Baby, Don't Go

by Stephanie Bond

  “Er…no.” She’d been dragging her feet over completing employee forms because she’d have to fudge her information.

  “I’ll show you now,” he said, heading toward the tiny office adjacent to the kitchen. “Since everyone else has worked here at one time or another, they’re already in the system. This way you’ll know how to add future employees.”

  She bit her tongue to keep from saying she wouldn’t be here long enough to learn the ins and outs of the payroll system. “Okay.”

  Her pulse was still jumping when she followed him into the cubbyhole where he turned on the notebook computer sitting on the desk.

  “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the lone chair on wheels. She sat, very aware of his big physique in the close quarters. The demonstration with the fire extinguisher had fueled her imagination. There was something primal about the sheer size of him and how her body responded to being around him.

  “Are you comfortable working on a computer?” he asked, pulling out a drawer of a file cabinet.

  Alicia almost laughed. Between her smartphone, her laptop and her desktop computer, she was wired 24/7. “I can usually figure things out.”

  He nodded idly and withdrew a folder, then scanned the contents. He pulled out a form and frowned. “You didn’t complete your W-4 withholding form.”

  “I must have been interrupted,” she said, stalling. “And I didn’t know what mailing address to use.” Plus she didn’t intend to sign a government form swearing to information that wasn’t accurate.

  “You can designate General Delivery and pick up your mail at the postal counter inside the General Store unless you want to get your own P.O. box.” He stepped behind her chair and leaned down to point to an icon on the screen. “Open this program.”

  She didn’t have to fake her klutzy navigation—his body was practically enveloping hers, sending little shudders all along her shoulders. He, on the other hand, didn’t seem to notice they were practically touching. His warm breath on her neck was calm and steady.

  She opened the program and, at the sign-in screen, typed in the user ID he’d assigned to the manager of the diner.

  “Who did I replace?” she asked.

  “A woman named Molly McIntyre.”

  “Why did you fire her?”

  “I didn’t—she quit.”

  She remembered the stocky woman who had brushed by her the day she’d walked in, the same woman who’d been in the diner earlier today when Marcus had taken a fall.

  “You can reset the password to something private,” he suggested.

  Since he was looking over her W-4 form and not focused on her fingers, she typed in the word “undercover” as her password. He set her form on the desk next to the computer, presumably for her to finish filling out.

  When a menu came up, he walked her through how to add herself to the payroll system. As she typed in the alias last name of “Waters,” she told herself she was only adopting a persona that would allow her to get the story. No harm, no foul. When she filled in her social security number, she transposed the last two digits.

  “Is everything accurate?” he asked, scanning the info on the screen.

  She nodded, partially because she didn’t want to verbalize a lie, and partially because his nearness was seriously starting to unnerve her. She hit the submit button, then he showed her how to enter employee hours. The food ordering system was next, including how to track inventory of food harvested from the garden. Throughout, her heart beat at an accelerated rate. At one point, he reached around her to type something on the keyboard and his large hands brushed hers. She didn’t mind, but he seemed to.

  “Sorry,” he said, pulling back. “I didn’t mean to crowd you.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, reminding herself that she was supposed to be cozying up to him. “I have to admit I’m surprised you’re so adept on a computer.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you don’t seem like the kind of man who spends a lot of time behind a desk.”

  “I’m behind a desk more than I’d like,” he said, his voice suddenly weary.

  “I guess starting your own town takes a lot of organization.”

  His nod told her that was an understatement of gigantic proportions.

  “What happens if the Department of Energy inspector doesn’t like what he sees here at the diner?”

  He looked thoughtful. “It’s more of an inspection of the entire town, although last time around the diner was the weak link. And this is just an interim inspection leading up to the final inspection six months from now. In order to receive our final funding and to maintain ownership of the property that makes up the city limits, the D.O.E. has to be satisfied we’re covering the basic needs of the townspeople in a way that’s good for the environment.”

