Carson
I grabbed the knot of the tie around my neck and tugged at it for the tenth time tonight. Damn thing was about to choke me.
Though I wasn’t a tie-wearing kind of guy, tonight I’d had no choice. Joss had been asked to sub for another doctor at a black-tie fundraiser event, and she’d asked me to come with her. She’d told me to wear whatever I wanted, but I didn’t want to stand out any more than I already did in this crowd, so I’d gone with a suit and tie.
The jacket and pants had set me back more than $250. That was before I bought a shirt, tie, and shoes. I’d glared at the salesman as I counted out the bills, though it wasn’t his fault. Hell, the guy probably made less than me.
When Joss turned to me and smiled as we walked through the room, though, it was worth every penny. She was like a ray of sunlight cutting through the dense canopy of a forest. Undeniably radiant.
And in her black V-neck dress and heels, she was also undeniably sexy. I’d run my hand up her thigh while driving here, the feel of her warmth making me achingly hard.
“Joss,” an older guy said as he made his way over to us. “Good to see you.”
“Hi, Dr. Locke.” She shook his hand and then slid her arm around mine, leaning in to me. “This is my date, Carson Stephens.”
The doc shook my hand and introduced us to his wife, Alice. He asked about Joss’s research project, half listening to her and nodding, half glancing at me.
“You’re familiar to me,” he said when she’d finished talking. “Do you have privileges at TMC?”
I lowered my brows in confusion. “Uh . . . no?”
I’d had lots of privileges at the hospital with Joss—on the roof, in stairwells—but I was pretty sure that wasn’t what he was asking.
“Carson does HVAC and electrical maintenance on third shift,” Joss said, looking up at me with a proud smile.
“Oh.” The old doc chuckled. “Sorry, I assumed you were a physician.”
There was an awkward pause before Joss picked up the conversation again.
“Carson can fix absolutely anything. Even things he’s never worked on before. He just has a way of figuring things out that I’ve never seen in anyone.”
Dr. Locke nodded and gave me an appreciative look. “My father was like that. He never paid a repairman or mechanic in his life.”
Another couple approached and started talking to the Lockes. Joss squeezed my arm as she spotted Hattie and we made our way over to her.
“Girl, where’s the booze?” Hattie said to Joss.
“We haven’t found the bar yet.”
“I’ll go find it.” I moved my arm from Joss’s and slid it around her waist. “What sounds good, babe?”
“White wine, please.”
I looked at Hattie. “For you?”
“Same. Thanks, Carson.”
Her date was a tall guy wearing glasses who looked about as out of place as I felt.
“What about you, man?” I asked him.
“Oh, uh . . . a light beer?” He shrugged. “I’ll just come with you.”
We left the women, and he introduced himself as Danny, an attorney who’d met Hattie at the gym a couple of weeks ago.
“You guys come to these things often?” he asked me as he surveyed the room.
“Nope, this is the first one.”
We got to the bar, which had a line. Danny was telling me about the kind of law he practiced, which sounded boring as hell. I was trying to look like I was paying attention, but I wasn’t.
“Well, look who it is,” a voice said from behind me. “It’s the maintenance guy.”
I turned to meet the disdainful gaze of Dean. Fucking douchebag.
“How’s Joss?” he asked smoothly.
“Amazing.”
He just stared at me, his glassy eyes telling me this wasn’t his first trip to the bar tonight. I stared back, daring him to say something to set me off.
Finally, I broke the silence.
“Hey, did you get ever get the banana out of that lady?”
“I can’t discuss cases. Patient confidentiality and all.” He sniffed and looked away. “There are more rules to treating people than there are for screwing in lightbulbs.”
I nodded. “Right. But speaking of screwing, how’s your pregnant girlfriend?”
“She’s fine.” His tone was clipped. “But I don’t see what that was to do with ‘screwing.’”
Danny interjected. “She couldn’t have gotten pregnant without you—”
“Actually,” I said, “I was referring to you screwing Joss over by getting with another woman. Dick move, man. But now she’s with me, so all’s well that ends well, right?”
“Who said it’s the end?”
The challenge in his tone made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. This was the way I used to feel heading into combat. Fired up and strangely calm all at once.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I demanded.
He shrugged.
“Hey, man.” Danny nudged my side. “We’re up.”
I turned to the bar, ordered two white wines and a beer, and told Danny to get what he wanted.
“Thirty-two,” the bartender said to me.
I took out my wallet and handed him forty bucks, then turned to Dean.
“Stay the hell away from her,” I said.
