I Dare You!

by Farrah Rochon

  “So you traded the bitter cold for scorching Louisiana summers.”

  He shrugged. “Louisiana just has a lot more to offer—good food, great fishing, and as I recently discovered, some of the sexiest ER nurses you will ever find.”

  Stef could feel the blush climbing up her cheeks. “You are an impossible flirt. I don’t know how people put up with you.”

  “And yet here you are, putting up with me. Why is that?”

  Why? Was that really a question? Why wouldn’t she want to spend her day enjoying a gorgeous man’s flattery?

  “I’ll tell you why,” Dustin continued, his body closing in on hers. “It’s because underneath that ponytail and those shorts that are too damn long, a part of you likes it. Admit it, Stefanie. It’s that same part of you that was ready to have a one-night stand with me on Friday.”

  Heat flooded her bloodstream, but Stef refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he read her so accurately. She folded her arms across her chest and jutted her chin in the air. “I didn’t go through with it.”

  He pressed his lips against her ear, and whispered, “But you wanted to.”

  Oh yes.

  Her body mourned the loss of what she could have experienced if only she had remained in his room. Any man who could be so in tune to what she was thinking would be that much more perceptive to what her body needed.

  Stef knew she would question the wisdom of not allowing him free rein over her body for a long, long time to come.

  “You don’t have to admit you like me,” Dustin said. “It’ll just make me work harder to prove it.”

  “I never said I didn’t like you.”

  “But you still won’t see me after today?”

  She hated to hurt him, but if it took saying it in no uncertain terms to finally get the point across, that’s what she had to do.

  “That’s right,” Stef said. “I won’t see you after today.

  Chapter Three

  Dustin drummed his pen against the stack of papers crowding his desk as he reread the latest e-mail from Global Offshore Drilling. It had arrived in his inbox while he and Stefanie were traipsing around Grand Turk in a dune buggy. He’d read and reread it in the five days since they’d flown back to Louisiana, but had yet to respond.

  Global wasn’t the first company to offer to buy him out, but they sure as hell were the most aggressive. At first the e-mails would pop up every couple of months. Then they started coming monthly and finally weekly, until they were getting harder to ignore. The latest e-mail came complete with bullet points, laying out everything that he would gain if he finally caved to the pressure the bigger company had been exerting on him to sell.

  Unlike the previous offers, this one included something extra—a deadline. Global wanted an answer in thirty days or they would seek out another “viable shuttle service to add to their offshore drilling outfit.”

  Thirty days.

  He had less than a month to decide whether to keep the dream he’d built out of nothing or sell his business, acquiring in a single transaction enough money to last him a lifetime.

  The money doesn’t matter.

  At least, that’s what Dustin kept repeating over and over in his head. Maybe if he said it enough he could ignore the trail of zeros in Global’s e-mail. The company had upped their previous bid by more than twelve percent, bringing it to a cool eighty million dollars.

  It was one reason why Dustin had studied this e-mail so much longer than the others. After a while, he’d started deleting the messages as soon as they hit his inbox, but this time Global’s lawyer had been cagey enough to put the dollar figure in the subject line. Eighty million dollars was enough to give anybody pause.

  It held even greater significance for him because it was the perfect revenge.

  Selling Hawk Transpo for eighty million would prove that he was a success to all those people who only equated success with dollar signs, like his two older brothers. He shouldn’t have to prove anything to them, but dammit, he wanted to.

  Dustin had always gotten off on doing the impossible, on proving people wrong, especially Sidney and Sean, his bigger, badder older brothers. Neither thought their scrawny book-nerd younger brother, with an IQ outside of this stratosphere, could make it as a navy pilot, but for six years Dustin kicked ass and took names in that Hawkeye.

  Once he left the navy, in his siblings’ minds, it was a foregone conclusion that he would get a desk job in some nice, safe glass-and-concrete skyscraper, or—as his mother had hoped—go back to school to become a professor. Everyone was so certain that he’d gotten this crazy need to fly out of his system. No more planes or helicopters for Dustin.

