sedentary activity? Bowling would have been a better choice. The physical activity would have kept her awareness of him from racing like a heart out of control.
She clutched a tub of buttered popcorn. He held a box of plain. She sat on the far side of her seat and he pressed against the right arm of his. As she watched scenes from the coming attractions, tension gathered like a developing storm.
The feature, a comedy, began. While trying to find a comfortable position, she shifted in her seat. He moved in an equally restless dance. Because she didn’t want to put her arm on the armrest they shared, she dug into the popcorn. His hand moved to his mouth with the same regularity as hers.
The slapsticks of the hero bordered on absurdity. She laughed. His deeper voice echoed hers. Soon their blended laughter vanquished her stiff self-consciousness. His elbow rested on the shared armrest. She wiped butter from her hands.
Dumb, she thought as her fingers twined with his. Even though she sensed the danger of the action, she didn’t move away. Friends? As a soothing warmth enclosed her, her breath halted. What was she going to do? A friend didn’t hold hands and wish for more. How long could this union of opposites last?
When the feature ended and the lights came on, she stared at the blank screen. His hand moved away and he rose. She followed him up the aisle and outside. A few fat drops of rain fell on the sidewalk.
“I’ll get the car,” he said.
“Let’s race. If this means cooler weather, I’ll gladly get soaked.”
He reached the dark blue sedan and opened the passenger’s door. “I guess you’re too wet to stop at Frank’s for dessert.” He slid behind the wheel.
She laughed. “I’m never too anything to miss dessert.”
* * *
An hour later, Jenessa stood with her back against the apartment door. Eric rested one hand on the wall and stared down at her. She focused her gaze on his chin. He stood close, but not near enough to invade her space, though the pine scent of his aftershave did.
She looked up. His gaze held temptation. A wish to touch his lips with her fingertips grew, but she knew any movement on her part would destroy the sense of ease she felt.
“What are you doing over Labor Day weekend?” he asked.
“Heading to my family’s cottage on Shadow Lake. We go up every year with a group of friends. It’s a tradition. Why?”
“I thought… Never mind.”
She could ask him to come along. Friends were always welcome, but were they really friends? She hesitated.
He lightly tapped her chin with his knuckles. “Night.”
Before making a move she might regret, Jenessa opened the door. “See you.”
Inside the apartment, she leaned against the door and fought a blaze of desire. Flame-like fantasies danced in her thoughts. She shook her head. Physical attraction wasn’t enough. She’d fallen into that trap before.
She walked to her room. Why him? Why now?
* * *
Why her? Why now? Eric waited for the elevator and curbed a wish to knock on her apartment door. He’d come to Eastlake as a favor to Sam. Becoming involved with one of the nurses who might be working to undermine his career was a foolish step.
He pressed for the elevator again. He should have told her about Claremont Hospital. That would have ended the rapport growing between them. Though he would have still felt attracted, she would have walked away. He didn’t want that to happen.
Chapter 3
Jenessa leaned against the counter in the break room and licked the last bite of yogurt from the spoon. She eyed the chairs at the small table against the far wall and groaned. There wasn’t time to eat a sandwich or collapse for fifteen minutes. As usual, the unit was under-staffed. She rotated her shoulders to relieve the tension caused by working four thirteen-hour shifts in five days.
Nothing had changed. Though she’d sent memos to the Board requesting negotiations begin, there’d been no