  “Your carbon footprint and all of that stuff?” she asked, playing dumb.

  He seemed to check himself. “Right.” Then he looked back to the screen.

  She felt a pang of disappointment because for a few seconds there, Marcus Armstrong seemed like a different man. But obviously he didn’t want to share too much…because something strange was going on in Sweetness?

  “You must’ve had trouble getting people to come here,” she said. “A couple of the women told me they answered a newspaper ad?”

  He frowned. “Not my idea.”

  “You didn’t want to run the ad?”

  His mouth tightened. “That’s right.”

  Alicia gave him a little smile. “Someone told me you don’t like women.”

  He jerked upright, then pain flashed across his rugged face…and didn’t subside. A guttural groan escaped him, and Alicia could tell from the way he was frozen that it was bad. She stood and reached for him, but he lifted his hand.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  She frowned. “I’m just trying to help.”

  “Give me a minute,” he said, gasping.

  “Here, sit down,” she said, rolling the desk chair until it was positioned behind him.

  Gingerly he lowered himself, then cursed when his back caught again. He fell into the chair heavily.

  “You need to see a doctor,” she said. “Otherwise, your back is only going to get worse.”

  He gritted his teeth, his face a mask of agony. After a few seconds, though, he nodded in concession, a testament, she realized, to how much pain he was in.

  But when he tried to stand, it was apparent he wasn’t going to be able to reach a vertical position…or walk if he somehow even managed to get up.

  “I’ll call the clinic and have them send an ambulance,” she said.

  “Clinic…doesn’t have…ambulance,” he ground out.

  “Surely they have someone who can bring a stretcher.”

  “I can make it,” he insisted, which was laughable.

  Alicia assessed the situation. He was sitting in a sturdy chair…with wheels…and the sidewalks between here and the clinic were new. She made a split-second decision and stepped behind the chair.

  “What are you doing?” He was still gasping.

  “Taking you to the clinic,” she said, then gave the chair a push and guided it toward the door.

  “You’re crazy!” he muttered.

  “Hang on, boss.”

  10

  Marcus was incredulous. It was broad daylight and the sidewalks of Sweetness were relatively crowded with Saturday foot traffic.

  And Alicia Waters was wheeling him toward the clinic in an office chair at breakneck speed.

  “Excuse us!” she shouted. “Out of the way! Injured man coming through!”

  People and pets were jumping aside, then cheering them on.

  “Hey, that looks fun!” one kid shouted.

  He was thoroughly appalled. If he hadn’t been in so much agony, he would’ve thrown himself from the damn chair. But at this speed, he was afraid he’d injure his back further. So he hung on to the arm-rests for dear life, biting back curses.

  Damn the fool
woman and her endless shenanigans. Alicia Waters was going to be the death of him.

  Literally.

  “Slow down!” he bellowed.

  “I can’t,” she shouted in his ear. “Besides, we’re almost there,” she added as the sign for the clinic came into view.

  He was holding his body rigid to withstand the jostling, and bracing himself for the grief he was sure to get from his brothers when they heard about this stunt.

  Thank goodness the clinic had automatic sliding doors, or she might’ve sent him sailing through the plate glass. They rolled into the lobby of the clinic where patients waited to see the two doctors and to pick up prescriptions from the pharmacy. No surprise, everyone turned to stare. The first person Marcus saw was Porter, who was undoubtedly there to see Nikki.

  Great.

  Porter gaped as Alicia pushed Marcus past him, banking on two wheels before coming to a stop at the reception desk where Susan Sosa sat.

  “Hi,” Alicia said.

  “Hello,” Susan said, casting a wary glance at the couple.

  “His back is hurt,” Alicia said. “He needs to see a doctor right away.”

  “I can speak for myself,” Marcus bit out.

  Both women turned to look at him.

  He sighed. “My back is hurt. I need to see a doctor…right away.”

