Irresistible: A Salvation Society Novel

by R. C. Stephens

  Sutton catches me watching her and I turn away. The kid smiles to himself like he’s happy he caught me. I wonder how much he knows about her. If I want to know more, I’ll need to ask her more questions. Problem is I don’t know if she will be interested in sharing answers with me.

  The movie ends and Avery lets out a big yawn, stretching on her chair like a cat. Her body curves deliciously, pressing out her chest.

  “Well, I’m beat. I’ll head back to my room,” Sutton says. I wonder if the kid is a mind reader too.

  “I can walk you back,” Avery offers.

  “I’m good. The movie was cute. Thanks for coming in,” he says. I wonder how he is getting himself into bed with only use of his arms. My heart aches for him—for all the special forces that serve our country and get hurt in the line of duty.

  “I’m glad I did,” Avery says. “You have yourself a good night. I’ll see you in the gym tomorrow.”

  “Have a good night. See you tomorrow. And you too, Bennett. Have a good night.” He winks at me.

  “You too, Sutton,” I say with a smile. The kid is pretty cool.

  He leaves.

  “I can take you back to your room now,” Avery says, standing and stretching again. She makes me want to do anything she tells me to do . . .

  “Thanks.” I want to say more but I don’t know what.

  She wheels me back to my room and locks the wheels on my bed. “You have a good night.”

  I reach out and place my hand on her arm. “Will you stay a little longer?”

  She looks back to the door and then to me. “You want me to stay?” she asks, raising her brows.

  “Yes.”

  Chapter Nine

  Avery

  His touch does something to my insides. Everything I have been feeling is real. I want this man. This beautiful, broken man with his wild hair and beard and kind eyes.

  I should leave. I shouldn’t stay. Being his therapist at this point is wrong. I’ve developed feelings for him. I don’t even know how it’s possible yet something is happening. When I’m not with him I am thinking about him and when I am with him my heart flutters. Staying is wrong. His touch causes a trail to blaze from my arm down to my core and it feels so very right that I can’t resist.

  “Okay. I can stay for a bit,” I agree, moving out of his grasp because I can’t seem to think straight when he’s touching me. I pull up a chair by his bed and take a seat. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing, I just like your company. When you come around something inside me eases. When I’m alone with these walls, my mind is constantly thinking what I will do with myself, or I focus on the pain and just spiral out on this self-loathing path that feels like a one-way street to hell. But with you here, it eases. It all just melts away,” he says somberly.

  His words surprise and soothe me. It doesn’t mean he feels the way I do. I’m attracted to him but he just views me as his healer. I think.

  He chuckles. “I’ve scared you silent, haven’t I?”

  “No.” I sit up straight and lean forward. “You haven’t. I’m glad I can make you feel better. That is my job. The therapy should at least take the edge off—”

  He shakes his head. “Not the therapy. You, Avery. You take the edge off.”

  My breath hitches. “Me?”

  “You’re so kind and caring. You’re beautiful, and I know I’m way out of line. I’m not thinking straight, and I can’t blame the pain meds because I think they have me on Advil’s now.” He laughs.

  I laugh too. “I-I’m your therapist. I-I c-can’t.” I shake my head, unable to get the words out.

  “Tell me that you feel something too. That I haven’t gone and lost my mind. There is something here between us, right?” His dark eyes bore into me and something inside my heart cracks and then this overwhelming feeling washes over me like molten lava erupting inside me warming me from the inside out.

  I nod and swallow hard. I can’t fight this feeling. It’s too much. Feels too good. I’m not thinking about my job or what this could mean; I’m suddenly embracing the moment, like Jude Law and Cameron Diaz did in The Holiday. There was a reason I didn’t usually watch romance—because I didn’t want to be reminded of what this feeling was or that it even existed. Yet tonight I wanted that feeling because of Bennett.

  “Say something. You’re killing me here,” he says.

