Flirting with Forever

by Jennifer Bernard

  What would he have to do to get her to stop complimenting Tristan? And why was he being like this? He wasn’t used to this strangely possessive feeling. He didn’t understand it and he didn’t like it.

  “Are you okay?” Chrissie asked. “You look a little pale.”

  “I’m fine. I’ve been working a lot. Worried about Bo.”

  She put a sympathetic hand over his, and all thoughts of the big fisherman vanished. All he could think about was the vivid blue of her eyes and the warmth of her touch. “I hear that. I’ve been working extra shifts too. I’ve been up and down in that helo like some kind of jack-in-the-box.”

  “I haven’t seen you at the hospital.” And he’d looked. Every time he stepped into the ER he scanned the place for a graceful figure with a dark brown ponytail.

  “I haven’t seen you either. I guess our paths just haven’t crossed yet.”

  So she’d been looking for him too? Hope rose in his heart.

  “I don’t suppose you’ve had a chance to look at my grandfather’s journal, yet, have you?”

  Oh. That was why she’d been looking for him. Of course. That made sense. Much more so than the idea that she’d been hoping to see her flirt student.

  “Not yet.”

  She sipped her beer, which left a line of foam on her upper lip. She licked it away. “About Bo…he’ll be fine. He’s such a great kid. That’s why I thought of him when I heard Tristan’s deckhand ditched on him.”

  He couldn’t help contrasting Helene’s disapproval of Bo with Chrissie’s unquestioning acceptance. And then, all thoughts of Helene evaporated when he noticed she still had a fleck of foam clinging to her lip. He leaned forward with the absurd impulse to lick it away.

  Her gaze flew up to his. “What’s the matter?”

  He was staring at her too intensely. Damn it. “Sorry, it’s just—” He indicated the foam above her lip.

  She swiped at it with her quick tongue. He gripped his hands on the seat of his chair. His cock went hard as granite. Damn it again. He didn’t want to be drawn to this whimsical woman, with her difficult history and her lack of seriousness. Damn damn damn.

  Giving up on her tongue, she found a bar napkin and blotted away the foam. He wrenched his gaze away and fixed it on the candle flickering in its little smoked-glass globe.

  “The way you were looking at me—” Chrissie began.

  He interrupted her. “I apologize. I’ve been told I have a touch of OCD when it comes to little things like that.”

  “No need to apologize. What I mean to say is, it was good.”

  “What was good?” He looked back at her and found her leaning even closer, a warm smile dimpling her face.

  “That look you gave me. It was…smoldering. Very hot. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

  Talk about smoldering. Her words touched off something inside him. He wanted to stand up and roar, to snatch her into his arms, to prove to her that he could be better than Tristan, better than anyone she’d ever been with.

  That’s childish, he scolded himself. He was a respected and successful neurosurgeon. Where was this animal need to assert himself coming from?

  “There’s a lot in me that you don’t know about.” His low voice came out almost as a growl.

  Her pupils darkened and her lips parted. Classic signs of arousal. His throat tightened.

  “Maybe we should change that,” she purred.

  “If you keep looking at me like that, maybe we will.”

  “How am I looking at you, handsome?”

  Like you want me. Like you want to kiss me. Like you want to fuck me.

  And where had that come from? He didn’t usually refer to sex as fucking. But it came to his mind like that, as if he always talked that way.

  “You’re looking at me as if you’re…” A thought struck him—what if he was getting carried away over nothing? “As if you’re flirting with me. Are we in a lesson right now? A surprise flirting drill?”

  The energy between them shifted and her smile changed, became more artificial, for lack of a better word. “Pop quiz. You got it.”

  He felt like a fool. He sat back, creating more space between them. “How did I do?”

  “You did very well. Honestly, you had me almost completely fooled.”

  “What was the almost? How can I improve?”

  She tugged her lower lip between her teeth, then released it. “Nothing. You had me going, full stop. That smoldering expression is a lethal weapon. I swear, the women in Lost Harbor are going to come after me with pitchforks for encouraging you like this. You’re going to break hearts right and left.”

