by Elle Keating
Brennan shot out of bed, sweaty and irritated. What the fuck did that dream mean? He looked at the clock. It was close to nine in the morning. He rarely slept this late, but last night did him in. The fight… and then meeting Anna. When he had come home from the urgent care, he struggled to fall asleep. He had laid in bed, his mind racing, which wasn’t normal. After a fight, he was always calm because he had just had his fix, what he needed to stay balanced at least for a little while. Between fights he would relieve his anxiety with his other vice.
Fighting, fucking, fighting, fucking. It was an endless cycle, one that at first he had loved, but now…
Brennan swung his feet around and rubbed his eyes, and that pain that he had experienced in his dream came roaring back. He went to the bathroom and inspected the wound over his eye in the mirror. It didn’t look good. He must have aggravated it in his sleep because it was now puffy and pink. Worse, the stiches didn’t look as tight. Shit. He threw himself in the shower, hoping that he was seeing things. Afterward, he dressed in a pair of sweats and his Eagles hoodie and decided he needed some air. He couldn’t get that blonde’s laugh or the look on Dream Anna’s face as she watched him screw another woman out of his head.
Betrayal, disappointment. That’s what he had seen in her eyes.
He stepped out of his house and walked over the dunes. It had been a while since he had taken a stroll on the beach. He went to the water’s edge and peered out. Brennan thrust his fingers through his hair and hissed as he accidentally brushed his brow. Goddammit. His brother’s game started in a few hours and he didn’t want to be late. With that, he turned to head back home only to encounter a Golden Retriever standing before him, his tail wagging a mile a minute. There was a little white scruff around his muzzle, but the rest of his coat was the color of honey.
“Mack! Come here, boy!” shouted a familiar voice. Brennan looked over and there she was, wearing black yoga pants, sneakers, and a fitted sweatshirt. Her auburn hair whipped in the wind and he sucked in a breath. Last night as she stitched him up, he had to imagine what she looked like under her white coat and scrubs. But today every generous curve was on display. Blood rushed to his cock as he took her in. “It’s… you,” she said.
Speak. Don’t just stand there.
“It is.”
Awesome response, Brennan. Brilliant.
He cleared his throat as she stepped toward him. Why was he so nervous around her? He didn’t get anxious around women. Ever. Something wasn’t right. Her gaze drifted from his eyes to his brow and she frowned.
“Your stitches, they don’t look so good. What on earth did you do?”
“I think I did it in my sleep.”
“Well, it looks a little infected. And two of the stiches have been pulled. They need to be redone.”
“Should I head over to the urgent care?”
“Um… you don’t have to. I mean, I can do it. I have a first aid kit in my backpack,” she said, pointing over her shoulder.
“You carry a first aid kit with you, one that contains the materials needed to stitch me up?”
“I never leave home without it. You never know what you’ll encounter.”
“Well, I live right there, if you don’t mind…”
“That’s your house?” she asked, following his outstretched hand.
“Yes.”
“It’s… nice.” Typically, when people remarked how much they loved his beachfront home, how it screamed money, he would eat that up. But for some reason he felt embarrassed acknowledging the fact that the multi-million-dollar home belonged to him. “Yeah… okay,” she said. She followed behind as they made their way along the path that led to his home. “Mack can wait on your deck. I don’t want him to track sand all over…” He opened the back door and Mack darted into his foyer. “…your hardwood floors,” she finished.
“It’s no big deal,” he said while Mack explored the first floor. “Will the kitchen work?” he asked, watching her drift farther into his home. She scanned her surroundings, and he could tell by the look on her face that she was impressed. Anybody would be. He had the dilapidated home that once stood here torn down and built one to his specifications. An open floor plan, hardwood floors and warm colors throughout, and of course a kitchen that was top notch. He took a seat at the breakfast bar.
