“I’m doing better. Staying at Seth’s helps. I just hate going home to an empty place,” he admitted.
“Where are you going tonight?” Booker asked, before stuffing half a cow in his mouth.
“I thought I’d stay at Seth’s. All my stuff’s still there.”
“Okay, but remember the old expression ‘three’s a crowd,’” Booker said, practically swallowing his food whole.
“‘Three’s a …’ Wait, I thought they were flying to Hawaii tonight. Aren’t you taking them to the airport?” Cole asked wide-eyed.
Booker grinned. “Nope, change of plans. They decided to spend the first few days as husband and wife in their own home. They fly out Monday.”
“Great.” Cole looked sick.
“Relax, you can stay at my place,” Booker assured Cole. “We can stop on the way home and pick up a razor, and I do believe you left a set or two of scrubs at my house. I’m sure I can find them.”
“Scrubs? You expect me to wear scrubs for two or three days?”
Booker froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. “You’re kidding, right? Doc, I’ve known you for over eight years and tonight’s the first time I’ve seen you in something other than scrubs. If it weren’t for that bandage on your wrist,” Booker pointer to Cole’s left wrist, were there was indeed a bandage I hadn’t noticed, “I would not have recognized you today.”
“That’s so not true,” Cole said rolling his eyes.
I watched the banter between the two men with envy, and thought to myself, this is how brothers should act. My brothers had dysfunction down to a science. Their teases were verbal punches, aimed at hurting each other as much as possible. Inevitably, the verbal punches escalated to physical punches. My mom, and later Birdie, would usher me away.
“Excuse me, I need to use the restroom,” Tess said quietly as the music started overhead. She glanced around as if she looked for someone, and then stood silently.
Both Cole and Booker stood, as did I. “I’ll join you, Tess.” She nodded and we left the guys to fend for themselves.
“Those two are pretty entertaining, don’t you think?” I asked Tess.
“Yes.” She didn’t say anything else until we both stood at the sink washing our hands.
“Are you and Booker dating?”
“Oh, no,” she said. For the first time there was a little animation in her voice. “Cole set us up. I mean, I know Booker. He used to come down to records a few times and talk to me. I worked there before transferring to the ER, but we’ve never gone out before.”
It was the most I’d heard the woman speak, ever. It was also the first time I’d seen her eyes. She wore contacts, dark brown contacts. In the bright bathroom lights I could also see that her hair’d been dyed. I couldn’t tell the original color, but it was definitely dyed.
A disguise. I’d been around my father enough to know when someone wore a disguise and this woman definitely was, for whatever reason.
“Did you grow up around here?” I asked as we walked back to the table.
“No.”
“Is your family nearby?”
“No.” Again, nothing more offered.
I decided to try one more time to draw her into a conversation. “How long have you lived in Port Fare?”
“A while,” Tess said. Two words … a slight improvement.
My paranoia kicked in. Did Tess work for Daddy? Did he hire her to keep an eye on me? All my anguish from the past two days came roaring back.
“Are you okay?” Tess asked.
I didn’t realize I had stopped walking. And breathing. I sucked in a lungful of honeysuckle filled air.
“Yes, fine.” I increased my pace, needing to sit down.
Stop with the paranoia already. Tess worked in records before being transferred to the ER. No way had Daddy hired her to watch me.
I heard Tess call after me about needing to get something to drink, and that was all I could make out as the music blared overhead.
Thankfully the music wasn’t as loud by the tables. I arrived at the table in time to hear Cole teasing Booker about the time he mistakenly arrested the mayor’s wife for shoplifting. Booker laughed so hard he had tears running out his eyes.
“In my defense, I was a rookie at the time,” Booker explained, wiping his face.
“What did you do?” Cole asked. He had a fresh plate of food in front of him, all desserts, not a single vegetable.
“When he showed up to bail her out, I told him it was ‘Take Your Favorite Politician to Lunch’ day, and I knew with his busy schedule I’d have to do something drastic to get his attention.”
Cole shook his head. “And he bought it?”
