Chapter Four
Derek
I woke up early on Sunday morning, which was unusual these days. Since I’d come home from the hospital following my last surgery, I’d given myself tacit permission to throw out the schedule on which I’d lived for the decade before—no more early wake-up calls for PT, no more regimented, timed-to-the minute itinerary. How easily all of that had fallen by the wayside had been a little unsettling to a guy like me, who’d assumed I’d be in the Army until I died or was forced to retire.
But when there was no reason to get out of bed before dawn, it wasn’t difficult to justify lazing around. Sleeping until ten or even later had become a matter of defiance for me, a way of flipping the bird at . . . who? The Army? Past me? I wasn’t sure how to direct the anger that I still felt. I didn’t blame the military for my injury; it had been a randomly-timed, unpredictable wind gust coupled by a faulty D-clip. Maybe I was mad at myself for not bouncing back faster, or at my body for what I saw as its betrayal.
Today, though, I had a reason to pull my bones out of bed. I had promised Tasha that I’d attempt yard work, and there was a chance that she might show up to check on me. Why that idea motivated me, I couldn’t explain—or maybe I just didn’t want to think about it too closely.
Initially, I’d scoffed at the idea of this tiny woman being able to do anything to help me, but the truth was that Tasha O’Hare was a hell of a lot stronger than she appeared to be. She didn’t take any nonsense from me, and she didn’t coo over me when I started in on my poor-me bullshit. She had a way of looking at me that made me aware of just how thoroughly she saw through my crap.
But she was also encouraging. She didn’t lie to me, but she did give me hope. That itself was a freaking miracle. When she’d said on Friday that she wanted me to try working on my lawn, something in my brain had clicked, because Tasha believed I could do this. I could take back something that had made me who I was, once upon a time. I could recover a little piece of the me who used to be, and if that was possible, then . . . other things might follow.
I showered, even though I knew that I was going to be getting dirty and sweaty. I didn’t shave, though; I didn’t want Tasha to think I’d done anything special just because she was coming over. If she came over. Because she might, but then again, she might not. I’d seen on her face that she was worried about what showing up at my house might mean. For all her stern glares at me, this girl had a face that I could read like a book. And I’d seen it clearly on Friday: she was concerned that I was developing feelings for her beyond that a patient should have for his doctor.
Well, duh.
Of course, I wasn’t going to confirm that. But the more time I spent with Tasha, the more I liked her. And beyond that, I was attracted to her in a way I hadn’t been to any woman since before the accident, maybe even longer. I found that I loved her laugh, I appreciated her spunk, and I was having trouble hiding how hard I got whenever she touched me.
She was always professional, of course. Tasha knew what she was doing, and there was a quiet assuredness in her when we worked together. Her hands on me were only meant to guide or correct, but unfortunately, no one had let my dick in on that little tidbit of knowledge. He had a mind of his own, and more than once, I’d had to turn to my side abruptly to hide the tent in my shorts. Luckily, Tasha always assumed I moved in response to pain, not embarrassment.
All morning, as I ate breakfast and then made the pilgrimage to the garage to gather the tools I’d need, I kept up a steady mantra in my head. She might not come. And that’s okay. I steeled myself against the disappointment I knew I’d feel when she didn’t show up today, remembering that if she didn’t, it was only because she didn’t want to cross boundaries. It had nothing to do with me.
I pictured how I’d play it off on Monday, at my regular appointment, if she didn’t come today. I’d pretend that I’d never really expected her to come by. If she apologized or tried to explain, I’d act like it hadn’t mattered to me, anyway. But all during those rehearsed conversations, another set of could-bes crept in: what would I say if she did show up? How was I going to play this? If I made a move to show her what I was feeling, would she get skittish and turn tail?
Brooding on all of this, I loaded my rake, shovel, hoe and clippers into the wheelbarrow and lifting the handles, began wheeling it down the driveway. The morning air was soft, and from the nearby trees, birds chirped happily. A couple of squirrels raced past me, and in the middle of the lawn, a small rabbit lifted his head to gaze at me in surprise.
“That’s right,” I said, unable to hide the smile in my voice. “I’m back. So, you all are going to have to stop eating my flowers and digging up the beds, got it? You’ve had a long vacation from me, a long time to get used to doing whatever the hell you want out here, but it’s over now.”
“Who are you talking to, dude?”
I turned around, startled, to see Owen standing behind me, his hands buried in his pockets and an expression of amusement on his face. I hadn’t heard him pull up alongside the curb. Damn stupid electric car. That thing was like the spy mobile, it was so silent.