“Yeah, that should be fine. Let me just wash my hands.” He watched her walk over to the sink, roll up her sleeves and scrub for over two minutes. The simple act fascinated him, at how right she looked there. He shook his head. She dried her hands on a paper towel and came over to him. She withdrew her first aid kit, which was definitely not the kind you could purchase in a drug store. In addition to Band-aids and some peroxide, she had items in there that one would find in a hospital emergency room.
“You really come prepared.”
“Like I said, you never know what you’re going to encounter.” She slipped a pair of latex gloves on and positioned herself between his legs as she inspected the damage. He was eye-level with her breasts which wasn’t good, because he couldn’t stop staring at them even when she cleaned his cut with a peroxide-soaked cotton ball. “This isn’t the first time you’ve had stiches. Did you get these wet?”
“I took a shower,” he said, looking up at her. Her cheeks flushed and he found that to be fucking hot as hell. Was she picturing him in the shower?
“They need to stay dry,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. “I’m going to numb the area. You’ll feel a little pinch,” she warned before she shot him up with an anesthetic.
“I know the drill,” he said.
“It will take a few minutes for it to kick in.” Anna capped the needle and placed it back into the first aid kit. “Where’s Mack?” she asked. He had been sitting at Brennan’s feet for the past couple minutes, but he must have wandered away… while Brennan was gawking at his mom. “Mack,” she called.
They checked each room on the first floor, but he was nowhere to be found. “Mack!” they shouted together. They entered his bedroom and found Mack sprawled out on his bed, sound asleep, snoring away.
“Oh my god! I’m so sorry. Mack, get off that bed right now!” Mack’s eyes flew open and he jumped off the bed, his tail between his legs and his ears plastered to his head. He knew he was in deep shit. “I’m so embarrassed,” she said, shaking her head. Brennan just chuckled.
“It’s no big deal.”
“Yes, it is. He just moseyed on up here and made himself comfortable… in your bed of all places,” she said, pointing to his unmade king-sized bed. At least he had picked his clothes and underwear up off the floor and disposed of them in the hamper before leaving this morning. He followed her gaze to his bed and he instantly pictured her in it, him doing things to her that made his cock twitch in his sweatpants, which wasn’t good. Because sweatpants and hard cocks?
“I think my brow is numb,” he said, quickly heading out of his bedroom. Jesus, he was acting and thinking like a teenaged boy. Getting hard at just imagining the woman in his bed. She followed him back to the kitchen. Mack circled a few times before he curled up on the living room floor. He refused to even look at Anna.
Brennan sat on the stool and Anna again positioned herself between his thighs. She didn’t waste any time and got to work. He watched her chew her bottom lip, her gaze intense and all business. There was nothing sexual about what she was doing, but his cock disagreed and stiffened in his pants. He looked down at the floor, trying to get himself together, but eventually his eyes traveled upward, focusing on her toned calves, the curve of her thighs and hips that flared out in the best possible way. His hands clenched in his lap. And then his eyes landed on her breasts. They would fill his palms perfectly and he stifled a groan.
“Mack and I walk this stretch of beach at least three times a week. Weird that I’ve never bumped into you before,” she said.
“With work… I don’t have that much free time.”
“I imagine your cooking show keeps you real
ly busy.”
He had wondered if she knew who he was because she had never let on in that urgent care room. He was simply her patient, not a rich celebrity, just ordinary. And he liked that.
“I left the show two years ago… wanted to spend all my time at my restaurant.”
“Oh, you looked like you enjoyed working on the show. I mean, when I watched you on it last night. I mean, I was in bed and I needed something to put me to sleep and your show was on and… yeah, I saw you.”
She watched me on television? Last night?
“Ouch,” he said. “It was really that boring?”
“No, I’m just not a big reality television person, but it was on, and it was strange that I had just stitched up one of the judges on screen.”
“Which episode did you watch?”
“The first one was a tribute to the military. There were three contestants, all had served our country and now wanted to start a culinary career. The second episode, you…”
“You watched more than one episode?”
