Rescuing Jenna - Anna Blakely Page 0,6

heard him say, “What? Don’t give me that look. Aren’t you two always telling me how women can do more than what we narrow-minded men want to admit? Well, this is me…admitting it.”

That was way too easy.

“What’s your angle?” she asked him.

“There’s no angle, Jenna. I saw how you handled yourself when all that shit went down with Ellena. You’re a strong woman…ahem, person. And you’re an adult. You wanna to go to Gulfside Harbor, by all means, go.”

Sitting on her bed with a narrowed gaze, Jenna suddenly wished she could see the man’s face rather than simply hearing his voice. Ever since she’d known him, Gabe had always played the big-brother protective role with her.

Now, he was just giving up?

“So, the lecture’s over? Just like that?”

“I can’t win with you two, can I?” Gabe’s question was clearly rhetorical. “I try to keep you safe, and I’m being overprotective. When I admit you’re smart and independent, I’m acting suspicious. You know what? I take back what I said. I think I’ll just hide away in the nursery, painting it over and over again until my daughter is born.”

Both women laughed in unison, and Jenna tried not to listen as Ellena quietly comforted her husband with a few sweet words and soft kisses. When Gabe spoke again, his tone was loving and genuine.

“Good luck with your new job, Jen. I mean that. Be careful and, seriously…you need anything, don’t hesitate to call us.”

“Thanks, Gabe.” Jenna smiled. “I’m sure I won’t, but if I run into trouble while I’m there, you’ll be the first person I call.”

“Good girl.”

The corners of her mouth rose higher. For all the gruff she gave him, Gabe was the older brother she’d never had. Despite his tendency to overprotect—or maybe even because of it—Jenna loved him dearly.

“I’d better go, too. Make sure he doesn’t turn our baby’s nursery into something resembling a rock star’s sex room.”

Jenna barked out a laugh. “Yes. You should definitely do that.”

The laughter dissipated into silence before Ellena asked, “You sure this is what you want to do?”

“I’m sure,” Jenna answered confidently. “Now, go. It sounds like your husband is in desperate need of your interior decorating skills, and I need to finish packing.”

“Okay. Call me when you land?”

“I will. I promise.” After saying their goodbyes, Jenna ended the call and exhaled slowly.

With the phone held loosely in her lap, she looked around her bedroom. For what, she wasn’t sure. A sign, maybe? Something to tell her she’d made the right decision.

She glanced at the armless accent chair in the corner of the room, her heart skipping half a beat from the memory that would forever be attached to it.

In her mind’s eye, she saw Adrian standing in front of it. He was stripping off her clothes before ridding his incredible body of his own.

As clear as if it were happening in real time, Jenna watched as Adrian sat down in that chair, guiding her until she was straddling his lap. What happened after was nothing short of spectacular.

Jenna blinked the memory away.

Lordy, I’m a mess.

So there it was. The sign she’d been looking for. Leaving the memories this place held, even temporarily, was absolutely the right decision.

With renewed conviction, Jenna blocked out any further thoughts of Adrian Walker and stood. For the next hour, she moved about the apartment, packing and double-checking to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything important.

By the time she went to bed—with her bags by the front door and her ticket tucked safely inside her purse—she still believed taking this job was the right choice.

The next day, as the landing gear touched the runway at Gulfside Harbor International Airport, any remaining slivers of trepidation had all but vanished.

After checking into the hotel where she’d be staying over the next three months, Jenna found herself standing around a large conference room making small talk with some of the other nurses who’d signed up for the same gig.

“My husband was all for it,” Shawna, one of the nurses, commented. Crossing her arms at her chest, the tall woman’s blonde ponytail swished from side to side as she spoke to the small group. “With three kids under four, we couldn’t pass up the extra money.”

“Same.” The woman next to Shawna—Amy, maybe?—nodded. “Except our kids are all teenagers and into every sport imaginable. That shit’s expensive, y’all.”

“Right?” Marie, a nurse from Kansas City, scoffed. “My two are in middle school. It costs an arm and a leg to keep them involved in