  “I don’t want to break hearts. All I want is one woman.”

  “Which makes you all the more sexy. All I can say is that Helene is a very lucky woman.” She glanced at her phone. “I need to go. I can give you directions to Desperado’s berth if you’d like to join Bo and Tristan.”

  “I’ll see it another time.” Truth to tell, he didn’t dare get to his feet yet. His erection hadn’t subsided at all; in fact, it strained at the front of his trousers so hard he knew it would be impossible to miss.

  She pushed back her chair and got to her feet. “See you around, handsome.”

  “Wait.” He didn’t want her to leave yet. “When’s our next lesson?”

  “Do you really think you need more flirting lessons? I think you’re in good shape. A minute ago you could have had me stretched out on a bed begging for you.”

  He didn’t respond to that because he physically couldn’t get his mouth to move. After a long moment in which they simply stared at each other, the air between them dense with electricity, she shrugged.

  “Have it your way. More flirt lessons to come. But you’ll have to practice on someone else so I don’t get all hot and bothered.” With a quick wink, she disappeared into the crowd.

  Eighteen

  “Mediguard Two, on approach. All clear?” Chrissie maneuvered the Bell 206 into position for its descent onto the roof of the Misty Bay Regional Hospital. Hovering high over the landing pad, she slowly decreased power to the engine.

  “Roger, Mediguard Two. Your next patient is being prepped. She’ll be ready for transport in half an hour.”

  Chrissie peered down through the wispy layer of fog between the helicopter and the rooftop. “Enough time for a bathroom break, then.”

  “Oh yes. But keep your pager on.”

  “Of course.” She glanced over at her copilot, Dan Stone. Technically, he had seniority because he’d been working for the company for three years now. But he’d recently been injured in an attack, and was grateful to let her take the controls. He was a good-looking guy, and she’d always had a weakness for pilots. One of the frustrating things about working down in Jupiter Point was that all the Knight brothers—the company owners—were already in love.

  But for some reason, she hadn’t felt inspired to flirt with Dan Stone at all. Maybe her flirting muscles were overworked by her time with Ian.

  “Do you want to fly the next run?” she offered. “I can step back if you want.”

  “Maybe. Let me get some coffee in me and see how I feel.”

  “Sounds good.” She fixed her gaze on a spot midway between the horizon and the ground ahead. Ohlson had taught her that technique, which allowed the maximum degree of spatial awareness.

  As she lowered the collective, the helicopter sank through the fog layer toward the roof.

  “Smooth,” Dan Stone noted.

  She murmured her acknowledgement, but didn’t allow her attention to stray from the delicate landing process. The hospital’s location—high on a hilltop at the edge of town—meant that medivac pilots almost always faced unpredictable air currents.

  Then again—her entire life had been a series of unpredictable air currents.

  One skid touched down. She kept the helicopter balanced there for a moment, resisting the urge to hurry to ground. Patiently, she lowered the collective in a controlled way, compe
nsating for drift, that got more skid on the ground and settled the helicopter precisely where she wanted it.

  Dan whistled. “Helluva job. You should consider sticking around.”

  She cut the power to the engine. “Well, thanks, but who says I’m not?”

  “People are saying you won’t be here long.”

  “You should know better than to listen to what people are saying in Lost Harbor.” She took off her ear protection and shook out her hair. There was no need for the usual shutdown procedure, since they had another run soon.

  “Yeah, you have a point there. I heard someone say I was attacked by one of the lost natives of Lost Souls Wilderness.”

  “The ones who disappeared into the glacier a hundred years ago?” That was one of her very favorite Lost Harbor legends.

  “That’s right. I almost wish it was true, but the real story’s pretty wild itself. Want to hear it over dinner later?”

  She smiled at him politely and pushed down on the door handle. “Sorry, I’ve just got too much going on right now for any kind of social life.”

  “Understood.”

  She had to respect a guy who respected a “no.”

  “Does that mean you’re not dating Finnegan? I’m not asking for me,” he explained quickly. “There’s a woman or two who has asked if Dr. Finnegan is off the market.”

  She hopped out of the helicopter. Even though she had long legs, it was a drop and it took a moment to recover. Or maybe she was recovering from the idea that there were rumors about her and Ian.

  “If there’s a woman interested in Dr. Finnegan, don’t let me stop her. Wait. Is it Colleen, the ultrasound tech? If it’s her, tell her Ian’s unavailable.”

  Under his helmet, Dan’s eyebrows rose. “It’s not her.”

  Crap. She couldn’t possibly guess all the women who might be hot for Ian. That could take a while, and she really had to pee.

  Besides, Ian’s love life was his business. If he wanted to go out with Colleen—the ultrasound tech with the bitchy comments and backstabbing ways—he could. Just because she was teaching him to flirt didn’t mean she had anything to do with his choices.

  Face it, she was still recovering from the other night at the Olde Salt. She’d tossed and turned for hours that night, unable to escape the memory of the intensity in his eyes. What the hell?

  She’d assumed that his cluelessness extended to the bedroom. But that look? That look had suggested the exact opposite. It hinted at someone with singleminded focus and deeply banked fires. Someone who had the ability to turn a woman all kinds of inside out.

  Even thinking about it now made her breath hitch.

  She hurried across the roof to the heavy utility door that led into the hospital. The fog kissed her cheeks and left chilly droplets on her skin. Maybe she’d have time for a quick hot chocolate before they lifted off again.

  Maybe she’d run into Ian while she was getting that hot chocolate.

  Inside the hospital, she skipped down the stairs, her footfalls echoing in the empty stairwell. She hadn’t seen Ian in several days, and she was itching for another encounter with him. Just to tease him, of course. And to teach him. No other reason.

  She flew through the door from the utility stairs onto the main floor, and dashed into the bathroom. As she took care of business, she wrestled her wayward thoughts back to reality.

  Ian was just a friend. Not even a friend, really. An acquaintance. Okay, so he’d done her a huge service by accompanying her out to Yatesville and being extra super kind to her when she had a meltdown. But that meant nothing. They had nothing in common, she and Ian. He was OCD, she was prone to chaos. He’d had a more or less normal childhood, while she’d grown up weird. He was focused and successful, while she could never quite get it together.

  But didn’t she want to be more like him?

  That thought took her by surprise. She admired Ian, after all. Even though she teased him about his seriousness, she also respected it. Not only that, she enjoyed being with him. The time always flew by so fast, she barely realized it.

  Speaking of which… she checked her watch as she washed her hands. She always wore a watch when she was on shift, because she couldn’t always reach for her phone to check the time. She had twenty more minutes.

  She could either call Toni to check on Shuri, or she could go in search of hot chocolate and a potential Ian sighting.

  The decision was taken out of her hands by the buzzing of her phone.

  “Hi Toni. I was just about to call you.”

  “Listen, hon. You know I love having you around. But we need to talk about this situation. My place is literally four hundred square feet, as opposed to…how many acres do you have out there?”

  “A hundred and fifty-six.” She left the bathroom and headed toward the cafeteria. “I know it’s a tight squeeze at your place, especially with Shuri there all day when I’m working.”

  “She keeps pushing her food bowl off the porch. I have a permanent Greek chorus of seagulls waiting for the next spillage.”

  “Shuri’s a little clumsy. She has trouble judging distances.”

  “Maybe she just needs more space. Like maybe a hundred and fifty-six acres.“

  “Okay. Okay. I know. I’ll figure something out.”

  “No rush, mind you. Just something to think about. I mean, you have a house out there! And a lighthouse. And a guesthouse and a greenhouse and a—“

  “Stop sounding like Dr. Seuss. I hear you. I’ll—” She slammed into someone, and looked up to see none other than Dr. Ian Finnegan, his horn-rimmed glasses knocked off-kilter by their collision. “Gotta go. Medical emergency.”

