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His Comfort and Joy
His Comfort and Joy
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His Comfort and Joy

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“Are you okay?” she said gruffly, as if she didn’t like being concerned for him. “You look like you’re really cold or something.”

No, he wasn’t cold. He could have jumped buck-naked into an ice bath and had the damn thing boiling in a matter of minutes.

“Gray?”

“I’m fine.” Yup, for a guy being tortured by his libido, he was just Jim-dandy.

He took his hand off the steering wheel and gave the throttle a push to speed them up. She might have a point about getting the ride over with.

“Your father seemed to enjoy himself tonight.”

“He did.”

There was a pause. “He looks better than when you and he ate at White Caps last month.”

“He’s coming along. It’s been hard for him.”

“And you, too, I imagine. I, ah, I saw how carefully you watched him tonight.”

The words were soft. He looked at her.

Joy was staring out at the lake.

“How’s your brother doing?” he asked, thinking she must know all about how tough it was to see someone suffer through rehab and recovery.

“He had another operation two weeks ago. They replaced his tibia with a titanium rod and he still might need to go back under the knife again. They’re not sure. He’s also been struggling with a post-op infection.” She pulled up the edge of the blanket and began braiding the fringe. “He’s been so brave. He never complains even though it’s obvious he’s in a great deal of pain. I think the hardest thing for us is the fact that he’s a terrible patient. He won’t take his meds a lot of the time. He drinks too much. And he never talks about what happened.”

Gray wanted to reach out for her hand.

“I’m really sorry,” he said instead.

Her eyes came to his face. “Thank you.”

“You take care of your grandmother, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility.”

Joy shrugged. “No one would tend to her as well as I’m able to. And she really can’t be alone. The dementia has taken away most of her internal logic and reasoning and replaced them with paranoia. We’re trying her on a new medication right now and I hope it calms her. I hate to see her distressed.”

“You’re a very good person, Joy,” he said abruptly.

She shrugged. “Alex and Grand-Em are my family. Of course I’d take care of them.”

“There’s no ‘of course’ about it.” His mother had had no compunction about letting others worry about him. Hell, when he’d contracted viral pneumonia in first grade, and had spent two weeks in a pediatric intensive care unit trying to breathe, he’d seen the woman only once. “They’re fortunate to have you care so much.”

Joy looked away. They were quiet for a while, but some of the tension had been eased.

It wasn’t until White Caps came into view that he broke the silence.

“I’m sorry about what happened tonight.”

She gave a short laugh. “This boat ride hasn’t been too hard to endure.”

“No, in the library.”

Joy stiffened. “Oh, that.”

Yeah, that.

“I’m glad Cassandra came in when she did,” he muttered, replaying the scene in his head and having to shift in his seat.

“So am I.” Her voice had an edge.

So he had offended her, he thought.

Gray cleared his throat. “I don’t want you to think that I’d ever…take advantage of a woman.”

“Believe me, I don’t,” she said dryly.

As he pulled into the dock, he knew she was angry again, but he didn’t regret making the apology. It had been the right thing to do.

He threw a rope around a cleat to keep the boat in place and then lifted out her bike. He wanted to say something else, but she didn’t give him the chance.

“I can take that up,” she said quickly. “Thanks for the ride.”

And without a backward glance, she rushed away, the wheels of her bike bumping along the dock planks.

He watched her until she was all the way up to the house, heading around the corner, disappearing out of sight.

He had an absurd impulse to run after her.

But then what?

Then he would take her into his arms and pull her so close that he’d feel every breath she took. And he’d kiss her until neither one of them could stand up.

Get in this boat, he told himself. And go home, Bennett.

It was another ten minutes before he could make himself leave.

Joy marched up the lawn, grip tight on the bars of her bike.

God, he’d apologized.

How humiliating was that? As if she needed the confirmation that what he’d been feeling had had nothing to do with her. Sure he’d been happy to see Cassandra! Happier still, no doubt, to hear she was heading for bed. Because he’d clearly been thinking of the redhead when he’d become…well, aroused.

And of course, he didn’t take advantage of women. A man like him didn’t have to, because who would turn him down? God, as much as she hated to admit it, she wouldn’t have. If he’d reached out to her, she would have stepped right into his arms and opened herself up to him, even though he’d had another woman in his mind.

Could the situation with him get any worse? she wondered. Her fantasies had been bad enough, but now she actually knew what his body felt like.

Okay, so it had only been for a second, but the impression was indelible.