“What happens between me and Joss is none of your business. You’re just her fuck buddy. Keeping her bed warm.”
My single note of laughter was unamused. “And you’re her ex-husband. No longer welcome in her bed. So have a good night, Dean.”
“It’s Dr. Drake to you.”
My laugher was amused this time. “No, Dr. Drake is the woman I get to take home tonight. And she is fucking incredible, man.”
“It doesn’t bother you that she kept my name?”
A muscle in my jaw twitched with aggravation. I knew the asshole was just trying to fuck with me, and I hated that I was letting him.
“She’s with me in every way that matters.”
The bartender cut in, speaking to Dean. “Sir, what can I get you?”
I picked up one of the beers and one of the glasses of wine and turned to leave, deliberately running into Dean as I did.
“Watch it,” he muttered.
“Or what?”
He cleared this throat and looked at the bartender, avoiding my gaze. Chickenshit.
“Come on, man,” Danny said.
We made our way back to the women with the drinks, and Joss gave me a concerned glance as I passed her the glass of wine.
“Did he say something to you?” she asked, her brow creased with worry.
I shrugged. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
Her expression relaxed as she took a sip of her wine. There was something in her eyes I couldn’t place, but it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up the same way Dean had just now.
“Why?” I asked her.
“Why what?” Her eyes met mine.
“Why do you ask if he said something to me?”
Hattie took Danny’s arm and led him away, probably sensing a conflict on the horizon.
“She seems to know why.” I nodded toward Hattie and took a long pull on my beer.
Joss sighed softly and looked away. “Let’s not talk about this here.”
“Talk about what? Is there something going on between you and Dean?”
“No.”
I could tell from her tone, and the way her eyes held mine, that she meant it. My muscles slackened with relief.
“Tell me, babe. I’m not gonna lose my shit, I promise.”
“It’s nothing, really . . . I just ran into him the other night at work, and he told me he asked Amanda to move out and that he wants me back. I told him it’s never happening.”
I hated her tentative expression. She was wondering if I was about to get jealous and pissed off. There was a flare of anger rising inside me but not toward her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked softly, taking her free hand in mine.
She exhaled deeply. “I’m sorry. I should have. I mean, I would have. I guess I was just worried you’d feel threatened, but you shouldn’t. Things with us are so good, I just didn’t want to . . . upset the balance, you know?”
“Yeah, I do. But you can talk to me, okay? Do I really seem like that much of a loose cannon?”
She squeezed my hand. “No. I just didn’t want you to think it was anything, because it wasn’t. The whole thing just made me mad at him and . . . sad for Amanda.”
“What kind of a douchebag does that?” I shook my head. “Kicks his girl out when she’s pregnant with his kid?”
“I know. But Dean only cares about himself.”
“Let’s not talk about that asshole anymore tonight, babe. Let’s try to have a good time.”
She smiled up at me, her eyes filled with warm happiness. I kissed her forehead and whispered, “Next time just tell me, okay?”
“I will. Thanks for understanding.”
We walked over to the tables of stuff up for auction to raise money for the hospital foundation. I kept hold of Joss’s hand as we checked out vouchers for ski trips, gift baskets, and even baked goods.
“Ohhhhh.” Joss’s whole face lit up as she eyed a platter of chocolate chip cookies. “Alan’s wife makes the best cookies. Seriously. Her cookies went for three hundred bucks one year.”
“Must be some damn good cookies,” I said in a low tone.
Dean was right next to us, pretending to look at the auction items, too. It took all my willpower to ignore him. Joss was with me now, and I planned to keep my focus on her.
I wrapped my arm around her waist, though. Just to remind him what was up.
Joss walked a few steps farther, to a display for a five-day trip to Hawaii.
“Ever been?” she asked me.
“Hawaii? Nope. You?”
“No, but I’ve always wanted to go. Maybe I should bid on it.” She smiled up at me. “Would you come with me if I won it?”
“Uh . . .” I cleared my throat. “I don’t know.”
Her expression fell, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have . . . we haven’t even been together that long.”
“It’s not that, babe,” I said softly. “I just don’t want my girl paying for stuff like that.”
She smiled and shook her head. “That’s silly, Carson. You pay for things for me all the time.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, but not trips to Hawaii.”
“Maybe we could just start with a weekend somewhere we can drive to.” She squeezed my hand.
I nodded, but the seed of unease had already been planted. As we walked around, meeting surgeons, hospital administrators, and connected New Orleans business owners, I realized I didn’t belong here.
