All Wound Up

by Jaci Burton

  He opened his eyes and sat up straight in the chair. “Oh, hey, Aubry.”

  “Tucker.”

  He stood, yawned. “I came by to see you.”

  “So I heard.”

  “Are you busy?”

  He was kidding, right? “I’m working.”

  “When do you get off?”

  “Not for a while.”

  He shoved his hand in his pocket. “Oh. I thought maybe we could grab something to eat.”

  “Seriously?” Since they were quickly gaining an audience of eavesdroppers, she motioned him through the doors and into a hallway. “You don’t call me for days, then show up here and expect that I’ll be available?”

  “Hey. I texted you two days ago.”

  “Oh, right. A text message. At eleven-thirty at night. I’m not some chick you banged that has nothing better to do than wait for you to call, Tucker. I have a life. A career. And no, I don’t have time for dinner. In fact, I don’t have time for you. So you can walk through those doors and take yourself home. We’re done.”

  She turned and walked away, assuming he’d leave.

  “Hey. It works both ways, you know.”

  He’d caught up with her. She stopped and looked around, hoping like hell Dr. Chen had already left for the day.

  “Excuse me?”

  “These are modern times, Aubry. You could have called me, too. And I was in Denver for three days for a road series.”

  She shrugged. “Why would I call you?”

  “Because you like me? Because we had fun the other night?” His lips curved.

  She tipped her finger at his chest. “And you could have done the same. Besides, you said you’d call. So I assumed you would.” No way was she going to allow him to put this on her.

  “I had practice. I was busy. And I texted. But you didn’t reply.”

  This conversation was going nowhere. “Because I was working.”

  “You could have replied the next day.”

  She rolled her eyes. “This conversation is ridiculous.”

  “I agree. What time do you get off work tonight?”

  “I’m off in an hour and a half. Unless something big happens. Then I might have to stay.”

  “Great. I’ll be back in an hour and a half, and we’ll go get something to eat. Then we can talk some more. Or argue more if you’d like.”

  “I don’t—”

  But he’d pulled her against him and brushed his lips against hers. “I like arguing with you, Aubry. Let’s do that some more. But while we’re eating. I’m hungry. See you soon.”

  He turned around and walked through the doors before she had a chance to tell him no.

  Damn that man. He was infuriating. To think he’d assume she’d go out to dinner with him—do anything with him, was outrageous. When he came back, she’d tell him.

  But he was right about one thing.

  She was hungry, too. She’d barely had time to eat an energy bar today.

  So maybe she’d have dinner with him. She’d let him buy, too, just for aggravating her. And then she’d tell him they weren’t going to see each other anymore.

  After dinner.

  TUCKER WAS BACK AT THE HOSPITAL AN HOUR AND A half later, waiting at the door for Aubry. He’d gone home, taken a shower and changed clothes so he felt a lot more awake.

  Better able to do battle with Aubry.

  She was in a feisty mood. And okay, maybe she had a right to be mad at him. He wasn’t the best with communication. He’d obviously dropped the ball on his follow-up with her. From her point of view, she probably thought he didn’t give a shit, when the opposite was true.

  He’d make it up to her over dinner.

  He told the main desk person he was there, and asked if she’d relay the information to Aubry. She did, and came back a few minutes later to tell him Aubry would be right out, so he took a seat in the waiting room to watch whatever was on TV. An old comedy rerun. He could live with that.

  Fifteen minutes later, Aubry walked out. She’d changed out of her scrubs into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved black button-down shirt. Her hair was soft and silky, making him itch to run his hands through it. She’d even put on makeup and lip gloss, which immediately made him think about kissing her.

  She might be mad at him, but the fact that she’d taken the time to look that good meant something to him.

  He stood and headed over to her. “You look amazing.”

  “Thanks. A patient threw up on me. I needed to take a shower.”

  He laughed. “You still look incredible. Sorry about the throw up.”

  “Why? You weren’t the one who did it.”

  He shook his head and took her arm. “I hope it didn’t ruin your appetite.”

  “Not at all. I’m starving.”

  “Me, too. Let’s go. Can we just take my car? I’ll drive you back here after.”

  She paused. “That doesn’t seem to make sense from a logistical standpoint. Where are we going?”

  “Not far.”

  She considered it for a few seconds, then nodded. “Okay.”

  She got into his car. He turned to face her. “First, I’m sorry. You were right. It was on me to call and I dropped the ball. And that makes me an asshole. I’m not that kind of guy. When I say I’m going to follow through, I do. I apologize for that.”

  He watched her expression. It had been tight as they’d walked out to the car. Now, her shoulders sagged and she exhaled. “Well. Dammit, Tucker. I was all set to argue with you. I had a good mad going on, too.”

  “Uh, sorry again? You’re welcome to stay mad. I don’t mind a good argument.”

  She laughed. “No, really, that’s okay. Apology—both of them—accepted. Now where are we eating?”

  “How do you feel about Italian?”

  “I feel really good about it. Right now I’d eat fast food I’m so hungry.”

  He wrinkled his nose. “I eat plenty of that. And no, thanks. We’re eating good food tonight.”

