Over the course of the next week, after the bombshell she hit him with by making him see his niece and nephew, Derrick seemed even more determined to thwart regular sessions. As if Janine would let his stubbornness get in the way of his treatment. She always managed to track him down and created opportunities on the go, but she couldn’t have said if she was getting through to him.

For, as often as she got him to talk, in the end, he drew even more out of her with pointed questions about her childhood, asking about her life with her new father. How she worked her way through school so her parents could pay off the mortgage and have the security of a home for when the next financial crisis hit.

Surprisingly enough, despite their unorthodox sessions, she learned a bit about him, revelations that came spottily in between his outbursts, where he tried to push her away.

“Why do you give a damn?” he yelled one day when particularly annoyed. His wheelchair got stuck in a muddy rut, and she had to push him out. He didn’t like that, didn’t like dependence of any sort on anyone. “Why do you care what I’m thinking or what my plans are for the future?”

“I care because you’re alive, and I want you to stay that way.” Because, despite all their progress, a part of her feared he would go down the same dark path her father had. So many demons plagued Derrick, the biggest of all the one of doubt. He truly believed he no longer had a place or purpose in the world. That erroneous mindset had to go.

It was during the second week that she decided it was time, once again, to push him out of his comfort zone. Apart from the nightmares, Derrick appeared perfectly capable of getting around and caring for himself, but he’d grown too comfortable on the rehab grounds. Surrounded by the orderlies and doctors—who were, as he sneeringly put it, “Paid to be nice to the kooky patients”—and other wounded vets such as himself dealing with their own issues. Derrick needed a reminder that another world existed outside the gated confines of the rehab center. Of course, he initially refused to go.

Knowing he’d balk, she gave him very short notice. “We’re going out tonight. In an hour actually. Somewhere off grounds.”

“No, I’m not.” His immediate reply.

“Think again. It’s time you reintegrated with the real world.”

“The real world can blow me.”

The rude remark didn’t even make her blink. “Not if you’re hiding here, it can’t.”

He scowled. “Even if I agreed, I’ve seen your car. It’s too small to take me and my chair.”

She wouldn’t ask how he knew what she drove. Chances were he’d investigated her. Curiosity, a healthy sign because it meant he was taking an interest in something other than his misery.

“You’re right, my car is too small, but we’re not taking it. I got a special vehicle for tonight.”

“Oh that sounds fun. I’ve always wanted to take the short bus,” he griped.

“Stop being such a Debbie Downer. This will be fun.”

“This is a bad idea,” he growled just over an hour later as he wheeled himself out to the employee parking lot, his attempt to escape blocked because she guarded the elevator, expecting him to try.

“Everything is a bad idea to you. So stop bitching. It’s very unattractive.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be attractive.”

Did he know his lower lip jutted when he said it? “Too late for that. You’re already cute.”

“You think I’m cute?” Incredulity gave his query a high pitch.

At the realization of what she’d said aloud, she froze but didn’t turn around. “Yes, you’re good-looking, in a purely professional way, of course.”

He snorted. “I am not going to sue you for sexual harassment. As if anybody would believe it anyway. Hot doctors don’t lust after cripples.”

The backhanded compliment warmed her heart, but his disparagement irritated her. She cuffed him in the head, not exactly an approved practice for therapy, but needed in this case.

“Hey! What was that for?” Derrick exclaimed.

“Being a dumbass. You are still a very attractive man. Being in a wheelchair hasn’t changed that.”

“Attractive doesn’t mean I can perform.”

“Is your sex education so woefully lacking? There is more to coitus than penile penetration.” Saying it out loud made her cheeks heat, and she could only hope he didn’t notice.

A noise escaped him, half-chuckle, half-disbelief. “Wow, talk about sucking all the fun out of it. Penile penetration? Really?”

“Would you have preferred slamming the salami home?” Her rejoinder resulted in a rusty chuckle. “If we’re done analyzing word choices, think fast.” She twirled around and tossed a set of keys at him. His hand shot up and grabbed them mid-air.

“What are these for?”

“That.” She pointed at the minivan behind her. “You’re driving.”

“Drive how? You know my feet don’t work. Is this supposed to be another brutal reality check?” he snapped.

Pausing at the trunk, she replied, “As a matter of fact, it is. And you should have a little more faith. This van is a modified one. Gas and brake are by the steering column. Think you can handle that?” She arched a brow at him and leaned against the open cargo door.

