Heart And Soul: A Small Town Fake Relationship Romance (Angel Sands Book 8)

by Carrie Elks

  “Are you going to start lying to us as well?” Her dad’s voice rose up. “We brought you up better than that.”

  “Is everything okay?” Rich came to a halt beside them, his arms folded firmly in front of his scrub-covered chest. His bicep muscles bulged as he looked at her father with a frown. “Is there something you need to talk about, Mr. Hart?”

  He was so close that she could feel the warmth radiating from his arms, making her own skin heat up.

  “I was just discussing my granddaughter’s safety.” Her dad’s eyes were like flint. “I don’t like the sound of this beach. What kind of people leave broken glass laying around?”

  “The beach is perfectly safe.” Rich’s voice was firm. “It was an unfortunate accident.” He glanced at Meghan, his eyes soft. “Nobody was to blame. And Isla is perfectly fine. She’ll heal in no time. The nurse is just finishing up and getting her set with crutches. If you’d like, you can go in and help your granddaughter get ready to leave.”

  Meghan’s dad nodded. “Yes. I’d like to make sure she’s okay.”

  He went back inside the consult room, leaving Meghan next to Rich.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, his head tipping to the side. The sympathy on his face made her want to melt into the floor.

  “I’m fine. My parents are just a little…” She inhaled sharply. “Over protective.”

  “I got that impression.” He shifted his feet, a half-smile playing on his lips. His eyes were clear, observant as he looked at her, taking everything in. For a moment there was silence, but it felt loaded.

  “And now you probably know why I moved to Angel Sands.” She lifted her brows. This was so damn embarrassing, but he was making it easier for her.

  He shrugged. “It’s none of my business why you moved here. As long as you and my patient are okay, then I’m happy.”

  “We’re fine.” She said it firmly, but with a smile. Did he have to be so sweet?

  His lips twitched, as though he could hear her internal thoughts. “Good. Now go home and get some rest. You look shattered.”

  “It’s been a long day.” She blew out a mouthful of air.

  “I know.” He inclined his head at the door her father had walked through. “You want me to get rid of him for you? I can call security.”

  She could imagine the fuss. “It’s fine. He won’t stay long. They have dinner at six on Sundays, and he’d never miss that. I’ll let him fuss over Isla for a while and then he’ll leave. He’s not dangerous or anything. Just…”

  “Annoying.”

  Biting down a laugh, she gave him a nod. “I guess you see every kind of person come through these doors.”

  “We do. But at the end of the day the patient is always my number one concern. And when a child is involved, the patient includes their parents. So one word from you, and he’s gone.”

  “I get it. Thank you.”

  “Dr. Martin? We have an ambulance coming in. Code four.” The assistant was breathless, as though she’d been running.

  “I’ve got to go.” Rich gave Meghan a final look.

  “Thank you for everything.”

  He blinked, his thick lashes sweeping down. “It’s a pleasure. Call me if you need anything.”

  She didn’t have his number, but she nodded anyway. He spun on his heels, rushing through a door marked ‘staff only’, the blur of his green scrubs disappearing as it swung closed.

  Taking a deep breath, Meghan turned and pushed at the door to the consult room, ready to take her daughter home.

  7

  It was almost nine by the time Rich walked out of the elevator on the floor of his apartment later that evening. He’d been working for fourteen hours straight, and every muscle in his body ached. All he wanted to do was collapse into bed and let nothingness overtake him, but his brain was too wired to sleep right now.

  He glanced at Meghan’s door. Was it too late to knock and check on Isla? He was annoyed with himself because he hadn’t gotten her number.

  Why do you need her number, you idiot?

  Damn, that sounded like Belle’s voice again. And he needed her number because he wanted to check on Isla, that was all.

  Not because he wanted to hear her voice. Or because whenever he got a moment to breathe during his shift, he’d close his eyes and see her behind them.