“Yup, or maybe it was because I invited his wife to go along. I took them to the most expensive restaurant in town. Cost me a week’s wages.”
“You’re one lucky guy,” Cole said shaking his head.
“Lilah, what happen to Tess?” Booker looked around the room. “Did you lose her?”
“She wanted something to drink,” I answered.
Booker spun around on Cole. “You owe me big time. That woman never talks. I’ve heard more noise from a dead body than I’ve heard out of her.”
“She’s very sweet, Booker. Besides, I thought it would be good for her to get out and meet people. I overheard a few nurses talking, and they said she has no friends and lives alone,” Cole said. He took a bite of a delicious looking piece of strawberry pie.
“She lives alone because all her roommates have died of boredom,” Booker insisted. “I may have to arrest her for manslaughter.”
I laughed. Booker looked at me and smiled. “Sorry. She’s very sweet. I’ve nothing against her, but she’s afraid of her own shadow. I wonder what’s made her like that.”
“Oh, no,” Cole said, setting his fork down.
“‘Oh, no’ what?” Booker asked, slightly agitated.
“You’re going into rescue mode again. Maybe she’s just shy, did you ever think of that?”
I could almost see Booker’s mind working. His brow tightened as if deep in thought. He shrugged casually, a little too casually. Apparently Cole thought so, too, because he said, “Booker, you have enough on your plate. Let it go.”
“You’re probably right,” Booker replied.
“Booker. Promise me you’ll let it go.”
“Cole—”
“Promise me,” Cole demanded.
“Fine. I promise,” Booker finally relented.
“Good, here she comes. Ask her to dance, and remember, no prying.”
“I promised, didn’t I? And don’t I always keep my promises?” Booker replied, and then added, “Bet ya five bucks she’ll say no to the dancing.” Cole tried not to smile.
Booker jumped up to hold out Tess’s chair as she sat down. When the next song started he leaned over to her. “I do believe they’re playing our song.” Overhead the words Stacy’s Mom’s Got it Going On blasted through the speakers. Cole looked away, probably to keep Tess from seeing him laugh.
“Oh, I don’t dance, sorry,” Tess said, just as Booker predicted.
I slipped my hand around Cole’s arm, hoping he’d get the hint and ask me. I thought about asking him, but sometimes a girl needs to feel wanted. Only he didn’t ask.
“Hello, everyone.” Seth and Maggie approached our table, still glowing. I’d seen them making their way around the room, stopping at all the tables, greeting their guests.
“Why aren’t you out there dancing, Book?” Maggie pressed.
“Maybe later,” he said, probably not wanting to embarrass his date.
“What about you, Cole? You love to salsa, and I’ve told Lilah how good you are,” Maggie said. “I know for a fact they’ve play two Marc Anthony songs so far.”
“I’ve been giving him hints, but he’s not asked me,” I said with an exaggerated sigh. Booker and Seth laughed.
“Cole, she’s our guest. You should ask her,” Seth insisted.
“Fine. The ne
xt time they play salsa I will,” he said, frowning.
“Good. Come on, wife,” Seth said, taking his wife’s hand. “We have a few more tables to visit.” Seth led Maggie over to the next table.
“If you don’t want to dance with me, you don’t have to,” I said as Cole reached for his water glass.
“I want to, Lilah, but you have to promise to behave,” he said, taking a sip.
“So what you’re saying is that while we are dancing, I can’t do anything like this?” I asked, giving his knee a squeeze.
Unfortunately, my poor timing caused Cole to knock over his and my water glasses, shattering them and flooding the table. Oh, my dear, adorable Opie.
Chapter 15
“With your luck, it’s a wonder you’ve never cut your hand off in the ER .” Booker reached over and helped Cole pick up broken shards of glass.
“He’s a genius in the ER,” I defended Cole, rather strongly.
“You’re right, Lilah. Cole’s a great doctor. I didn’t mean that as an insult. My apologies to you and the fine doctor.” He eyed me for a moment before turning to Cole. “You have quite a defender here. I definitely wouldn’t let her slip away.”
