by Hope Navarre
His dark blond sun-bleached hair and tanned body, built and muscled like a man used to physical activity—and lots of it—had her wondering just how much work she could get done in close proximity to him. He was freaking hot and she couldn’t catch her breath.
She hadn’t had a reaction to a man so deeply in over a decade. That thought turned off her come-on button like a flicked switch in a dark room.
Kyle. She’d reacted to Kyle like that once. Then he was gone. Literally. He’d been swept off her father’s fishing boat during a late-summer squall. They never recovered his body, and his death had created a living hell that had lasted years for all concerned.
Cassie hadn’t had the courage to give anyone her love since. Instead, she had plenty of casual dates. She broke hearts, unintentionally of course, but whether her emotions had shut down or she just hadn’t met anyone who invoked the same feelings she had for Kyle, she hadn’t settled with one man. At twenty-nine, Mercy Hospital’s E.R. was her life. She was happy here. She also had wonderful friends, both guys and gals, and her occasional dates seemed to be enough.
“Cassie, you okay?” The charge nurse, Rachel, frowned as Cassie approached the nursing station. “You look flustered.”
One of Cassie’s curses. Her thoughts always showed on her face. “Is John around? I’d like to take Peter Chapman home and can’t until John signs the release.”
Rachel grinned, showing the small space between her front teeth. Her smile was her signature.
“Doc is stitching up Lou Anderson again. You planning on hiding Chapman in your closet?”
She waved a hand. “Not to my home, silly woman. To the Oceanside. Besides, our new coworker is off-limits for me.”
Rachel smirked. “Are you sure? You took time from your day off just to attend to him.”
“Hey, you’d do the same.”
Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “Hmm. You looked pretty interested when Doc was cutting off his clothes.”
“Can’t fault me there. Every woman present was.”
Rachel’s gaze drifted in the direction of Peter’s room. “If I were single and younger, I’d take a chance with that one.”
“Well, then, it’s a good thing you’re not. Don’t think Huey would be too happy.”
Rachel laughed. “Huey wouldn’t take his eyes off a football game long enough to notice.”
Cassie glanced at the clock on the wall behind the nurses’ station. “When Doc finishes, send him back. He wanted to meet Peter awake.”
“Okay. I’ll cover for you if you get...delayed.”
“You have an overactive imagination, girl!”
Cassie headed for her locker, distressed by Rachel’s comment about Huey. Did she ever want to get married if long-term relationships grew stale? Definitely not.
She grabbed her purse from the locker and closed the door. Amazing how a new curiosity like Peter Chapman arriving in Montauk caused such a ruckus with her female coworkers. She’d met him first, albeit through his accident, so felt a sense of proprietary interest in him. She’d flirted with him against her better judgment because, hell’s bells, he was just too handsome to resist. After hearing the other nurses’ chatter, it was time to rely on reason and behave. Taking Peter Chapman to his hotel and leaving him there seemed like the next best thing to do.
No matter how capable Peter was, hospital rule insisted that a patient be wheeled to the door. Pushing a wheelchair toward his room, she convinced herself that if Peter’s professional bedside manner proved to be anything like his charm, they’d be working together for a long time. Might as well not ruin their budding friendship by stepping over boundaries.
She inhaled a fortifying breath and whispered, “I can do this.”
She wheeled the chair into the room to find Chapman dressed and sitting on the end of the bed, hands on his knees in easy posture, talking with John, who everyone affectionately called Doc. John was of medium height, lean, middle-aged, with a full head of russet hair and a perfectly manicured beard. Dressed in his usual white doctor coat, worn open over a blue man-tailored shirt, striped tie, jeans and well-worn cowboy boots that he insisted were more comfortable than sneakers, John had his hands hooked in his pockets as they chatted.
His smile reached his warm, brown eyes while he concentrated on what Peter was saying. Doc had been head of Mercy Hospital’s E.R. for ten years running. Before taking charge, he was a resident doctor. Cassie’s mom had worked with him before Cassie attended nursing school.
Their friendship was one of the perks of small-town living. Doc’s first wife, who was a friend of her mother’s, had died of cancer. He’d since remarried a lovely woman ten years his junior, and before becoming a nurse, Cassie had babysat their two daughters. Cassie also became friends with Ellen Bailey since she was closer to Cassie’s age than her mother’s. The two loved the beach. Wore similar clothes. Biked together early on Tuesday mornings and liked to share gossip over mocha lattes Ellen would make in her kitchen while the kids played at their feet. Such was life in a small village. You worked and played with your neighbors. The bond kept life predictable, despite the occasional drama between locals, and was especially important for a tight-knit fishing community that entertained seasonal tourism and was a haven for celebrities.
Doc waved her in. “Hey, Cassie. Peter says you’ve taken good care of him.” He gave her a pointed look. “If you’re finished, I’d say he’s ready to go.”
The heat of a blush immediately burned her cheeks. Doc was baiting her because a year ago she had dated an intern, breaking his heart so badly that he had quit and moved to the city. She had no doubt that Doc was making sure she’d leave Peter Chapman alone so he would stick around.