  “Oh no, I’m fine,” Ian said quickly. One hand held a clipboard, the other settled on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, it’s just…” She drew in a breath. He looked good. Damn good. He also looked worried about her. He wasn’t even fixing his glasses because he was tending to her first.

  She reached up to adjust his glasses for him, but he was in the midst of transferring his clipboard from one hand to the other, and managed to bonk her on the head at the same moment she pushed his glasses. “Ow,” she said as her hand jerked. The unfortunate timing meant that instead of putting his glasses to rights, she knocked them all the way off his face.

  “Shit,” she exclaimed. “I’m so sorry!”

  He dove to grab for them, but they landed on the floor with an audible clunk. How heavy were those glasses? His clipboard went next, slithering from his grip as he focused on the glasses. It too clattered onto the floor.

  “Let me help,” she began, but he held up a hand to stop her.

  “Please, there’s no need.”

  She took a step back, feeling foolish. A sound came from her phone. Damn. She’d never ended the call with Toni. Wincing, she brought her phone to her ear.

  Toni was laughing so hard she could hardly get a word out. “What did I just hear?” she gasped. “Was that the handsome Dr. Finnegan?”

  “You shouldn’t eavesdrop. I’m hanging up now.”

  “I know there’s something going on between you.”

  “I told you already what’s going on.”

  “Yeah well, you didn’t tell the whole story. What I just heard was a throwback to teenage Chrissie, the one who always lost her cool around a boy she liked.”

  “Hanging up now.”

  “You can hang up, but you can’t hide.”

  She hung up and shoved her phone into the pocket of her flight suit. Ian finally had his glasses back in the proper place, and his clipboard under his arm, and was putting himself to rights.

  “I’m really sorry about that, Ian. Chaotic Chrissie strikes again. Are your glasses okay?”

  “They’re fine. You?”

  “I’m fine. Embarrassed, but fine. I was on my way to get a hot chocolate, can I make it up to you with a hot beverage that I promise not to spill on you?”

  “I’m on my way to a consult, but maybe later?”<
br />
  “I only have another,” she checked her watch, “ten minutes.” She stepped aside to allow him to pass. “I don’t want to hold you up any more than I already have.”

  “No, it’s…you didn’t…I’m glad I…” The words seemed to bunch in his mouth, and he shook his head in frustration. “I’ve been hoping I’d…you’d…”

  She saw in a flash that he was affected by her presence. Stammering like a teenager.

  A sense of joy seized her—and freedom, as if bright wings were lifting her out of gravity. Without a second of forethought, she rose onto her tiptoes and kissed Ian on the mouth. His lips were warm and firm and fresh.

  For a micro-moment, it seemed he wasn’t going to respond. Too surprised? Unwilling? Uninterested? Various scenarios flashed through her brain, then evaporated as he returned her kiss—and then some.

  Ian might be awkward in some areas, but when it came to kissing he didn’t hesitate. He kissed her as if nothing else existed, as if there were no nurses hurrying past, no hospital walls around them. They could be floating above the roof, alone in their own private helicopter, for all the notice he took of the snickering orderly pushing a gurney past them.

  He took his time, slow and focused, shaping his lips to hers, sweeping his tongue across the seam between her lips. Sweet sensations danced through her system; her nipples tingled and her inner thighs clenched.

  The endless kiss sparked even more imaginings. What would it feel like to be in bed with this man with all his single-minded focus? What if he turned all that brainpower on her and her sexual desires? Her heart raced and she felt faint. Like some kind of swooning Regency heroine, she clung to his upper arms. His muscles bunched, giving her a vision of his naked body crushed against hers.

  Damn it.

  This was such a bad idea. What was wrong with her? Why did she always have to make a mess of everything? What had she unleashed in one careless moment?

  She had to stop this, immediately.

  She wrenched herself away with a gasp. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”