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

her go. He wanted to drag her into the car and drive right to the creek to see if that night had been everything he’d remembered it being.

Abigail’s voice called the dog’s name again. The bushes shielded them from view, so Clint didn’t look. Besides, his gaze was glued to Jessi’s pale features.

Even when Cooper decided to lumber over to them, instead of going to the house, he didn’t break eye contact.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” The gutted apology as she backed up one step, then two, made his lungs burn. The back of her hand went to her mouth, and she pressed hard. Her feet separated them by another pace, then she reached down to capture Cooper’s collar. “Please, don’t dump her. This was my fault. Not hers.”

As she led the dog back to the front door, Clint gave his head a silent shake. There was no one else. He couldn’t leave. Not yet.

Chelsea couldn’t afford to lose two doctors in the space of two weeks.

Which meant Clint couldn’t afford to start something he would never be able to finish. He’d made love to Jessi once and had barely been able to find the strength to walk away. If it happened twice, there was no hope for him.

So, from now on, he would tread carefully. And keep his distance from Jessi and her mom as much as possible.

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHELSEA WAS TALKING.

Not a lot, but Clint had noticed a subtle shift in her demeanor over the past several days as they met for their sessions. She was more interested and less withdrawn. He wasn’t sure what had caused the change, but he was all for it.

Besides, it kept him from having to deal with the devastating consequences of that kiss he and Jessi had shared beside his car. And the suspicious thoughts that had crept into his mind in the meantime.

Had she tried to manipulate him into staying?

No. Jessi wasn’t like that. When he’d left all those years ago, she’d never said a word to try to make him change his mind. Yes, she’d made him promise that he’d remain on her daughter’s case—right before she’d locked her lips to his, but it wasn’t as if she was the only one who’d been thinking along those lines. He’d been just as guilty. And she’d been very careful to maintain her distance ever since. Their consultations were now over the phone—despite their earlier agreement to meet with Chelsea together—and her voice during those calls was brisk and businesslike.

Just like the doctor she was.

And she was smart. She knew exactly the right questions to ask regarding her daughter’s state of mind. According to the nurses, her visits to Chelsea occurred during his off hours. He had no doubt she’d somehow found out his schedule and was purposely coming when he wasn’t around.

As grateful as he should be for the breathing space, he found himself irritated at the way he missed her presence.

What else could he do, though? He’d always prided himself on his self-control, because it was something his dad had never had much of. And yet Clint lost it every time he was around Jessi.

Every. Damn. Time.

It had been true twenty-two years ago, and it was still true today. He just couldn’t resist her. The good girl that he’d had a secret crush on in high school had turned him into an impulsive, reckless creature. One he feared, because he recognized the beast all too well. He’d looked into impulsive, reckless eyes so like his own during his teenage years.

That raw, angry kid had morphed into a cool, rational man somewhere along the way, and in doing so had found himself. Had found an antidote that worked. But it only functioned if he didn’t let anyone get too close.

Today would be the test. Jessi was due here with her mom in a little over an hour. He’d warned himself. Scolded himself. Immersed himself in work. All to no avail.

His heart was already pounding in anticipation of seeing her—trying to justify being with her one more time.

Just one kiss. He could stop anytime he wanted.

Sound familiar, Clint?

Substitute drink for the word kiss and you had his dad in all his lying glory.

Not good.

His assistant pushed open the door. “Dr. Marks? Miles Branson is here for his appointment. Are you ready for him?”

“Yes, send him in. Thanks, Maria.”

As hectic as his morning had been, with two new patients and a flurry of consultations, he shouldn’t have had time to think about Jessi at all. But she’d found her way into every nook and cranny of his brain and surged to the forefront whenever he had a free moment.

Like now.

Miles came in and, after shaking Clint’s hand, lowered himself into one of the chairs across from him. Another PTSD patient, this particular man had made great strides in his treatment over the past couple of weeks. It could be because of that new baby girl he had waiting at home for him.

“How’re Maggie and the baby?” he asked.

“Both beautiful.” The smile the man gave him was genuine, and the furrows between his brows seemed less pronounced than they’d been when Clint had arrived. He scrolled through his phone for a second and then handed it over.

Miles’s wife and a baby swaddled in a pink blanket lay on a hospital bed. She looked exhausted but happy, while it was obvious their daughter was trying out her new set of lungs, if the open mouth and red, angry-looking face were anything to go by.

“Beautiful. You’ve got a great pair of girls there.” Clint pushed the phone across his desk.

“I’m a lucky man.” He smiled again, glancing down at his wife and daughter. “You know, for the first time in a long time I actually believe that.”

“I know you do. Are you ready to try for a reduction of your medication?”

“Can I do away with it altogether?”

Clint paused for a second. While his superiors were very conscious of time and money, his only concern was for