Love Under Two Doctors Page 4

  “I bet that pony is going to miss you,” Jillian said.

  “That’s what mom says.”

  “Benny Rose, you don’t go talking Ms. Gillespie’s ear off now, you hear?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Benny gave his mother a smile that Jillian bet would melt any mother’s heart.

  “Did you get a chance to take a look around the clinic?” Jake passed her the basket of bread.

  Jillian sighed when she realized the bread was nice and warm. Her one weakness, she justified the huge glob of butter she used because she was celebrating the first night of her new life. Tonight, the butter had no calories and would not go directly to her ass. “I did, yes. And I think I met two of the doctors, although I must confess I was surprised. I had the impression from Shirley that the Doctors Jessop were only two, and older gentlemen at that.”

  “Robert and David came back to Lusty a few weeks ago after spending several years at an inner-city hospital up north in Chicago.” Adam gave a piece of buttered bread to Benny. Then he looked over at his brother. “They’ll just be part time, won’t they, until the uncles retire?”

  “Yeah, they’ll spell off their dads, so they can become ‘semi-retired.’ But if I know the uncles, they’ll stay ‘semi-retired’ forever.” Jake turned to her. “So you met Robert and David?”

  “Yes, but they didn’t bother to tell me which one was which.” Jillian wasn’t going to think about those two, but she’d found that, despite her best intentions, thoughts of them intruded anyway.

  “They’re twins, but fraternal ones,” Jake said. “They’re pretty easy to tell apart. David got a bigger dose of the Sanchez genes, so his eyes and hair are a bit darker than Robert’s. He’s also a bit more happy-go-lucky than his brother. Likes to laugh and tease a lot.”

  And he’s a flirt, too, Jillian thought.

  “Robert has seemed a bit more intense than he used to be,” Adam said.

  “He’s always been intense,” Jake said.

  “You just think so because you’ve always been happy-go-lucky yourself,” Adam shot back. “Next to you everybody seems intense.”

  “Boy howdy, you two can’t be trusted to wear your company manners for more than five minutes,” Ginny had come out of the kitchen carrying a tray. Behind her another woman, brown hair with auburn highlights caught up in a top knot, held a second tray. Both men leapt up and relieved the women of their burdens. Adam took the one from the woman Jillian hadn’t met yet.

  “Damn it, Kelsey, Matt and Steven are going to have my head if they see you carrying a heavy tray around like that.”

  “Damn it, Adam, I’m pregnant, not sick.” But she gave him a big smile. Then she leaned forward, and offered her hand to Jillian. “I’m Kelsey Benedict. Welcome to Lusty, and to Lusty Appetites. We really are a modern town, even if our men do tend toward the old-fashioned, overprotective, Neanderthal type.”

  Jillian accepted the greeting, and told her the truth. “From where I’m sitting, old-fashioned and protective seems very nice indeed.” And certainly something she’d never had a chance to experience.

  Jillian pushed the unwelcome thought away, but too late. On its heels came the rest of that sentiment—a longing that she’d managed to keep buried most of her adult life.

  Old-fashioned and protective, even Neanderthal in her mind equaled cared for, and Jillian would give just about anything to know what that felt like.

  * * * *

  “You’re having a good night. The crowd’s lively.” Robert set his drink down and turned his attention to the Master of the Lyon’s Den. On this Saturday night, the place was packed, the two main lounges filled nearly to capacity.

  Their host had met them at the door, and invited them to join him for a drink. Christopher Lyon’s private lounge—on the mezzanine— was large enough for a small party, featured relaxing arm chairs and a one-way glass wall that looked down over both of the public lounges.

  “Saturdays, as you can imagine, are always premium evenings here.” The man’s eyes didn’t linger, but roamed, taking in the ebb and flow of the club’s patrons. “We’ve managed to do well, despite the downturn in the economy.”

  “Reckless Abandon came through the recession pretty well, too,” David said. Then he looked through the glass. “I’ll be honest. Your place appears to draw a more hard-core crowd than Jordan Fitzpatrick’s does.”