  “There is something. I don’t know what,” I begin to say. He reaches his hand out to me and winces. I stand from the chair and take his hand. He pulls me gently toward him, his gaze never leaving mine. If I don’t want this there is plenty of time to pull away. His lips are full and so darn kissable, and as I approach them my heart beats fast and steady. Our lips touch and my eyes close and fireworks erupt in my chest.

  His lips are warm and soft, and as we deepen the kiss the spark between us ignites a heat down in my core. He knows how to kiss; his lips scorch mine as they move. His tongue peeks out and mine comes to mingle with his. Sparks fly between our bodies. The electricity between us is alive and magnetic. I want to put my hands in his hair and touch his beard but then I remember where I am and my eyes open. He must sense my hesitation because his eyes open too.

  “Wow,” he says.

  His reaction makes me smile.

  “I shouldn’t have done that.” I pull my hand away from his grasp. Anyone could have walked in. Nurse Monica would probably be all too happy to report me to human resources.

  “Yes, you should have. I like you. We are two adults,” he says.

  “This is my job on the line. I can’t lose it. I have a kid. It was irresponsible of me,” I say.

  “I won’t tell anyone. I can promise you that,” he says, and those thick lips of his curl into a sexy smile.

  It’s contagious and warm, and I smile too. “My lips must look swollen,” I say, touching them.

  “Your lips look like you’ve been kissed well,” he says playfully.

  I feel light and airy—happy. When have I felt this way? Never.

  “Thank you for coming in tonight and making me watch that awful movie,” he says, grinning.

  “It was a cute movie and you’re welcome,” I say, and I’m pretty sure my voice sounds flirty. Where on earth did flirty Avery come from?

  “You have yourself a good night,” he says with a nod. For some reason, I picture him standing tall in his fatigues and smiling at me with a curt nod. This man is too hot.

  “You too, Bennett,” I say, knowing full well I have a smile plastered from cheek to cheek across my face. I turn out of the room, knowing I need to stop smiling and fast. As I am leaving, I see Monica. She gives me a once-over. Shit! Can she tell what we were doing? “Have a good night,” I say to her.

  “You too,” she eyes me warily then looks down at her chart.

  I can’t get out to my car fast enough. When I do, I crank up the heat and my palms come up to my cheeks. I smile wide and laugh giddily. This is bad. Really bad.

  Chapter Ten

  Bennett

  There’s a knock on my door. I look at the clock; it’s ten a.m. Fuck, she sent a transporter again. “Come in,” I say.

  It’s been a week since I had the movie night with Avery and Sutton. A week since my lips touched hers and she rocked my world to its core.

  “Hello, sir,” the transporter says. “I’m here to take you to your physical therapy session.”

  Fucking great. I want her but she’s sent him again. She hasn’t said anything about the kiss. She’s kept conversation with me to a minimum outside of what’s necessary for therapy. It’s driving me crazy. This isn’t me. I don’t pine for a woman’s attention.

  The transporter helps me into a wheelchair since I am able to sit upright now. He pushes me out of my room and down the hallway.

  “Hey Bennett,” Sutton says, wheeling past me.

  “Hey man,” I say, because it’s not like the transporter has time to sit around and let me chat. “Catch you later.”

  He nod
s and waves. When I first met the kid, I pitied him. Felt sorry for him and the way he will have to live his life. Now I think he’s got bigger balls than anyone I’ve ever met.

  The transporter and I head into the elevator and I get wheeled into the gym area. Avery is waiting for me holding a clipboard.

  “Hello, Mr. Sheridan.” She looks at me and gives me a professional smile. It’s not what I want to see. I want the warmth in her smile like she gave me the night we kissed.

  “Ms. Malone.” I nod.

  “See you tomorrow, Mr. Sheridan.” The transporter says politely before taking off.

  “How are you feeling this morning?” Avery asks, sounding too professional.

  “Like crap,” I scoff. “I’m still not sleeping well. Staying in one spot is making me crazy.”

  “Okay. Let’s head over to the bed. I’d like to check your knee. How is it feeling?” she asks.