  So, what had he done? He’d bought a fleet of them. With a few savvy investments and a bit of luck, he’d turned his small idea into one of the fastest-growing shuttle services in the oil and gas industry.

  He just had not anticipated how fast Hawk Transpo would grow, or that the more successful the company became, the less he would enjoy coming in to work every day.

  That had been the biggest shocker in all of this. It wasn’t until he realized that he was spending most of his days and much of his nights negotiating contracts, catching up on the latest health and safety regulations, and mitigating the everyday crises that tended to pop up that Dustin recognized that he was no longer having fun.

  He knew better than to think of life as one big party, but he’d never intended to spend all of his time stuck behind a desk. He’d become jealous of his own pilots. They were the ones who saw all the action. The most action he saw was a quick flight to some oil company’s downtown headquarters.

  Which was why he should welcome the fact that companies like Global Offshore Drilling were breathing down his neck. They could take away the burdens that continued to weigh him down, burdens he hadn’t anticipated when he’d started on this adventure. Not only that, the prospect of retiring at thirty-five years old with millions in the bank just could not be ignored.

  But he always came back to his employees and the commitment he’d made to them. Hawk Transpo had a purpose that went beyond just making money. He couldn’t sell out the ideals behind his business for easy cash.

  “But eighty mil?” Dustin turned away from the computer screen and scrubbed both hands down his face. He knew ignoring this issue wouldn’t make it go away. Even if he managed to hold off Global Offshore, it wouldn’t be long before another company started filling his in-box and voice mail with buyout offers.

  He guessed this is what people meant when they said they’ve become a victim of their own success.

  He picked up the other thick contract he’d needed to read over since before his trip to Grand Turk. He was close to sealing the deal with a drilling company out of Galveston that had just finished their third deep-water rig in the Gulf of Mexico. If this deal went as planned, he would be able to bring in two additional pilots—veterans of war who were making their way back into civilian life, like every other pilot on his staff.

  Better than anyone else, a fellow veteran understood the hardships of returning from a deployment. It wasn’t easy to slide back into civilian life, especially for those who did multiple tours. Finding rewarding work was even more difficult.

  Many companies were doing the right thing—actively seeking veterans to employ—but Dustin went beyond just seeking. He made it Hawk Transpo’s mission to hire veterans. Not only did he give them a job, but he provided whatever he could to help them succeed in other aspects of their lives. Mental health resources, relationship counseling, financial help by way of low-interest personal loans—whatever they needed.

  And that was the rub with Global Offshore Drilling—with any of the conglomerates that had shown interest in purchasing his company. How would he know if the new buyer would honor the pledge he’d made to support and employ veterans? How could he know if they would continue providing these much-needed services that he made a priority?

  If he sold, Dustin would have zero say in
how the company operated. Was eighty million dollars in his own pocket and proving his brothers wrong, worth it if it meant his employees—men and women who were like family to him—might suffer because of him?

  With a frustrated curse, Dustin tossed the contract on his desk. Thinking about this shit was giving him a headache.

  He knew he couldn’t continue putting this stuff off indefinitely. But I don’t have to do it right now.

  If he were going to give himself heartburn, he’d much prefer it be at the hands of a certain ER nurse who had made a sport out of evading him.

  Dustin grabbed his cellphone. He knew full well he was setting himself up for more disappointment, but that hadn’t stopped him the last ten times he’d texted Stefanie since they’d returned from the wedding.

  She’d lived up to her vow to avoid him. She hadn’t been nasty in her brush-offs, had even included a couple of smiley faces in her texts. But a rejection accompanied by a smiley face was still a rejection, and each rebuff just compelled Dustin to try harder.

  He tapped the phone against his lips, contemplating which tactic he would try today. A grin broke out over his face as he pounded out a message:

  Don’t mean to bother you. Just wanted to know if you could tell me where I could get a fried banana and peanut butter sandwich.

  He pressed SEND and waited for a reply. And waited. And waited.

  The sinking feeling that was becoming all too familiar started to settle in his gut.

  Why was she giving him such a hard time? That there was chemistry between them was undeniable. Dustin wouldn’t be surprised if they had left burn marks in the sand near the lighthouse in Grand Turk, that’s just how electric the connection had been. Why was she so adamant that their time together be limited to those few days on the islands?

  Just as he set the phone back onto his desk it chimed with the arrival of a text.

  Sorry. Only know of my kitchen, and I only make fried PB and banana sandwiches for my favorite guy.

  Fireworks exploded in Dustin’s chest. This was the longest text he’d gotten from her since they’d returned to Louisiana.

  Aw. C’mon, Dustin typed. Jacob wouldn’t mind you sharing his fave food with me.

  A full minute passed before she responded. I’m working. Make your own sandwich.

  I need you to show me how to do it.

  Now I get it. That’s why you and Stefan are such good friends. Both helpless in the kitchen.

  She had him smiling so hard his damn cheeks hurt.

  Dustin’s thumbs flew across the touchscreen. I’m willing to take your abuse because I really want that sandwich. I can wait until your shift ends.

  This time the reply was instant. I get off in a half-hour.

  He had to stop himself from replying in all caps. Great! See you soon!

  Dustin hopped up from behind his desk so fast he sent the chair sailing into the wall behind him. He stopped at Jaycee Miller’s desk just long enough to let his self-described receptionist, office manager, and all-around rock star know that he was leaving for the day.

  Dustin took the stairs two at a time, reaching the landing pad on the roof of the fifty-thousand-square-foot warehouse he’d purchased in Belle Chase eighteen months ago. He jumped into the R22 Beta two-seater helicopter, one of three that he kept for quick flights, and twenty minutes later landed at the remote end of the parking lot at Maplesville General Hospital.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  “What are you smiling about?”

  Stefanie looked up from the open gash she was cleaning to find the charge nurse, Angelica Reynolds, standing just inside the exam room’s curtained area.

  “What was that?” Stef asked.

  “I don’t know about you,” Angelica said as she sauntered toward her. “But debriding a wound usually doesn’t put a smile on my face. I wanna know what’s put this one on yours.”

  Stef rolled her eyes, but as much as she tried to fight it she couldn’t prevent the smile from climbing across her lips again. “Can’t a person just smile?”

  “Nope.” Angelica snapped on a pair of latex gloves and bumped Stef with her hip. “Get out of here. You’re off duty.”

  “That’s okay. I can finish this up.”

  The charge nurse hit her with one of her lethal stares.

  “Okay, okay.” Stef’s hands shot up in surrender. “You don’t have to tell me twice. The wound is yours.” She turned to the patient. “Remember what I said, Darius, if you’re going to hike in those woods, you have to be careful of hunting traps. This could have ended much worse for you.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the high schooler answered.

  Stef set the surgical scissors on the tray and thanked Angelica again before heading to her locker to change out of her nursing scrubs. She tried her best to ignore the heightened anticipation humming through her belly as she pulled the fitted t-shirt over her head and zipped up her snug dark-blue jeans. She’d bought both during an impromptu lunch stop at the outlet mall.

  Stef closed her locker and leaned her head against it.

  What was she doing? She knew better than this. Encouraging Dustin was akin to letting a caged tiger loose in her world. But he wasn’t the tiger—she was. He called to that part of her she’d tried so hard to suppress. He stoked that banked fire within her, seducing the inner wild child who had nearly cost her everything she’d held dear.

  She’d given herself those few days with him in Turks and Caicos. That should have been the end of it. But for the past five days, Stef had been hard-pressed to think of anything but him.

  So she told herself that she would give him these remaining two weeks until Jacob returned from his grandparents. Once her son was back at home, she would go back to being the responsible adult she’d cultivated over this past decade.

