Jump Start by Lisa Renee Jones Page A

escape.
    Bobby pushed off the wall and sauntered toward her. Her heart thundered in her ears, her body thrummed with anticipation of the moment he would speak, the instant he would touch her. He stopped beside the chair, towering over her.
    “You’re not avoiding me?” he asked again.
    She shook her head, barely finding her voice. “No. I’m not avoiding you.”
    “Then you won’t mind if I stay right here with you,” he said, sitting down in the oversize chair with her and maneuvering her under his arm, against his chest.
    Jennifer relaxed into Bobby, his strong arms and body warming her inside and out. She was too tired to fight the intimacy, too tired to keep her walls up, to protect herself from getting hurt again. Jennifer rested her head on his chest and let her eyes slide shut, vowing to get things back on track and all about sex tomorrow.



9
    J ENNIFER’S CELL PHONE RANG on the nightstand by Marcie’s bed, and Jennifer jerked to a sitting position. She blinked awake and the sound of the phone jangling faded into a distant thrum as she found herself staring into Bobby’s deep blue eyes. Awareness rushed through her as she remembered lying down on his chest; she had been sleeping in his arms, was still in his arms.
    “Oh, God,” Marcie moaned. “Make it stop.” She knocked over a glass on the nightstand trying to find Jennifer’s phone. “Please have mercy. Please. Make it stop!”
    Jennifer shook herself into action, pushing out of Bobby’s arms, and snagging the phone just as it stopped ringing.
    Marcie leaned up and cast the 8:00 a.m. time on the clock a disapproving glance. She dropped to her back, covering her face with her hands. “Please tell me that call was necessary.”
    “It’s my service,” Jennifer said and punched the re-dial button. “They wouldn’t call unless a patient had an emergency. So yes. It’s necessary.” She’d arranged to open the clinic late that afternoon for a few hours.
    After talking to her service, Jennifer called her client, only to find out that her patient, a poodle, had eaten a bag of chocolates, and was sick.
    “How soon can you be at the office?” Jennifer asked the poodle’s owner, glancing at Bobby, who was watching her intently.
    As her client responded, Jennifer turned away from Bobby, surprised to hear how far the customer drove to see her, but pleased when she was told it was because she was trusted.
    Jennifer glanced at the clock. “Then nine-thirty? Does that work?”
    With the time set, Jennifer hung up the line, Bobby’s gaze catching hers, his expression unreadable, but warm, like those strong arms holding her only minutes before.
    “I’m going in your closet, Marcie,” Jennifer said. “I don’t have time to go home and shower and still make it to the clinic.”
    “If you will stop talking so loudly,” Marcie murmured, “I will give you my entire closet. Actually please stop talking. Please take what you need and leave.”
    Bobby smiled and stood up. “I’ll take that as a cue to go check on Mark.”
    Forty-five minutes later, Jennifer stood in Marcie’s kitchen surrounded by the aftermath of the party, a mess of trash, cups and food everywhere. Jennifer had showered and dressed, though her options had been limited considering Marcie dwarfed her by three inches and all her pants were too long. She’d settled on a simple black shell dress, bare legs and heels that thankfully fit.
    Jennifer poured coffee in a mug and set it in front of Marcie, who sat at the bar, her pale faced smudged with dark circles under her eyes.
    “Thank you,” Marcie said grumpily, and not all so convincingly.
    “I didn’t make the coffee for you,” Jennifer said. “I made it for everyone who has to tolerate you while hung over. I’m headed to the clinic so thankfully I’m not included in that group.”
    Marcie scoffed and shoved a clump of unruly hair from her eyes. She truly looked like death warmed over. “Oh, please. You’re no better than