“I was talking to the squirrels and the rabbits, giving them notice that their reign of terror here is over now. What the hell are you doing here?”
He grinned at me and shrugged. “I just happened to be driving by, and I saw you standing out in your front yard. I thought I’d see what you were up to.”
“Uh huh.” I narrowed my eyes. “Did Tasha put you up to this? Is this her way of checking in on me?”
“Who’s Tasha?” Owen began rolling up his sleeves, reaching for the rake.
“Oh. Um, Ms. O’Hare. My physical therapist.” Damn, now I had to explain. “See, this was my assignment from her today—to get back out here and work on the yard, like I used to. And I thought maybe she’d called Shaw to get you guys to make sure I was doing what she said.”
He shook his head. “Nah. Seriously, I was just passing by. I was going to grab a burger and a beer, watch the game this afternoon . . . nothing big. But I’d rather stay here and give you a hand.”
Now I was stuck. I couldn’t chase Owen away, not without coming off like an asshole and not without him getting suspicious. Swallowing a sigh, I picked up the clippers. “Okay, sure, if that’s what you want. You can get started on raking out the beds. We’ll put the leaves into the bins in the garage—you can drag them out here—and I’ll compost them later.”
For the next thirty minutes, we worked together in companionable silence. Owen wasn’t a loud guy; he wasn’t a talker, and when we all hung out, he was the one most likely to sit and listen to the rest of us. I’d gotten to know him pretty well in the months leading up to my accident, because along with Jake and me, he’d been the only single man left in our group. Even before Shaw had officially begun dating his Delia, he’d been so hung up on her that he hadn’t wanted to go out with us.
And now with Jake getting hot and heavy with Samantha’s former roommate, Harper, it looked like Owen and I were truly the last men standing. I wasn’t sure how that made me feel. Were we the ones too wily to be caught, or were we being left behind by the rest of our friends?
I thought of Tasha, and I considered what it would be like to do more than just bang her. What would happen if I asked her on a date? Was she one of these chicks who wanted monogamy, security and a commitment? Or wasn’t she ready to settle down?
“You okay, man?” Owen frowned at me, resting his hands on the top of the rake handle. “You’re just kind of standing there.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I was just thinking—”
A car horn sounded nearby, and my heart leaped at the same time that my brain went into overdrive. Tasha! But when I turned around to look, it wasn’t her. Instead, Shaw’s Jeep had slowed to a stop behind Owen’s car, and as I watched, four men spilled out.
“Hey! Heard there was a party going on here, and no one invited the fun guys.” Jake jogged over to where I stood and elbowed me in the ribs as he came to a halt. “Get it? The fun guys? Like fungi? Because we’re working in your yard?”
“Yeah, I get it. But it’s not funny, so I’m not laughing. What are you doing here?”
Shaw lumbered over. “Clearly crashing a private deal between you and Hughes, here. What the fuck, Mac? How come you snubbed the rest of us?”
“I didn’t snub you. I didn’t invite Owen, either. He just happened to see me and offered to help.”
“Cool.” Max hefted a huge burlap bag out of the back of the Jeep. “We stopped at the garden center and got some lawn food. It’s organic, because I promised Samantha I wouldn’t put chemical crap on your grass.” He grimaced. “Her words, not mine.”
“Clearly.” I watched, bemused, as my friends began to spread out over my yard, some of them ducking into the garage to retrieve more equipment. This was just peachy. What the hell was I going to do with them, and what if Tasha came over?
“Derek.” Kade stopped next to me, laying a hand on my shoulder. “I know you didn’t expect all of us today. But we want to help, okay? We want to do . . . something. For the last few months, we’ve all felt so fucking helpless, and now this feels like something we can do. This isn’t us feeling sorry for you. If that was it, we’d have taken care of this sorry ass mess ages ago. We want to support you, not because we think you need us to help you.”
I sucked in a deep breath. Kade was perceptive, because I had been getting my back up about just that very thing. “Okay. I guess I can understand that.” I swallowed hard. “It’s tough, you know? To not be like you guys anymore. To be the one who doesn’t fit. Your lives are all going on. Max is getting married. You’re already married, and you have a kid. Shaw has Delia, Jake has Harper . . . and all of you are moving ahead in your career. Meanwhile, here I sit, stagnating.”