  “It does, yes. There’s a higher percentage of the membership here that lives the lifestyle twenty-four seven.” Lyons took another drink from his glass—a tumbler that contained sparkling water and lime. “Frankly, given the differences between our two cities, Jordan’s and mine, I’d expect the reverse to be true. Still, I can’t complain.” He met Robert’s gaze. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t screen potential members just as thoroughly as Jordan does at Reckless Abandon. After that incident a couple of years ago there, I ordered a deeper background check on my entire membership.” He paused and let his gaze roam his domain. Robert felt the pause, the weight of it. He could almost bet he knew what was coming.

  “You should know, I’ve also hired a psychologist, part time.”

  Robert felt the force of the man’s blue-eyed gaze. He nodded. “Wise decision. Hire a professional to revamp your questionnaire, perhaps even sit in on the initial interviews. If your psychologist is good, you’ll be able to, at the very least, prevent any borderline personalities from joining.”

  “Exactly. That was a good idea you had, and we shamelessly copied it.”

  Robert had expected Jordan to be completely open and honest with Lyons. He wasn’t used to letting near strangers get too close. Under the circumstances, that was something he’d have to get over, at least this once. “Nothing wrong with that. I know the fact that a sociopath managed to get through and into his club—that he then kidnapped a young woman who was a close friend of his—has haunted Jordan.” Robert looked out at the view, then met Christopher’s gaze. “As it would any good master. Fortunately she was found in time, and that bastard will never see daylight again.”

  “Yes, a genuine happy ending as I know that Richard, Alan, and Molly Grant have since already welcomed their first new addition to their family.” Lyons also took another look out at the action taking place below them. “We have a great deal in common, Jordan and I, not the least of which is that we take our responsibilities very seriously.”

  It was one facet of the D/s lifestyle that meshed so perfectly with the way Robert had been raised. A real man took care of his own. A good master took care not only of his own subs, but also any sub that came under his roof.

  He thought it a bit odd that Christopher Lyons didn’t have a sub attending to him at the moment, but he let it pass. Something about the man spoke to him on a deeper level than that reached by most new acquaintances. He had the feeling that he and Christopher could become good friends.

  At the moment, Christopher Lyons appeared to be a man completely invested in the operation of his club.

  Robert followed Lyon’s gaze. A busy Saturday night, lots of music, lots of people dancing, lots of people mingling. Some were dressed in costumes, some barely dressed at all. From this vantage point it proved a simple exercise, picking out the Doms from the subs. Aside from the collars, and occasional leashes, the way people stood, their body language, often told the story of who, and what they were.

  Robert wondered what pretty little Jillian Gillespie would think of this place. Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you, Robbie?

  He probably was, but it had always been his nature to make up his mind about what he wanted very quickly. He could see no reason why it should be any different when it came to choosing his life’s mate. If he took the time to think about his family’s unique history, he’d remind himself that falling in love immediately and for life really was a family trait.

  Jessops were like that.

  “Both Jordan and Jonathan Steele seemed to think you’d be interested in finding a sub to
share,” Lyons said. “I happen to know of a couple who are in need of a new master—and who wouldn’t be averse to being shared.”

  “We’ve already found one,” Robert said. Even if she doesn’t know that’s what she is. Now that he thought about it, she probably didn’t know she was a natural-born sub. “For the time being, however, we’d like to continue our training—we’re not interested in having sex with anyone else, that’s not why we’re here.” He inhaled deeply. They couldn’t have sex with anyone else, not when they’d found their mate. Robert allowed himself one more moment to think about pretty Jillian.

  A part of him very much wanted to be back in Lusty right now. Jillian might already be home in her apartment for the night. He wanted to go there, go right there, strip her naked, and put her between himself and his closest brother.

  With effort, he closed off those thoughts and desires, and focused on the conversation. “I found the practice, and the discipline, to be an excellent way to manage stress. I’d like to work on that, if you’ll permit me.”

