Salvaging love, p.5
Salvaging Love, page 5
Chapter Eight
Very carefully, Ellie closed the last stitch on the cat’s paw she’d sewn up. The cut was long, but clean. She’d had to sew closed two layers. Underneath she used the absorbable sutures, then sealed the outer layer with glue. This crazy cat, Granger, had been in before, always curious, always getting into trouble. He’d have to wear the collar for a few days and he’d be a beast to get in and out of his cage, hissing at her, crying out all his complaints. “You’ll live, buddy,” she said to the sleeping form. “It’s a small wound. It’ll heal. They always do.”
Almost, but not always. Some wounds remained forever. And no matter how far down they were buried, they could fester and hurt all over again.
She should have been able to handle disappointment better. It was how she’d grown up. Holding on to expectations and having them shattered, until she’d built that shell around herself at age thirteen and stopped having any expectations. She’d only opened herself up once more, when she was seventeen and dating Andy, which had almost shattered her. After that debacle, as soon as she was able, she’d left New York for good.
Ellie was at her clinic early this morning. The animals were the only thing that could make her feel better. She’d already taken all the dogs and puppies out for a quick walk. Now she took notes on a few patients to keep her mind busy. Unfortunately, she failed. Why did he even go to all the trouble of saying nice things to me, to tease me, to flirt with me?
Over the years she’d lived in her apartment over the bakery in this Corvallis neighborhood, she’d developed a few friendships. And she should have been fine with that. She should never have gotten greedy, or allowed herself to want Jackson’s attention, the heat from his touch, the way his eyes seemed to see more in her than anyone ever had. She should never, ever have let his words warm a place deep inside her that had been locked up for years.
But in three days, no less, she was hooked on Jackson Kincaid being sweet to her. She’d wanted his attention once he gave it to her, and she’d enjoyed it. She’d almost felt like they were drawn together. Stupid girl. She’d let herself believe and hope in a stranger.
Now she hurt. Worse than that, she felt ugly and worthless like she had when she was growing up.
When he’d called late last night, and she’d answered the phone with the “Hey” he’d said he wanted for him alone, she’d known almost immediately something was wrong.
‘Jackson?’ she’d said into the silence.
‘I can’t do this,’ he’d said. His tone had been harsh.
‘Can’t do—’
‘This getting to know each other. Whole deal’s off.’ And before she’d been able to say anything, not that she would have been able to, he’d hung up. She’d sat with the phone cradled to her ear for a long time in the silence, so confused, so hurt, so stunned. It had been her own damn fault. For a few precious days she’d let herself believe that maybe she was, in fact, beautiful. At least beautiful to him.
Once again, she’d focus on what was important, taking care of animals. Only now she had to pretend that everything was all right because she hadn’t told anyone about him to begin with. Nat and Ruby were her friends, but Ellie felt ashamed of getting caught up in the feelings Jackson had stirred in her. Because, before she’d even had a day or two to appreciate them, he’d snatched them away. After years of being strong, she’d let herself be bullied again. She could barely stomach that thought, and she didn’t know how to explain any of that mess to her friends.
When Jackson had said, ‘Whole deal’s off,’ she’d guessed he also meant the month she’d got to persuade him to salvage Corvallis Street. What his condo project meant for her and those she cared about made her sick. She told herself she was trying to come up with the best way to tell them all. Maybe she was waiting till she could get the words out without crying. It was time to build her shell back again and be Dr. Blevins, veterinarian, nothing more. She’d find a new location and start over when this place was torn down. She was no stranger to starting over.