Instead of arguing with me like I’d expected, Kade only nodded. “I can see how you might feel that way, especially when the pain was so bad that you were having trouble functioning. But everything seems to be getting better now. I can tell just by watching you move. I was saying to the colonel yesterday that I figured you’d be back at work pretty soon.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “It’s been on my mind, too. I guess maybe I’ve been afraid to think about it—that I’d try and fail. That’s what I worry about the most, you know? Finding out that I’ll never be as good as I was before. Right now, I exist in a state of potential, and it feels . . . safer. What if I can’t be who I used to be, Kade?”
His eyes were steady on me. “Then you’ll figure out what comes next. But you gotta think about it this way, Mac. We’re all getting older. We’ve been in the Army for over ten years. None of us are going to be the same. And that’s all right.”
With a grin and punch on my shoulder, Kade headed over to where the others had gotten busy. I watched him go, his words lingering in my mind, and then I picked up my shovel and followed him.
* * *
“Damn, we do good work.” Shaw sank onto the porch step next to me. Behind us, the rest of the guys sprawled. We were all filthy, tired and smelly, but holy shit, did it feel good to be here, with all my buddies, looking out on the work that we’d done.
And fuck if I hadn’t pulled my own weight and then some. Maybe I didn’t move quite as fast as some of them, but I’d lifted, clipped, raked, dug and mowed for three solid hours.
“Derek, man, if you don’t win yard of the month again now, the contest is rigged for sure.” Max nudged my arm with his foot.
“Yeah, that’s true,” agreed Jake. He cracked open a beer and took a long swig. “God, I can’t move, but I really need to get home. Harper’s done in a few hours, and I promised I’d cook for her tonight.”
“Home?” Owen mimicked his word. “I’m assuming that you’re not talking about the barracks, dude. When you say home, you mean her house, don’t you?”
Jake didn’t look at all fazed. “Yep. That’s exactly what I mean. Home’s where Harper is.”
And the weirder thing was that no one made fun of him. No one called him on being whipped or complained about what he’d said. They all just let it slide.
A small blue car turned the corner, cruising slowly down my road. Kade squinted out toward the road.
“Hey, look, that chick’s totally scoping out your front yard, Derek. She’s slowing down and . . . huh. Why’s she stopping?”
I already knew the answer to that question, because once I’d gotten a decent look into the car’s window, I’d spied a head of bright red curls. My heartbeat sped up a little.
“Isn’t that . . .” Shaw’s voice trailed off. “Yeah, it’s the physical therapist. What’s she doing here?”
I cleared my throat and fought my body’s natural instinct, which was to jump to my feet and race over, take Tasha by the hand and show her what I’d done, like a little kid eager to show off his handiwork.
“Doing the yard work today was kind of my homework assignment from her, and she said she might stop by to make sure I followed through.” I wasn’t going to share that it was me who’d made the suggestion.
“Talk about hands-on care.” Jake’s voice was low, and I knew Tasha couldn’t possible hear him, but still, his words burned.
“Shut the fuck up.” I twisted so that I could see his face and he could get a look at the fury on mine. “You hear me? I don’t want you to make her feel uncomfortable.”
Jake’s eyebrows soared almost into his hairline. “Ooookay . . .” He looked as though he might have said more, but Max elbowed him in the ribs, and he snapped his mouth shut.
Meanwhile, Tasha had switched off her ignition and climbed out of the car. She meandered up the driveway, and I noticed that she was studiously paying attention to the borders of the lawn, with the fresh mulch and flowers, and to the newly-mown state of the grass. She didn’t look our way at all until she was on the sidewalk that led to my front door. When she did acknowledge the lot of us, it was with a big smile.
“Well, hello, boys. You must be Captain McTavis’s friends.” She stopped a few feet away from us. “I’m Tasha O’Hare, his physical therapist.”
All of the guys got to their feet—albeit a little slowly—and introduced themselves. I watched, silent, as Tasha shook hands and greeted each one by name.
“I have to say, this yard looks incredible.” She turned to look out over the lawn. “I mean, I didn’t see what it was like before—”
“Oh, I have pictures.” Jake stepped up, slid his phone from his back pocket, and flipped his thumb over the screen until he found what he wanted. “Check these out.”
Tasha pushed her sunglasses up onto the top of her head and peered down at the photos. “Oh, wow. Huh.” She finished and handed the phone back to Jake. “Yeah, now I’m even more impressed.”
“It was mostly Derek.” Owen spoke up. “I mean, yeah, we helped out a little, but this has always been his baby. It was cool that he could get back out here. You must be good at your job.”