“What if I don’t want to drive?”

“Oh please, you’ve got too much testosterone to willingly let a woman drive you.”

“Are you saying I’m chauvinistic? I’ll have you know I have the greatest respect for women. I had to or my mother would have beaten me to within an inch of my life.”

She grinned. “Not all chauvinism is bad. A little cockiness is what makes men, men. And one of the things men seem to enjoy doing is driving. So stop bitching and get your ass in the van.” She pressed a button. “As you can see, it’s got a ramp for your chair. I didn’t get the van with the lift because I figured you could handle a little slope.”

“It’s a handicapped van?” He made a face.

“It’s a modified vehicle adapted to those facing certain challenges.”

“That’s just a fancy way of saying handicapped.”

“Maybe, and you’re splitting hairs. Enough of that. I brought you something you could drive. The expected response would be, thank you, Janine, for being so thoughtful.”

“Thank you for being a pain in my ass,” he grumbled.

“You’re welcome. Now get moving so we can hit the town. I think after the progress we’ve made these past weeks, we both deserve a drink.”

“You’re going to let me drink?”

“Why not? You’ve worked hard, and a drink or two won’t hurt you.” She could see she’d surprised him. He kept making assumptions about what he could and couldn’t do. About how he could live. It was what happened when someone like him refused to listen and convinced himself he knew everything. Derrick needed someone to show him that he didn’t.

“Once you’re in the van, press this button to retract the ramp and this one to close the trunk.” She pointed to the electronic controls. “Holler if you need help,” she quipped as she stepped away from him. It actually took a lot of effort to walk away and let him deal with himself and his chair on his own. Manners said she should offer him a hand, and yet she knew he’d snap at any hand that dared to extend to give him help.

So, ignoring him, she clambered into the passenger seat of the van and pretended disinterest as the van dipped first when he hauled himself onto the bumper and interior lip. Then again when he dragged the chair in after him. He had, of course, eschewed the electric ramp extended from the van.

Whatever his method, he secured his wheelchair and made it through the wide gap between the seats, again a custom feature for this type of vehicle. He said not a word as he maneuvered into the driver seat. When he didn’t immediately put the keys in and start the engine, she prodded him.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked.

“Still wondering if this is a good idea.”

“If you really don’t think you can’t handle this, then we’ll go inside. Maybe find a movie to watch. Or some crochet to pass the time.”

Yes, she deliberately goaded him. He didn’t want her to mollycoddle him, therefore she didn’t, and she knew enough of his personality right now to know he needed the challenge to keep him motivated.

He jammed the key into the ignition and got the engine purring. “You’re really sly,” he observed as he squeezed the levers, revving the engine, and set the brakes.

“Just doing my job.” Problem was the line between work and personal kept getting blurred. She already did and said too many things with Derrick that crossed ethical boundaries. She tried to relieve her guilt by reminding herself he wasn’t like the human patients she dealt with day to day. Nor was he like the shifters she’d met via her stepdad. Derrick was so much more than any of them.

She must have spent a moment too long thinking because the van jolted, snapping her out of her fugue.

“Easy on the brake there. And to think people complain about woman drivers,” she quipped.

“A little whiplash helps tone the neck muscles.”

“My neck muscles are fine, thank you.”

“Says you. But a woman should keep them fit.”

The innuendo proved sly, but she caught it. “That was a very guy thing to say.”

“Thank you. I’d like to think that even though the junk isn’t working that I still am chauvinistic enough to maintain my standing in the man club.”

“What is it with guys ascribing to misogynist attitudes?”

“Are you telling me you don’t have the same kind of thoughts about dudes?” He shot her a glance, a rare teasing light in his gaze. “Oh, Marsha, you should have seen him with his shirt off,” he mimed a high-pitched voice. “Think he can fix my car?” His voice dropped several octaves. “Have you seen the size of his feet?”

“That’s another very guy statement. Why do you think women are obsessed with your size? We’re not, you know. When I date a man, I don’t think about his, er, girth.” Yeah, she stumbled a little and blushed. “Compatibility and an ability to stand each other when not being intimate is more important.”

“Are you denying that sexual intimacy is a huge factor?” He sounded angry, and she knew he expected her to say sex didn’t matter. She wouldn’t lie to him.

