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

He had to take himself off Chelsea’s case. It was no longer about remaining objective but about doing what had served him—and everyone around him—well for the last twenty-two years: staying away from emotionally charged situations.

If he’d known the details about Larry’s death, he would have taken himself off Chelsea’s case that very first day. This time, though, he wasn’t going to let Jessi carry any of the blame for what just had happened between them. Nope, he was going to stuff it into his own bag of blame. One that seemed to swell larger every time he laid eyes on her. When he returned to the living room, Jessi was still there, seated on the sofa, only this time she had a phone to her ear.

“Of course, honey,” Jessi said to whoever was on the line. “I’ll check with Dr. Marks and see how soon we can arrange it.” Her glance met his and she mouthed, “Chelsea.”

Jessi’s daughter was calling her? Right now?

He sat beside her, suddenly very aware of all inappropriate things they’d done in this house last night.

The second she clicked off the phone, she finally looked at him. Really looked at him. “Chelsea wants to talk about something.” She licked her lips as if afraid of saying the next words. “She wants us both to be there.”

Please, don’t quit yet.

The words chanted through her skull as Clint dropped her off at Scott’s Memorial to pick up her car and then waited for her to follow him back to the VA hospital.

They hadn’t said much once she’d got off the phone, and the interior of his car had been filled with awkward silence and a sense of dread that had blocked her stomach and clogged her throat.

How could she have been so stupid to think last night wouldn’t have any serious repercussions? Her only excuse was that it had felt so good to be in his arms. So right.

Only it wasn’t right.

The timing had always been lousy when it came to her and Clint. If he’d stayed all those years ago, she never would have married Larry. But she never would have had Chelsea either.

And just like last time Clint wouldn’t be there for the long haul. As soon as they’d found a replacement for him, he’d be gone.

He would waltz out of her life once again.

It’s just not meant to be. It never was.

The words trailed through her head as if dragged on a banner behind a plane for all the world to see.

Her subconscious rejected them, though, cutting the line and watching as the lettering fell to the ground in a swirl of white canvas and belching smoke.

Before she had a chance to come to any conclusions, Clint pulled to a stop in one of the few parking spaces that had another spot beside it. She slid her car next to his and took a couple of deep breaths before she got out and went to where he stood, waiting. “You won’t say anything, will you?”

Clint looked at her as if she had two heads. “About what? Larry? Or about us having a second one-night stand?”

A flash of intense hurt zinged through her chest, making her gasp for air.

As if realizing what he’d done, he hooked his index finger around hers. “Sorry, Jess.” He gave a squeeze before letting her go. “I seem to spend a lot of time issuing apologies nowadays.”

She tipped her chin back. “Let’s just see what she wants.” The words came out sharper than she’d meant them to, but maybe that was a good thing. She could put her armor back in place and pretend last night had meant nothing. “We can discuss everything else later. If we could avoid arriving at her room at the same time, that would make me feel more comfortable.”

“So you want me to hide out in my office for a few minutes before joining you.”

Saying it like that made Jessi realize how cheesy and paranoid the idea sounded. “You’re right. Let’s just go together.”

Once they got to Chelsea’s room, they found her seated on the bed, that eerie tissue-paper baby on top of the nightstand. Jessi tensed. That had to be what she wanted to talk about.

She leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Hi, sweetheart.”

Chelsea grabbed her around the shoulders, wordlessly hugging her tight for a minute or two. Then she whispered, “I’m sorry for putting you through what I have for the past couple of months. I love you, Mom. Always remember that.”

A chill went over her at the solemn words. She stood up and glanced at Clint. “All that matters is that you start feeling better.”

“I think I will as soon as I get something off my chest.”

Once they were all seated, Clint started things off with some light conversation, never even hinting that he’d been with Jessi in anything other than a professional capacity. Instead, he asked about Jessi’s day at work yesterday, subtly guiding her to tell the fishhook-in-the-ear story. Chelsea actually laughed right on cue.

“You hate worms,” her daughter said.

“I do. I still remember you bringing in a jar of dirt for me on Mother’s Day. Little did I know that that you and Grandpa had spent hours digging up earthworms to put in it.”

Chelsea grinned again. “You screamed when one of them dug through the dirt and slithered along the inside of the jar. Grandpa laughed and laughed.”

Jessi smiled at the memory of Chelsea and her dad’s conspiratorial glances at each other as they’d handed her their “gift.”

“You always were the fearless one.”

“Not always.” Chelsea’s smile faded. “I need to tell you something. Something about when I was held in Afghanistan.”

“Okay.” She glanced at Clint, but he simply nodded at her.

Setting the doll in her lap, Chelsea took a deep breath. “You were right about my pregnancy. I was expecting when I was captured. I hadn’t told anyone because it meant a ticket straight home—and I didn’t want that. The whole thing was so stupid. It was an