Several things happened at once. Cole sliced his finger open on the broken glass. It wasn’t deep, but he bled pretty good nevertheless. Ricky Martin’s Livin’ la Vida Loca filled the room as several couples jumped up and raced to the dance floor. And Tess fainted. Booker caught her before she hit the floor.
Cole wrapped a white linen napkin around the oozing wound and rushed to Tess’ side. He rubbed her wrist as Booker wiped a wet napkin across her brow.
“What happened?” she asked, opening her eyes several moments later. Her face drained of color as she looked up at everyone.
“I believe you fainted,” Booker said.
“I’m so sorry. Blood and I don’t do so well together.” She jumped out of Booker’s arms and smoothed her dress and hair back into place.
“I’d better get going. Thank you, Booker, for a lovely time. I’ll see you at work on Monday, Cole.” She turned to leave, but Booker stopped her.
“Hold on, Tess. Give yourself a few minutes to recover, and then I’ll take you home.”
“I’m fine, Booker. Really. There’s no need. I’ll catch a cab.”
Natalie, the nurse from the hospital, and her husband Jeremy walked over with an adorable baby as Booker continued to press Tess into letting him take her home.
“Hi, Tess, are you okay?” Natalie asked. “I saw you faint. Is there anything I can do to help?
“I’m so embarrassed. You know me and blood.” Tess’ eyes darted around the room as she spoke. Why did she keep doing that?
“Jeremy and I are on our way home. Little Gabe has had enough wedding. Do you need a ride?” The sleepy baby dropped his head to his dad’s shoulder and shut his eyes.
“Yes, thank you.”
Booker stammered for a minute. “Fine, I’ll walk you out,” he said, resigned. “Doc, I’ll grab my first aid kit while I’m out and see if we can keep you from bleeding to death.”
“Cole,” I turned to him, guilt ridden. “I’m so sorry. I feel simply terrible.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“If I hadn’t been flirting with you, it wouldn’t have happened,” I said, gathering the last broken piece of glass and set it in a napkin.
“You can’t blame yourself for my clumsiness.” We blotted up the water as a couple of waiters came over and replaced the tablecloth and napkins.
Booker returned as they finished. “Here ya go.” Booker handed him a small, battered gray box with a red cross on it. “I suggest you take it into the bathroom.”
“Agreed. I’ll be right back.” Cole picked up the box and trotted off.
Booker laughed, pointing to my legs. “I’m guessing you like salsa music.”
I looked down as they bounced to the beat. “Love it,” I confessed.
“Come on.” Booker held out his hand and I took it. “It’s been a few years, so I apologize if I’m a little rusty.” He pulled me around and spun me in a quick, tight circle.
We twisted and circled the floor like pros. A few couples around us stopped to watch. My heart pounded to the music as it filled me. Memories of dancing in the kitchen with my mother flooded my head, memories of a happy time, a time when I felt free, a time when my life was easy and uncomplicated. More than once I found myself laughing out loud, much to Booker’s amusement.
“You’re good,” he said, after the dance.
“Thanks. So are you.” I looked over his shoulder. Cole stood on the side, watching us. The music started up again, this time a slow song. I slipped my arms around Booker’s neck, hoping jealousy would motivate Cole.
Booker laughed. “You’re quite formidable. Cole’s not going to fall for this, you know that, right?”
“You don’t think so?” I eyed Cole. He didn’t look happy.
Booker shrugged. “He knows I’d never make a move on someone he liked.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not so sure Opie likes me, not in the romantic sense anyway,” I complained as Booker danced me around. He held me conservatively, dashing any hope of sparking a little jealousy in Cole.
“Opie?” He laughed. “That’s perfect. I like it. I may just have to borrow it.”
The music came to a close. Booker spun me around one last time before leading us back to the table.
“Hey, Opie. How’s the hand?” Booker asked. Three bandages were wrapped around his index finger, with a small cotton ball wedged under each.
“Fine,” Cole said, his eyes fixed on me.
“She wanted to dance. I hope you don’t mind.” Booker settled at the table.
