Husband Needed

Even given her unexpected presence, he still hated being laid up this way. It put a real crimp in his style, not to mention the fact that he had too much to do to be slowed down.

Jack didn’t realize he’d spoken that last thought aloud until Kayla said, “That’s what I’m here for. To help you.”

So why was it that Jack had the sudden feeling that Kayla would end up doing more harm than good to his bachelor life?

Two

“So, what did you think of my nephew?” Ralph Enteman asked Kayla as she drove away from Jack’s building. Ralph had called her on her cellular phone.

“He’s everything you said he was...and more,” she replied.

Recognizing the irritation in her voice, Ralph said, “You’re not going to quit, are you?”

“Of course not! In fact, I’m on my way now to get your nephew some groceries and other necessities.” In her opinion, Jack could definitely also use some common courtesy and patience with a little cooperation thrown in. Unfortunately none of those things could be picked up at any store. Talk about being obstinate...the man could give lessons to a mule!

As if reading her mind, Ralph said, “I did try to warn you that Jack could be stubborn.”

“Yes, you did. But apparently you didn’t warn him that I was coming to his apartment. Jack mistook me for someone else. He tried to smack me over the head with his crutch.”

“Oh no! I know he’s got a temper, but I never thought he’d do anything violent.”

Kayla felt compelled to clarify. “In his defense, he thought I was trying to break into his apartment.”

“Oh. Well then, his reaction makes sense. Someone did break in and rob him a few months back, although that neighborhood is much better than where he used to live. The thing is, Jack isn’t a man to just sit around and do nothing if threatened.”

“Believe me, I wasn’t at all threatening. Quite the opposite.” Kayla was tempted to add that she’d had her daughter with her, but she wasn’t sure what Ralph’s reaction would be. After all, Jack hadn’t been that pleased to see Ashley.

But Kayla had a schedule and nothing messed with it, even handsome firefighters like Jack. Today was Wednesday, and on Wednesdays Kayla kept Ashley with her until one p.m., when she dropped her off at the Windy City Day Care Center. One of the things Kayla liked about her work was the ability to take Ashley with her now and then. Most workdays Kayla did leave her daughter in child care, but there were certain days, like today, when they shared time together.

Stopping at a red light, Kayla shot a smile over to Ashley, who was strapped into the car seat and happily talking to her favorite toy—a rather battered teddy bear named Hugs. The bear was even older than three-year-old Ashley, because Kayla had bought it for her the day she’d found out she was pregnant. There had been some tough times in the intervening years, and the toy’s brown fur had now faded to a dark beige from numerous washings.

“Anyway, I’m sorry Jack upset you,” Ralph was saying.

“He didn’t upset me,” Kayla assured him. After all, it wouldn’t do for her client to think that she was easily distracted. She wanted him to appreciate her calmness and reliability. She wanted him to think of her as a woman who got the job done. “We got everything settled, no problem.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear that.”

After hanging up her cellular phone, Kayla told herself that she hadn’t lied to Ralph. As far as she was concerned, everything was settled between Jack and her. And that sizzle of attraction she’d felt when she’d handed him her pen had been a figment of her imagination. She refused to even consider any other explanation.

“Anyone home?” This time Kayla made sure to announce her return to Jack’s apartment. She’d tried ringing the buzzer, but there had been no reply. And after his former blunder, Kayla didn’t trust Ernie the Doorman anymore. The fact that Ernie had asked her if she was Jack’s “latest” hadn’t exactly endeared him to her, either.

“This is your second time here today, not that I pry into other people’s business,” Ernie had told her in a monotone so deadpan it would put a caffeine-freak to sleep. What little hair Ernie had was carefully combed back from his forehead in a futile attempt to give him the image of having more hair than he actually did. His uniform fit his hefty build so snugly that the buttons were straining, as if ready to launch themselves across the lobby.

Despite his disclaimer about prying into other people’s business, Kayla had sensed that Ernie had been more than willing to give her the lowdown on Jack, but she hadn’t stayed to chat. It was already after three, and she had other clients and other errands to run before calling it a day. But she had accepted Ernie’s help in transporting several bags of groceries up to Jack’s front door.

