I adjusted my polka-dotted tie as I stood outside of my apartment door and fidgeted with the cufflinks of my jacket for the millionth time. Should I knock? Just go on in? I had an extra set of keys. Fuck, I was nervous. I didn’t like it one damn bit. I was never fucking nervous. I was a goddamn rock star in and outside of the operating room. To think I was letting this tiny woman throw me off my game was fucking comical. If you were the laughing type, that is.
I’d spent the night tossing and turning on one of the stretchers in an extra room at the hospital, and it wasn’t just because I was uncomfortable as hell. Kelly was back. Only she was different and so was I, and for fuck’s sake, I was supposed to save her baby’s life. She was just another patient’s mother, or at least that’s what I told myself. But I knew better; she was the one who got away. The one I’d let get away. It had been a mistake.
I was being ridiculous. I was just here to drop off her intake information and tell her the arrangements I’d made for her. This was my home. I had absolutely no reason to be nervous.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Placing my keys in the basket on the foyer table, I walked toward the bedroom expecting to find her asleep in my bed, but before I even made it to the back hallway, I noticed a big lump under two sets of covers on my couch.
It couldn’t be. Why in the hell would she choose to sleep on the couch instead of my comfortable bed? Stepping closer to the couch, I investigated the piles of covers more closely and sure enough one of her hands was hanging out of the bottom and off the couch.
The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. “What in the ever-loving hell are you doing sleeping out here?”
A blur of dark hair and milky white skin shot up on the couch and the covers fell back, revealing a rumpled and ridiculously cute but angry Kelly. Her eyes glared at me from behind thick locks of dark hair.
“Jesus fucking Christ, you scared the shit out of me.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I hope not, you’re still sitting on my couch,” I deadpanned.
“Ha-ha. Hilarious. Are you going on the road with that act?” she asked grumpily, lying back and pulling the covers over her head.
I looked around the room for the first time noticing the absolute mess that was my living space. Two plates with leftover food and a couple of empty glasses littered the table and it looked like Kelly’s bag of clothing had exploded all over the place.
I pulled the covers from over her head and stared down at her. “Why didn’t you sleep in the bed? You had the whole damn apartment and yet you chose to sleep on a leather sofa? And what the hell happened in here?”
Even at thirty-three years old women fucking baffled me.
I sounded like an asshole, but I couldn’t help it. It seemed like I had one speed with this woman, and it was firmly set to bastard.
She let out a long breath and sat up. “I couldn’t.” Biting her lip, she averted her gaze. “It didn’t feel right. I didn’t feel comfortable.”
I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something seemed off. Was she lying? Why? My bed was comfortable. I’d paid thousands and thousands of dollars to make sure of that. I needed my rest. It was more than important to my job. When a baby’s life hung in the balance, you couldn’t be tired.
I looked at the leather couch with disgust. “This couch couldn’t have been comfortable.”
She yawned. “Oh, it was. Trust me. I haven’t had such a peaceful night of sleep in months.” She smiled and I softened. “Thanks for letting me stay.”
She pulled the covers back and placed her feet to the floor, revealing pink-tipped feet and legs that seemed ridiculously long for such a short woman. I wanted to tell her to put those damn sticks of dynamites away. They were inappropriate and sexy as hell. I cleared my throat and made sure to keep my eyes off those legs and my temper in check.
“Did you get dinner?” I tried to soften my voice. See, I was making an effort.
“Oh, yes, I did. Thank you for that, too. You’ve been so incredibly awesome about everything. I really appreciate it, but I’m going to pack my stuff up and get out of your hair. My guess is, you’re ready to have your apartment back.”
Who was this gushing, sweet woman? Did she think she had to butter me up because I was helping her? I already told her I would. I wouldn’t go back on my word if she didn’t kiss my ass. I pulled at the tie around my neck. It felt tight. She was being too nice. The Kelly Potter I remembered from years ago asked a million questions and not a one of them was appropriate or timely. She was snarky and unashamed. She was magnificent.
“Well, actually, I’m not staying,” I clipped out. “I just stopped by on the way to the office. I have to work today, but I wanted to drop off all your intake and release forms. I’ll need all the information from the doctors who diagnosed your baby’s heart problem. If you fill everything out, I’ll have Lucille pick them up tomorrow and then we can get you in for an appointment and workup.”
She smiled and pushed the hair off her face. “Lucille? Is she the lady from your office?”
I nodded. “Yep, one and the same.”
“Okay, I’ll get them filled out, but I can just bring them by tomorrow. I have a few errands to run, anyhow. You don’t need to inconvenience Lucille.”