Her cheeks pinked up a little at the compliment, and I waited for her to look at me . . . but she didn’t. She hadn’t acknowledged my presence the entire time she’d been here, and it was starting to piss me off. It was as though she and my friends were talking about me, like I wasn’t even standing among them.
“Captain McTavis is an excellent patient, and he works very hard. He’d had such good care all along that I actually did very little. I just provided some guidelines and ideas.” Finally, finally, her eyes flickered to mine. When she looked at me, I felt like the rest of the world had vanished, and it was hard to remember that it hadn’t, that my friends were still here with me.
“Well.” Shaw coughed a little. “Jake, didn’t you say something about needing to get home? And Dee’s making dinner for Sandra and Colin tonight, so I should be there to give her a hand.”
They began to move as a group, each of them giving me a pat on the back or a punch on the arm as they passed. Owen and Max gathered the empty beer bottles and chucked them into my recycling bin on their way out.
“Well.” Tasha stood with her hands on her hips, angling her body away from me as she watched my friends climb into the two cars. “I sure know how to break up a party.”
“It wasn’t a party.” I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to clarify that. “They just . . .” I frowned. “Owen saw what I was doing and stopped to lend me a hand, and I guess he must’ve texted the others and told them, too. They wanted us all to do something together again, like old times. But I worked out here. I really did.”
“Derek.” Tasha stepped closer to me and laid her hand on my arm. “I know. Good Lord, even if I wasn’t inclined to believe you, all I have to do is look at you and see that you did.” She smiled, and my senses went into overdrive. “How do you feel?”
I considered her question, taking a quick assessment of my body. “Uh . . . good. I mean, I’m tired, and yeah, I’m a little bit sore, but probably not much more than I would’ve been before.” I raised my left leg experimentally, bending it at the knee, waiting for the same old shot of pain to streak through my hip. But it didn’t come.
“The leg’s all right?” She fell back into her therapist role, watching me critically. “Did you have any problems today at all?”
I opened my mouth to tell her that no, I hadn’t felt any pain beyond what I’d reasonably expected. But before I could, I saw my opening, my chance to say something that had the potential to make clear exactly what I was feeling.
“I did have one persistent problem.” Keeping my eyes steady on hers, I reached for her hand, where it still rested on my arm. “I was afraid you weren’t going to show up.”
She stilled, all of her freezing in place as though she were afraid to even breathe. But she didn’t pull away, and I decided that was a good thing. I plunged ahead.
“All weekend, I was looking forward to the possibility of seeing you . . . here, at my house. I know it’s crazy, but it’s true.”
“Derek.” Her voice was filled with a mixture of emotion: worry, trepidation, warning . . . and maybe a little tiny thread of regret.
“I already know what you’re going to say, and maybe you’re right.” With my thumb, I drew small circles over the back of her hand. “Maybe I’m just interested in you because you’re my therapist, because we’ve been working so closely together, or maybe there’s even some fancy shit psychological word for what I’m feeling. Maybe if I met you under other circumstances, there wouldn’t have been a click. Maybe if I’d met you before my accident, we never would’ve looked twice at each other.”
She lifted one shoulder in a small shrug, and I saw her throat work as she swallowed. Knowing that she was struggling here, too, gave me the courage to keep talking.
“But the thing is, we did meet when and how we did, and while I get that your job, who you are and who I am might make something between the two of us dicey, I also think we’d be damn fools to let a whole lot of maybes and could-bes keep us from finding out.”
I slipped my fingers underneath the palm of her hand and lifted our two hands, twining our fingers. Tasha didn’t tug away from me, even when I gently pulled her a little closer. The eyes she raised to me were luminous, even if they were a little clouded with uncertainty. I didn’t want to push her if she felt uncomfortable.
Dipping my head until my lips were close to her ear, I whispered, “Should we find out, Tasha?”
For a moment, she didn’t respond. And then with a soft sigh, she laid her free hand alongside my cheek, nudging my face up and standing on her toes to slant her mouth across mine.
As we touched, my heart sped up until I was sure she could feel it pounding against her chest. I’d expected her to be tentative and cautious, but instead, her kiss was hungry, full of need. With a groan that started deep in my abdomen, I slid my hands to her ribcage, pressing her body closer to mine. I could feel her small breasts against me, the nipples hardening through her clothes.