Not just at this fundraiser, but in this world. Joss was a fucking doctor. She lived in a world where a trip to Hawaii was only a matter of scheduling. I lived in a world where it was something to budget and save for over the course of many months—years, even.
But she was the one getting the short end of the stick in this relationship, not me. And she didn’t care about the differences between us, so why did I?
Because it made me feel like less of a man. I hated that it was true, but it was. I wanted to do and be things for her that I’d never be able to. The nagging feeling I had about it wouldn’t go away, even after three beers and a good dinner.
I laughed and smiled at all the right times, but inside, I was slipping into a dark silence. I didn’t belong here. I’d fallen hard for a woman I’d never be good enough for. Why would she want a moody electrician when she could have her pick of men?
It was all I could do to keep sitting there as Joss and Hattie bantered back and forth about each other. Joss was a bright, beautiful light in the world. Just her smile made my pulse pound. I wanted more than anything to be deserving of her.
Danny had just returned to our table with four shot glasses of whiskey when the auctioneer announced he was opening bids for the platter of chocolate chip cookies.
I decided in a split second I was buying Joss those cookies. I couldn’t buy her a fancy vacation, but I could get her the cookies she loved so much. Three hundred dollars was a lot, but she was worth it.
I downed my shot of whiskey as the cookies got bid up to $200. I jumped in at $250, holding up my number without saying a word.
“Carson?” Joss turned to me, confused.
I gave her a silent wink as the auctioneer accepted a bid for $300 from someone else.
I put my number in the air at $325.
$350.
$400.
$450.
“Carson,” Joss said firmly. “What are you doing?”
“Buying my girl some cookies.”
Her eyes softened as she smiled. “Thank you for wanting to do that, but—”
The auctioneer looked at me as he called out, “Five hundred?”
I nodded.
“Stop.” Joss’s tone was firm.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want the cookies that much. You can’t spend five hundred dollars—or more—on cookies.”
My jaw tightened with tension. “What, because I’m just a maintenance guy? I must be broke, is that it?”
She pulled back a little at my edgy tone. “No.”
The auctioneer gave me a questioning look. “Seven fifty?”
Hell. Now I was in over my head. Without even thinking about it, I nodded.
“Stop this,” Joss whispered, her tone urgent and aggravated. “I won’t even enjoy the cookies for this kind of money. Just stop.”
The auctioneer called out, “Whoa! This generous fella is offering one thousand dollars for those cookies now.” He turned to me. “How strong’s your sweet tooth, son?”
I exhaled through my nose and shook my head, setting my auction number down on the table.
“Thank goodness,” Joss said, sighing.
“Sold to . . . Dr. Dean Drake,” the auctioneer called out, leading a round of applause.
I turned toward the table everyone was smiling at, where Dean was giving me a smug smile.
That motherfucker. He’d bought those cookies just to show me up. I wanted to get up and storm over to his table. That grin of his would be gone before I even got there.
“More shots?” Hattie asked, probably trying to break the uncomfortable silence at our table.
Joss and I didn’t even look at each other as the auctioneer sold a spa trip and an Apple watch. Then he got to the Hawaii trip, and I felt Joss tense beside me.
Surely she wasn’t planning to bid on it.
She didn’t, but Dean did. He went back and forth with some other doctor on the bidding until he’d paid seven grand for it. And the look he gave me afterward wasn’t smug, but sure.
He was planning on taking Joss to Hawaii. Un-fucking-believable.
“Do you want to go?” Joss asked softly.
When I turned to her, she looked almost sick. I should have felt terrible about it. I should have kissed her, gotten her another glass of wine, and let her know everything was good between us.
I couldn’t, though. I’d just been emasculated by her dickhead ex-husband. I was too pissed off to think about anything but how much I hated that asshole.
I nodded, and we both got up to go. This time, she didn’t put her arm in mine or look up at me with that million-dollar smile.
Instead, she wrapped her arms around herself and looked at anything but me as we walked out of the ballroom and out to my truck.
She didn’t care that Dean had bought the cookies and the trip to Hawaii, and she didn’t want to go with him. I knew that. Hell, he knew it, too.
I cared, though. Dean had just reminded me, her, and everyone else in that room that there were things he could do for Joss that I’d never be able to.
I drove Joss home in silence, watching from the driver’s seat to make sure she got in her place okay, and then I left. I hated the heavy tension between us and the hurt in her eyes when she looked back at me before stepping inside, but there was nothing I could do to fix it.
Nightmares or no, I wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight.