“SO WHAT’S GOING ON?” Susan rested her hips against the desk as Ethan studied the scan in front of him.
“He’s had a bleed—” Ethan pointed at it with his pen but she shook her head.
“I meant with you.”
“Me?” Dragging his gaze from the scan, he turned to look at her. “What do you mean?”
“You seem different.”
Ethan leaned back in his chair. “Different? In what way am I different? I had the flu. I may have lost weight.”
“You poor, pathetic baby. No, it’s not that. You’re more relaxed. More like the old Ethan.”
“There was an old Ethan?” That was news to him.
“When I first met you, you were fun. Occasionally you even made me laugh. Lately you’ve gotten more serious.”
“You may not have noticed, but this is a serious job we do here. Life and death. That kind of thing.”
“All the more reason to enjoy the life part. So come on.” She nudged him so violently he wondered if he should be concerned about internal injuries.
“Come on, what?”
“Tell me the truth. It’s Harriet, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“The reason you’re suddenly mellow. She has softened all your rough edges. Living with her is good for you.”
“I’m not living with her.”
“Are you sure about that? Because last time I called by your apartment she had her things in the room next to yours. And she was mopping your fevered brow and looking like she gave a damn whether you lived or died.”
“She was dog sitting.”
“Right. Now you mention it, I remember seeing a dog.” Susan folded her arms. “Cute little black-and-white spaniel. But you seemed to be the one getting all the attention.”
“I was sick.”
“Yeah, well you won’t find me arguing with that.”
“She moved out a week ago.”
“That is a damn shame.” She leaned toward him. “Listen carefully, Dr. Hot, because I’m about to tell you something for free. Any woman who doesn’t want to kill a man when he’s sick is a keeper.”
“Maybe she did want to kill me. Can we maybe talk about something—”
“No. We’re talking about this. Why did she move out?”
“Because my sister came and collected Madi.”
“Madi?” Susan frowned. “Who the hell is Madi? Oh, you mean the dog?”
“Do not call her ‘the dog’ in front of Harriet,” Ethan muttered and Susan grinned.
“She really has whipped you into shape. So the dog left, and you let Harriet leave too.”
“I’ve told you—she was there as dog sitter. Without a dog to sit with, there wasn’t much of a reason for her to stay.”
“And you couldn’t think of a reason? What has happened to your brain?”
“My brain is good, thank you. She has her own home. Her own life.”
Susan shook her head. “Your lack of creativity is depressing. Have you called her since she moved out?”
“Why would I call her?” He’d intended to take her on a date, but then he’d gone down with the flu. And it wouldn’t have been a real date anyway. He’d been offering to do her a favor, that was all. Help her out, to make up for all the help she’d given him.
He ignored the small side of him that said he was lying to himself. That dinner with Harriet would have been a really good way to spend an evening.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t eaten dinner with her before. They’d eaten together most nights when he was home in time. Admittedly it had been casual, sitting at the kitchen island, chatting about what had happened during their day. No romantic lighting or dressing up. But he’d enjoyed it. In fact he’d enjoyed being with Harriet more than he could remember being with anyone in a long time.
There was something calming about her.
“To say thank you, to check how she’s doing, to ask her to dinner—I don’t know. You’re the man with the reputation with women, although clearly that reputation is not well deserved if you let her get away from you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Gorgeous girl, right there in your apartment, mopping your fevered brow, and you didn’t ravish her?”
“Ravish? What sort of word is ravish? It might have escaped your notice but I had trouble dragging myself to the bathroom for the first forty-eight hours. Ravishing anyone was beyond my capabilities.” But he’d thought about it.
“Feeble,” Susan muttered, visibly disgusted with his lack of motivation. “I really liked her, Ethan. I liked Alison, but the two of you together were just so wrong it was painful to watch. Not that I’m an expert, but if everyone on the planet had died of a hideous plague and you were the only two left, I would have suggested you both occupy different continents. You and Alison used to stand there comparing schedules. It made my unromantic heart break watching you. Now Harriet—” she lingered over the name “—she’s totally different. I don’t have many girlfriends. Don’t have the time but if I had one, I’d pick someone like Harriet. Fun, loyal, kind, great cook. And this is the part I don’t get—she moves into your house, takes care of your dog, generally improves your quality of life and then you wave her goodbye without even giving her the kiss of life?”
“She left my apartment conscious and breathing. She didn’t need the kiss of life.”
“For a smart guy, you’re stupid when it comes to women.”
“Knowing I’m not the right guy for her doesn’t make me stupid.”
But who would be? Not Eric, it seemed. Or Charlton. And how was she going to meet the right guy? She’d admitted she was giving up on internet dating, so what was she going to do? Hope to bump into someone in the park? It didn’t sound like a reliable strategy to him, especially for someone who was shy with people she didn’t know.
He thought about that first evening, when she’d stammered her way through their first encounter, and then remembered subsequent evenings when she’d been confident and comfortable.
All she needed to do was find a way to get through those few awkward hours when you first met someone. Once she relaxed, she had no problem. And he’d intended to help her with that part. He was the master of keeping things superficial. He could keep conversation skimming across the water like a hovercraft, never delving deeper. He preferred it that way.
Susan was scowling at him. “What makes you think you’re not the right guy?”
“Harriet deserves the best.”
“Jeez, Black.” She studied him for a moment. “I can’t believe the stuff you tell yourself.”
“What do you mean?”
“When you say ‘she deserves the best,’ what you’re really saying is ‘she and I could be good together and that scares the shit out of me so I’m going to do that man thing of pretending it isn’t happening and hope it all goes away.’”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“No? Then call her up.”
“Why would I call her up?”
“Because it would be the smart move, and you’re supposed to be smart. Unless I’m right about you being scared. Unless you’re afraid you might actually fall for her, because that would be awkward, wouldn’t it?”
“That’s not it.”
“Then what?”
He frowned. “Maybe I don’t want to hurt her. She’s the type of person who spends her life looking after vulnerable creatures.”
Susan rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t make her vulnerable herself. Does she seem like a fragile flower? I don’t think so. She can make up her own mind about whether you’re trouble or not. Let her decide if you’re worth taking a risk over.”
Ethan thought about what he knew about her childhood. No, she certainly wasn’t a delicate flower. But she had been hurt. And he disagreed that she wasn’t vulnerable. He suspected she was extremely vulnerable. “She’s a good, decent person.”
“Right. But that doesn’t make her weak, you butthead. What are you saying? You’d rather date someone bad and indecent?”
Ethan grasped the opportunity to change the subject. “Now you mention it, that does sound like fun.” He broke off as a nurse hurried across to him.
“Dr. Black? You’re needed in Trauma 1.”
Ethan stood up, relieved to have an excuse to escape the inquisition.
He strode down the corridor, Susan’s voice followed him.
“Call her, Black. Or I’ll call her myself and fix the two of you up.”
“I don’t have a reason to call her.”
He paused in midstride.
Or maybe he did…
HARRIET WALKED THROUGH the snowy expanse of Central Park with Brutus and Valentine. The two dogs adored each other so she was always happy to walk them together whenever Daniel and Molly needed her to. Brutus lived up to his name, an exuberant, slightly overbearing German shepherd whereas Valentine, a handsome Dalmatian, was sleek and cool. He never tugged on his lead and occasionally glanced over his shoulder to check Harriet was okay. He was a beautiful dog, and always drew glances wherever he went and not only because of his heart-shaped nose. Molly always claimed it was his nose that inspired his name, but Harriet wasn’t sure she believed her. Before Molly had met Daniel, she’d been totally off men.
Harriet had never felt that way, but she did often wonder how on earth you were supposed to meet someone you’d like to spend the rest of your life with. With almost all the men she’d met it had been a struggle to make it to the end of the date. The last one had lasted all of forty minutes. Clocking up forty years seemed ambitious.
But things had changed overnight for Molly. Maybe that could happen to her too.
She wondered what Ethan was doing. Working, probably. Saving a life.
Whereas she was walking dogs.
She hadn’t even had a chance to say a proper goodbye.
She’d been so exhausted after her weekend of playing nurse, she’d fallen asleep on the bed when she’d finished packing and woken to discover he’d left for work.
He’d left her a note. Two words, scrawled in bold black ink. They were close to illegible, but after five minutes of staring at the letters, puzzled, she’d finally decided it said thank you.
Was he thanking her for taking care of Madi, or him?
She was surprised he’d found the energy to return to work so soon, but Ethan Black wasn’t the type of guy to languish in bed for long.
She’d gathered the last of her things, and shortly after that Debra had arrived with Karen. It had been a crazy, emotional few moments during which Madi temporarily forgot all the manners Harriet had taught her over the previous week. Ecstatic, the little dog had returned home and so had Harriet.
And that, Harriet thought, was the end of that.
Madi was happy, Debra was happy, Ethan was most certainly happy.
The only person who would have liked the situation to carry on indefinitely, was Harriet.
She watched as Brutus and Valentine tumbled together on the snow, apparently indifferent to the cold.
After a good walk, she returned them to Molly, who had now moved into Daniel’s Fifth Avenue apartment and had been catching up on some work.
“You’re an angel.” Molly hugged her. “Do you want to come in? I’ve made tea.”
Molly was British and seemed to think hot tea was some kind of life-giving liquid. Harriet wondered how that worked for Daniel, who thought good wine was the most important liquid.
“I should probably get home. I haven’t had a chance to unpack and sort out my apartment.” The thought of it wasn’t exactly thrilling. There would be no Madi. And no Ethan.
Maybe it was time for her to get a life.
It was certainly time for her to think about getting a dog of her own.
“One cup.” Molly all but pulled her inside. “I haven’t seen you for a couple of weeks. I want to hear all about the sexy doctor you’ve been living with.”
“You’ve been talking to Fliss?” In her family, nothing was a secret it seemed. And Molly was as good as family.
Molly eyed her. “We might have exchanged a few words.”
“I was dog sitting.” She glanced round the apartment, feeling a twinge of envy as she noticed the huge fir tree covered in sparkling lights. “I love your tree. How did you talk Daniel into that?”
“I didn’t.” Molly put a mug of tea in front of her. “I bought it without checking with him. So much harder to protest once something is done, don’t you think?”
Harriet laughed. “Daniel never decorates.”
“He does now. Or rather I do, and he raises an eyebrow but says nothing. I love decorating for the holidays.” Molly thrust a book into her hands. “You need to read this.”
Harriet glanced at the book. “Mate for Life—I already have your book. I’ve read it cover to cover at least three times. I can pretty much recite the chapters. Right now I’d be happy to mate for five minutes. Mating for life seems an overly ambitious objective.”
“What I’m trying to say is that I think Ethan is perfect for you. If you apply some of the criteria I outline in my book, you’ll see what I mean. He’s responsible, kind, caring and he has leadership skills—”
“How do you know? You’ve never even met him.” Harriet kicked off her shoes and flopped onto the sofa, unable to resist the opportunity to talk about Ethan. Molly knew plenty about relationships. Maybe she could put her head back together. “You’ve spent too much time talking to my sister, that’s all.”
“Not just that.” Molly grinned. “I might have spent a morning watching his series filmed in the ER.”
“A whole morning?”
“It was meant to be a quick look, but he’s very watchable.”
She knew exactly how watchable he was. She’d spent the past week watching him in person.
“I haven’t seen it.”
“Well let’s put it this way, if I’m ever in an accident I want him running the show.”
Molly fanned herself, but before Harriet could respond the door opened and her brother strolled in. Brutus charged at him. He fielded the dog with one hand while disposing of his coat with the other.
Harriet was still getting used to seeing her brother wrestling with a dog. It was almost as alien as seeing him in love with a woman.
“Hey, babe.” Daniel gave Molly a long, appreciative kiss and Harriet rolled her eyes and slid her shoes on. She was happy for both of them, but if there was one thing she wasn’t in the mood for it was witnessing an excess of togetherness.
“And this,” she muttered, “is why I’m leaving the two of you alone. So that you can mate for life without witnesses.”
Daniel released Molly and gave Harriet a hug. “How are you doing?”
“Great,” Harriet lied, ignoring the question in Molly’s eyes. “Never better. But looking at your apartment makes me realize I’m nowhere near ready for Christmas. So I’m going home right now to decorate my own apartment.”
That part wasn’t a lie.
The first step to not dying alone surrounded by foster dogs was to take care of herself. And taking care included the little things.
Or maybe not so little, she thought half an hour later as she studied the tall fir tree propped against the wall in a side street off Fifth Avenue.
“You don’t have anything a little smaller?”
“A week ago I had every size you can imagine. They’re all gone. That’s it, lady. Take it or leave it.” The man selling trees looked grumpy, which took away some of the magic. Surely selling Christmas trees should be a happy experience?
She blew on her fingers and stamped her feet to keep warm. Maybe she should have planned this more carefully instead of being spontaneous.
Practical Harriet would have walked away. The tree was too big for her apartment. She lived alone. Why did she need a tree that big? Why did she need a tree at all?
Because she was tired of being practical Harriet.
She wanted to be rash, impulsive Harriet.
“I’ll take it.” She spoke loudly, as if volume somehow made her decision more permanent.
She almost changed her mind when he told her the price, but she handed over what seemed like an obscene number of dollars.
She was now the owner of a large Christmas tree, which was almost certainly not going to fit into her apartment. And now she had a new problem. How to get it home.
She was going to have to drag it, which probably wasn’t going to do much for its appearance.
“I hope you’re hardy.” She pushed her hand through the spiky branches and tried to grab the trunk. “You’re going to need to be, living with me.”
The man went from grumpy to alarmed. “I’m not living with you.”
“I was talking to the tree.”
His expression told her everything she needed to know about his feelings toward women who talked to trees.
She talked to dogs all the time. Why not trees?
All the same, it was time to get out of here before his moody expression removed the gloss from her very expensive purchase.
She tried picking it up, but couldn’t see where she was going, so she put it down again and started dragging it by the trunk.
Great. At this rate the tree would arrive at her apartment already decorated with whatever was lying on the streets of New York and that wouldn’t be pretty.
“Do you need help with that?” A deep, male voice came from behind her and she turned and saw Ethan Black. His coat hugged his broad shoulders and the collar was turned up against the wind, but what really drew her attention was his smile. It creased his cheeks and warmed his eyes until looking at him made her feel warm too. Madi was next to him, wagging her tail.
“Ethan? Madi? I—” Delight gave way to concern and she dropped the tree and the branches scraped her leg accusingly. “Is something wrong? Is Karen okay? Did the journey make her worse?”
“Nothing is wrong, and Karen is doing fine.”
She stooped to make a fuss over the dog. “So why do you have Madi?”
“Would you believe me if I said I missed her?”
Was he winding her up? This was the man who had almost had a panic attack when he’d first seen Madi in his apartment. “You—” She cleared her throat and straightened up. “Seriously?”
“You have no idea how empty my apartment feels.”
She knew exactly how empty his apartment probably felt because hers was the same. The difference was that she’d never like it that way, whereas he had.
“You mean how tidy it is. And quiet, because you’ve had no complaints from your neighbors.”
His smile widened. “That’s part of it.”
What was the other part? “So you borrowed Madi.”
“Karen and Debra have driven to the airport to meet my brother-in-law. He’s been on a business trip. I said I’d take the dog and drop her round later.”
Because that was what families did. They helped each other, even when they had a job as punishing as Ethan’s.
She noticed the sheen of his hair and the width of his shoulders. Her heart gave a flutter. “Aren’t you a little out of your way?”
“I wanted to see you. I wanted to check on how you’re doing.”
So it was a charity call.
Her heart rhythm slowly returned to normal. “I’m doing fine, thanks. Why wouldn’t I be? You didn’t need to check on me.”
“No more jumping out of restaurant bathrooms?”
“Just the one time.” She stooped to pick up the tree again, wondering why he’d bothered traipsing across town to ask her that.
“If you take Madi, I’ll carry that up to your apartment.” He held Madi’s lead out to her and she paused.
She wasn’t sure she wanted Ethan in her apartment. So far it was an Ethan-free space. The only memories of him there were the ones in her head and she was struggling to erase those. She didn’t need him spreading himself around the rest of her life.
On the other hand, if he helped her, it would solve the very real problem of how she was going to get the tree where it needed to go.
“Thanks.” She took Madi’s lead and dug in her pocket for her keys.
“Do you have an old blanket? Or a sheet?”
“I have one I use for the dogs.”
“Fetch it, and we’ll wrap the tree in it. Trust me, it will work.”
She did trust him, and it did work.
Twenty minutes later, the tree was safely installed in her apartment with almost all of its needles still attached. Ethan, it turned out, was as competent with misbehaving Christmas trees as he was with sick patients.
“It’s magnificent.” And Harriet was relieved. For a moment there she thought she might have blown a significant chunk of her earnings on a tree she couldn’t actually get to her apartment. She’d had visions of spending Christmas outside in the street with her tree. “Now I can make the place festive. Thank you so much.”
She expected Ethan to leave, but instead he took off his coat and laid it carefully over the back of one of her chairs. Then he dropped into a crouch and wiped Madi’s paws with a scrap of something he removed from his pocket.
Harriet watched. Was her mouth open?
It should have been, because she couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d come here to tell her he’d opened a pet sanctuary.
He glanced up at her. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re cleaning her paws.”
“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do when she’s been walking in the snow?”
“Yes, but—” She gulped. “What is that you’re using?”
“It’s a washcloth. I grabbed it when I was leaving the apartment.” He rose to his feet. “Is there a problem? Am I doing something wrong?”
No. He was doing everything right. That was the problem. “You’re not doing anything wrong.” And it might have helped her a bit if he had. “She looks happy.”
“She’s pleased to be home with her family, and who can blame her. Nice place you have here.”
Was he kidding? “It’s a tenth of the size of yours.”
“It’s charming. Really comfortable.” He scanned her bookshelves and she stiffened, hoping she hadn’t left her copy of Mate For Life anywhere visible. That would make for an awkward conversation.
Well, Dr. Hot, my soon-to-be sister-in-law thinks you’re perfect.
“Would you like a drink or something?”
It was so polite. So formal.
She was trying to forget that she’d undressed him down to his boxer briefs. Trying to forget she knew exactly what lay under that wool coat and thick black sweater.
He probably didn’t even remember that she’d been the one to remove his clothes.
In fact she wasn’t sure what he remembered.
Neither of them had ever mentioned that moment in the depths of the night when he’d almost kissed her.
It would have been easy enough to decide she’d imagined it, but she knew she hadn’t. She definitely hadn’t imagined it, but it was entirely possible that he’d been delirious at the time.
“I’d love a drink.” He turned from studying the books on the top shelf. “What do you have?”
“Soda. Wine.” She was starting to feel flustered now because she didn’t really know what this was. Was it a duty call? A social call? Their relationship was strange. Loaded with intimacy, even though they’d never been intimate. “I have beer, because Daniel drinks it.”
“Beer would be great. So where are your decorations?”
“Why?”
“Because I’ll help you.” He studied the tree. “It’s tall. You’re going to need help getting the decorations near the top.”
“You’re offering to help me decorate the tree? You, Dr. Scrooge, who won’t be Santa for the kids?”
“That’s different.” His gaze held hers for a long moment while the air around them was suddenly thickened by something thrilling and dangerous. “Where are your decorations?”
On edge, she fetched the box from under her bed, and together they decorated the tree.
She was agonizingly aware of every move he made.
It felt strange having him in her apartment.
“How was work? Are you fully recovered?”
“I’m tired, but doing okay. Thanks to you. I suspect my recovery wouldn’t have been so swift if you hadn’t been there making everything easy for me.” He took a silver decoration from her hand, his fingers brushing against hers. “I owe you dinner.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“Have you been on a date since you moved out of my apartment?”
She slid the decoration onto the tree. “It’s only been a week. Give me time.”
“In other words, no. I finish early tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Ethan—”
“Don’t argue. I want to take you to dinner.”
The question “why” hovered on her lips, but she didn’t say it because she already knew the answer. He’d promised, and he was a man of his word. Knowing that, she decided it was better to go along with this and get it out of the way. Then both of them could get on with their lives, debt free. “Fine. Great. Dinner. Where do you want me to meet you?”
“I’ll pick you up.” He finished hanging the decorations and stepped back. “It’s looking good. Now all you need is gifts.”
“I have a whole heap of them ready to be wrapped.”
“Then you’re all ready for the holidays. Still planning to spend it alone?”
“I won’t be alone. Just not with my family. I’m cooking lunch for Glenys and I plan on going over to the animal shelter for a few hours to help out. They struggle to find people on Christmas Day.”
“The animal shelter?”
“I foster for them, and occasionally help out walking and socializing the animals.”
“Socializing?”
“Some of these animals haven’t had happy lives. It increases the likelihood of finding a forever family if they have some positive experiences with people.”
“And that’s the goal?” His gaze held hers. “Finding a forever family?”
Why was he looking at her like that?
And what had happened to her voice? It had been working perfectly fine a few moments earlier.
“Yes. We try and find good homes for them where they’re loved and wanted.”
And that, she thought, was exactly what she wanted for herself.