* * * *
On his way to the office Friday morning, Jackson detoured back to Corvallis Street. Images of her had plagued his sleep while the sound of her voice seduced his waking hours. He hadn’t been able to quit thinking about Ellie, about being close to her, dreaming of a journey with her in it, her warmth making him a better man. How could it have only been a few days since she’d come into his life? When he turned onto the block, he saw her exit the bakery. An older woman followed, an apron around her waist, thick white hair tucked up in a bun on top of her head. She kissed Ellie on the cheek and waved her away. He parked his SUV and watched. Ellie wore pale green scrubs. Bright pink sneakers snuck out from the bottoms of her pants. She had a backpack draped over one shoulder, and carried two coffees and a bakery bag. Fuck! He wanted her to be buying that coffee for him, because from the first minute she’d blinked those fiery eyes at him in her clinic last Friday night, eyes surrounded by sexy, black lashes, he’d thought, Mine.
Unlike that first night, her hair was down, and the long, wild curls played in the morning breeze and caught the sunlight as she walked. He was right about her looking like a mermaid goddess.
She stopped to chat with a pretty woman who was sweeping and picking up litter in front of the hair salon. They stood close to each other, both women smiling and intent, connected. When she was close to her clinic she visited with George, handed him a bag from the bakery and the second coffee she’d been carrying. They spoke for a few moments, again close, tight friends.
Whatever George said made her laugh. Then she patted him on his arm, waved goodbye and made it to her clinic. Even if the sun hadn’t been shining, her presence would have lit up the entire block. She opened the door to walk in, hesitated and glanced around the neighborhood. Does she sense me watching her? When she walked inside, taking her light with her, he nearly choked on the promise of his empty future. Fuck that! He decided right then and there to quit being a coward to prove to Ellie and himself that he was worthy of her. He’d have to find a way to protect her. The one task that scared him more than anything, protecting the ones he loved. No more hiding behind his job and his excuses and his fear. It was time to step up to the plate and be the man his mother would be proud of, a man he could be proud of, the kind of man Ellie made him want to be.
It was not yet seven when he got to his law firm, images of Ellie’s smile flooding his head. He stepped off the elevator and ran right into Clare, the woman who did the flowers for the firm.
“Clare, Jesus. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to run you over.” Jackson knelt to help her pick up the flowers she’d dropped.
“No worries. You’re distracted. Everything all right? Don’t think I’ve ever seen you anything less than one-hundred-percent focused, like a silver bullet targeting the bull’s-eye. Trouble in your kingdom?”
She came in every week to bring fresh flowers. Quiet and respectful of all the lawyers, she’d always shown a fondness for him, asking about his life as if they were close relatives. No one asked Jackson about his life. Most people were intimidated by him. Unless they wanted something from him or were forced to deal with him, most people left him alone.
Clare often joked about his ‘kingdom’ and his ‘love life’ as she called them, because he’d used her shop often over the years to send roses after he took a woman out. Big, expensive, showy roses. She might have used the words ’love life’ but she knew as well as Jackson did that he didn’t love any of those women. It was rare for him to see them more than once. The roses were often much more of a goodbye. A player in a game, he used his money and power, and most women used him right back. Then when he’d gotten what he wanted, he moved on.
What Clare didn’t know was that he bought the biggest, showiest bouquets not to woo the women or show off his money, but because Clare was one of the kindest people he’d met. A widow who supported herself with her flower shop. They’d spoken over the years, when she’d been arranging flowers throughout his offices and talking about life, and she’d often suggested to him that he stop playing around and find himself a queen. She was a romantic. And she didn’t approve of his many women over the years. ‘Find a gem. Find someone who can see the real you,’ she’d said. But Jackson didn’t believe in soul mates and happily ever afters, so he humored her. And because he liked her, he spent a fuck of a lot of money on her flowers.
“What are these?” he asked, touching the petals of the white flowers laced throughout with hints of pink, wisps of color fading into the white. The blooms were large, softball-like on thick green stems with unruly leaves, a bit wild, free.
“Peonies. Blush peonies to be exact.”