  “I pretty much feel the same, although my stress levels don’t get as high as Robert’s.” David tilted his head to one side and met Lyon’s gaze. His brother could be serious when he needed to be.

  Lyons nodded. “We have some playrooms that require the supervision of a Dom. We also, from time to time, are obliged to either assist with, or administer discipline ourselves.” Lyons grinned. “If you’re offering your services on a volunteer basis, I’ll take them. After I process your applications for membership, of course.” Lyons took another drink from his glass. “I’ll also want to see how you are with a six foot before I permit you to wield one in my house. That, we can do tonight.”

  “Of course.” That suited Robert perfectly. He wouldn’t be comfortable using a six-foot single-tail whip on anyone without plenty of practice first—although he tended to be very accurate with it. He figured it was the surgical training that helped with that.

  “The paperwork will take at least a week. In the meantime, there’s no reason why I can’t offer you a complete tour of my own little den of iniquity, and a round or two with the target balloons.”

  The man had said that so matter-of-factly that Robert laughed, the response startled out of him. He looked over at David, who smiled back.

  “We’ll take you up on that generous offer, thank you. We’d also be grateful if you’d allow us to purchase some basic supplies.”

  Lyons smiled. “For the sub you’ve already found to share,” he surmised. “Yes, I’d say ensuring you had the necessities on hand would be prudent.”

  Robert felt as if he’d already had a workout. The stress he’d noticed building inside him over the last week or so eased within him. Another man might chalk that up to simply being at a club where all his prurient needs could be met.

  But Robert was a Jessop, and what he knew for certain was the emotion wending its way through him now had little to do with the Lyon’s Den, and everything to do with a blonde-haired, green-eyed pixie. They’d found their mate and she was back in Lusty, just waiting to be claimed and tamed.

  Chapter 3

  “Let me help you with those, sweetheart.”

  Startled, Michelle Parker nearly dropped the two large paper sacks she carried. Since one of the bags held a dozen eggs and a jar of expensive marmalade, that would have been downright tragic.

  Her heart thudding as recognition kicked in, she offered her would-be white knight a smile and tried to quell her nerves. She always felt so clumsy around Joe Grant. He’d come in to the restaurant and sit in her section at least once every couple of weeks. Considering he was living in Dallas, that in itself was remarkable.

  He’d always smile, and tease her a little. Chat with her a little. She knew she had a crush on him. How could she not? He was genuinely nice, and genuinely hot, too.

  Michelle mentally sighed. He’s just being kind to me. Genuinely hot men are not interested in relationships with women like her. They want beautiful, skinny women, not plus-sized ones.

  “Thanks, Joe. I appreciate that.” She handed him one grocery bag, and kept the second for herself. Then, “I didn’t know you were back in town. Did you come to visit Peter? He and Jordan and Tracy just got back a couple days ago from their honeymoon.”

  “I heard that. I got in late yesterday. I’m staying at that new bed-and-breakfast that just opened up by the park. And no, I didn’t come to visit Peter. I never actually come to visit Peter. I come to Lusty to visit you.”

  “M–Me?” Michelle nearly tripped as Joe’s words registered. Surely she couldn’t have heard him correctly? She couldn’t wrap her head around the idea that he’d come to Lusty all this time to see her. She always felt so awkward when it came to making small talk with the man. She never knew what she could possibly say to the urbane and cosmopolitan G-man that could hold his interest or attention for long.

  He juggled the bag she’d given him so that he held it in his left arm, and then he slipped his right arm around her waist.

  “Yes, you. Is that so hard for you to believe, sweetheart?”

  “Yes.” Oh God. He’d called her “sweetheart,” twice, now. The sensation of his arm around her waist heated her and shivered her at the same time. As usual, words failed her. Probably just as well. When she did manage to say something to the man, it usually just came out wrong and left her feeling really stupid.