  “Not great either,” I say.

  She wheels me over to a bed and then closes the curtain around us. The minute the curtain is closed, I can’t take it anymore, I whisper, “Did that kiss mean nothing to you? Because it meant a whole lot to me.”

  Her eyes, which are more of a cognac-caramel color than brown, turn wide. “Bennett, please keep your voice down. If anyone hears us, I could get fired.” She sounds terrified and that isn’t my intention.

  “I’m sorry. Will you at least stop avoiding me? Can you take me back to my room instead of the transporter?” I ask, unable to hide the hope I feel from my tone.

  “We have protocol. I’ll stop by your room later to see how the treatment went,” she says. Her words ease something inside my chest. I shouldn’t be pursuing a woman like her, not when I have nothing to offer, but hell, I’m not thinking straight when it comes to her.

  She gives me ultrasound treatment and checks my knee. She gets me to do some strengthening exercises. I like this part of the treatment because it means I have her close to me. The heady scent of lavender and vanilla fills my nostrils.

  “I want to take you over to the bars now. They are used to help you stand up. Are you okay with that?” she asks.

  “I don’t know. Small movements hurt,” I answer.

  “The pain is from the inflammation. The movement will be good for you. We can take it slow. It’s just that we need to get you walking with a walker. Kind of like baby steps,” she says.

  “I’m back to being a baby?” I push out my lower lip for effect.

  Avery frowns. “You’re not. Your body has been through a trauma. You need to let it heal properly but you also have to build up strength again. You’re a hero, Bennett, to this country and to our people. SEALs take care of some of the most dangerous tasks and ensure our safety overseas so we can be free to walk the streets here at home. That’s a pretty big deal. You should feel proud.”

  “And how many guys have you given that speech to?” I chuckle.

  She smiles and shakes her head. “Too many, but that is because they laid their life on the line for us. It’s something that can’t be overlooked. Not many men or women would do such a thing. Be proud of what you did. Don’t let the negative feelings suck you under,” she says. Her words resonate inside me. Not many men would lay their life on the line to keep America safe, but I had no one when I joined the navy. They gave me a purpose. They trained me to defend and protect. Now what?

  My gaze returns to her and I see her eyes are watery. “What is it?” I ask.

  She shakes her head and the tears welling in her eyes don’t fall.

  “Please, whatever it is,” I say.

  “Not here, Bennett. Please,” she practically begs, and I let it go. If she lost her job ’cause of me, I’d feel worse than terrible.

  She takes me over to the bars, but first she passes me some arm weights and guides me through some very slow exercises. “These have to be done slowly. You need to activate the muscle, but you also don’t want to pull something in your back.”

  “Okay.” I do what she says.

  After the weights, she shows me how she wants me to lean on the bars and use my upper-body strength to stand.

  “You may only be able to take a few steps at first and that’s okay,” she says.

  I slowly lean forward using the bars as support.

  Avery stands close beside me. “Good. You’re doing good.”

  “I’m holding my breath,” I admit. I’m scared of the spasming pain.

  “Breathe. Slow breaths,” she says with her soothing voice. She takes slow breaths to show me and I follow. Before I know it, I’m upright. “That’s great. You’re doing really good. Now, if you can slowly move one foot in front of the other,” she says.

  “I can’t believe I have to learn how to walk again but I guess there will be a lot of things that I’ll have to learn from scratch. Like how to live my life outside the navy,” I say.

  “You’d be surprised at all the opportunities that are available out there for a guy with your skill set. I’m thinking you’re going to be just fine, Bennett Sheridan,” she sing-songs my name the way she did that first day she came into my room.

  “I hope you’re right,” I say. “I really do,”

  Chapter Eleven

  Avery

  After I finished my shift, I went up to say hello to Sutton and saw that Monica was on shift tonight. I don’t know why but I want to avoid her like the plague. Something about the way she watches me doesn’t feel right and her friendliness feels insincere.

