The Jinx: A Romantic Medical Comedy (Heartthrob Hospital Book 2)

by Lori Wilde

  Jack rolled up his left sleeve. “Upper arm.”

  “Have a seat in the chair.”

  The tattoo artist gestured toward what looked like a massage chair situated behind the front desk. Swallowing hard, Jack sat.

  The tattoo artist plunked down on a four-legged stool, unwrapped a packet of tattoo supplies, and spread them out on a rolling tray. He then flicked on a bright gooseneck lamp and focused it on Jack’s upper arm.

  “Do you sterilize your equipment?” Jack eyed the needles suspiciously.

  “Got my own autoclave, dude.”

  “Good to know.” Jack raised his eyebrows.

  “Can I watch?” CeeCee asked.

  “Sure, pull up a chair,” he offered magnanimously.

  CeeCee complied, arranging herself close enough to observe but out of the tattoo artist’s light.

  “You ready?” he asked Jack.

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  The Big Lebowski wannabe turned on the power. His tattoo gun made a buzzing noise.

  Cringing, Jack closed his eyes and prayed the electricity would go out or that the guy’s tattooing apparatus would short circuit or a spur of the moment hurricane would kick up and blow in across the island to topple the tattoo hut.

  He braced himself for the pain.

  But it never came.

  “Mick!” A woman’s voice broke the silence.

  Jack’s eyes opened to see a very pregnant woman standing in the room, her eyes fixed on the tattoo artist.

  “Can’t you see I’m busy, Carrie?”

  “I’m having contractions, and they’re only two minutes apart. You gotta take me to the hospital right now.”

  Mick turned pale. “Okay, okay, honey.” He looked at Jack. “Sorry, dude, my old lady’s in labor, the ink’ll have to wait.”

  Jack blew out a sigh of relief. Sometimes prayers really were answered. “No sweat.”

  Carrie hollered and sank to the floor.

  Oh, no!

  Mick and Jack jumped up simultaneously and rushed to her side. Her face contorted with pain, and she clutched her abdomen.

  “How many pregnancies have you had?” Jack asked, automatically slipping into doctor mode without thinking twice.

  “This is my third. Oh gosh, I don’t think I’m going to make it to the hospital.”

  “I’ll call 911.” CeeCee sprang to the desk.

  You can’t act like a doctor; you’ll give yourself away, the voice that had kept him cautiously assuming Zack’s identity for three weeks protested.

  Forget that nonsense. Jack had no choice. He was a doctor, and he had to help this woman. If he blew his charade, then he blew his charade. Under no circumstances would he risk a patient’s well-being.

  “Have you ever done Lamaze?” he asked Carrie.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Great, then start practice your breathing.”

  She obeyed him, breathing in short panting he-he-he-he’s.

  He calmed her, and CeeCee joined them on the floor. She checked the mother’s pulse while Jack slipped a pillow under her head and spoke soothingly.

  Mick paced the tattoo parlor. Carrie had another contraction and screamed loud enough to raise the roof off the building.

  Luckily, the ambulance arrived before Jack ended up having to deliver the baby, and it whisked the woman away. Mick went into the back of the shop where they apparently lived, gathered up his two older children, and followed in the family car.

  As a favor to Mick and Carrie, CeeCee and Jack locked up the shop for them and slipped the key under the door when they were finished.

  “Wow.” CeeCee turned to him.

  “Some night, huh?”

  She reached out and took his hand. “Let’s walk.”

  They meandered in silence for a while, CeeCee’s shoes striking a lazy rhythm against the cement. Jack was dying to know what was going on inside her head. He angled her a couple of surreptitious glances, but he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

  “You were great with that mom,” CeeCee said at last.

  “Thanks.”

  “You were so calm.”

  He shrugged casually, but inside he was quaking. Had she figured out he wasn’t Zack?

  “I mean I’m a physical therapist and even I was flustered.”

  “You don’t see a woman go into labor every day.”

  “Neither do you.”

  “True.”

  “You were as cool and calm and collected as your brother.”