  Susan picked up the phone. “I’ll see who’s available. On a scale of one to ten, how bad is the pain?”

  “Twelve,” Marcus managed between clenched teeth.

  By that time, Porter had walked over, his mouth stretched into a grin. “What’s this?”

  “Go away,” Marcus said, glaring.

  “His back got worse,” Alicia said, as if she were his spokesperson. “He couldn’t stand or walk.”

  Porter pulled on his chin, obviously amused. “So you rolled him down here all the way from the diner?”

  “Shut up,” Marcus said to Porter.

  “Yes, I did,” Alicia supplied.

  Marcus grunted. “If you tell Kendall, you’re finished.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Porter said. “I’m not going to tell him.” He held up his phone. A click sounded, followed by a flash. “A picture is worth a thousand words.” He was grinning as he hit a few buttons, most certainly sending the impromptu photo of Marcus in the chair to Kendall.

  Marcus felt murderous.

  “Dr. Salinger said to come on back,” Susan announced, setting down the phone receiver. She gestured to the chair. “Do you need a push or something?”

  “Just point me in the right direction,” Alicia said. Susan pointed.

  “Think I’ll come, too,” Porter sang.

  If Marcus could’ve gotten out of the chair, he would’ve boxed his brother’s ears. But at this point, he just wanted to be out of pain.

  As far as the woman pushing him…

  Marcus remembered how his body had reacted to their close encounters at the diner, how his hands had fairly trembled when he’d shown her how to use the fire extinguisher, how good her hair smelled when he leaned over her in the office, and the enticing view of her cleavage from that angle.

  Not that he had to use his imagination there, he reminded himself wryly. Before the vision of her bathing in the creek could once again take root in his mind, he shook himself. Which made his back spasm. He sucked in a sharp breath against the pain and irritation ballooned in his chest. It was her fault he was in this damn chair in the first place.

  Marcus seethed. He was starting to wish he’d never set eyes on Alicia Waters—naked or otherwise.

  Alicia could feel the anger rolling off Marcus as she pushed the chair down a hallway toward a woman wearing a white lab coat. Stubborn man—what else could she have done?

  When the doctor saw the chair, her eyes flew wide, but she bit back a smile. “Bring him in here. Porter, I’ll need your help to get him on a table.”

  Porter took over for Alicia as chair operator. The doctor looked at Alicia and smiled. “Hello. I’m Dr. Nikki Salinger.”

  “Alicia R— Er, Waters,” she said, then coughed to cover her gaffe. “I manage the diner.”

  “Nice to meet you. What happened?”

  “He slipped and fell in the diner earlier today. He kept lifting and working and it got worse, until he couldn’t stand or walk.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my mouth,” Marcus grumbled from the chair.

  Nikki gave a little laugh. “I can see that. What caused your fall, Marcus?”

  His mouth tightened. “Fire extinguisher foam.”

  Alicia’s cheeks warmed. “It was sort of my fault,” she whispered to the doctor. “I feel terrible.”

  Nikki gave her a sympathetic look. “It’s good that you made him come in.”

  “She didn’t make me,” Marcus snapped, then winced.

  “I made him,” Alicia confirmed.

  “You can leave now,” Marcus said.

  “Won’t you need a ride back?” Alicia asked.

  Porter guffawed.

  “Not in this chair,” Marcus said, his tone low and lethal.

  “I’ll take him wherever he needs to go,” Porter assured her.

  Alicia nodded. “Then I’ll at least wait and take the chair back with me.”

  “Marcus,” Nikki said, “do you think you can stand if we help you?”

  He nodded.

  Alicia held the chair while Porter and Dr. Salinger helped him to his feet a few painful inches at a time. Getting to the table was another exercise in grunts and gasps. At last his big, long body was settled on an exam table. A sheen of sweat covered his face that was red from exertion. He was taking shallow breaths in an attempt to remain as still as possible. Guilt spurred Alicia forward—she was supposed to be trying to get close to this man, after all. She stepped to his side and lifted the edge of the apron she still wore to press it against his forehead and cheek. Even with the thin layer of fabric between them, touching him was electric.