Blush peonies. Almost the color of Ellie’s cheeks when she blushed. Fuck. It might be too late. She’d likely never speak to him again. But Jackson Kincaid, the one he used to know and like, did not give up. In Ellie’s presence he felt alive. Her beauty and the way she treated people stunned him. He wanted that, he wanted to surround himself with her. What good was being a stubborn hardass if he couldn’t prove himself worthy of the first woman to crash through his walls? Now, what should be the first step in his apology? “Hmm.” He fingered the petals of one. “How many of these do you have in your shop today?”
“Another date, have ya?”
“More than that.” Hopefully.
“Well, that’s different now, dear, isn’t it? Been waiting for you to find someone special.”
“She’s too good for me.”
Clare sighed. “You’re old enough and smart enough to know any woman should be allowed to make up her own mind whether or not she wants to be with you. Please tell me you didn’t decide this for her?”
Jackson blinked back his shock. Not many people lectured or chastised him. “Clare,” he began.
She held up her hand. “Answer me this, do you like this woman?”
“I do.”
“Then let her make her own decisions. Now, I’ve got several dozen in the cooler, and a light work day. Want me to deliver them?”
They stared at each other for a moment and Jackson smiled his first smile in days. Hell yes! he thought. Clare might be delusional about her happy endings, but for once he was going to listen to her. He took out a business card and wrote the address to Ellie’s clinic and a short note on the back. “Thought you had a delivery man, Clare?” he inquired.
“It’s his day off. Your firm is my only client today and you know I always deliver and arrange the flowers here. But for you, young man, for someone different, which I’m certain she is,” she said with a wink, “I’d be thrilled to deliver them myself.”
“Don’t get any matchmaker ideas,” Jackson said. “I may have screwed up bigger than even I can fix.”
“Jackson Kincaid, you must not know me very well after all these years of friendship. Romance novel addict, met and married the love of my life, make my living on hoping the right people connect.” She patted his arm. “You may not believe you’re special, that you deserve someone precious to make you see that special, but I know better. And if there’s even a slim chance that”—she paused to read the note he’d written—“Ellie makes you unfocused and uncertain and interested in peonies, then you bet I’m going to check her out.” She put the card in her apron pocket. “I’ll save the matchmaking for after I meet her. Good day to ya.”
Years of friendship, he thought, watching the elevators close on her. He could use all the friends he could get.
Chapter Nine
“Uh, Ellie!” Nat called from her receptionist’s desk out front. “There’s someone here to see you.”
Ellie stood up from her crouch where she’d been inspecting the stitches of a dog she’d operated on. She stretched her back, not sure which exhausted her more, the actual work or the stress and worry over the animals. Honestly, the worry nearly flattened her at times.
“Ellie,” Nat said, walking to the back. “You need to get out here, pronto.”
“Prepare me. Is it an overbearing, intimidating, gorgeous man in a suit that cost more than a car, with a huge chip on his shoulder and the most amazing blue-green eyes you’ve ever seen, who happens to be a complete asshole?”
Nat stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “What?”
“Sorry. Never mind, I’ll take care of him myself.”
“Him?” Natalie asked.
“What the heck?” Ellie stopped, and Nat stumbled into her back. In the waiting room stood a woman with two huge bouquets of the most beautiful peonies Ellie had ever seen. Tall stems with huge blooms, many of which were still waiting to open. More bouquets in large vases lined the counter.
The lady holding the flowers smiled huge at Ellie. “You must be Ellie. Perfect,” she ended on a near whisper.
“What…are these?”
“If you’re Ellie, then I have a delivery for you from Mr. Kincaid. There’s a card here in my pocket for you, honey. Let me set these vases down.”
Ellie closed her eyes and shook her head. “No,” she whispered because she’d already been down that path of hope, which he’d crushed.
“Ah, it seems like there’s a story here. A good one from the looks of it.”
“Not a good one,” Ellie said, trying like crazy to ignore Nat’s eyes bugging out of her head.