  “I guess I must have picked up a few tips from Jack. Plus, I’ve taken first-aid classes. It’s important to know first aid and CPR in my line of work.”

  “You’re a multifaceted guy. Much deeper than Jack led me to believe.”

  She didn’t know the half of it.

  “We didn’t get our tattoos,” she went on, “but we did have some excitement.”

  “Yes. But we’re not done yet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He would show her he could be spontaneous, and it didn’t require getting a tattoo or assisting a pregnant woman in labor. Without another word, he leaned over, scooped her into his arms, and carried her down the seawall.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You want spontaneous. I deliver.”

  “But your knee,” she protested.

  “It’s fine. I’ve been healed by the best.”

  He stalked toward the horse-drawn carriage stand, zigzagging through a throng of curious onlookers.

  “Zack, put me down.”

  She sounded scandalized but looked pleased. Her head was thrown back, exposing her pale neck glimmering in the moonlight. Her hair swished enticingly against his forearm.

  “Hush, woman.”

  “Oh, my,” she whispered, her green eyes snapping pure passion.

  He hired the carriage and gave the driver the address to their bed-and-breakfast. Settling her onto the seat, he climbed in beside her, then tucked her securely into the curve of his arm.

  “Now,” he said, “isn’t this much more romantic than any tattoo?”

  “Yes,” she admitted and burrowed against his chest.

  Laughing, he kissed her.

  12

  They necked for the entire two-mile ride. Moist mouths joining. Tongues strumming. Eyelashes lowered. Teeth gently nipping.

  Shod hooves clomped against cobblestones. The carriage’s wooden wheels creaked as they rumbled past restaurants and nightclubs. Muffled strains of Dixieland jazz spilled into the night. The driver clicked his tongue, guiding the horse.

  But CeeCee heard nothing except the strong, steady beating of Zack’s heart.

  A myriad of scents wafted on the breeze. Frying shrimp from the seafood place in the middle of the block. Freshly popped popcorn from a street vendor. Robust garlic, tangy oregano, and zesty onion from Mario’s Pizza on the corner.

  But CeeCee smelled nothing except Zack’s heady, manly aroma.

  The well-worn leather seat was smooth against her bottom. Gritty sand filled the soles of her shoes. Her charm bracelet lay cool against her wrist.

  But CeeCee felt nothing except Zack’s arm held tightly around her waist, and his firm lips pressing against hers with just the right amount of urgency.

  The lights around them were bright. Beer signs flickered from O’Hara’s Pub. Old-fashioned, turn-of-the-twentieth-century streetlamps lit the way past the regal mansions of a bygone era. Lights twinkled gaily from the tops of buildings as they approached the Strand.

  But CeeCee saw nothing except Zack’s deep, penetrating dark eyes staring at her in wonderment, as if she were the only woman in the world.

  Everything else was peripheral and unimportant. Her focus was narrowed to one thing and one thing only.

  Zack Travis.

  The driver pulled up outside their inn. Zack paid him, then scooped her into his arms once more, and laughing, carried her up the stoop and into the house.

  CeeCee giggled, impressed by his impulsivenes
s. He was as impetuous as she. Seizing the moment. Enjoying the present. Not fretting about tomorrow and what the future might or might not bring.

  It was the only way to live.

  Happiness, she had once heard someone say, was not getting what you wanted, but rather wanting what you got.

  And for now she had gotten Zack.

  It was enough.

  Or so she kept telling herself.

  “This way, my lady.” He led her up the stairs, her hand tucked firmly in his.

  The closer they got to the bedroom door, the louder CeeCee’s heart knocked until she feared all the guests in the bed-and-breakfast would hear her. How embarrassing it would be if the inn owners caught her sneaking Zack into her bedroom.

  Because she had made up her mind. Tonight, she was going to set a match to this powder keg of sexual attraction that had been smoldering between them for three long weeks. She was not going to back down or run away.

  She wanted him.

  Desperately.