  He seemed as startled as she. “I said you could leave now.” But his voice wasn’t as gruff as his expression.

  “You’re welcome,” she said pointedly.

  “Thanks…for putting me here!”

  She smiled. Having him hate her was better than having him ignore her. “See you later, boss.”

  She looked up to find Porter and Nikki staring at her. She addressed the doctor. “Anything else I can do?”

  “Um…no,” Dr. Salinger said. “I need to get a syringe, so I’ll step out in the hall with you.”

  Alicia pushed the empty chair through the door and into the hallway. Dr. Salinger followed her, then indicated she was going in the opposite direction.

  “Alicia, I assume you’re staying at the boardinghouse?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Would you like to join a group of us for dinner tonight in the rear great room?”

  Alicia nodded, happy for the chance to talk to more people. “What time, and can I bring something?”

  “Seven, and not this time.”

  “Okay, thanks. See you then.” Alicia’s instinct was to like the woman, but she had to wonder what would bring a young female doctor to such a rural town. Her general impression of the women living in Sweetness was that they’d come because they had few options.

  This certainly wouldn’t be a place she’d choose to live.

  She rolled the chair back to the lobby. Susan Sosa looked up from her desk. “Is everything okay, Alicia?”

  “I hope so,” Alicia said cheerfully. She and Susan had spoken just this morning in the diner, but work had kept her from getting much information out of the woman other than the fact that she was in the diner hoping to run into a certain gentleman.

  “Did your fellow show this morning?”

  “Kenny?” Susan looked disappointed and shook her head. “Maybe tomorrow.”

  Alicia felt a pang for the woman. “Does this Kenny know you’re interested?”

  Susan shrugged. “I’ve dropped enough hints.”
/>   “How long have you known him?”

  “I met him when I was working for Dr. Salinger before the clinic was built. The workers didn’t cotton to seeing a lady doc, so Porter paid some of the men to come with made up ailments, and Kenny was one of them.” She looked dreamy. “He had an ingrown toenail. I thought he was so cute.”

  Alicia pursed her mouth. “Sounds…appealing. The Armstrongs had to pay men to see a female doctor?”

  “Yeah. But it all worked out. And now Dr. Salinger and Porter are a couple.”

  Ah. “But they’re not married?”

  “Right.”

  The phone rang and Susan excused herself to answer it. Alicia started to turn away when something on the desk caught her eye.

  Among the selection of magazines for patients to read while they were waiting was the current copy of Feminine Power.

  Her heart jumped to her throat. Who in this podunk town read Feminine Power? She casually picked up the magazine. The name on the subscription label read “Rachel Hutchins.” She hadn’t met the woman, but she would need to be on her guard. She didn’t want to be recognized and her cover blown before she got her story.

  Big, sexy Marcus Armstrong had reacted so violently to her comment that he didn’t like women, he’d thrown out his back.

  No, she wasn’t ready to leave Sweetness just yet.

  She looked all around to make sure no one was watching her, then rolled up the magazine and stuck it under her arm. Then she wheeled the chair out the door into the intense heat and turned in the direction of the diner. Along the way, people grinned and gave her a thumbs up. Apparently word had spread about her wheeling Marcus Armstrong down the street.

  And apparently, it had been high entertainment.

  This place really was like an alternate universe. Maybe she could get another blog entry to Nina before dinner…

  “This is good stuff,” Nina said. “Sweetness sounds like something out of a time warp.”

  “It is,” Alicia agreed. “It’s a strange dichotomy because their agenda seems progressive and the town is technologically connected to the rest of the world, yet everyone seems content to exist in relative isolation.”

  “They have a pet deer named Cupid living in the boardinghouse?”