  I want to check in on Bennett like I told him I would but something about Monica’s presence screams trouble and I don’t need any. Instead, I head home and go through my usual nightly routine. Aunt Bee is in the kitchen, looking inside the fridge when I arrive.

  “Oh, hello there, Avery. Jess is up in her room studying. Such a fine girl she is,” she says, and I hate to think it, but the woman reminds me of Cruella.

  “Thank you.”

  “I was thinking we could have some grilled salmon for dinner tonight. We haven’t had fish in a while, and you know it’s good for Uncle Jim’s heart condition,” she says, as if she didn’t see the ground chicken breast defrosting in the sink.

  Jessy likes the burgers I make. They are healthy and low in fat, so I’m still being considerate of Uncle Jim’s condition—but Jessy hates salmon.

  “I’ll go out and grab some.” I force a smile.

  “That’s so nice of you, dear,” she says, even though she knows I don’t say no to her. That I will do pretty much anything to keep the peace around here.

  “Of course, Aunt Bee,” I say, my tone even and kind. A part of me wants to scream out that it isn’t okay, that she should appreciate my efforts around here, but she’s given me and my daughter a roof over our heads. I don’t want to seem ungrateful.

  I head up to Jess’s room. “Hey there. I need to run out to get Aunt Bee something from the supermarket. Do you want anything special?”

  “No. Aunt Bee is such a pest. I was hoping we could do some driving practice tonight,” she says quietly.

  “Sorry, sweetie.” Now I feel bad. “I’ll see you soon,” I say as guilt eats away at me. I need to spend time with my daughter, not wait on Aunt Bee and freakin’ Uncle Jim.

  “I’m planning to go to Rory’s house anyway,” she says her tone laced with disappointment.

  “And will Dylan be there?” I ask.

  “Yes, Mom,” she says, fighting a smile. Her cheeks also flush. My girl has it bad.

  “Okay, well can we at least have dinner together? I was going to make those chicken burgers you like.”

  “Yeah.” She nods like it sounds good to her.

  “See you soon,” I say.

  I head downstairs, grab my jacket and keys, and slip on my runners, then head out the door. The last place I feel like going right now is the supermarket. I usually like to get my weekly shopping done early Saturday morning when everyone’s asleep. Now, the place will be packed.

  When I arrive at the supermarket it is just a
s I predicted. Needing to weave around shopping carts stresses me out because I know I have to get home to spend time with Jessy before she leaves. The check-out line turns out to be a nightmare too and by the time I’m driving home, I get a text from Jess saying it’s getting late and Rory’s mom invited her to eat there. I feel like I am losing all around. Between missing time with Jess and giving in to Aunt Bee’s ridiculous requests, I’m at the end of my rope.

  I stop the car off to the side of the road and tell Jess to enjoy herself and head on over to Rory’s now, since she said Dylan offered her a ride and I prefer that over her walking alone when it’s dark outside. I make a note about talking to Jess about us moving out. I’ve wanted to buy my own house for some time now, and I finally feel like financially and emotionally that time has come.

  When I get back home, Aunt Bee and Uncle Jim are watching television in the family room.

  “Good you’re back. I hear you’re making salmon,” Uncle Jim says happily.

  “I am.” I force a smile.

  “Will you make that mango salsa that I like so much?” he asks.

  “Sure, Uncle Jim,” I say. Knowing that request would arise, I’d picked up some mango and cilantro while at the supermarket.

  I get to work making dinner. While I prepare the salmon, I make the burgers too, figuring I can take one with me to-go. There’s no way I am sitting to eat dinner with those two. I don’t want to feel like I’m choking on my food.

  I set up the table for them and use one of the ready-toss salads I picked up, and set it on the table with a balsamic vinaigrette. I call them to the table and they both have pleased expressions on their faces.

  “Won’t you be joining us, Avery?” Aunt Bee asks.

  “I’m going to head into the hospital,” I say. “You enjoy.”

  “That means more for us.” She giggles, looking at Uncle Jim.