  He stopped outside her bedroom door, took her room key from her, and unlocked it. Then he drew her into his arms. She stared at him, her body trembling.

  “May I come inside with you?”

  “Do you really have to ask?”

  He grinned.

  She opened her door with one hand, grabbed him by the collar with the other, and pulled him in after her. She was so busy kissing him and undoing the buttons on his shirt that she smelled the scented candles before she saw them.

  Pulling back, she swept her gaze around the room. A dozen candles were strategically placed. The bed had been turned down and rose petals had been strewn across the sheets. On the dresser sat a tray of chocolate-covered strawberries and a bucket of iced champagne.

  Zack was busy planting kisses down her neck and softly kneading her buttocks.

  “Wait. Stop.”

  “What is it?” He raised his head and peered at her. His eyes were glassy with passion.

  “What’s all this?” She swept a hand over the room.

  Trepidation flitted through her. Zack had gone to an awful lot of trouble to romance her. Suddenly she found it hard to breathe.

  No. No. No. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t like her this much. Last night’s filet mignon dinner had been bad enough, but she had accepted his explanation that it was a thank-you for the physical therapy treatments. This setup with the wine and the roses went far beyond thank you.

  “Do you like it?” He looked quite pleased with himself.

  “You planned this,” she said flatly.

  “Well, yeah.” He blinked, confusion on his face. “I thought you’d be delighted.”

  “You thought wrong.”

  “What have I done? I don’t understand.”

  “I told you from the beginning I can’t get serious about you. I can’t get serious about any man. I just want to have fun, Zack.”

  “I still don’t understand. It’s a birthday surprise.”

  “But you shouldn’t have planned anything.” Her voice held a desperate note. She had wanted so badly to have a red-hot fling with Zack. Had wanted only a physical relationship with a man who wanted nothing else from her.

  “Sweetheart, you’re overreacting.”

  “Jack’s the one who plans,” she whispered, her voice thick. The truth was deeper than she wanted to admit. Maybe her anxiety sprung from the fact that she was liking Zack too much and not the other way around. “You’re supposed to be spontaneous, free-spirited. You should have made love to me on the beach, Zack, not orchestrated this elaborate seduction.”

  “It doesn’t mean anything, CeeCee, I swear. I just thought you’d enjoy it.”

  “See. That’s the problem. You were being thoughtful! You’re supposed to be selfish.”

  “Easy, sweetheart, easy,” he soothed. “I promise you’re blowing this way out of proportion. I’m still leaving in a week, and you’ll probably never see me again.”

  “Really?” She slanted him a sideways glance.

  “Really.” He reached out and drew her to him once more.

  She felt so conflicted. On the one hand, if she were a normal, non-cursed woman, she would be flattered that he had gone to so much trouble to romance her, but as a hapless casualty of the Jessup family whammy, she was dismayed by his caring, his attention to detail.

  What did this mean? That he thought she was special?

  CeeCee groaned inwardly. She couldn’t be special. Not to Zack. Not to Jack. Not to anybody. She was hexed. Jinxed. Doomed. Any man who looked at her as a long-term love interest would be sorely disillusioned. With Zack, she had believed them both to be safe from heartbreak. Now, she wasn’t sure about anything.

  And maybe, just maybe, whispered a little voice in the back of her mind, you’re afraid the perfect man wouldn’t be so perfect if you had him for your very own.

  “Let’s enjoy the moment, CeeCee, it’s all any of us has.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His breath was warm on her skin.

  “Promise you’re not going to fall in love with me, Zack?”

  “Sweetheart, I would promise you the moon to get you tucked under those covers with me.”

  “Ah,” she said. “That’s what I want to hear. A selfish man.”

  CeeCee surrendered to her physical urgings and curled into him, feeling his heat, his hardness. In an instant, his mouth was on hers, giving her another one of his mind-altering, body-shaking kisses. His breathing came in fast, uneven spurts. His hands were all over her at once, but it wasn’t enough.

  Her insides felt ready to detonate. Her skin seemed too tight, her belly too heavy, her breasts too sensitive.