“Uh… yeah… had a hard time falling asleep,” she quickly said. “Okay, you’re all done.” She packed up her kit, removed her gloves and deposited them in the trashcan. She walked over to the sink.
Anna was washing her hands when the words came pouring out of his mouth. “Stay for breakfast,” he said. “I mean, I would like to cook for you, since you saved me a trip to the urgent care.”
She dried her hands and then swung her bag over her shoulder. “Thanks, but Mack and I have to get going.” They both peered out into the living room and Mack was again asleep, this time on his back, his hind legs spread. “He has no shame,” she said. “Come on, Mack.” He roused and went to her.
“Then dinner sometime?” he asked.
“Um… I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, walking to the door.
He picked up the pace as he trailed behind her. “Why?”
“Because… you’re my patient, and I don’t date patients.”
He wanted to scream bullshit. She had given him stiches, that’s it. No, she was actually turning him down. And he couldn’t remember the last time a woman had turned him down. “Okay… I can respect that.” She nodded and then reached for the door. “I guess I’ll see you around, then. Thanks again, Anna,” he said, pointing to his brow.
“Remember, keep it dry,” she said.
“Will do, Doc.” She gave him a small smile and jetted out his door with Mack at her side.
***
He was late. He hated being late. For work, for family dinner, for anything. Brennan looked at the scoreboard. At least the Philadelphia Eagles were up by ten. He had listened to the game on the way here in his truck. It was still only the first half, but he rarely missed even a minute of Jake’s home football games. Brennan searched the row of seats his family basically took over at every home game. The only adult McGinnis missing was Jake’s wife Morgan. She was at home with their two-month-old daughter Lucy. His mom and dad were camped out in their regular seats. His brother Luke and his wife Peyton were seated to the right of his mother. His sister Carina and her husband Josh were sitting farther down the aisle all decked out in their Eagles’ gear.
But it was his fraternal twin brother Gabe who grabbed his attention. Actually, it was the way he was staring at the seven-year-old kid sitting to his left. Gabe was in love with that boy, as well as his mom, Devan. Up until a few months ago Gabe had lived like a hermit. He had been content living in his bayside cottage when he wasn’t manning one of his many commercial fishing boats. The ocean had been his vice, his escape. But he no longer sought refuge there, not since he met Devan and her son. His recluse of a brother had found solace in the arms of a woman, something Brennan never thought he would see. And Brennan couldn’t be happier for him.
“Hey there, beautiful.”
Devan stood and gave Brennan a warm hug.
“Okay, hands off my fiancée,” Gabe said. Brennan chuckled into Devan’s long dark hair before letting her go. Brennan looked over at his brother, matching Gabe’s smile. But it quickly wavered as Gabe’s gaze landed on the stiches above his eye.
“I need to hit the ladies’ room,” Devan said. “Jack, do you need to go?”
“Nope, I’m good,” Jack said. Brennan sat down in the seat next to Devan’s vacant chair and started to watch the game.
“Boxing?” Gabe asked. Brennan looked over and nodded. It wasn’t the first time Gabe had seen him with stitches, or a busted lip… black eyes… bandages covering his knuckles.
“I got it at the gym… boxing,” Brennan said. He did belong to a gym, one that had a boxing ring. That at least wasn’t a lie.
“Can I have one of your crab fries, Jack?” Brennan asked.
“Sure.” Jack held up his bucket and Brennan leaned over and snagged a handful. Brennan settled into his seat, but he could feel his brother’s eyes boring a hole in the side of his head.
“You’re missing the game, little bro of two minutes.” He didn’t meet Gabe’s stare because then he would know that something was off.
At halftime, Brennan and his family grabbed some cheesesteaks and of course he was interrogated by his mom the second she saw his face. Like always, he plastered on a smile and lied as to why he was sporting yet another set of stiches. His mother scolded him before giving him a kiss on his cheek and telling him to be more careful.