  Rolling his eyes, he laughed at himself. It really had been a long day. Whatever. He knocked softly at her door, and was surprised when she opened it almost immediately.

  “Hey. Have you just finished work?” she asked.

  There was a huge smile on her face, as though she was delighted to see him. It made his chest do something weird. When was the last time anybody smiled at him like that?

  “Yeah. Had to stay on for a while to finish something up.” He didn’t want to talk about the paperwork. “How’s Isla?”

  “She’s doing great. Fell asleep early for once. I guess it was all the excitement of her day. She spent about an hour parading up and down with her crutches for Gloria to see. I’ve never seen her so excited to go to school in the morning.” She opened the door a little wider. His gaze dipped, taking in her tight white tank and grey yoga pants. Everything about her looked so soft. So touchable. Christ, he needed to get ahold of himself. She was his neighbor. He wanted her to stay that way.

  “You want to come in?” she asked, inclining her head at her apartment.

  “Won’t I wake Isla up?”

  “A ten ton blast wouldn’t wake Isla up tonight.” She walked into her living room, and he followed, closing her door behind him. Her apartment was smaller than his, and without the ocean view, but it felt warm and welcoming. There were pretty throws on the sofa and chairs, with plump cushions that invited you in. The surfaces were scattered with photographs of Isla, as a baby, a toddler, and at school. He picked one up, studying a younger looking Meghan cradling a tiny Isla to her chest.

  “How old were you when you had Isla?” he asked.

  “Twenty-one. I’d just finished college when I got pregnant.” She didn’t seem upset at his question.

  “And you did it all by yourself?”

  A smile ghosted her lips. “Pretty much. Her father wasn’t interested and my parents were difficult.”

  He bet they were. “Parents can be that way sometimes.”

  “What are your parents like?”

  “They died when I was nineteen.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “No need to apologize. It was a long time ago.”

  She gave him a soft smile. “I know from experience that time doesn’t heal all wounds.”

  “What’s that?” he asked, looking over at the kitchen. “Are you cooking?”

  “I’m playing with a new flavor.” She smiled shyly, as though embarrassed that she’d brought her work home. “Lemon and thyme vegan ice cream made with coconut milk. It sounds disgusting, but it tastes fantastic. You want to try some?”

  His stomach gurgled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten all day. “Hit me with it.”

  She put three scoops into the bowl and grabbed a spoon from the drawer, sliding it across the breakfast bar to him. His stomach cramped again as he lifted a spoonful into his mouth, and dear god, how good did that taste.

  He scooped up another spoonful, then another, and within a minute the bowl was empty. “That’s fucking fantastic.”

  Her eyes darted to Isla’s room, before looking at him again.

  “Sorry, I mean that’s fantastic.”

  She laughed. “Don’t worry. When she was little I dropped a plate on my foot and cursed so much she started copying me. Imagine trying to teach a two year old not to say the ‘f’ word. So now I keep it PG.”

  “Understood.” His nod was serious. “If I promise not to swear again, can I have another bowl?”

  She lifted the box of frozen ice cream toward him, and ran the scoop through the surface, her tank lifting up to reveal the merest sliver of skin.
His body froze as he imagined kissing her soft stomach.

  Dear god, he really needed to get laid. Before he embarrassed himself and her.

  His stomach growled loudly as she passed him the bowl, making her laugh. “Are you hungry?”

  “I didn’t get a chance to eat.”

  “I could make you something,” she offered. “Since Isla and I are part of the reason you were so busy.”

  “It’s fine. I’ll grab something from the freezer. Or call for a pizza.”

  “Did the ER get worse after we left?” she asked him, leaning on the counter, her chin propped on her open palm.

  “We had an MVA come in. The patient was in a bad way.” He breathed out softly. “We lost her.”

  “MVA?”

  “Motor vehicle accident.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her voice was gentle. She reached out to put her hand on his, and it made his chest do that weird thing again. He felt better and worse. Better, because saying it out loud somehow lessened the pressure in his brain. And worse, because all he wanted to do was pull her toward him and kiss the hell out of her.