It had been so long since I’d wanted a woman this way, so long since I’d held anyone in my arms. My instinct was to scoop her up and march inside my house, where we wouldn’t come up for air for at least twenty-four hours. But I knew that I was moving too fast and thinking too far ahead. I had to take baby steps, because Tasha was too important to me to rush. I needed her to understand that I wasn’t looking for a one-time hookup. What I needed from her was so much more than that.
Still . . . for now, I was holding her. Her arms had snaked around to my back, where she gripped my T-shirt, still damp from the day’s sweaty work. And when I traced the seam of her lips with the tip of my tongue, she opened for me, humming in pleasured approval as I explored the inside of her mouth.
Even though I knew we weren’t going to take this any further today, I couldn’t help letting my thumbs tease the undersides of her boobs, just to give myself the memory of how she felt. With a quick intake of breath, she wriggled against me, and fuck, I was so tempted to cup her sweet tits and play with those hard nipples. I wanted to suck the rosy buds into my mouth and hear the sounds she’d make as I raised her ever higher.
With enormous effort, I pulled back a little, dropping small parting kisses on the corners of her puffy mouth.
“If I don’t stop now, I won’t.” My voice was hoarse. “And as good as not stopping sounds, I don’t want to push you into anything that makes you uncomfortable.”
Tasha let out a long exhale and rested her forehead on my shoulder for a minute before easing away from me. “You’re right. I wish I was the kind of girl who’d say who cares and drag you up to your bedroom, but I’m not.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, her brows knit. “And it’s more than just my job and the fact that you’re a patient. I have my own history, too. I can’t do impulsive anymore. I tried it once, and it was a disaster.”
I nodded. She must’ve had a doozy of a break-up at some point. “I get that. I’m not looking for quick and easy, Tash. I want more with you. At least, I think I do. I’d like to have the time and opportunity to find out for sure.”
She met my eyes, searching in mine for something. “I . . . I haven’t been looking for anything, Derek. For anyone, I mean. I’m just getting back on my feet.”
“I promise, I won’t push you into anything.” I snagged her hand again and lifted the knuckles to my lips. “Just . . . don’t say no, okay? Be open to possibilities.”
She gazed up at me, and I could tell she was thinking, taking stock of every angle of this situation. When she finally smiled, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
“Okay. Possibilities. But—” She raised one finger between us. “We keep this quiet. I don’t want trouble at work. And when you’re at the clinic with me for your appointments, no funny business, got it? There are lines I won’t cross.”
“I understand.” I squeezed her hand. “With that in mind, I need to ask you two questions: one to Ms. O’Hare, my therapist, and one to Tasha, the woman who turns me on just by giving me a dirty look.”
Tasha rolled her eyes. “All right. Both of us are listening. Shoot.”
“After how well I did today, I was thinking about going back to work, at least part-time. What do you think?”
She grinned. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask about that. You’ve been ready for a few weeks, but it had to be on your timetable. I think you can handle it without any problem. Maybe start this week at just three days, and take it easy. You’ll be surprised at first how much it takes out of you, going back to a regular routine after being off for so long. Oh, and no physical training for three weeks—and after that, modified PT. I want you to ease back into that regimen.”
“Will do.” I saluted her, earning myself a poke in the ribs. “Now, Ms. O’Hare, what do you think about me asking this super-hot chick Tasha on a date? I was going to suggest we drive up to Richmond, so she doesn’t have to worry about anyone seeing us and getting their panties in a bunch.”
“Hmmmm.” She tapped her chin, eyes narrowing. “Are you interested in this, uh, super-hot chick?”
“Completely. She’s all I can think about.”
Her lips curled up into a smile. “And you think she might be interested, too?”
“Well.” I leaned down as though I was about to confide a secret. “She just gave me the kind of kiss that makes me think she is.”
“Was it good, this kiss?” Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away from me.
“It was the best fucking kiss of my life,” I murmured. “It made me want to drag her up to my bedroom and do things that would make her come until she screams my name. And it also made me want to keep on kissing her until neither of us could breathe.”
“Well, then.” Tasha tilted her head. “As your physical therapist, I think I’d have to recommend that you ask her out. Your idea sounds perfect—very thoughtful and accommodating.”
“But do you think she’ll say yes?”
She slipped her arms around my neck, urging my lips close to hers, and kissed me with her mouth open, her tongue stroking against mine. Just when I was about to reconsider the whole dragging her up to my bedroom idea, she murmured something low.
“I think it’s a pretty safe bet that she will.”