  As for now, she would enjoy this exciting man who’d come into her life.

  She spun the combination on her lock, and after a quick glance in the mirror to swipe on lip gloss and tighten her ponytail holder, she headed out of the employee locker room.

  “You’re still smiling,” Angelica said as Stef passed her in the corridor.

  She secretly enjoyed the fact that she was driving her nosy co-workers crazy with her odd behavior. They were not used to seeing this side of her.

  It’s not as if she always walked around with a frown on her face, but it was common knowledge that she’d had very little to smile about this past year—these past couple of years really.

  Losing her husband unexpectedly in a car accident had tilted her world off its axis. Being called to serve a six-month tour in Afghanistan not even a year later had further rumbled the shaky ground she’d been standing on. If not for the sheer joy Jacob brought to her life simply by existing, and the steadiness she found in her job here at Maplesville General, she wouldn’t have had anything at all to smile about.

  That had changed over the course of this past week. She’d found herself grinning often since she returned from Grand Turk. Just the thought that she would soon see the man who’d given her a new reason to smile made her skin tingle in anticipation.

  She had just rounded the hallway toward the ER’s exit when the automatic doors opened and Dustin walked through them. Dark aviator sunglasses shaded his eyes, and sexiness dripped off of him like he’d cornered the market on male hotness. Her steps faltered as he strode toward her looking like a Hollywood actor in an action/adventure film.

  “Perfect timing,” he said. His eyes coasted from the top of her head to her toes. “Damn, you look amazing. Has it really been less than a week since I last saw you?”

  Two seconds and he was already flirting.

  “How did you get here so quickly?” Stef asked.

  His shoulders lifted in a casual shrug as he hooked the sunglasses to the collar of his black polo shirt. “Helicopter.”

  “You actually flew here from Belle Chase? Who travels by helicopter?”

  Another shrug. “A guy who owns a fleet of them. I hate being on the roa
d with people who are too busy checking their Facebook statuses to watch where they’re going. Birds are so much easier to deal with.”

  Her lips tilted in a grin. “I guess you don’t have to worry about birds using Facebook.”

  “Nah, they use Twitter.” He winked. “Get it?”

  Her loud crack of laughter turned several heads in the ER waiting room. “What am I going to do with you?”

  The gleam in his eyes was so wicked it made her face heat. “I have so many suggestions,” he said, his voice dropping several octaves. “However, you can start out by feeding me a peanut butter and banana sandwich. We can talk about those other ideas once we’ve both had a little sustenance.”

  Shivers shuttled down her spine as a throng of naughty thoughts flooded her brain. She could only imagine the kind of ideas he would suggest. The man was trouble—the most incredibly perfect kind of trouble.

  “So… about that sandwich?” he asked, dangling his keys.

  “It’s probably better that we take my car,” Stef said. “You’d look kind of silly filing a flight plan to my house.”

  His eyes flashed with amusement. “As long as I’m not flying in restricted airspace I don’t have to file a flight plan. We won’t break any laws by taking my ride.”

  “Ah, well, my driveway isn’t big enough to park your ride.”

  “But just think of how cool a helicopter would make you look to all your neighbors. Mad street cred.”

  Laughing again—it was truly amazing how easily he made her do that—Stef caught him by the wrist and tugged him out the door to her metallic blue Chevy Traverse. As they made the short ten-minute drive to the cozy home she and Brandon bought when they moved to Maplesville, Stef tried her hardest to squelch the combination of fear, excitement, and exhilaration churning in her stomach.

  This was only until Jacob returned. She was having a little fun. There was nothing wrong with having a little fun, was there?

  Dread seeped up her throat as she remembered the last time she’d said those words.

  But she wasn’t going back to being that girl again. She had more self-control than she’d had back in her wild and reckless days. She could let her hair down and enjoy this time with Dustin, and when it came time to end it, she would end it.