Magic In A Jelly Jar

She froze, caught her breath, then turned around slowly, cautiously, as if she couldn’t believe she’d been caught like this. Her eyes were red and glistened with unshed tears. Her nose was a little red, as well. Tear tracks led down her cheeks, giving way to splotches of wetness on her dark blue blouse, and her mouth was trying to work itself into a smile, but failing.

She looked utterly miserable. And adorable. And very kissable.

He wanted to kiss her. That definitely wasn’t part of the plan. He was just supposed to make her feel a little better, to hold her until she managed to dry her tears—no kisses involved.

She hung her head, apparently not willing to meet his gaze any longer. Joe dipped his head low and tried to get her to look at him again.

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong, Doc?” he invited, making himself comfortable leaning against the side of her desk while she remained seated in that huge chair.

She swiped at her tears, missing half of them in her haste, then couldn’t stop more from falling.

“Come on,” he said gently, leaning closer, thinking about pulling her into his arms. “You can tell me.”

He figured he owed her. After all, she’d made him laugh this morning on the phone. How long had it been since he’d laughed like that? The idea of her being stern with a kid just did him in. It was as hopeless as the idea that he’d be able to leave her alone like this.

No way, he told himself.

She rolled her chair back so she could get away from him, but he slid across the desk until he was right in front of her, half sitting on the edge of it. He leaned over, catching her chair by its arms, then reached for her hands, instead. With one fluid motion he pulled her to him, had her plastered against him and clinging to him, this trembling mass of woman, smelling incredible and feeling like a frightened kitten that needed to be gentled to his touch and taught that she had nothing to fear from him.

He drank in the scent of her, because she did smell very good. And she was a tiny little thing, all silky hair and shaky breaths and tears. They just kept falling.

“Tell me,” he said again, knowing she wouldn’t feel better until she got it out.

Her face was pressed against his chest, the contact muffling the sound as she whispered to him, “I was just talking to Abbie.”

“Abbie?” He stroked her hair and bent down closer. “Who’s Abbie?”

“A little girl. A nine-year-old girl. And she was crying and telling me that life just isn’t fair. Which I knew already. But why did she have to learn that at nine? Why does any kid?”

“I don’t know, Doc.” He sighed and tightened his arms around her, because she was still trembling badly.

He should have known this had something to do with a kid in trouble. Any woman who went to so much trouble to help little children not to be so afraid at the dentist obviously had a major soft spot where kids were concerned.

He wondered just what this Abbie was to her. Obviously she cared about the little girl very much. “Tell me about Abbie.”

“She lives in Seattle and I haven’t seen her in months. And I miss her so much,” Samantha whispered.

Joe held her through the worst of it, until her sobs subsided and the trembling ceased, until he felt some warmth come back into her and then tension as she became aware of exactly where she was and who she was with.

He felt her stiffen in his arms, felt her pull away slightly, then saw her staring at him as if she was suddenly afraid. Then she couldn’t get away fast enough. Color flooded her cheeks and she jumped back, hitting her chair. She probably would have fallen if his hands hadn’t shot out and grabbed her again.

“Steady,” he said. “I don’t bite.”

Warily she dried her eyes and curled her bottom lip over her bottom row of teeth. If she even came close to gnawing on that delectable lower lip of hers, he was going to stop her.

By kissing her.

He’d take that lip of hers between his for safekeeping.

Samantha pushed a stray hair behind her ears and looked around the room as if she needed to reassure herself that she truly was in her own office, that this really happened.

“I’m so sorry,” she began, then just stood there with her mouth hanging open.

It made him think of kissing her again, which no gentleman would do right now, because that would clearly be taking advantage of her. And Joe had always thought of himself as a gentleman.

But he was tempted. So tempted.

Flustered, Samantha straightened her coat, then her hair again, then wiped her face dry. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right, Doc. It’s your office. You can cry all you want.”

Color flooding her cheeks again, she reached for him, her fingertips brushing past chest. “I got your shirt all wet.”

He sucked in a breath and fought the urge to catch her hand and hold it there against him. “The shirt’s been wet before. No harm done.”

“I’m sorry.” She looked utterly miserable and embarrassed and at a loss for anything else to say.

Joe decided the woman was in dire need of someone to take care of her, to watch over her and fuss over her and reassure her a little. Wasn’t there anyone around to do that for her?

He reached for her hand and held it in both of his. Her palm was flat against his, his other hand stroking the back of hers. “Who do you go home to at the end of the day, Doc?”

“I used to go home to Felix,” she mumbled, tugging her hand from his.

“Felix?” He certainly didn’t sound like much competition.

“He’s a dog.”

“A real one?” Joe asked hopefully. “Or the kind who walks on two legs?”

She laughed a little then. “Four legs, wags his tail—a real dog.”

“That’s it? A dog?”

She nodded.

“You don’t even have him anymore?”

“No,” she said sadly.

“No family?” He knew her father had died recently, but surely there was someone else.

“No one,” she said, the look on her face making him want to haul her back into his arms.

“No man in your life?”

“Not anymore.”

“No kids?”

She shook her head and turned to look at the painting on the wall to the right, and Joe thought of Abbie. Who was Abbie?

“Well, Doc, sounds like you need a friend.”

She opened her mouth to say something, then obviously thought better of it and closed it again. He watched her waffling back and forth on just what she was going to say, watched the silence make her more and more uncomfortable.

Finally she said, “I haven’t been in town that long.”

“It’s a friendly town,” Joe said, aching to touch her again even in the smallest of ways.

“I’m sure it is.” She turned her wrist over, so she could see the time on that dainty gold watch of hers. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sure I’m keeping you from…something. Where’s Luke?”

“In the waiting room. I thought I’d let him sweat it out a minute before he makes his apology. And I should warn you—my daughter’s here, too.”

She hesitated, looking scared again. “You have a daughter?”

He nodded. “Dani. She’s four. She’s so jealous of Luke’s glow-in-the-dark toothbrush she can hardly stand it. I promised her we’d find her one somewhere.”

“Oh, no problem. I buy them by the case.” She put her hand into the big pockets of her white coat and pulled out a handful of stuff.

He saw scarves in three different colors, coins, thick tongue depressors and a set of plastic teeth. Picking them up, he turned the crank and they started dancing along the desktop.

Joe laughed, as he had this morning, while Samantha fished in the other pocket until she came up with two toothbrushes.

“Pink or purple?” she asked.

“Pink, definitely. What else have you got in those pockets?”

“Tricks of the trade,” she said. “Anything to make the kids smile.”

And then Joe simply couldn’t resist her anymore. Stepping close, tucking her hair behind her ear, then brushing his knuckles against the side of her face, he said, “Who makes you smile, Doc?”

Her eyes got so big and so blue, and she seemed to stop breathing all together. “No one,” she said softly. “Not for a long time.”

“I think it’s time someone did.” He brushed the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip.

She exhaled shakily, her breath skimming across his thumb. Joe caught her face between both hands. Ready to take his time, to savor the moment, because he hadn’t wanted to kiss a woman so much in a long, long time, he started at her eyes, kissing them softly, finding them still wet from her tears. The skin of her cheek was soft, and the tip of her nose was cold. He kissed all of those spots as his hands tangled in her hair.

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