“Jack, it’s Kayla,” she called out as she pushed the door open a little further. She had two plastic bags of food in one hand. The list of groceries he’d given her had cost her nearly eighty dollars, and most of it was junk food. “I’ve got your groceries. Anyone here? I’m not a burglar or belly dancer...” she couldn’t resist adding with a grin. “Hello?”

She made it into the living room without Jack taking any kamikaze swings at her with his crutch. In fact, she didn’t see any sign of him. For a moment she panicked, wondering if he’d fallen and hurt himself. An image flashed into her mind of him lying in the bedroom, injured, unable to get up. Then she registered the sound of the shower running.

Her mental image switched from him lying on the bedroom floor, to him lying in the bathroom, his chest bare...perhaps even all of him bare.

“Oh, great, that’s very helpful,” she muttered under her breath. “Having steamy fantasies about your client when the poor man is injured and could be in trouble.”

So what should she do? Knock on the bathroom door and make sure he was okay? Let him know she was there? She certainly didn’t want him walking out of the bathroom nude or anything. He seemed the type to do just that. Yet she didn’t want to startle him, either. He might slip in the shower and break his other leg.

Putting her ear to the door, she heard him singing. Okay, that meant he wasn’t in trouble. In fact, his voice wasn’t half-bad. Neither was the rest of him. The rebellious thought slipped into her mind before she could stop it.

“That’s enough of that,” she muttered under her breath. “Get your mind out of the shower!”

In the end, Kayla decided to write a note telling him she was there. She taped it to the bathroom door. She’d no sooner done that than the phone started ringing. Expecting an answering machine to pick up, she waited for seven rings before the noise drove her crazy, forcing her to answer it herself. She’d never been able to just ignore a ringing phone—after all, it might be an important call.

“Mr. Elliott’s residence,” she said briskly, juggling the six-pack of soda she was trying to place into the fridge at the same time.

“Who is this?” a woman’s voice demanded. “Where is Jack?”

Wishing now that she hadn’t answered the phone, Kayla said, “He’s in the shower.”

“In the shower?” the woman repeated in disbelief. “What kind of answer is that?”

“The best one I’ve got,” Kayla retorted. “May I tell him who’s calling?”

“Misty. And have him call me back as soon as he gets out!”

“Fine. Does he have your number?”

“Honey, he knows me inside and out,” the woman purred before hanging up.

Kayla had no sooner hung up the phone than it rang again. She’d automatically picked it up before realizing what she’d done. “Hello?” she said before belatedly tacking on, “Elliott residence.”

“Oh, my, you’re not Jack!” Caller number two had a husky female voice that was made all the more sultry by a Southern accent.

“That’s right,” Kayla said cheerfully. “I’m not Jack.”

“Which girl are you?” the woman asked. “You don’t sound like the snippy attorney who was chasing him last week. And you’re not the waitress with the English accent, either.”

Kayla began wondering if that was how Jack had broken his leg, from being chased by endless lines of women.

“Mr. Elliott is unavailable at the moment,” Kayla stated. “May I take a message for him?”

“Tell him Mandy is worried about him and willing to drop everything to come on over there to take care of him. He just has to say the word and I’ll be right there.”

“I’ll tell him.”

By the time Jack came out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a smile and a pair of running shorts, Kayla had collected a stack of nearly half a dozen messages—all from women with names that rhymed.

“You got calls from Misty and Mandy, Tammy and Sammy, Barbie and Bobbie,” she said, trying to keep a straight face.

“What are you laughing at?” he demanded defensively.

“Nothing.” Her earlier amusement disappeared as the details of his appearance belatedly sank in with her.

He’d looked good before but now...now he was raw masculinity incarnate. More of him was bare than was covered. He was a throwback to another age, a time when men survived by their physical strengths.

Although solidly built, there wasn’t an ounce of extra flesh on him. Dark hair covered his chest, trailing down from collarbone to navel, but not so thick that she couldn’t see the ridges of muscles beneath. He radiated presence and power—a knight minus his shining armor.