“Hmm,” the woman said and her face grew tight with concern. “Well, I don’t know any part of the story that comes before, which puts me at a disadvantage, but I do know everyone deserves another chance. And every great story has moments that make our hearts hurt. Maybe your heart got bruised. But if we never hurt, then when love comes in, it wouldn’t feel quite so exquisite. Isn’t that right? A kind, generous man, who doesn’t have much beauty in his life, sent all these gorgeous flowers to you, honey. If that doesn’t say ‘Give me another chance,’ I don’t know what does. I’ve known Jackson for years and he’s never done something like this before.”
Still afraid and uncertain, she swallowed and breathed in the scent from the flowers, all five or six dozen of them. “Like what?” Ellie asked, letting herself hope a tiny bit.
“Veered off the normal path.”
“What do you mean?”
“Always red roses with his initials on the card. No more.”
“Oh.” Ellie’s face fell again. “He sends a lot of those?”
“Too many he doesn’t even think about it anymore. And never to the same woman twice. Never have I seen him gobsmacked like I did this morning. It’s about time something happened to shake that boy up. Or should I say someone.”
There was too much to take in with everything the woman said. Instead, Ellie closed it up inside her. “You know Mr. Kincaid?”
“Yes. I do the flowers for his office. Here you go.” She handed Ellie a card with the name of her flower shop, Luscious Garden, on it and one of Jackson’s cards with a handwritten message from him.
“Have fun tonight,” the woman said before she walked out of the door.
“There is so much going on I don’t even know where to begin or what questions to ask,” Natalie said. “You.” She pointed to Ellie. “Start talking.”
Ellie read the message on the card.
I’m a jerk, Ellie. I’m sorry. There were reasons I tried to shut this down. Give me another chance, please. I’ll pick you up at 6:30. Dress up. I’m taking you to one of my favorite restaurants. We’ll be enjoying something much better than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. These flowers reminded me of you.
Jackson.
Um, what? She reread the card. Even from the beginning when he’d been both bossy annoying and nice, he’d confused the heck out of her. Then he’d gone from exposing how much he liked her, calling her “babe,” and asking her out, to being a complete jerk on the phone Tuesday night to this? Reasons he tried to shut this down. What the heck did that mean? It might be stupid and her heart might end up more damaged, but she wanted to know why he’d acted interested in her, then had frozen her out without any explanation.
“Ellie.” Natalie interrupted her thoughts.
“Well, it, um… I guess I’m going out with Jackson Kincaid tonight.”
“You guess?” Natalie screeched. “Talk, now.”
“Jeesh, suddenly everyone’s so bossy.”
“Bossy?” Natalie yelled. “First of all, there are more than seven dozen expensive peonies out here for you from Mr. Jackson Kincaid, who you have a date with. A date! Should I remind you that since I’ve known you, for the past four years, you’ve never ever had a date? And do you even know who he is?!”
“Yes, Nat. I’m aware I haven’t had a date ever. You don’t need to rub it in.” Ellie’s voice was tight. It wasn’t like her complete lack of dating history felt good to her. No woman, even someone like her, who didn’t have much in the looks department, wanted to be reminded that she was essentially undatable.
“Ellie! The reason you haven’t had a date is because you work all the time, and when you aren’t at work or with people you feel safe with, which is me, Ruby, the Heelys, Molly or George, you keep yourself closed up and tuned out to the world around you. And even with us, it took you years to open yourself.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being careful who you trust,” Ellie said defensively.
“There is when you lock yourself up in a safe where no one can touch you. If you ever did anything besides work, say, like, made eye contact with cute men, and shined your light on them the way you do to people you care about, you would see that they would be racing to the finish line to win all that is you.” Natalie finished by waving her hand up and down Ellie’s body.
“What?” Ellie whispered.
“You don’t have a clue, do you, honey?” Natalie said. “I’d love to know what hell you lived through to make you feel that way, but I know you won’t tell me that either.”
She would never tell anyone about her past. And, duh, obviously she didn’t have a clue, but a friend shouting that at her did not make her feel good about herself. She’d taken her father’s insults and her mother’s abuse until she’d escaped, and she would not take it from anyone else.
