A Gift from the Past by Carla Cassidy Page B

don’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to do.”
    â€œI shouldn’t have allowed things to go as far asthey did,” she said, her cheeks pinked and her gaze averted from his.
    â€œIt’s all right, Cookie…really.”
    Awkwardly, she scooted past him and off the bed and quickly grabbed her bra and her tank top, then disappeared into the bathroom.
    He grabbed his T-shirt and pulled it on, wondering how long he’d have to stand beneath a cold shower to douse the desire that still rocketed through his veins.
    He should have known that it was too soon for lovemaking. He’d been back just a little over a week and in that time they’d had few occasions to recreate the bond they’d once had.
    What he needed to do was romance his wife. He needed to court her, to bring back the magic they’d once had. He needed to make her fall in love with him all over again.
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    â€œI got pains where I didn’t know I had body,” Sarge complained as they finished up dinner that evening. Joshua had gone to get him soon after the scene in the bedroom and Claire had been grateful for the time alone to sort out her feelings where Joshua was concerned.
    â€œThat’s good,” Joshua said. “That means they were working muscles that needed to be worked.”
    â€œHmm, it’s nothing more than a legal form of torture,” Sarge replied.
    Claire smiled and got up to begin clearing thetable. Sarge might be doing a lot of complaining, but his color was good and he seemed more animated than he had in weeks.
    â€œI made arrangements for one of them fancy vans to pick me up in the mornings and take me to therapy, then bring me home in the afternoons,” he continued. “Figured that way I wouldn’t be putting anybody out, and besides, the folks at the hospital told me it was a free service.”
    â€œThat’s great, Sarge,” Claire replied. “And now, why don’t you two go on into the living room and let me clean up in here.”
    â€œYeah, I’m ready for a little television,” Sarge said.
    Claire breathed a sigh of relief as the two men left her alone. She’d thought she’d been sensitive to Joshua’s nearness in the past week, but since their afternoon intimacy, she was on edge as she hadn’t been before.
    Fortunately, Joshua hadn’t pressed the issue when she’d come out of the bathroom after dressing, and within minutes, had left to get Sarge from the hospital.
    Before she could get the table cleared off, Joshua returned to the kitchen. “Let me help,” he said and picked up the last two remaining glasses.
    â€œThat’s not necessary,” she protested, not wanting to spend a second alone with him. At the moment she felt far too vulnerable.
    He placed the glasses in the sink with the otherdirty dishes. “How about you rinse and I’ll load the dishwasher?” he said.
    What could she say? It would be churlish for her to reject his offer to help. She began rinsing off the dishes and handing them to him one at a time.
    â€œI think it’s a great sign that Sarge has arranged for his own transportation to and from the hospital,” he said.
    â€œIt shows he’s starting to think about a little independence.”
    â€œIt will make it easier for me to work at City Hall without having to worry about getting him to and from therapy,” she admitted, then added, “I worry about him, you know. He just hasn’t been himself since the stroke.”
    She couldn’t help but notice that each time Joshua took a dish from her his fingers seemed to linger a nanosecond too long on hers.
    â€œSarge is going to be just fine, Claire. He’s a survivor. He’ll get out of that wheelchair in no time now that he’s going to therapy.”
    She nodded. All she wanted to do was get the dishes done and get out of the kitchen, away from Joshua’s