Which left her as what...a damsel in distress? Realizing she’d been holding her breath since he’d walked in the kitchen, she belatedly inhaled. She could smell the fresh scent of his soap. Her gaze fastened on the single droplet of water slowly meandering down toward the waistband of his running shorts, which clung to his still-damp lower torso.

The silence was deafening as Kayla heard the increased pounding of her own heartbeat. She saw the way his chest rose and fell. Was he breathing faster, too? Her eyes lifted to meet his. Only then did she realize how pale he was.

Quickly gathering her wits, Kayla asked, “Uh...are you supposed to be taking a shower so soon after breaking your leg? When did you break your leg, anyway?”

“Yesterday.”

“Yesterday!” His answer evaporated her steamy fantasies as concern took their place. “And you’re singing in the shower today? Are you crazy?”

“Probably,” he muttered, grimacing at the pain shooting up his right leg.

“A three-year-old would have more sense! Here, you’d better sit down before you fall down,” she said, scooting a kitchen chair over to him.

“I’m not an invalid,” he snapped.

“No. You’re an idiot!” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

She immediately clapped her hand to her lips with such a look of guilt that Jack had to smile.

“No, don’t hold back,” he teased her. “Go ahead and tell me what you really think.”

“I think you should sit down.”

“I’ll never get used to these stupid crutches by sitting down.”

“What’s your hurry? Didn’t the doctor tell you to take things easy for the first few days?”

“I’ve had emergency medical training. I know what I’m doing. What are your qualifications?” he growled irritably. Willing himself past the pain wasn’t working, and the pain medication the doctor had prescribed made him too damn groggy.

“I broke my leg once. When I was ten,” Kayla told him.

“Oh, and I suppose that makes you an expert?”

“Are you always this grouchy or does a broken leg bring out the worst in you?” she inquired in exasperation. Remembering that he hated anyone fussing over him, she deliberately focused her attention on unpacking the remaining groceries.

“Very funny.”

“Not really,” Kayla replied, opening a cabinet and finding it empty except for... She held up two plastic bags of dried beans. “Having nothing to eat in the kitchen but lentils, now that’s funny.”

“I don’t know how they even got in the kitchen,” Jack muttered. Deciding enough time had passed to make his point—that he wasn’t a weakling who obeyed orders—he carefully made his way the three steps to the kitchen chair, hoping it didn’t look like he collapsed into it. “I hate lentils,” he said, before reaching over and snagging a clean T-shirt from the laundry basket on the kitchen table.

“Maybe one of your girlfriends brought them for you,” Kayla said, trying not to notice the way his muscles rippled as he lifted his arms to tug the T-shirt over his head. The movement ruffled his still-damp dark hair, adding to his roguish appearance.

“None of my girlfriends know how to cook,” Jack replied.

“Really? You mean you weren’t attracted to them because of their culinary talents?”

He didn’t took amused.

Delighted to be provoking him for a change, Kayla continued. “You know, I’ve heard there’s safety in numbers, but I’ve never seen such a remarkable example of it before.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Come on. Misty, Mandy, Tammy, Bambi...”

“I don’t know a Bambi,” Jack inserted, enjoying the way her blue eyes lit up with humor. He’d only seen that intense shade of blue once before, in a kitten he’d befriended as a kid. Eyes so full of life.

“No Bambi, huh?” Kayla said. “Well, I’m sure it won’t take you long to remedy that. How can you keep them all apart with names so similar?”

“That’s not a problem. Randi has long red hair and the biggest pair of...eyes you ever saw.”

“Never mind.” The humor in Kayla’s eyes was replaced with a flash of something else, something he couldn’t identify. “Forget I asked.”

“No way. The least I can do is satisfy your...curiosity.”

“That’s all you’re gonna satisfy, buster,” she muttered under her breath.

“What did you say?”

“I was just talking to myself.”

“Lonely people do that a lot, I hear.”

“I’m not lonely,” she denied.

“No?”

“No. I have a daughter and I lead a very full life.”

“Even if you’re not an exotic dancer?”

His mocking voice sneaked under her defenses, making its way to her heart like a shot of whiskey. Not that she had much experience with whiskey. She was more the milk shake type herself.

“I still can’t believe you ever thought that,” she said.

“Why not?”