“Intimacy is very important in any relationship, but there are many ways to achieve that intimacy. As I said before, not all of them require penile penetration.” She stared at the hands in her lap, trying to maintain a professional composure, and failing miserably. Heat suffused her.

“You keep saying I don’t need a dick to fuck and keep a woman happy. So what do I get out of it?”

“Have you never sexually pleasured a partner just because it would be enjoyable?”

“Yes, but it was different.”

“How was it different? Didn’t you enjoy it?”

“Yes, I fucking enjoyed it. But I also knew I could fuck her if I had to. Now, all I’ve got is my tongue and fingers. Nothing else.”

“I wouldn’t say you have nothing. Even you admit there are other methods.”

“Is this your way of telling me to get my tongue in shape? Maybe get my hands manicured so they’re soft for finger-fucking? How about a strap-on so she can get the feel of a hard cock slamming into her?” As they ventured into uncomfortable territory, he resorted to crass words.

She could handle crass. It was the vulnerability that drowned her. “I’m not going to explain the various methods you can use to achieve satisfaction because you obviously have a good idea. But I am going to address the fact that I think you’re afraid you’ll get nothing from the experience. And I won’t lie and tell you it will be the same. It won’t. Yet, while you might not ejaculate in the regular sense, if you allow yourself, then you can still achieve a certain amount of pleasure from the act. You can find sexual fulfillment.”

“Are you seriously going to try and convince me that I’m going to have some kind of phantasm orgasm?” He uttered a derisive snort. “Maybe I’ll shoot some ectoplasmic cum.”

“Why are you so scared to believe me?”

She noted his knuckles turned white where he gripped the steering wheel. “I’m not afraid.”

“You’re lying, and I don’t know why. Haven’t you figured it out yet? We’re all afraid, Derrick. Every single one of us faces fear on a daily basis. Life is a series of challenges. It’s up to us to meet them head-on.”

“And what if we fail those challenges?”

“Then, you try again. Don’t be a quitter.” At those words, he turned silent. She broke it as they neared their destination. “Turn here. This is where we’re going.”

A rapid twist of the wheel brought them into the lot, and he quickly parked. As she stepped from the van onto the gravel, she could hear the retro metal tunes blasting from the bar. She made her way to the back and opened the trunk, only to realize Derrick still sat in the driver’s seat.

“Aren’t you coming?” she asked.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” The soft admission probably didn’t come easy. She clambered in through the back and made her way to a spot behind his seat.

“If you really think this is too much or too soon, then we’ll leave.” She reached through the seats and gripped his hand. “But I don’t just think you can do this, I know you can. It’s time to face the world again, Derrick.”

“By hitting a bar?”

“You have to start somewhere. Would you prefer another place?”

For a moment he sat, not replying. He sighed. “I really hate your subtle bossy nature.”

“Then let me try and not be subtle. Get your ass out of that seat. I’m thirsty, and you’re buying the first round.”

“I am?”

“Yup.”

Given his eschewing of the ramp before, she jumped out of the back, grabbed his wheelchair—staggered a bit as it took her off balance—and set it on the pavement. Then she struggled a few minutes to open the damned thing. When she looked up, she noted Derrick sitting on the bumper, shaking his head.

She gestured to it. “Your chariot awaits.”

“You do know I could have done that in half the time?”

“A thank you would suffice.”

“A thank you will depend on my rage levels once this new experiment of yours fails.”

“Have a little faith.” Hopefully, he didn’t notice the fingers crossed behind her back. This part of the rehabilitation plan required other people, strangers. She just hoped she got a good bunch, or she might set him back. Derrick sat at an apex in his treatment right now. It required careful maneuvering lest she send him tumbling down the wrong side.

As they approached the bar, the music getting louder, she began to second-guess herself.

Is he ready for this? Maybe we should go somewhere quieter, just the two of us. Yeah, because what she needed was alone time with Derrick.

Avoiding intimate scenarios was the exact reason she’d brought him to such a public place. More and more she found herself drawn to this man torn by his past and emotions. She discovered a vested interest in his well-being and future, an interest that wasn’t professional. This was about more than making sure he didn’t follow the same path as her father. This was about more than accomplishing a job.

I want him to succeed. Because then he wouldn’t need her as a doctor, and if he wasn’t her patient…

Just thinking of something more should have sent her back to the rehab center and making a phone call to her stepdad to be replaced. Instead of doing the right thing, though, she followed her heart, right into the bar with Derrick.