful lately, which Jessi hoped was just from the stress of her only granddaughter’s illness.

Going to the reception desk, she picked up the phone and punched the lit button. “Hello?”

Instead of the bright, happy tones of her mother, she encountered something a couple of octaves lower. “Jess?”

She gulped. “Yes?”

“Clint here.”

As if she hadn’t already recognized the sound of his voice. Still, her heart leaped with fear. “Is something wrong with Chelsea?”

“No. Do you have a minute? I’d like to take care of some scheduling.”

“Scheduling?”

A low, incredibly sexy-sounding hum came through the phone that made something curl in her belly.

“I want us to talk every day.”

“Every day?”

About Chelsea, you idiot! And what was with repeating everything he said?

“Yes. Our schedules are probably both hectic, but we can do it by phone, if necessary.”

“Oh. Okay.” Was he saying he didn’t want to meet with her in person? That he’d rather do all of this by phone? She had no idea, but she read off her schedule for the next five days.

A grunt of affirmation came back, along with, “I’ll also want to meet with you and Chelsea together.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t Dr. Cordoba have family sessions with you?”

She shook her head, only realizing afterwards that he couldn’t see it. “No, although he mentioned wanting to try that further down the road.”

“I believe in getting the family involved as soon as possible, since you’ll be the one working with her once she’s discharged.”

Discharged. The most beautiful word Chelsea had heard in weeks. And Clint made it sound like a reality, rather than just a vague possibility. So he really was serious about doing everything he could to make sure treatment was successful.

A wave of gratitude came over her and a knot formed in her throat. “Thank you, Clint. For being willing to break the rules.”

Was she talking about with Chelsea? Or about their time together all those years ago.

“You’re welcome, Jess. For what it’s worth, I think Chelsea is very lucky to have you.”

Her next words came out before she was aware of them forming in her head. But she meant them with all her heart. “Ditto, Clint. I think Chelsea and I are the lucky ones.”

“I’ll call you.”

With that intimate-sounding promise, he said goodbye, and the phone clicked in her ear, telling her he’d hung up. She gripped the receiver as tightly as she could, all the while praying she was doing the right thing. She was about to allow Clint back into her orbit—someone who’d once carried her to the peak of ecstasy and then tossed her into the pit of despair without a second glance. But what choice did she have, really?

She firmed her shoulders. No, there was always a choice. She may have made the wrong one when she’d been on the cusp of womanhood, but she was smarter now. Stronger. She could—and would—keep her emotions in check. If not for her own sake, then for her daughter’s.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE FIRST FAMILY counseling session was gearing up to be a royal disaster.

Jessi came sliding into Clint’s office thirty minutes late, out of breath, face flushed, wispy strands of hair escaping from her clip.

He swallowed back a rush of emotion. She’d looked just like this as she’d stood to her feet after they’d made love. He’d helped her brush her hair back into place, combing his fingers through the strands and wishing life could be different for him.

But it couldn’t. Not then. And not now.

“Sorry. We had an emergency at the hospital, and I had to stay and help.”

“No problem.” He stood. “I have another patient in a half hour, so we’ll need to make this a quick session.”

“Poor Chelsea. I feel awful. I’m off tomorrow, though, so I’ll come and spend the day with her.”

When they walked into Chelsea’s room, the first thing he noticed was that the lunch she’d been served an hour ago was still on a tray in front of her, untouched. At the sight of them, though, she seemed to perk up in her seat, shoveling a bite of mashed potatoes into her mouth and making a great show of chewing.

Manipulating. He’d seen signs of it earlier when he’d tried to coax her to talk about things that didn’t involve the weather.

Her throat worked for a second with the food still pouched inside one cheek. She ended up having to wash the potatoes down with several gulps of water. She sat there, breathing as hard as her mother had been when she’d arrived a few moments ago.

“Enjoying your meal?” he asked, forcing his voice to remain blasé. So much for showing Jessi how good he was at his job.

As if this was even about him.

He ground his teeth as his frustration shifted to himself.

Chelsea shrugged. Another bite went in—albeit a much smaller one this time.

Not polite to talk with my mouth full, was the inference.

Well, she’d run out of the stuff eventually. And since she was pretty thin already, he was all for anything that would get food into her system. That was one of the comments on the sheet in her file. She didn’t eat much, unless someone wanted to interact with her in some way. The staff had taken to coming to her room and loitering around, straightening things and making small talk. It was a surefire way to get that fork moving from plate to mouth.

He decided to give her a little more time.

Jessi stood there,