“Boxing?” his dad asked. He sounded like Gabe. And like Gabe his dad was studying him.
“Yep… boxing,” he said before taking a bite of his cheesesteak. They walked back to their seats, but instead of Devan sitting next to him, Luke took her place. Devan made herself comfortable farther down the aisle next to Gabe.
“So what does the other guy look like?” his oldest brother asked.
“I won, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I wouldn’t mind getting into boxing, could use a good workout. Maybe I should join your gym.”
“And risk messing up that pretty face of yours? Peyton would have my head.”
“No way. She would think I’m a badass if I came home all banged up. What’s the name of the gym?”
Hell no. He didn’t want his brother knowing how he escaped his demons. Fighting and beating on a man until all his anger was spent, only to be replenished a few weeks later and the cycle would continue.
Fighting, fucking, fighting, fucking…
“My gym is over a half hour away, find something closer.”
Luke frowned and eyed him closely. Brennan felt like an asshole. His brother probably just wanted to hang out with him, and he was shooting him down. But he had no choice. “Yeah, maybe I will,” he said with a smile that looked fake.
“Guess what, Uncle Brennan? I’m going to Max’s for a sleepover next weekend!” Jack shouted, lightening things up. Thank fucking god.
“Sounds like fun, little man. What are you and your cousin going to do?”
“Eat junk, play games, watch movies!”
Brennan looked at his brother and asked, “Escaping for the weekend?”
“Yep, can’t wait,” Gabe said with a huge-assed grin. He put his arm around his fiancée’s shoulders, and she snuggled into him. The sight triggered an image, one which was strange. He had no idea why his thoughts were being highjacked by Anna, of her washing her hands in his kitchen sink… like she goddamned belonged there.
Chapter Three
Anna
It had been nonstop all day, which according to her coworkers, was unusual for this time of year. Yes, it was flu season, but Stone Harbor and the surrounding shore towns were cleared out by now, leaving only the locals. But Anna didn’t mind. X-raying potential fractures, swabbing kiddos for strep, administering flu shots, stitching up fingers. The pace reminded her of her past life, when she had been an ER doctor in Philadelphia’s University of Pennsylvania Hospital. At the time, she had needed it, thrived because of it. The adrenaline. It had made her feel alive.
But then one day a three-ye
ar-old boy had been rushed into the ER and her priorities began to shift. He and his mother had been in a car accident. Anna had fought like hell to save him, but his injuries had been too severe. She had lost other patients, many from car accidents, but none affected her like this little boy had. After she had called his time of death, she just stared at him, his tiny body. All she could see was her baby brother Tim. With his rusty color hair, a smattering of freckles across his button nose, they even looked alike.
Until that moment, Anna had thought she was happy with her life. She hadn’t considered having a family at that point. Her career, her not-so-serious boyfriend, at least in her mind, had been enough. After that day, though, she couldn’t get that kid out of her mind. It was as if he was trying to remind her of what was really important in life, what she was missing, failing to see.
And then she had received a phone call a couple weeks later. A woman who introduced herself as Mable Rothman, a nurse at Bayview Hospital, informed her that her father had recently been admitted. Even though Anna hadn’t spoken to her father in over a decade, she didn’t hesitate. She left work and hopped in her car. She couldn’t explain it, what made her press her foot on the gas and rush to see the man she had successfully shut out of her life.
Out of breath, she had reached his hospital door and froze. She peered in and her gaze landed on a frail sixty-one-year-old man. A lump had formed in her throat and she found the strength to breach the doorway and enter his room. With each step, his features came into view. His once thick brown hair had become thin and brittle. When he had turned and faced her, she didn’t encounter the vibrant blue eyes she had known and at one time loved. She didn’t recognize him. This wasn’t the charming, self-confident man from her childhood, the man everyone adored. He didn’t speak. Instead, he just looked at her for a long time before his eyes welled with tears. And then he drifted off to sleep.