“Because. I mean, I’m not...I don’t have the right kind of body.... Never mind.”

Jack grinned. “For what it’s worth, I think you definitely have the right kind of body. The kind I like.”

“From the number of women who called you, it sounds as if you like all kinds of female bodies,” she tartly retorted.

“Hey, there’s always room for one more.”

“I don’t care for crowds.” Her voice got that prim tone again, the one that made him want to kiss her.

“I’m not wild about crowds, either,” he murmured.

“You couldn’t prove it by those calls.”

“Ah, but one-on-one is always best, don’t you think so?”

“I think this discussion has gotten way out of hand,” she declared in a no-nonsense tone of voice.

“And here I was, thinking things were just getting interesting.... Wait a second. What’s that?” Jack demanded as she pulled a six-pack out of the grocery bag.

“Beer.”

“It’s not the right kind of beer. That’s not what I wrote on the list.”

“They didn’t carry that imported brand. The liquor clerk told me this one would taste the same.”

“Well, he lied. It doesn’t. One is ale, this is just a pale imitation.”

“Fine—” she snatched the six-pack back from him “—I’ll pick up your imported beer tomorrow.”

“And these aren’t the right kind of beer nuts, either,” Jack grumbled, eyeing the can he’d removed from one of the plastic bags still littering the floor. “These are honey roasted. I wanted salted.”

“I had no idea I was dealing with such a gourmet.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “I know what I like. Do you have a problem with that?”

“I’m not the one with a problem,” she muttered under her breath.

“Implying that I am?” he retorted,

“You’re the one with the broken leg.”

“What a brilliant observation.”

She’d observed plenty of other things about him, like the way his dark hair tumbled over his forehead as it dried, the intensity of his smoky eyes, the breadth of his shoulders—swimmer’s shoulders. And then there was his mouth. When he’d grinned at her a few minutes ago, it had been like watching the sun come out. Crinkly laugh lines had suddenly appeared at the corners of his lips and his eyes. The gleam of devilish humor in his gray eyes made them seem even more awesome than usual.

Belatedly realizing he’d caught her staring at him, she hurriedly said, “So exactly how did you break your leg?”

“I told you, I broke it in the line of duty. You didn’t seem too interested in hearing the details this morning.”

“That’s because you rattled me.”

“Really?”

“Who wouldn’t be rattled when a madman comes at them, waving a crutch and shouting like a banshee?”

“Why do I get the feeling that there isn’t much that rattles you?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. And you still haven’t answered my question about how you broke your leg.”

“Would you believe I broke it falling out of bed at the firehouse?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether or not that’s the truth.”

“It’s one version of it.”

“Truth doesn’t have versions.”

“Sure it does. Ask any cop. You get three witnesses and you’ll get three different versions of the truth.”

“So what’s your version?”

“I got clumsy.” Fighting fire left no place for being clumsy. “Fire is a jealous taskmaster,” he murmured, almost as if he were talking to himself. “She doesn’t like it when you take your attention off her, even for a second.”

“So fire is a female?”

Jack nodded.

In exasperation, she said, “Why is it that anything disastrous is female—hurricanes and now fires?”

“Hurricanes are named after guys now,” he pointed out. “But something as beautiful and powerful as fire has to be female. She’s like a living thing that eats...and hates. And in her eyes you’re nothing more than fuel. That’s all you are. Fuel.”

Kayla shivered. There was just something so matter-of-fact in his voice. “How can you talk about it that way? So calmly?”

“Because I fight fire. It’s what I do.”

“And doing it broke your leg?”

He shrugged. “I told you, I got clumsy. You’ve seen me on these crutches and you’ve got to agree, I’m not the most graceful guy you’ve ever seen.”

Not the most graceful, no—but certainly the most powerful. Yet for all of his strength, she experienced this sudden need to look after him. “Did you get your cast wet when you took your shower?”

“Nope. I put a garbage bag around it because the doc said to keep it dry.”

“What other orders did the doctor gave you yesterday?”

“Hey, no one gives me orders outside of the firehouse.”

Kayla sighed. Her instincts were right. This guy definitely needed a keeper. “Meaning you probably ignored whatever orders the doctor gave you, right? That was real bright. Do you enjoy being in pain?”