  Bury himself in her until he forgot what happened in the hospital today. He wanted to touch her, to taste her, to trace lines with his lips from that enticing dip at the bottom of her throat, down her chest, her abdomen, to where she was the very softest she could be.

  “Can I do anything?” she asked, and he realized how silent he’d been. He hoped to hell she couldn’t read his mind.

  Rich shook his head. “I’ll be okay. I just hate losing a patient, you know?”

  She nodded. “I can get that.” The kindness in her eyes told him she really could. And it helped, it did.

  Even if half his brain was thinking about her in completely the wrong way. It was the loss that made him feel that way. The need to feel alive again, to forget the past and only be in the present.

  Nothing did that the way sex could.

  And sex with his neighbor was a really bad idea. Not just because she lived so close – though that was bad enough. But because he liked her. Too much to mess her life up the way he knew he would if he touched her.

  “Maybe another bowl of ice cream?” he asked, pulling himself out of his damn brain.

  She smiled. “Why don’t you take the tub? That way you can have enough ice cream for the week.”

  “Don’t you need it?”

  “I’m just playing around. I’ll make more before I get the recipe exactly right. Seriously, take it. But remember to take it out of the freezer about ten minutes before you want to eat it. That way it’ll be the right consistency.”

  “Ten minutes. Got it.” He knew he didn’t have that much willpower.

  “You’re not going to wait that long, are you?” Her eyes danced with amusement.

  “Nope.”

  She laughed. “Well, it’s your teeth that’ll suffer. I hope you have a good dentist.”

  “It’ll be worth it to taste this stuff.” He took the tub and winked at her, in spite of himself. Her grin was so damn pretty, it made him want to kiss her.

  Which was precisely why he stepped back, still clutching the tub, and told her he should get home.

  Before he did something stupid, like kiss her.

  “Thanks again for all you did today. You’re Isla’s favorite person right now,” Meghan said, as he walked toward the door. “I think you have a new fan girl.”

  “It’s a pleasure.” He could deal with Isla. It was her mother he was finding difficult. “Good night, Meghan.”

  “Good night.” She opened the door for him, and he stepped outside.

  “Make sure you lock up tight.”

  She gave him an amused glance. “You’re not my father.”

  No, he definitely wasn’t her father. But he was her neighbor. It would do him good to remember that.

  The next few days passed in the blink of an eye. He’d worked three night shifts in a row, which meant he’d have a nice four day break to rest and recuperate before starting on days the following week.

  Emergency medicine wasn’t like any other specialty in the hospital. Unlike his consultant friends, he didn’t build up relationships with patients, or get to see them from the first consultation to their recovery from whatever they were suffering from. Most of his patients were brought into the ER in severe pain, or unconscious, and it was his job to get them stable and admit them to wherever they needed to go. He didn’t get to find out if they recovered or not, or if their lives were enhanced by his interventions.

  He restarted hearts, diagnosed organ failures, reset bones, and stitched up wounds, and then did it all over again on a new bunch of patients.

  He hadn’t seen Meghan since that night after Isla’s accident, though he’d slipped a piece of paper with his number under her door when he’d gotten back from his first night shift, in case Isla needed any help. But she hadn’t messaged him, and he didn’t have her number to check in. And that was a good thing. They were neighbors, not best friends.

  On Thursday morning, at the end of his final shift, he was walking back to his car in the parking lot when he heard his name called out. His chest tightened as he saw Carlyn Monroe walking toward him, and he clicked his car open, ready to make his escape.

  “My shift is over,” he told her, his voice holding a warning. He didn’t have the energy or patience to deal with her right now. “If you’re in pain, go into the ER, somebody will help you.”

  “I’m not hurt.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, staring up at him. “I was just wondering if you’d heard?”

