Christmas in His Bed: Talking in Your Sleep... / Unwrapped / Kiss & Tell. Carrie AlexanderЧитать онлайн книгу.
sure that he follows his own goals. He’s worked hard to be where he is, and maybe he should go after his MBA or start his own business or do something … I can’t quite figure out if this is really what he wants, or if he’s only being … grateful.”
“Even if he is, is there something wrong with that? I think it’s sweet that he wants to be part of your life, and to help out. Ted hardly seems like the type not to go after what he wants—after all, he got you,” Joy teased.
“There’s a good point.” Pam smiled, shaking her head. “I don’t know—meeting here muddied the waters, I guess. We knew who we were when he was here, but now, well, some of the rules have changed. We’re into a new stage of our relationship. I don’t know how to separate it all out.”
“You love him.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Then you’ll work it out.”
“You’re right, we will. Thanks. So how about you?”
“What about me?”
“Any news about the hottie next door?”
“Oh. I can’t believe I forgot this—or I suppose I should thank you for helping me forget it, at least for a little while,” Joy groused.
Pam listened to Joy’s story about the tape, so engrossed that she forgot her own troubles.
“Oh, honey—that’s terrible. Sounds like he made up for it, though.”
“Yeah, he did, but I’m so foggy from not getting any sleep I can’t seem to tell left from right anymore.”
“Well,” Pam said slyly, “I think we discussed that the solution to your sleep problem might be right next door.”
“He said the same thing,” Joy said, sighing.
“Okay, I have to go, so make this fast—what happened? Don’t edit,” she warned.
Pam was intrigued. She’d wished for Joy to meet someone wonderful for so long, and now it sounded as if she’d met someone truly different from the boring corporate types she usually dated. Maybe it was true that people in love wanted all their friends in relationships, too, but Pam truly wanted to see Joy happy. She worked hard and was a devoted friend. Over the years though, Pam had come to see that Joy held something back in her life. There was something deep inside she kept locked up, and Pam had always hoped the right man might come along with a key.
“After dinner, things got a little … heated. He kissed me, he said he wanted more, maybe.”
“So what’s the problem? He’s cute, and you’re available—go for it.”
“Go for it? Of course I can’t go for it—he’s just some guy who’s in town for a few weeks looking for some action.”
Pam tilted her head to the side. “Yes? Exactly what do you see wrong with that scenario? A fling is ideal—you have some fun, don’t take it all so seriously. You don’t have to worry if this guy meets anyone’s standards but your own—he’s temporary. It’s not like you’d be bringing him home to meet your parents.”
Joy frowned, perplexed. “I guess I figure when I get involved with someone, it’s for the long term, and I do tend to measure men by what my dad would think of them. I think that’s natural. He raised me.”
“You measure everything that way, Joy, and while your father is a good guy, maybe you need to start measuring things with your own stick. Including yourself. What do you want? What makes you happy?”
Joy frowned. “I—I’m not sure. I thought I was happy. I guess I haven’t thought about it much.”
“Well, think about it. Some rules are meant to be broken. Believe me, I know.” Pam smiled.
“Speaking of which, when’s Ted getting here?” Joy asked, not so subtly changing the subject.
“He’s not—no one here knows about us yet, and I don’t think they should until he’s no longer living here, so we’re meeting at the party.”
“It must be hard, keeping it secret.”
“It has been, especially from you—but I care about your opinion, and I was so afraid you would disapprove.”
“Why would I? I love you and Ted.”
“I know. I wish I’d told you sooner, but we thought it was better this way.”
“That’s fine. It probably added that whole forbidden-lust factor, huh?” Joy teased, laughing as Pam’s cheeks stained red again.
“You’re bad. Anyway, thanks for standing watch tonight.”
“No problem.”
As they walked out to the main room, Pam took a few bows and curtsies as she received compliments on her dress. Both women were surprised when Rashid, the night-shift staff, came in the front door.
“Rashid! I thought you weren’t able to be here tonight?” Pam asked.
“I had my schedule wrong—I’m due at the warehouse tomorrow night, so I’m good for tonight. Sorry if it messed you up,” Rashid said.
“I don’t know how you do it all, Ras,” Pam commented and Joy echoed the sentiment. Rashid ran the teen shelter across town and also worked a third shift in a home-improvement supply warehouse, on top of finishing his grad degree in social work. He’d spent his childhood on the streets, and Pam respected how he’d changed his life through sheer determination to do so. Growing up in the privileged environment that she had, where everything came so easily, she found it inspiring to know the people she did.
“If you still want the night off, Rashid, I’ll stay. I was prepared to, anyway,” Joy offered.
Rashid shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m good. I want to talk with some of the guys tonight.”
Pam looked at Joy, grinning. “I guess that means you get to go home early. Maybe check in on your neighbor, see what he’s cooking tonight.”
Joy glared, and Pam laughed, her friend’s excuse to avoid her neighbor flying right out the window.
7
RAFE HUNG UP THE PHONE, deflated and lonely. First he’d called his parents, who were missing him, and his mother had done a primo job trying to get him back home for Christmas. It was hard for them to understand why he wanted to be so far away, that he needed to be far away from the job. If he was back in the city, all he’d be able to think about was work, and that wouldn’t help him.
Of course, then he’d returned a call from Steve, the guy he’d been riding the ambulance with for the last three years. Steve’s wife had just given birth to their second child, and Steve had called to share the good news. Rafe was happy for his bud, but the conversation inevitably had turned to work.
Rafe missed it the way he would miss one of his limbs. He’d started college thinking he wanted to be a doctor. In his junior year he’d volunteered as an EMT and was hooked. He’d worked his way up to being a registered paramedic, and he loved it. The rush, the speed, the immediacy of helping people when they most needed it—it all made his blood run and his heart beat.
Until he’d started having nightmares and losing sleep. Gradually, he’d found he was getting frazzled, not handling the stress as well, not processing the emotions that came with the job. Classic burnout, his colleagues had told him—it got everyone eventually, and he’d lasted longer than many.
He’d thought he could handle it, thought it would pass on its own, but when he’d realized his pride could have cost Steve’s kids a father the night he’d nearly crashed the ambulance, Rafe knew he couldn’t keep going. He couldn’t do the job he loved, and he would never be able to do it again if he couldn’t solve this problem.
The