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

eyelids to finally swing shut … no longer afraid he was going to miss something crucial.

With one last sigh, he propped his chin on her head and allowed his body to relax completely.

Something tickled the side of her arm.

There it was again. It wasn’t Cooper, because he was in the living room, and the bedroom door was shut.

Her mind reached out to grasp something, only to have it shift away uneasily. The sensation returned. A light rhythmic stroke trailing up toward her shoulder now.

Her eyes opened to find someone standing beside the bed, watching her.

Clint.

“Hello, sleepyhead. I fed Cooper and let him out. Hope that was okay.”

“Mmm …”

Since his voice sounded as rough as hers felt, she wasn’t the only one who had fallen asleep after the second time they’d made love.

In her bed. In her house. And the second time he’d undressed her slowly. Carefully. Kissing his way down her body in a way that had made her heart melt, even while her senses had been kicking into high gear.

Like now. Only it was her heart that was soaring, rather than her libido. Because Clint was still here. He hadn’t hightailed it out of here like she’d half expected. The hope she’d grasped earlier continued to grow, picking up speed as she finally acknowledged the possibilities that this might just work out between them.

“Hey, yourself. What time is it?” She rolled onto her back to look at him fully.

“About five in the afternoon.” A hand reached up to scrub the stubble on his jaw. “Do you have to work?”

Work? At a time like this?

“Have you been walking around the house like that?” The man had fed Cooper and let him out … stark naked? He smiled. “Why? Does it bother you?”

“Define bother.”

He laughed. “So, about work …”

“No. No work, but I need to check on Chelsea and my mom, like I told them I would.”

“I thought you might. Otherwise I would have let you sleep. As it was, if Cooper hadn’t scratched at the door, I was going to wake you in a completely different way.” He found one of her hands and linked his fingers through hers.

She closed her eyes, happiness flowing over her. “Wow. You’re up for a third round?”

“Believe me, I’m up for all kinds of things. Round or otherwise.” A quick glance down showed he was already up and ready.

“Mmm.” She let out a sigh as a thought came to her. Talk. That’s what she’d meant to do at some point, only she’d gotten sidetracked. She dipped a toe into the water. “Do you think Chelsea and Paul are going to start seeing each other?”

“I think it’s a possibility. Why? Is that a problem?”

“Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“Don’t know. They’ve both been through some tough times. They’ll either be able to support each other, or they’ll drag each other down.”

A shiver went over her. “I hope I never have to live through anything like the past couple of months ever again. How do you deal with patients who are in such pain on a daily basis? I think it would eat at my heart.” She hesitated before continuing. “And after what happened with your dad …”

Lifting his hand to kiss it, his crooked little finger caught her attention. She changed her aim and kissed that knuckle instead.

He stiffened at her act. “My dad is the reason I’m in this line of work.”

Pulling away, he reached down and picked something up off the floor. She frowned, and then saw it was the picture frame he’d knocked off. Flipping it over, he went to put it on the nightstand then stopped, his jaw tightening as he stared at it.

“Clint?”

He shook his head, throat moving for a second. Jessi swiveled her eyes to look at the frame.

The glass on Larry’s side had broken, a series of jagged, cobweb-looking cracks distorting his features and obscuring half of his face.

When she glanced back at Clint he looked … stricken. That was the only word she could think to describe it.

She reached out a hand. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s only a cheap frame. I can get another one.”

He set it on the table but wouldn’t quite meet her eyes.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

“Jessi, I need to tell you something.”

A wave of foreboding licked at her toes, then her ankles. Soon it was waist deep and rising.

She reached out to touch him, but the second she did, he backed away and found his trousers, sliding into them and fastening them before he looked at her again.

“I was going to wait and tell you later, but this seems as good a time as any.” A muscle worked in his jaw. “They’ve found a permanent replacement for Dr. Cordoba. He arrives in two weeks.”

She wasn’t sure what this had to do with them. “Chelsea will continue her sessions with him, then.”

“Yes.” He scooped his dress shirt from the floor and pushed his arms through the sleeves.

Why was he getting dressed? This was good news. They wouldn’t have to hide their relationship anymore.

Right?

“So that means we’ll be able to see each other without—”

“No.” His lean fingers moved quickly to button up his shirt. “We won’t. I’m putting in my transfer papers. You knew this was only a temporary assignment. Just until they found another doctor. I’m going back to San Diego.”

What? Her mind screamed that word over and over and over until it was hoarse with grief and confusion.

He’d made love to her last night as if he couldn’t get enough. As if she really meant something to him. And now he was leaving?

Shades of the past came back to haunt her. Hadn’t he already done this once before? Screwed her and then taken off without a backward glance?

The ominous wave was still rising, faster than ever, splashing up her neck and cresting over her head until she couldn’t breathe. Horror washed through her at all she’d done with him last night, at how truly and freely she’d given herself to him.

In. Love.

And