  “Heard what?” He was so over this now. James had told him he should take out a restraining order on her. Maybe he was right.

  Except Rich was partially to blame, wasn’t he? He’d taken her on two dates, after all.

  “That my gallery will be hosting your sister’s show. I’m so excited to work with her. She’s got amazing talent.” Carlyn’s lips curled up. “I guess that means we’ll be seeing much more of each other, too, right?”

  “Your gallery?” Rich blinked. He was completely unaware she owned a gallery in Angel Sands. He could barely remember what they’d talked about on their dates. They were months ago.

  Goddamn it, would she ever get out of his life? This new information felt like a punch in the face.

  And he didn’t even want to think about how she knew that Belle was his sister, because he was damn certain he’d never told her about that.

  “Will you be coming on Saturday?” Carlyn asked, unaware of the turmoil in his mind.

  “Where?” His voice was low. He was trying to swallow down the anger, but it wasn’t working.

  “To the gallery. Belle’s coming in to talk about the show. We’ll go through some of her ideas and think about placements and timings. It’d be so lovely to have you there. We could catch up on old times.”

  Shit, shit, shit. The thought of her being alone with his little sister made him want to hit something. “I’ll need to ask Belle. If she wants me to, I’ll be there.”

  Carlyn’s brows knitted. “Well, I’m sure she’d want your help. You should come.”

  “We’ll see.” He pressed his lips together. The last thing he wanted to do on his day off was go to Carlyn’s damn gallery. But if Belle needed his help he’d do it. That’s what big brothers did.

  White hot anger seared through his brain as his feet pounded the sand, his lungs screaming for relief as he pushed himself harder, faster, further. This was all his own damn fault. And he had no idea how to get out of the tangled web he’d woven for himself. He couldn’t take out a restraining order now without hurting Belle. She had her heart set on having her show in a gallery, and if he had a restraining order on Carlyn that wouldn’t happen.

  He’d called Belle as soon as he’d gotten home, and she’d loved the idea of him coming with her to the gallery.

  “I’d love you to come to the gallery with me. It’ll be fun.” She’d sounded so excited, he couldn’t bring himself to tell
her the truth about Carlyn.

  So yeah, he’d be going on Saturday despite his bad feelings.

  So what, you’re just going to let Carlyn think there’s a chance?

  He knew right away that dating her had been a mistake. Yes, she was pretty, and maybe she was a nice person, too. But there had been no pull between them. No attraction – on his side, at least. But he’d finished the meal and given her a ride home to make sure she got there safely, which had given her the wrong idea.

  She’d asked him to come inside, leaving him in no doubt that she was offering more than coffee.

  When he’d declined, she’d started to cry. Told him that this was her first date after her failed marriage and she was so afraid that she’d be alone forever. And in his stupidity, rather than tell her the truth, he’d asked her on a second date.

  That one had gone even worse than the first. And he’d realized that it was cruel to keep her hoping when there was no future between them. So he’d gently let her down, telling her he had no room in his life for relationships. That she’d find somebody who was perfect for her – but it wasn’t him.

  The next week she’d come into the ER with stomach pain. And so it had begun. He hadn’t wanted to make a scene at the hospital, so he dealt with it. She was just a little obsessed, that was all. She’d get tired eventually.

  But she hadn’t yet, had she? And now she was interfering in his sister’s life, too. His gentle rebuffs and refusals had done nothing but make her more determined.

  He needed to find a way to stop her for good.

  Yeah, well good luck with that.

  The idea came to him in the shower, when he was furiously rubbing shampoo into his dark hair. If he took a date to their meeting, maybe she’d realize he was serious about their having no future.

  But who could he take? The nurses at work would laugh, and he’d never live down the humiliation. And all his friends were couples – there was no way he could ask one of them to help.

  Climbing out of the shower, he grabbed a towel to rub his hair, walking into his bedroom where he looked at his shared wall with Meghan Hart.