  He drove them to Il Bel Lago, a restaurant he’d heard about but hadn’t eaten at yet. He turned off the engine. “I heard the food here is really good.”

  “Sounds great to me.”

  They walked inside and Tucker gave his name to the hostess, who told him it would be a few minutes.

  “We’ll wait in the bar,” he said.

  The bar was dark and modern. They took a seat at one of the tables, and a waitress came by to get their drink orders.

  “I’ll have Chianti,” Aubry said.

  “Beer for me,” Tucker said, then looked over at Aubry. “How was your day?”

  “Intense. Rough. Yours?”

  “We had an afternoon game. We lost.”

  “I’m sorry. Did you pitch?”

  He shook his head. “No. Garrett Scott did. But it’s still tough to lose a game. Even harder when I’m not the one in control.”

  “You like to be in control.”

  His lips curved. “I’d pitch every game if they let me.”

  Their waitress brought their drinks.

  “Thanks,” Tucker said to the waitress.

  “You’re welcome. Sorry about the loss today.”

  Obviously she recognized him. “Thank you. We’ll get ’em next time.”

  After the waitress walked away, Aubry took a sip of her wine, then said, “That must happen a lot.”

  “What?”

  “People recognizing you. Talking to you about baseball.”

  He shrugged. “Not as often as you might think.”

  “I don’t know.” She leaned back in her chair, cradling her wineglass between both hands. “St. Louis is a big baseball city. They know their players.”

  “And here I thought you didn’t care about baseball.”

  “Oh, I don’t. Actually, I prefer football.”

  He frowned. “You’re joking, right?”

  “I am not.”

  He shook his head. “Great. Just great.”

  “What’s
wrong with football?”

  “Oh, nothing. Other than the fact that the Cassidys are well known for being a football dynasty.”

  “Is that right?” Then her eyes widened and she leaned forward. “Wait. Wait. I remember meeting Grant and Barrett when they brought you into the ER, but for some reason I didn’t recognize him at the time. Grant’s the Traders’ quarterback, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow. I don’t know why I didn’t make that connection. How fascinating. And Barrett plays football, too?”

  “Oh, it’s worse than that. Barrett’s actually my twin. He plays for the Tampa Bay Hawks. And I have another brother, Flynn, who plays for the San Francisco Sabers. My dad is Easton Cassidy, former quarterback for Green Bay and now a Hall of Famer.”

  She laughed. “You have got to be kidding me. You do have a big football family.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “So why are you the only one who plays baseball?”

  Not the first time he’d heard that question. “Because I like baseball.”

  “You never wanted to play football like the rest of your family?”

  “Nope.”

  “So you’re not playing baseball because you couldn’t cut it in football or anything?”

  Not the first time he’d heard that question, either. “Uh, no. I played both when I was a kid, and decided I liked baseball better. You could ask your dad—or the Rivers coach. I’m a damn good pitcher.”

  She laid her glass on the table and raised her hands in the air. “I believe you. And obviously you’re with the Rivers now because you’re good. The general manager and my dad don’t put people on the team if they’re not good at what they do. I just find it curious that out of this family dynasty of football players, you’re the only one who chose baseball.”

  “You’re not the first person who thinks it was because I couldn’t cut it as a football player.”

  Their hostess came and directed them to their table. The restaurant was separate from the bar, and the décor was different as well. Well lit, yet more intimate, not as loud as the bar. They were settled into a cozy booth in the corner, providing them some privacy.

  “Enjoy your meal, Mr. Cassidy,” the hostess said with a bright smile.

  “Thanks.”

  Tucker opened the menu, studied it for a minute while he made his selection, then closed it. Their waiter came by, introduced himself and told them about the specials, then asked if they wanted more to drink. Tucker looked over at Aubry.

  “I’ll have another Chianti.”

  “Another beer for me.”

  They ordered appetizers and their meals while their waiter was there. He walked off to get their drinks.

  “Now it’s my turn to apologize,” Aubry said.

  “For what?”

  “For baiting you about football. I was just teasing you. Not about me liking football, but about why you chose baseball.”

  He shrugged. “I’m used to it. I’ve taken shit my entire life for besmirching the Cassidy name by becoming a pitcher instead of taking on football.”

  “You have not. Really? Hopefully not by your family.”

  “Nah. My brothers give me a hard time, but that’s what brothers are for. My parents have always been supportive. My dad told me to do what makes me happy.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that. As long as the people you care about support you, they’re who matter. Everyone else can go fuck themselves.”

  He laughed. “Thanks. That’s what I’ve always thought.”

  “Look, I know exactly where you’re coming from. My choice to go into medicine was a surprise to a lot of people. My mother is in finance and she helps run the Ross empire with Dad. His love of sports is legendary. It was always assumed that I, as their only child, would move into the family business and work in the front office of Ross Enterprises. But I excelled in math and science, and from a young age I knew I wanted to be a doctor.”

  Their waiter brought their appetizer, along with bread, and Tucker and Aubry dug in.

  “Did your parents encourage you along that path?”