  More. She needed so much more.

  She tugged his shirt from his waistband, then slipped her hands up under it and across his bare back. His hands roved over her hips; his mouth never left hers.

  It was hot and sexy, and she ached to her very toes for him.

  He pulled her to the edge of the bed, and they collapsed down together on the plush roses. The lush scent wafted up to greet them. She luxuriated in the rich, erotic aroma.

  And then, without any warning, an image of Jack’s wonderful face popped into her head.

  Zack was kissing her like there was no tomorrow. His mouth on her cheeks, her eyelids, her chin, her throat, but in a bit, he stopped, pulled back, and looked down at her.

  “What’s the matter? You stopped responding. Just because I’m a selfish rogue, doesn’t mean I don’t please my women.”

  “It’s not you,” she said, wondering at the wall of tears building in her throat.

  He snorted and rolled to one side. “What is it then? You keep claiming you can’t have anything but a casual relationship, yet every time things get hot and heavy you slow down. Why?”

  “I was just thinking about Jack.”

  “Again!”

  She nodded, miserable that she had upset him, worried why she couldn’t stop thinking about Jack. Here she was having a wild old time, and he was down in Mexico giving of himself to help poor children. She should be ashamed.

  “Have you noticed that every time we come close to having sex you bring up Jack’s name?”

  “No? Yeah?”

  “You use him as a barrier between us.”

  “Do I do that? Really?”

  “You tell me.”

  “I guess I do,” she mused.

  “Face it, lady, you’ve got some serious issues with my brother.”

  “It’s not that. I just don’t want to hurt him.”

  Zack reached out and gently stroked her curls. “How would our having sex hurt Jack?”

  “He’s jealous of your romantic conquests.” CeeCee shrugged and turned her head, distracted by Zack’s fingers running through her hair. She was aroused enough without him touching her.

  “Is he?”

  “Surely you knew?”

  “And what about you, CeeCee?” He chucked a finger under her chin, tilting her face up to meet his. “This is b
etween you and me. It’s got nothing to do with Jack.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “So tell me.” He draped his legs over hers, holding her down on the bed beside him.

  “It’s complicated. I’m not sure I understand it myself.”

  “Maybe I didn’t go to medical school like Jack, but I’m not stupid. Try me. I might see things more clearly than you think.”

  She raised a hand to push a sheaf of hair from her eyes. The charm bracelet at her wrist jangled.

  “I think Jack has a crush on me,” she said after a long pause.

  “Yeah?” Jack held his breath, then asked, “But you keep saying you don’t have sexual feelings for him.”

  “He’s one of my best friends.”

  “And that’s all?”

  “Yes,” she replied firmly. Then she shook her head. “No.”

  Jack raised an eyebrow, and his spirits soared. “So what is it? Yes or no?”

  “I don’t know,” she said mournfully and lifted one shoulder in a regretful half shrug.

  “If Jack is the one you really want, then why are you here in bed with me?”

  “I can’t have Jack. I told you about my family curse. You have no idea what it’s like, knowing you can’t trust any man. That any love affair I’m involved in is doomed to end in failure.”

  “You don’t know that for certain.”

  “Yes, I do. There’s not a man on the face of the earth who can defeat the curse.”

  “Well, if anyone could, it’s Jack. He’s very determined, and he doesn’t love lightly. In fact, I don’t think he’s ever really been in love with anything except medicine. Unless he’s in love with you. If that’s the case, he would fight for you tooth and nail. He’s the most loyal guy I’ve ever known.”

  It felt weird talking about himself in such glowing terms, but he had to make her see that he was different from any man she’d ever known. He wasn’t a quitter and he wasn’t a coward. He’d do anything for her.

  Even go so far as to perpetuate this accidental hoax.

  “It’s more than the curse,” CeeCee admitted in a whisper. “Even if there wasn’t a curse, I’d still be too terrified to ever get married.”

  “And why is that?”

  At last! They were getting down to the nitty-gritty and he would find out exactly what scared her so much.