I arched an eyebrow. “But I love to inconvenience her.” It was true. I lived for it most days.
She giggled. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”
I headed toward the kitchen. “Come on. I’ll whip us up something for breakfast.”
She followed me, shaking her head. “No, please, you don’t have to do that.”
The kitchen was crowded with both of us in there and it reminded me of the last time I’d made us breakfast. It may have been ten years ago, but it could have been two nights ago the way I recalled it. It was so clear in my mind. Her naked form perched on a different set of counters but still mine nonetheless. She’d been young and carefree and wild. So sexy.
I pulled out a carton of eggs and she stood there awkwardly, her hands fisted in the bottom of the sweatshirt she was wearing. I could see something was on her mind, and I wasn’t one to mince words or try to dance around questions.
Giving her an imploring look, I asked, “What is it?”
She dragged her plump, pink bottom lip into her mouth and even though I didn’t want to I noticed. I noticed it a hell of a lot, but I told myself I’d noticed plenty of beautiful women doing provocative things before. It had never affected my job. And it wouldn’t now. I wouldn’t look at her lips or legs. I’d be safe then.
“I don’t want you to think I came here expecting you to take care of me. I just need you to do the surgeries. The doctors said she would need three sometime during the first five years of her life.” She paused, and I took a break from whisking the eggs to look at her face. Her bottom lip trembled, but tears didn’t shine in her eyes, and I thought of how brave she was being for her daughter. I was impressed and I wasn’t easily impressed. I had to give it to her. She was giving it a fighting try, but she still needed me.
“What I’m saying is, I’m here so you can save her life. I’m not here for you to save mine. I don’t need saving. I need an amazing doctor. For her. That’s it.”
Inwardly I rolled my eyes and ignored the drivel she was spouting. She was a mess. It was clear she needed my help.
I poured the eggs in the pan and stirred. I wasn’t even going to acknowledge how ridiculous she was being. “So, what are your plans for today?”
The woman was stubborn. She didn’t know it, but I was more stubborn, and I’d had way more practice at it.
“I don’t know. I need to find a long-term place to stay and a job.”
Let’s just jump right into this, shall we? “Speaking of working.” I looked at her while I finished cooking the eggs. “We need to talk about that.”
She pursed her lips and a fire lit in her eyes that made me strangely giddy. Anything was better than the pretend nice she’d been spoon feeding my ass all morning.
“No, we don’t.”
Oh, yes, I really liked this girl. “We do.”
I wasn’t an easing into the things type of guy. I was a man with facts, and the facts were she needed my help and I was going to give it. And maybe, just maybe, I enjoyed getting her riled up. Maybe I wanted to piss her off a little. Light a little bit of fire under her ass.
“No working. No heavy exercise.” I spooned the eggs onto plates and turned toward her, ready for the fight.
Her face fell in shock just as her eyes lit up, and they were sparkling for a fight.
And stupid, stupid me, I couldn’t help it. It was like second nature. My hand just flew out and grabbed her own, clutching tightly. Her hand hung limply in mine and it pissed me off. For some reason, I wanted her to squeeze mine back, accept my help.
I met her eyes head-on. I held her hand tighter. She needed to hear me out. “You’re going to have to stop being stubborn about this. I need you to take care of yourself right now for your baby’s sake. Do you understand what I’m saying? We can’t afford to put any undue stress on your baby girl’s heart right now, and if that means you have to take a little help from me, then you need to just accept it. There’s no other way.” There, I’d put it out there as plainly as I could.
She pulled her hand from mine and ran both of her palms over her face before leaning against the counter. “Fuck.”
And just like that her fire was doused. I didn’t like it one damn bit.
I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to upset her. I just wanted her to understand what was at stake—her baby’s life.
“I get it’s not ideal accepting help from a virtual stranger, but I want to help you.” I grabbed her hand again. “Let me.”
I gave the meaty part of her palm one more hard squeeze and let go, because what I was about to say was going to thoroughly piss her off, but she cut me off.
“I think I need to call my mom,” she whispered.
I nodded, feeling like one of those ridiculous little figurines people kept in the front windows of their cars with the wobbly heads. Just bobbing my head whether someone was just cruising or having a life-threatening crisis. Christ, but I didn’t know what else to do but nod. Why was she here alone? It infuriated me. Where was the man who got her pregnant? Had she not already called her mom about all of this? I had a million questions, but a professional courtesy to her privacy kept me from grilling the hell out of her.
