When You Were Mine (Second Chances 2)

Admittedly, the testing was something he hadn’t even considered. He’d breathed a sigh of relief when she’d told him that she’d ended up testing negative for everything. The thought that she could have inadvertently gotten anything from that toolbag was a horrifying thought.

Eventually, she said, “So, that’s the deal. I’m just now moving on with my life and I don’t want to jump into anything too quickly. I don’t want either one of us to get hurt.”

She looked so hesitant, so lost, that he pulled her into his arms and held her. After a moment, the stiffness left her body and she relaxed against him with a sigh. As he stroked a hand over her hair, he said, “I meant what I said before. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Her voice was so soft that he barely heard her say, “I want you, but...”

“Let’s just take our time,” Jamie said, brushing his lips across the top of her head.

* * * *

He was going completely insane. It was official.

It had been two weeks since he’d helped Cora install her sink. They

ended up cuddled on the couch watching movies until the late hours of the night. They had seen each other several times since then. They had gone out to dinner, been to the movies, and done their share of hanging out at their respective places.

A few nights ago they had decided to go to the Santa Monica Pier. Neither of them had been in years. They got dinner at the tapas place near the end of the pier and wandered through the shops. Seeing the look of relaxed happiness on her face had been great. It had reminded him of the old, carefree Cora.

She was still a little bit leery about the prospect of dating him. Given her history, he understood that. He was going to let her make the next move, even if it killed him. And at this rate, it very well might. Each night had ended with nothing more than a chaste kiss on the lips.

She had just canceled lunch plans on him. One of her patients was having a crisis and booked an emergency session. Between her pro bono work on the weekends and the emergency sessions that ended up being booked three times a week, she was working sixty hours a week. He had always known that she was dedicated, but seeing it in action was kind of impressive.

He refocused his attention on the ad he was designing for the dentist next door. He’d taken one look at his business card and offered him a free consultation. That had apparently done the trick, because he was able to book several more throughout the building via word of mouth.

So far he’d designed a new logo, new business card, and now they were working on a postcard mailer. He really enjoyed this part of his work more than anything else. It was incredibly rewarding to take the vague image that someone saw in their mind, and turn it into something real and tangible.

After he finished the proof he had been working on, he had emailed it over for approval. It was, he decided, time for lunch. He’d gotten to work at eight that morning and had worked steadily until three thirty without much of a break.

He moved back into the kitchenette and grabbed sandwich fixings from the fridge. He had dinner plans with Cora tonight. It was a little late in the day to order in. Ham and cheese would have to do, he decided.

After he finished up his sandwich, he fielded a call from the furniture vendor that was sending over his conference table. It had apparently been dropped during shipping and had a small scratch. The table was now on back order.

Because the table had been exactly what he wanted, he agreed to go look at it. If the scratch was superficial enough, he might be able to take it as is. Hopefully that would be the case. His conference room looked silly with a large open space, and several rolling chairs.

Quickly, he texted Cora to see if she’d be all right with going with him to look at the table. It wasn’t exactly an exciting evening. The only upside is that it was near a great barbeque place.

By the time that six rolled around, he had sent the proof to press along with the mailing list. The client had really liked it and was excited to move forward. The marketing piece would drop into mailboxes by the end of next week.

Ready to leave, he gathered up his laptop bag and locked up his office. As he made his way down the hall toward Cora’s office, he heard shouting. Unsure where it was coming from, he hurried the rest of the way to her office and pulled the door open.

What he found was an older man that looked to be drunk, or maybe on something. He wore a stained flannel and torn jeans. His wild hair and dirty skin made it difficult to tell how old he was.

He was shouting at Cora, who stood behind the receptionist’s desk, holding up her hands in a placating motion. Her face was completely blank with calm.

Jamie stood stock-still, not sure whether this was a patient. He sincerely hoped this wasn’t a common occurrence. He didn’t think he could take it.

“Sir,” Cora said, her voice shaky. “I’m not sure who you think I am but I don’t know you. I’d like to call someone who can help you, though.”

Jamie felt a pang in his chest, hearing the tremor in Cora’s voice. He took a quiet step toward the man.

“You bitch,” the man slurred. “You ruined my fucking life and you don’t even know who I am?”

Cora continued to hold up her hands in defense and stammer until Jamie saw the man take a step toward her. Closing the rest of the distance between them, Jamie grabbed his arm and cut him off. Quietly he said, “You need to go. Now. Or I’m calling the cops. You’re not welcome here.”

The man turned with a jolt, blinked at him blearily a few times, and then decided to heed the warning. Jamie had almost a foot on him and at least thirty pounds of muscle.

With one last look at Cora he pointed and said, “We’re not through here, bitch.”