“Want me to tell you what I enjoy?” Jack countered, his gaze focused on her lush lips.

“I already know.”

“You do?”

She nodded and held up a bag of corn chips. “Junk food.”

“Among other things. Lots of other things.”

Kayla refused to be distracted. “Did the doctor give you a prescription?”

Jack nodded.

“Let me guess. You didn’t get it filled, did you.”

The look on his face said it all.

“What is it about men that makes them so stupid?” she demanded in annoyed exasperation. “Are they born that way or is it learned behavior? I think they’re born that way,” Kayla answered herself. “It’s some sort of defective gene, the same one that makes men refuse to ask directions or read instructions.”

“What do we need to read instructions for?”

“To get the job done faster.”

“There are plenty of times when slower is better,” he murmured, the look he gave her making it clear what those times were.

“Oh, I see. So slower is better when you’re in pain from a broken leg? Sure, that makes sense. Why take medication to make you feel better, right? I mean, that would be admitting that you’re human. That once in a blue moon you might need some help. Heaven forbid that should ever happen!”

Jack glared at her. His humor wasn’t helped by the fact that his leg was really throbbing in earnest now.

Seeing the pain etched on his face, Kayla felt remorse for yelling at Jack, even though he did deserve it. “If you’ll give me the doctor’s prescription, I’ll go get it filled for you,” she said quietly.

“Forget it. The stuff made me too groggy.”

“How do you know? You haven’t even taken it yet.”

“They gave me one at the hospital. I’ve got some over-the-counter stuff around here someplace. I’ll take a couple of those.”

“You bet you will,” she said, spying the bottle of analgesics near the kitchen sink. “What would you like to drink with it? Water or soda?”

“I’d say beer, if you’d gotten the right brand.”

“You’re not supposed to drink beer when taking these,” she told him. “Where do you keep your glasses?” she asked as she searched through the cabinets.

“I don’t have any right now. Just give me the can of soda.”

She did.

Jack took the pills, tilting back his head as he drank half the can in one go. He knew she was watching him. She’d been watching him since he’d gotten out of the shower. But there was a wariness in her gaze that didn’t sit well with him. Never one to beat around the bush, Jack said, “So who was the guy who gave you such a warped view of men?”

“I don’t have a warped view of men,” she immediately denied. “If anything, I have a clearer view than most.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I was married.”

“I guessed that much. And now you’re...?”

“Divorced.” She reached for another bag of groceries, noting that the chocolate mint ice cream had almost melted. Normally she had a system to putting away groceries, one that involved putting away the perishables first. But Jack’s appearance, half-naked and still dripping from his shower, had flustered her.

“What happened?”

“What do you mean what happened?” she repeated, worrying that he’d noticed the melting ice cream and somehow guessed he was the reason for it.

“With your marriage.”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

“You’re not over him yet?”

“What makes you say that?”

“The look in your eyes. Kitten blue eyes. Ah, now they’re going all frosty. And when you laugh, they kind of shimmer.”

“I’ll bet you say that to all your girlfriends,” she declared before realizing what company that put her in. “Not that I’m one of your girlfriends,” she hurriedly clarified.

“Not yet,” Jack murmured.

“Not ever.” Pulling her scattered thoughts together, Kayla reached into her purse. “The bank put a rush on getting your new checks in. Until then, here are some temporary checks. The cash you wanted with your ATM card is in this envelope. And here’s the receipt for the groceries—the total was seventy-three sixteen. You can make me out a check for that.” She handed him the temporary checks, receipt and a pen.

“How do I make it out?” he asked.

“To Errands Unlimited. And don’t forget to call your friends back. You know, Misty and the gang....”

“They can wait. First I’m calling Vito’s Pizza for dinner.”

“Are you going to be okay here tonight?”

“Why?” Jack countered. “Are you offering to stay with me?”

“No. Misty and the gang were more than willing to come over and hold your hand.”

He shot her a devilish smile, one that was slow and sultry. “They just have a thing for a man in a uniform.”

“You’re not in a uniform now,” she noted with a telling look at his bare legs.

“So you noticed.”