She waved a dismissing hand. “You did all the work, Doc. I was merely the first face he saw when he woke up.”
Doc smiled, clearly enjoying her willingness to banter even though he made his point. “Peter will make a good addition to our crew.”
She met Peter’s gaze and forced herself to breathe slowly. Doc had spoken highly of Peter when he’d decided to hire him. He’d graduated at the top of his class, spent two years working in Los Angeles and came with excellent references. Amazing that an offer for a job could be made and closed by online conferencing these days. Neither man had to spend precious time or money traveling for the interview.
Cassie had been impressed by Doc’s description of Peter’s abilities. In person, he became sheer firepower in a glance, but the real test would be watching him in action. She’d seen it before. Book smarts, no matter how impressive, paled in comparison to bedside manner, fast thinking in a crisis and an ability to get along with one’s peers. For her, the jury was still out. Sure, Peter had charm. But, could he insert an IV into an unconscious and severely dehydrated patient, or anticipate a doctor’s call for meds required for a trauma victim, or accurately assess who needed attention first when multiple trauma victims arrived at the same time? His résumé said he had the experience. Now he had to prove it. Mercy Hospital worked hard to establish its reputation as a state-of-the-art facility, especially with the celebrity population in Montauk. Cassie was curious to put him to the test before she made any definitive conclusions.
Peter pointed to the wheelchair. “I’m not riding in that thing.”
Doc clapped him on the shoulder. “Sure you are. Cassie has a license to drive wheelchairs. You’re safe in her hands.”
Peter stood. “I’m fine. No wheelchair.”
Cassie wagged a finger at him. “Now don’t be a difficult patient.”
Doc put an arm around her shoulder. “You’d better not cross her, Peter. This woman is my best nurse.”
Grateful for the compliment, especially in front of the new guy, she made light of his kind words. “John says that to all his nurses when no one else is listening.”
Doc looked at his
watch. “I have to go. Cassie, when Peter comes in next week, I’d like you to show him around the E.R. I want him totally comfortable before Easter.”
One-on-one with the surfer stud. Could she handle it? Inwardly, she scoffed. Of course she could. They’d be working together now. It was just a matter of getting used to a new employee. She shot a casual look in his direction. “Think you can make the grade?”
“Bring it on, Cassie Michaels.”
Doc shook Peter’s hand. “Looking forward to having you on board. Your cut should be healed sufficiently by then.”
Peter was smiling, probably at her obvious distress over being put in charge of him. Damn her transparent face.
“Wouldn’t miss my first day at work for the world, Dr. Bailey. I drove a long way to get here.”
“Call me Doc. Welcome to Montauk.”
After John disappeared out the door, Cassie pointed to the wheelchair. “Sit. I’m sure you’d like to get settled.”
Satchel in hand, Peter climbed into the chair with a suddenly cheerful attitude. “Okay, boss. Take me anywhere you want to go.”
She pushed him from the room and tried with every ounce of control to keep the visual of taking him to bed out of her mind.
CHAPTER TWO
SEATED IN THE passenger seat of Cassie’s Jeep Wrangler, Peter checked his face in the visor mirror. His left eye was swollen and bruised magenta. It would blacken in a few days. The sutures pinched a bit over the cut, which now throbbed with a dull ache.
“Looking like this, it’s a good thing I’m not coming in until next week. I’d scare patients.”
She glanced his way. “Does it hurt?”
Mostly his pride for having had the accident. This wasn’t exactly the way he wanted to present himself to his coworkers. He slid on his Ray-Ban sunglasses against the glaring sun, careful of the bandage on his brow. “No. I’m fine.”
“Why don’t you use that ice pack a little longer?”
“Because I want to see where you’re going.”
“Can’t you see with one eye?”
He laughed. Cute, but pushy. “I can use a break from the ice.”
She shook her head. “Why do doctors and nurses make the worst patients?”
Peter chuckled. “Because we know too much.”
The hospital was tucked in a cul-de-sac off the main road. A copse of newly greened woods spread from behind the building into the low hills. He was quickly learning that untouched woods were the norm in Montauk. Peter rolled down his window to breathe in the cool, crisp, sun-drenched air. Driving down Montauk Highway, which reduced to a two-way street, yielded exactly what he expected. Small town. Tourist and boutique shops, real estate offices along the sidewalks dotted with bistros and ice cream stands, old beach houses turned into trendy restaurants, local pubs with lobster traps hanging from their outside walls and antique anchors by the steps. He loved Montauk. Already.
Best thing about it was the woman driving him to his new digs. The comfort he felt so quickly in her company was something he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He’d spent so many years keeping people at arm’s length because of his mom’s issues and the situation at home. Only a handful of friends had ever crossed the threshold of his house. Cassie’s easy manner caught him off guard. He’d felt an instant attraction to her, but he needed to curb the inclination. Curious as to what so attracted him to this woman, he’d watch and listen for a while. He’d already sensed she was being cautious over the same pull he felt.