And the idea he was going home to put that hard length of his to good use was a total nightmare.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

Her date with Tom tomorrow night was a godsend. It really was. Honestly. She needed to try to connect with someone she could actually—

The toe of her shoe caught a tree root and she pitched forward. Dropping the bike and pin-wheeling her arms, she managed to recover her balance before she face-planted into a pachysandra bed. But absurdly, tears pricked her eyes.

She wanted to curse.

Except she didn’t know why meeting Gray’s lover should bother her so much. The man was completely out of her league and she knew it. He was sophisticated and urbane and…she was a virgin, for heaven’s sake.

Joy put her hands over her face, wincing at her own inexperience. It wasn’t that she hadn’t had boyfriends. There had been a few, back in high school. But when college had rolled around, she’d had to work to help pay her way. The guys she’d met then were into partying and having fun. Between her course load and her two jobs, she’d been exhausted most of the time and not exactly the poster girl for a happy-go-lucky relationship. And as soon as she’d graduated, she’d come home to take care of Grand-Em. Saranac Lake was a small community so there weren’t a lot of eligible guys her own age to date. Besides, taking care of Grand-Em was an around-the-clock kind of job.

So how was she supposed to have found a man she really wanted to be with?

God, she was a fossil. At the age of twenty-seven, she was a total fossil.

Joy dropped her hands and glanced up at the sky. The stars overhead were blurry.

She should have known right off the bat that the night was going to end badly.

Getting hit with a tortellini air raid the minute she’d walked into the man’s house could not be, had not been, a harbinger of good things.

As she forced herself to pick up the bike and start walking, she thought at least one prediction of hers had come true. She wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight.

So she might as well get back to work on her sister’s wedding gown.

Chapter Four

The next morning, Joy threw down her pin cushion as Frankie tore out of the bedroom. In the wedding gown.

“Frankie! Wait, you can’t—”

“I have to catch Stu before he leaves! His phone is out.”

Joy leaped to her feet and ran after her sister, figuring at least she could grab the skirting and keep it off the ground. Assuming she could catch up. When she finally got within range, Frankie was flying out the kitchen door. Together, they hightailed it for Stu’s produce truck.

Wiry, ancient Stu was about to get in the cab, John Deere cap pulled down low, coveralls hanging off him like a sack. The old man was a typical Adirondack woodsman. Which meant if he was surprised to see Frankie coming at him in a wedding gown, you’d never know it.

“Nate and Spike need a special delivery of arugula,” Frankie said breathlessly. “Is there any way—”

“Yup.”

“By Tuesday?”

“Yup.”

“Stu, you are a magician! Thank you.”

There was a pause. “Yup.”

Stu doffed his cap and climbed up into the truck. Just as he was about to take off, a car came down the driveway.

It was a big BMW. Gray’s.

Joy nearly dropped the dress, at least until the lovely redhead got out. Then she began squeezing the fabric in her fists. She dropped the skirting before she got it sweat stained.

Frankie lifted a hand in greeting. “Good morning.”

“Hi.” Cassandra smiled in a small, tight way, as if she were uncomfortable. But then her eyes narrowed on the gown. “Good Lord, that’s marvelous.”

Frankie did a twirl. The white satin skirt billowed out as if the fabric knew it was time to show off. “Isn’t it?”

“Who’s it by? Narciso Rodriguez? No, Michael Kors.”

“Her.” Frankie pointed at Joy.

Cassandra’s eyes widened. “You did this?”

Joy nodded.

The redhead walked around Frankie, inspecting seams and folds. “You designed and made it yourself?”

“It’s a hobby.”

“You’re very good. Do you have any others?”

“Gowns? No. Designs? Tons of them. I could wallpaper the house with what I’ve sketched.”

“You’re quite good.” Cassandra smiled more widely, but the expression faded as she looked at Frankie. “I probably should have called first. I, uh, I was hoping Alex would see me.”

Frankie nodded. “Come on in. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

As they walked over to the kitchen door, Cassandra smiled at Joy. “And maybe afterward, you could show me some more of your work?”

Joy shrugged as they went inside, figuring the woman was just being polite. “I was refining a few sketches this morning during breakfast. They’re over here on the table.”

Cassandra went right to them and her focus was so intense, it was intimidating.

Joy sank down in a chair, wishing she hadn’t been so quick to offer up her work. No one but her family had ever seen her designs. And here was a woman dressed in an Escada jacket and slacks pouring over an amateur’s pathetic scratchings. Joy wanted to grab the drawings. Hide them. Protect them.

Cassandra went through the loose pile, sliding the thick sheets one on top of another. Joy wanted to point out errors, mistakes, places where she thought she could do better. But she couldn’t find her voice.

Besides, no doubt Cassandra would find the faults herself.