Before I could even pull out my chair, Cole took my hand. “I want to dance also. Shall we?”
The music, salsa again, began with a slow, sexy beat. Cole pulled me much closer than Booker and his brotherly hold. We rocked back and forth, staring into each other’s eyes. When the music caught fire; so did Cole.
Booker wasn’t kidding when he said Cole was better. The music invaded every inch of me as we laced our way across the dance floor. A floor we owned. Where a few couples stood and watched as Booker and I danced, the entire reception center watched Cole and me.
How can this complete klutz dance like this?
The music ended and we were applauded. I panted, trying to catch my breath as we walked over to the punch bowl. Cole took a small glass cup from the table and held it under a stream of punch shooting out from a cherub’s arrow. He handed me the glass, filling another for himself.
“How’s that possible?” I asked after my breath slowed. “You practically cut your fingers off on a daily basis, you fall constantly, yet you dance like Derek Hough.”
“Who?”
“You know, the guy from Dancing with the…never mind. Cole, that was amazing.”
“Thank you,” he said. He took my hand again and led me back out on the floor. This time a slow, romantic ballad filled the air.
I stared up into his beautiful blue eyes as we slowly circled the floor. I snuggled in closer, outlining his jaw with my finger, and sneaking it up into his silky blond hair, all in hopes of getting an Opie kiss. I felt his frame tighten as I brought my finger down, tracing his lower lip.
Suddenly we were outside on a deserted patio. Cole backed me up to a brick wall and stood inches from me.
“This has to stop.” He planted his hands on the brick wall on either side of my head. “I can’t keep fighting you off, Lilah. I mean it. No more!”
“Your lips say no-no, but your body language is screaming something much different.” I pointed out. “Look how close you’re standing to me. If you wanted to, you could very easily kiss me right now.”
Cole looked at his hands and pulled them from the wall as if he’d gotten burned. He spun away and walked several steps before turning back.
“Lilah,” exasperation filled his voice. “You’re nineteen years old. I
’m thirty.” He shoved his hand through his hair. “I want a family, children, a wife. I want what Maggie and Seth have. Living with them the past several months has opened my eyes to what I’ve been missing. I allowed myself to get so wrapped up in my career I forgot to live my life.
“You and I are in in different places in our lives, Lilah,” he continued. It sounded more like he was trying to convince himself of what he said. “You’re young and carefree, as you should be. But I, well, I want to settle down. I don’t want a casual relationship with a nineteen-year-old girl.”
The words he spoke tore at my heart. All the things he wanted I wanted, too. Things I’d been robbed of. As he stood there telling me we had no future together, I realized just how much I didn’t want to hear that from him. I didn’t want to be just his friend. I wanted more, much more.
“You’re telling me,” I said slowly, “that the only reason you won’t date me is because of my age?”
I watched him struggled with his feelings. The anguish in his tight features. The restless rubbing of the back of his neck. The corded muscles in his arm. All because of me. Because of my selfish ploy to get him into a relationship so I could use him and help my father get revenge.
I was done. I couldn’t do it anymore. I could not…I would not help my father. He was dead wrong about these people. They were good, honest people. I’d have to try and convince him of that when he came back into the country, though in my heart I didn’t hold out much hope. My father wrote the book on stubborn. And if he wouldn’t listen to me . . . I didn’t know what I was going to do.
I took a deep breath. “Cole, what if I told you that I’m not really nineteen?”
His jaw dropped and his face blanched. I certainly didn’t expect that reaction. “Lilah, please, please tell me you’re at least eighteen,” he partially begged.
I should’ve expected that reaction from Opie. I chuckled. I tried not to, but I just couldn’t help myself.
“I meant I’m older than nineteen, not younger,” I said through a wide grin.
He took a step toward me and stopped. “So how old are you?” Trepidation filled his voice.
I took a deep breath, hoping my real age was enough for this statistics loving man. If he still turned me away, I didn’t know what I’d do, because I was very much in love with Cole Colter.
Unbelievable Page 13