I wanted to save the rest of our conversation for another day. She seemed distraught and visibly upset, but it couldn’t wait. There just wasn’t time. The sooner we got her settled, the sooner she’d have less stress, the healthier her baby would be.
I pretended not to notice the beginnings of an epic meltdown, and I could see one coming a mile away. I’d delivered enough bad news to patients over the years to see the signs, and I could tell a tsunami of tears and hysterics were headed my way.
The way she kept wringing her hands. The frown line in between her eyebrows. The slight quiver of her bottom lip. They were all dead giveaways.
But I couldn’t baby her. I’d already grabbed her hand in a moment of weakness. I couldn’t let it go further than that. I didn’t hold patients’ hands or hug them. I was a straight shooter. I’d tell them like it was and then save their child’s life.
Walking around the bar and toward the dining table, I said, “Sit. Let’s talk.”
She followed slowly behind me, the frown line on her forehead deepening, her lips turned down in what could only be described as a scowl.
She sat down in a chair heavily, and I placed her food in front of her.
I sat down across from her and sipped my coffee, studying her face. “No work. No exercise. The end.”
She didn’t say anything at all. Only stared at her food and bit her lip every now and then. I wasn’t even sure if she heard me.
“Surely, the other doctors told you to take it easy?” I couldn’t believe how upset she was. It was as if she was hearing this news for the first time.
She nodded as she stared into space before answering. “Yeah, they told me to take it easy. No heavy activity, but I at least thought I’d be able to work.”
“Well, that’s out. Now eat.” I inclined my head toward her plate of food she’d barely touched and started in on my own.
Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
I wanted to smile. This was the Kelly I remembered. The one who took no shit. I’d liked her so much. It could have been more, but fate had other plans.
“Eat your food.”
“I heard you the first time, Doc. I’m not deaf. I’m also not dumb. So, I don’t need anyone to remind me to eat,” she snapped at me.
Doc. And that hit me right in the chest. Just a tiny pinch. But that was all it took. Doc. The memory settled over me so heavily. How she’d called me that so affectionately with a bit of pride and teasing laced throughout her voice. I’d missed it, damn it. I’d missed her. After only one night. It made me irrationally angry. It was my fault, but still, the circumstances of how that night ended almost seemed completely out of my control.
I looked at my plate, feeling too many things, mostly overwhelmed. “Eat your food, Ms. Potter, and then I’ll escort you to your new home for the next few months,” I said to my plate of eggs.
I felt her eyes snap to me even though I was avoiding looking at her. “What?”
“I told you I’d find suitable accommodations for you and I did.”
“I didn’t ask for you to find me a place to stay.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then why the hell did you?”
I grabbed my coffee and plate and headed for the kitchen. I was putting my plate in the dishwasher when I felt her behind me.
“Well?” she asked the back of my head.
I stood on a sigh and looked at the ceiling of my apartment, praying for patience to deal with the most beautifully infuriating woman I’d ever had the pleasure to meet twice.
My prayers didn’t work at all. “Because I fucking felt like it.” I pushed past her and started grabbing the dirty dishes off the coffee table in the living room and loading those in the dishwasher, too.
It was a comfort knowing some things didn’t change. The woman could still make a huge mess in two seconds flat.
“You fucking felt like it?” she yelled. “You felt like it?” she repeated, sounding crazed as she followed me around the apartment, and I couldn’t help but smile. I liked her like this. Like the Kelly I remembered. Full of life and spunk and heat.
I turned to her, gesturing to her explosion of clothes and toiletries all over my living room floor. “Yes, I felt like it. Now pack your shit. I have to get to work.”
Her mouth fell open. “You did not. You did not just tell me to pack my shit.”
“Are you going to repeat everything I say today?” I picked up a white, lacy bra hanging off the side of the couch.
She snatched it from my hands and stuffed it into her bag along with other clothes off the floor. “You’re impossible. I should have known. Miranda warned me.”
I smirked. Oh, Miranda and I had grown up together, and I enjoyed torturing her. “Of course she did. Chop-chop. You need to get dressed, and we need to get going.”
She paused and glared at me below the waist. “Oh, I’ll chop-chop, all right.”
I decided right then and there this was exactly how this was going to play out. She could hate me. She could literally loathe the sight of me, but she wasn’t going to cry or have nervous breakdowns. She wasn’t going to shout or scream. She was going to fight and if that meant she was fighting me, then so be it. I’d be her outlet. If I had to call her every day and rile her the hell up until her daughter was whole, I would.
Yes, I’d keep her fire lit and her storm raging. We’d get through the rain together.