  “Why? Is it because you don’t see me as a man who could be interested in you? Is it because you don’t like me?”

  “No!” Michelle turned so she could see his face, straight on. Joe Grant had been coming around Lusty—and her—ever since Peter Alvarez—now Peter Alvarez-Kendall—found out he’d had a target painted on his back a few months ago. Of course, the women and men of Lusty had caught not only the would-be assassin but also the man who’d put the price on Peter’s head, so that danger was past.

  Joe had worked with the family on that fateful day, and Michelle had just assumed that he and Peter—federal agents both—had become good friends.

  Now looking into his eyes, she had the sense that she was looking in a mirror, in a way. As if the doubts and insecurities that had plagued her for nearly all her adult life were not unknown to this man.

  How could that be? A man as buff and hot as Joe Grant should have all the confidence in the world! “No,” she said again. She didn’t know how she managed to hang on to her bag, she felt herself shaking that much. Never one to take a chance, Michelle tended to live her life in the background. She went to work and went to school part time, intent on getting her English degree. She wanted to be a writer. It was the second most important dream she’d had, forever.

  The first she’d given up on long ago. Believed, somehow, that she’d needed to sacrifice it. Now, she had to wonder.

  “No?” His look tender, his voice gentle, Joe Grant raised one eyebrow, telling her he needed more than a one-word answer from her this time.

  Michelle swallowed. She was about to take a huge chance, and if it backfired, well, she’d…she’d hit him with her bag of groceries. But she ached for that bit of doubt she could see in him, knew it profoundly well, and it was that doubt she addressed now.

  “No. I definitely see you as a man and I do like you. Very much.” She had the sense he sighed in relief. Before she lost her nerve, she said the rest of it. “I just never dared to hope you’d be a man who could be interested in me.”

  “Did you drive to the grocery today, or walk, sweetheart?”

  The term of endearment, used for a third time and therefore definitely not a figment of her imagination, made her tremble inside. She nearly couldn’t answer him. “I walked.”

  “Okay.”

  Okay? What did that mean? Oh, why couldn’t she be one of those women who could read a man, who could wear just the right thing and say just the right thing? Why couldn’t she be, please God, petite and gorgeous?

  He didn’t say anything as he walked beside her
toward her home. Somehow, she had the sense that he already knew where she lived. She only felt a little embarrassed to admit that she still lived with her parents—even if it was in her own private apartment in the back of the house.

  She was thirty-five years old and certainly could afford to live elsewhere, but she’d never seen the sense in it. She liked being close to her mom and dad. Besides, they were getting older. In not too many years they would need her, and she intended to be there for them just as they had always been there for her.

  “Are you working tonight?”

  “No. I get every third Sunday off.”

  “Good. That’s good.” He sighed and Michelle felt herself begin to relax a little.

  Michelle looked at him out of the corner of her eye. She recognized the expression on his face, because she’d seen it often enough in the mirror.

  Why, he was as nervous as she was! Somehow, knowing that simply rocked her world. After a few moments, he said, “I thought, if you didn’t have any plans for tonight, we could go out to dinner. Not here, of course. I was thinking we could go into Waco, if you’d like?”

  “I’d like that.” She could barely believe the man was asking her out. They turned down Maple Street, and walked two blocks. All too soon they arrived at Michelle’s home.

  “I have an apartment in back,” she said.

  “I know.”

  Joe relieved her of the bag she’d carried so she could get out her key and unlock the door.

  Now what? He’d asked her out, but was it for a date? Or would it be a case of just two friends having dinner out? Michelle blinked. He had carried her groceries for her. Maybe she should ask him in for a cup of coffee? “Would you like to come in?”

  “I’d better not. Why don’t you set these down inside and then come back out here for a minute?”

  Michelle blinked. The request sounded odd. He did just ask me out to dinner, didn’t he? Or maybe she’d imagined the whole thing. Maybe the lack of a social life was starting to wear on her, and her mind was manufacturing all manner of strange things.