One thing for sure, he certainly wanted to know more about her. Yet, he had specifically left California to rebuild his life, to find his footing. He finally had the time to discover who he was and what he truly wanted from life. As tempting as Cassie was—if she were even available—getting involved in a relationship might distract him from needed breathing room. Because he couldn’t see out of his swollen left eye, he had to turn his head completely to look at her. Damn. She was pretty. Just how much breathing room did a guy really need?
“Can we stop by the gas station to see what condition my truck is in?” he asked.
“Sure. It’s on the other side of the plaza. We’ll go there first.”
She maneuvered the Jeep into the traffic circle. This hub was punctuated by the only six-story building in Montauk, which looked like Gulliver among the Lilliputians next to the smaller buildings.
“Why the one high building?”
“Historical. In the early nineteen hundreds a land mogul tried to recreate Miami Beach here. That was his office building. It’s now a condominium.”
Peter looked around. “This doesn’t look like Miami Beach.”
“No joke. It never happened. The Depression hit. The developer, Fisher was his name, built that tower, Montauk Manor, and dug and dredged Lake Montauk.” She gestured out the window. “He created about thirty notable spots. Then the stock market crashed. Stopped everything. Local zoning change. Nothing tall can be built any longer.”
“Wow. You’re a natural tour guide.”
Pride lit her glance. “I know everything about Montauk. What else do you want to hear?”
He shrugged. “What do you think about outsiders?”
“You’re only an outsider if you choose to stay that way.”
Interesting perspective. Would he let Los Angeles slip from his system to become a local? Hell, yes. While growing up, the threat of police, social workers or prying teachers invading his life had been an everyday occurrence with his mom’s unreliable behavior. One would have thought he’d welcome the rescue, but he’d seen too many kids his age get lost in the system, join gangs or become caught up in drugs. He and Gil had made a pact early on that they were safer at home. Mom was passive enough. With Uncle Michael’s help, their plan had worked.
He’d miss his surfer friends, wouldn’t miss the few girlfriends he’d had. Hadn’t done so well in his choice of women. Guess he’d had a learning curve there. Once Gil had moved out, Peter had become free, ready to shake the dust from his past off his mind. Right now, it felt as if he’d never made a better choice in his life.
“I’ll enjoy finding my way around.”
“I think you’ll fit right in.”
Her smile warmed him. And the dimple in her right cheek was charming as all get-out. “Have you ever had the need to go someplace else?”
She looked surprised. “Why would I want to leave?”
He imitated her gesture out the window. “It’s a big world out there.”
“Yeah, but I love it here.”
The passion in her statement hit him like a brick. Despite his and Gil’s pact, Peter had felt the urge to run away from home his entire life. He and Gil both had. Probably why they’d promised to watch each other’s backs. “What do you do for fun around here besides fish?”
She shot him an amused look. “Other than plucking newcomers from ditches when they don’t heed the deer-crossing signs?”
He laughed. “Very funny.” He didn’t need to remind her that he wouldn’t have had the accident if he hadn’t been so busy watching her in his mirror.
Her smile seemed to light up the inside of the Jeep. “It’s pretty quiet around here. Only a few bars stay open late. If you want to party hard you’ll have to drive into East Hampton, then probably get a room. The police are pretty tough on drunk drivers.”
“Do you have a big brother who keeps all the guys away from you?”
She laughed. “Nope. Only child.”
“Boyfriend?”
They’d come to a red light. She took the opportunity to stare him down. “Nosy, aren’t you?”
He grinned. “No. Interested.”
Wow. She actually looked flustered for a moment before the light of challenge filled her eyes.
“Okay, my turn. Siblings?”
He’d play. “Yes, a brother. Older by eleven months.”
“He still in California?”
“Yes. He and his partner just married and moved to San Francisco.” He missed the guys already. “I’m happy for Gil. He and Rudy have been together for years.”
She lifted a brow. “Maybe you can get them to move here. That way you’d have family nearby, too.”
He’d thought of that on the drive across the country. Why couldn’t they all stay together? But he wouldn’t want Gil pressuring him to stay on the west coast. They had to honor each other’s choices. Besides, what if Montauk didn’t work for him? He’d hate to be responsible for dragging the guys all this way for nothing.
Cassie pulled into the gas station. “Mother? Father?”
“Not fair. Didn’t get to ask you that question yet.”
“Hey. You were just bulldozing me with interrogation. Now you refuse to answer?”
Peter spied his truck. What he saw of it seemed okay; he just had to see what the front end looked like. He opened the car door. “Didn’t say that...” He trailed off as he climbed out of the Jeep to inspect the damage to his truck. He’d rather not talk about his parents now. He’d enjoyed their light banter way too much to muddy the conversation.
She followed him to his truck. “They say you can tell a person from the car they drive.”
He laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re one of them.”
“What’s a them?”
“You know. People match their pets. Couples start looking alike after years together, someone who categorizes everything.”
She tapped a finger to her lips as she went from inspecting Peter to focusing on his truck. “Late model. White. Dirty from being on the road for days.” She looked through the closed passenger window. “Tan interior. Pristine. Hmm. Even professionally cleaned clothes on hangers in the back. And now, dented. Just like you.”
