Page 5 of Extended Bridge (Passionate Beats #2)

His surprise seems a bit disingenuous. Bennett’s less-than-positive appraisal of him may have colored my thoughts, though. “Hey. I just told Courtney that I’m going to be going away for a few months so she’ll be in charge. Keep on doing what you’re doing and you’ll be great.”

He looks as if he ate a sour pickle. “Where are you going? ”

It’s none of his business. However, the media won’t keep my whereabouts secret for too long, so I decide to get ahead of them.

“Bennett’s doctor prescribed three more months of physical therapy while he’s on tour.

Since he’s been my patient from the beginning, it makes sense for me to continue with him. ”

The folder slaps the top of Austin’s thigh. “If you’re going to be away, who’s going to take the lead on your third clinic?”

I know he’s angling to be the manager, but I’m not about to spill the beans. I play coy. “I don’t think this is a decision that needs to be made right this second.”

He juts his chin upward. “I’d like to throw my name into the ring. I’m a good manager, can meet deadlines, and my clients love me.”

Except Bennett. “Those are excellent attributes,” I tell him, needing to stroke his ego. “Remember I told you I think you may need some more practical experience before moving up into management, so keep working on your connections within the community.”

“I will.” He rubs his eyebrow. “Bennett, huh?”

“She’s going to be working with her patient,” Court jumps to defend me. I shoot a grateful glance at her.

“Yeah, right,” Austin grumbles. My hands land on my hips. He turns to face Court, holding up the folder. “I actually came in here to ask you about this patient.”

“I’ll take this as my cue to leave, as I have several loose ends to tie up.” I nod at Austin, then address Court. “I’ll be in touch.”

Ignoring our audience, she gives me a big bear hug. In my ear, she whispers, “You better check in. Only to let me know how things are going with your patient. ”

Because of Austin, I simply offer them a wave and leave the office. I hide my smirk until I’m well out of their line of sight.

My next stop is at home. A few intrepid reporters are camped out on the sidewalk, whom I ignore.

Inside my house, I pull out a couple of suitcases and begin to fill them with my favorite pieces of clothing.

Which need to last me three months. I stop.

I’m going to be away for ninety days? How is this my life?

Unfathomable before I met Bennett Hardy.

Even with Darren, I was away only a night or two at a time.

I need to get myself organized. Not only in the clothes department.

I sit at my desk and write out lists of what I need to do before joining Bennett on tour.

Stop my automatic food deliveries tops the list. Double-check that all my bills are on autopay.

Cancel streaming services that I won’t be here to watch.

When I’m done, I stare at the final three—tell Angie, Ma, and Bennett.

A big sigh overtakes my body. No time like the present.

The first item is easily accomplished. Angie’s excitement for me buoys me to make the next call. Ma picks up on the second ring. Stomach churning, I tell her of my decision.

“I’m glad to hear this, Sweet Pea. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I will. You know me.”

“Better than you know yourself, I fear. Enjoy this hiatus and see the world. Just don’t get caught up in Bennett’s drama.” She pauses. “For lack of a better word.”

“Ma. Nothing can happen, because he’s officially my patient. You know this is the best time for me to get away and regroup. I’ll be ready to tackle offices three and four when I return.”

“I know you will, Sweet Pea. I love you.”

With those three words, I know she’s given me her blessing. “Love you more.”

A timer beeps in the background. “I have to run. I can’t wait to hear how things are going!”

“I’ll call you—” my words are cut off when she disconnects the line. I stare at my cell for a moment. You’re being weird, Ma.

After a minute, I return to my bedroom and complete packing. Against my body, I hold up a new dress Court gave me, saying I’ll need the sexy outfit to fit in with a bunch of rock stars. With a sigh, I add it to my suitcase filled with leggings and tunic tops. Can’t hurt.