  She nodded while pouring oil and vinegar onto a plate, then selected a slice of bread for dipping. “Absolutely. Though my uncle—not the one we were hunting for that night I met you, by the way. Uncle Davis is my mother’s brother. This is my other uncle, my father’s brother. Anyway, slightly off topic there. My Uncle Oliver thought it was awful of me to even consider not following in my father’s footsteps. Since I’m the only heir, he said, it was my responsibility to carry on the Ross legacy. My uncle never married or had children, so he told me the continuation of our dynasty falls to me.”

  “Ouch. That’s a pretty heavy burden to place on someone’s shoulders.”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s good your parents encouraged you to do what you were meant to do, even if that means deviating from the family path.”

  “Yes. And I love them for it. If even once they had asked me to get my degree in business or finance so I could carry on the family name at Ross Enterprises, I’d have done it.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. They mean everything to me. I’d do whatever it took to make them happy, especially if carrying on the family name and business was vital to them. Fortunately, it never came to that. Dad is so proud that I’m becoming a doctor.”

  “That’s great.”

  “I assume your dad is the same way.”

  “Yeah. He wouldn’t have cared if any of us boys had gone into sports at all, as long as we did something productive with our lives, and we were happy doing it.”

  She speared some of the toasted ravioli and took a taste. “Mmm. This is good. Take a bite.”

  She put another ravioli on her fork, waving it in front of him. He grasped her wrist, then slid the fork into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed.

  “You’re right. It’s good.”

  Aubry hadn’t wanted to even go to dinner with Tucker, let alone find herself relaxing and having such an intense conversation about families with him. Maybe it was the two glasses of wine, but she felt calm and settled.

  Or maybe it was because he’d sincerely apologized right away, and then he’d proceeded to charm her with his honesty and his candor about his life and his family. She’d been out on dates before with men who’d done nothing but scratched the surface. She already knew more about Tucker in the short period of time she’d known him than she knew about a lot of guys she’d dated for months.

  “When’s your next game?” she asked.

  “We have five more games at home, so a decent home stretch. Then we’re on the road to Chicago after that.”

  “How do you feel about all the travel?”

  “It’s part of the job.” He picked up another ravioli, only this time he fed it to her. She smiled when he slipped the fork between her lips. The action was so intimate, she felt the tug in her lower belly, especially when their gazes met and held. A collision of sensation, between the delicious food, the nice buzz from the wine, and the man who confused her and definitely attracted her.

  The waiter brought their dinner. She was already full, but the tempting aromas renewed her appetite. She had the champagne chicken, while Tucker had the veal. They swapped tastes of each other’s food. It was delicious, a decadent delight to her senses.

  “Tell me about your bad day,” Tucker said as they were finishing up. “We’ve talked enough about me.”

  “It wasn’t that bad, really. My attending physician was a little rough on me for not being sensitive to a patient’s needs.”

  He leveled his gaze on hers. “What happened?”

  She found herself elaborating in great detail about the child and her mother. She explained how tense the situation had been, how Chen had smoothed things over and how out of her element she’d appeared to her boss.

  He nodded. “Rough situation. I’m sure you were handling it just fine, but it’s hard with little kids, ya know? Even at the best of times they
can be a handful. And because the kid was already upset, there was probably nothing you could have done to calm her. Your boss was just the lucky second party to come in and make things all better.”

  She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “Really. And what makes you the expert on kids.”

  “Trust me, I’m no expert. But I have siblings. In addition to three brothers, I also have a little sister. When my sister, Mia, was younger, she’d scream her head off about something and one of us or Dad would try to comfort her, and nothing would help. Then Mom would come in, whisper some soft words, and that would be the end of her tirade.”

  “Oh, well that’s the mom effect. All mothers have that calming influence.”

  He laughed. “You’d think that, wouldn’t you, but that didn’t always work on Mia. Because the very next instance it would be Mom trying to calm her down, and Dad would be the one walking in the room, saying a few ‘aww, poor baby’s to her, and poof. Tears gone.”

  “Hmm. So maybe there is some point to what you’re saying.”

  “I’m tellin’ ya, it’s like magic. It’s like the first person on the scene is invisible. And the second person has that special voice that does the trick. I don’t know what it is, but it seems to work. It even happened with me and a couple of my brothers. Barrett and I got into fights all the time. One time he was irritating the shit out of me and I’d had enough, so I hauled off and punched him in the face. He went down, hard, and started bawling like a baby. Grant was nearby so he came in and got a towel for Barrett’s bloody nose and tried to get him to stop crying.”

  “Let me guess,” Aubry said. “He wouldn’t stop, right?”

  “You got it. And then Flynn, who’s the oldest, comes in—and you gotta understand, Flynn is one tough sonofabitch. But here’s this twelve-year-old kneeling down over Barrett being all soothing and telling him everything is going to be all right, which is basically what Grant had just said to him, but Barrett stopped crying.”

  Aubry shook her head. “I’m going to make it a point to be the second person in the exam room from now on whenever I have a kid as a patient. I’ll send the nurse in first. She can deal with all the crying, and then I’ll be the savior.”