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

second Jessi had mentioned his father in his office he’d tried to yank his hand away, very aware that his crooked finger was right there for her to see. And ask about. The last thing he wanted to talk about was his past. Jessi’s father might have been a pain-in-the-ass drill sergeant—but at least he’d loved her enough to care about who she saw. What she did.

His cell phone beeped. When he glanced at the caller ID, he winced. Jessi. The very person presently haunting his every thought. And it was already midmorning. He was supposed to have called her to let her know how Chelsea was.

He pressed the answer button and bit out an apology. “Sorry, Jess. We’ve been swamped and I hadn’t had a chance to call you yet.”

She brushed aside his apology with a cleared throat. “Was she okay when she woke up?”

Despite the worry in her tone, her voice flowed over him, soothing away some of the worst parts of his morning. A few muscles in his jaw relaxed.

“I haven’t had an in-depth conversation with her. Just a few minutes of small talk as she ate breakfast. We’re due to have a therapy session at two.”

“But she’s okay.”

He realized what she was looking for, and all the day’s heartache came roaring back. “She doesn’t seem to be obsessing over what happened yesterday. I’ll call you when I’ve talked to her again.”

“Hmm.” She didn’t say anything more.

“I know I promised. I’m sorry.” He gritted his teeth.

“No, it’s just that I have to be at work at three, and I’ll probably be just as swamped with patients as you seem to be, since it’s a holiday.”

Ah, yes. Father’s Day. Something he tried to forget every year. He glanced down at his left hand, where the crook in his finger reminded him of a whole childhood of fear and unhappiness. That wasn’t the only reason he wasn’t crazy about this particular day. At this point in his life, he didn’t see himself ever carrying the title of father, even if he found someone and married her. He was close to forty, and had never really given kids much of a thought.

Maybe he should ask Jessi if the day held any special significance for Chelsea, though … good or bad. He should be prepared for any eventuality.

“Will Father’s Day add to Chelsea’s stress levels?”

There was silence over the line for a long minute. “No. Larry died before she was born. She only knows him through pictures.” There was something sad about the way she said it.

He forced the next words out even as his insides tightened. “You didn’t have much time together.”

“No, we didn’t. The worst thing is he might still be alive if someone hadn’t …” The words ended on a strangled note.

Something burned in his gut. “If someone hadn’t what, Jess?

“It doesn’t matter. What does is that I have a wonderful daughter from our union. That’s what made the hard times after his death bearable.”

The image of Jessi mourning her husband was enough to make that burning sensation tickle the back of his throat. She’d had a daughter with the man. And as much as he told himself he didn’t care, the cold reality was that part of him did—the same part that had leaped when he’d first realized who Jessi was and had wondered if Chelsea might be his.

But she wasn’t. And if he was going to do his job, he had to remember that and keep on remembering it.

“About my session with her. How about if I send you a text, rather than trying to call? That way you can check in when you’ve got a free moment.”

“That would be fantastic. Thank you, Clint. But please do call if something changes. I’ll set my ringer to vibrate just for your number. If it does, I’ll know it’s important, and I’ll find a way to answer, or I’ll call you right back.”

The tension in his gut eased and something warm and dangerous took its place. She was going to be listening for his call and his call only.

Okay, idiot. It’s in case of an emergency. It’s not like she’s putting your number on speed dial or anything.

“So you have the number here, if you have any questions or need something, right? I remember you said my card was on your refrigerator.” He glanced at the business card on his desk, since he hadn’t quite memorized his Richmond number yet. “Or do you need me to read it off to you again?”

“Nope. I’ve already programmed it into my phone. In fact, I have you on speed dial,” she said. “Just in case.”

CHAPTER NINE

FATHER’S DAY SHOULD be outlawed.

Or at least the giving of gifts involving any type of motor should be banned. So far that afternoon, Jessi had treated a leg that been kissed by a chain saw, a back injury from an ATV accident and a lawn mower that had collided with a lamppost before bouncing back and knocking its new owner unconscious. Not to mention assorted other minor injuries. And she still had two hours to go until the end of her shift. The one thing she hadn’t seen had been the screen on her cell phone lighting up or feeling its vibration coming from the pocket of her scrubs.

All was silent with Clint and her daughter.

Sighing, she grabbed the next chart and headed for the curtained exam room. Patient name: William Tuppele. Complaint: the words fishing hook and earlobe ran through her head before she blinked and forced her eyes to read back over that part.

Okay. So it wasn’t just things with motors that should be banned from this particular holiday.

When she entered the room, a man dressed in hip waders with a camo T-shirt tucked into them sat on the exam table. And, yep, he was sporting a shiny new piece of jewelry.

She looked closer and gulped. Had something behind his ear just moved?

Stepping farther in the room, she glanced again at