Shoes are easy, since I don’t own anything remotely akin to what groupies wear. No six-inch heels, no booties. I toss a couple of different pairs of Sketchers into the bag. The pumps I wore to the movie premiere dare me to take them along and I toss them in as well. They do match Court’s dress.

When my luggage is packed and everything’s crossed off my list except for the last item, I take a seat in my family room. Remembering what Bennett and I did in here, warmth suffuses my cheeks. I shake my head. Circumstances are different now. “Never again.”

Who am I trying to convince?

I pick up my phone. He hasn’t sent me any texts since he jetted back to the City yesterday.

Does he still want me to be his therapist?

I shrug this thought off as nonsense. He couldn’t kiss me and do the other stuff we did and not want me with him.

Right? Oh God, what if he does that on the regular?

He always was picking up women when I was with Darren.

Maybe this is for the best. I can do a job, get paid very well for it—enough for my fourth clinic—and return here without worry. Bennett could’ve already forgotten me. With this “delightful” thought, I dial his number.

“Jenna!” I can barely hear him above all the background noise.

“Hi. Are you still looking for a physical therapist?”

“I never started.”

His simple statement sends me reeling. He hasn’t discarded me. Get it under control . “That sure of me, were you?”

“I was hoping. Did you see the press from our gig last night?”

Might as well be honest. “I read a couple of headlines. Seems like it went well.”

“It was amazing being back onstage. You’ll be happy to know I took things very slowly. No running or even dancing.” He chuckles. “I may have moved my hips a little bit.”

I glance at the floor. “Can’t take you completely out of your element.”

“No way. But enough about me. When are you coming on tour?”

This is it. The moment of truth. Bees fly around my stomach. “Where are you now?” As if I didn’t already know.

“We’re still in New York City. We have two more gigs at Madison Square Garden, then we go to Philly.”

I could stay away for a few more nights and meet him in Philadelphia. Grant myself a reprieve. Before I can chicken out, there’s one last thing I need to know. “How’s the pain level?”

“Right now, I’d give it about a six.” Which means at least a seven . “I have the leg up with ice on it.”

I sit up. “What were you doing a half hour ago?”

“Well, I might have tried out some lunges.” My eyes slam shut. “To see how they’d feel, if I performed them onstage.” He huffs. “Not my brightest idea.”

I open my eyelids, giving a final glance around my house. “No, it wasn’t. Bennett, if you keep doing things like this, you’re only going to reinjure yourself and delay healing.”

He protests, “I was feeling better.”

Because you didn’t have PT for a day and a half . I slump against the chair. “Can you please send a helicopter for me?”

“You’re coming? Today?”

“Someone has to keep you safe from yourself.”

“I know what else you could do to make me feel better.”

I can practically see his eyebrows waggling. At least this is the opening I need. “I need to make this crystal clear. If I agree to join you, this will be our reset. There will be no more extracurricular activities between us. You can’t kiss or hug me—or anything. Do you understand me?”

“Can I hug you hello?”

Because I want to savor one last time in his arms, I relent. “Once.” In my mind’s eye, he’s wrapping me against his hard body, pulling me in so tight I can feel his heart beating against my cheek. My shoulders square. “Then never again.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” He pulls away from the phone.

At a distance, I hear him requesting my air transportation.

Then curse. “Okay, the helicopter schedule doesn’t work, so a car will be to your house in an hour instead.

You’ll be with me in around three hours.

All I’m going to say is ‘strapped, locked, and loaded, are you ready to roll with Untamed Coaster?’” The phone disconnects to the sound of a whoop.

The exact words the band says before taking the stage tug at my heart. I can do this. I’ll remain strong, abiding by the professional ethical requirements. Even if the simple sound of his voice makes me want to strip off my clothes. And let him deep into my soul.

Standing, I say, “Providing him the best physical therapy will give At Your Service PT unprecedented advertising. Four locations won’t be able to handle all the patients.” It doesn’t matter our misguided history, I’m all about business from now on.

If only my heart would get the message.