by Lucy Ryder
His mother had hated it and when Ty had been two she’d packed him up and returned to California. And though he’d seen his father on the odd visit, he’d had to wait six years to spend summers in Washington. By that time they hadn’t even known each other.
He’d once asked Henry why he’d never sued for custody or objected to Ty’s change of name, and his father had replied that a child needed his mother.
Yeah, but Ty had needed his father too…away from the stifling expectations of a woman who’d demanded perfection from her son and then frozen him out when he’d disappointed her.
It was no wonder he preferred to remain unattached. His childhood had been an emotional minefield and he’d buried his emotions until…dammit, until Paige.
But that didn’t mean he was falling for her, he assured himself. It just meant he was bored and needed a distraction. And who better to distract him than his sassy neighbor?
Sometime later he felt movement and was instantly alert. “What’s wrong?” he rasped, rolling over to see Paige carefully slipping off the bed. She jolted when he spoke but didn’t turn around.
“I…uh…nothing, I just need the…um…bathroom.”
Scrubbing a hand over his face, he watched as she snagged one of his Tshirts and pulled it over her head. He wanted to object to her covering all those sweet curves but she was already pulling away from him. And despite what he’d said last night, he wasn’t ready to let her go.
Not yet.
Sitting up, he studied her through narrowed lids. “You were sneaking out, weren’t you?”
“What? No,” she said quickly, and to Ty’s mind guiltily. Her eyes slid away. “Of course not. What makes you think that?”
He searched her face for a hint of what she was thinking but for once her expression was unreadable.
“It might have something to do with the way you’re avoiding looking at me,” he drawled.
She fidgeted nervously, tugging at the hem of his T-shirt, although Ty could have told her not to bother. He’d already seen every inch of her and liked what he’d seen…and touched…and tasted.
His body stirred and his mouth began to water. He also liked seeing her all flustered, especially when she thrust a hand through her hair and began to mutter to herself. She clearly didn’t know what to do with her hands because she finally huffed out a breath and stuck them into her armpits.
“It’s just… I’m not good…with this,” she said defensively, edging towards the door and sending him quick nervous looks as though she expected him to pounce and needed a head start.
Beginning to enjoy himself, Ty propped a hand behind his head. “What’s ‘this’ exactly?”
She thrust out her bottom lip and blew out an exasperated breath and although he couldn’t see her eyes, he suspected that she was rolling them.
“This…” She gestured wildly, including his entire room. “This…um, after stuff.”
“You mean after hot sex?”
A wild flush rose into her cheeks and Ty took pity on her, tossing back the sheet and rising. He paused to stretch and heard a strangled sound catch in Paige’s throat. Her eyes widened at the sight of his morning erection and when he said, “Why don’t we—?” she whirled and a second later the bathroom door slammed.
Grinning, Ty pulled on a pair of jeans and on his way past the bathroom he called out, “I was about to say let’s go out for breakfast. But if you’re up for shower sex, I’m game.”
Her reply was incomprehensible and in the form of a muffled squeak, making Ty laugh. “Okay, but if you’re not out in five minutes, I’m coming in.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IT WASN’T OFTEN that Paige and Frankie had a day off together but when they did, they liked doing something they wouldn’t normally. Last time they’d gone hiking—not Paige’s favorite pastime, although the scenery had made up for the unpleasant physical exertion.
It had been Paige’s turn to choose and she was eager to explore all the little towns along the coast. Frankie, naturally athletic, had smirked at Paige’s choice of outing but with the promise of lunch at the charming Three Orcas Restaurant, overlooking a rocky bay, she’d reluctantly agreed on condition that Paige paid.
They’d managed an early start and headed for the scenic route to an artists’ colony nestled in a bay a couple of hours up the coast.
Paige had jumped at the chance to get out of Port St. John’s, needing to clear her head of all the intoxicating male pheromones making her crazy.
Although she was enjoying having Ty around, she kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.
He’d been in Washington for nearly six weeks and she knew without being told that he would soon be returning to LA. She’d casually mentioned his check-up a few times but whenever she did he either shut down completely or he’d put his hands and mouth on her and then she not only forgot what they were discussing, she forgot her own name.
She understood that he was worried about how his hand would impact his future but she couldn’t help being hurt that he refused to discuss his concerns with her.
But that was okay, she told herself, they were just neighbors. Granted, they were neighbors with benefits, but Ty was hot, she was willing, and they enjoyed each other’s company. End. Of. Story.
Besides, ever since the storm they’d fallen into a kind of unspoken routine where Paige would go to work and Ty would spend time with his father, Nate or Harry. When she got home, he’d badger her about her eating habits, and more often than not make her dinner.
Suddenly she was spending more and more nights in his bed and she was afraid that when he left she wouldn’t be able to sleep alone. Her mom had been gone more than fifteen years and it was strange having someone around to nag her about eating properly and getting enough rest. Paige couldn’t remember anyone else ever making the effort. If she didn’t know any better she could almost convince herself that he cared.
But that was dangerous thinking and although she tried not to, she began looking forward to eating home-cooked meals she didn’t have to prepare.
Okay, so she enjoyed his company and whatever came after dinner—and sometimes before—was good too. Big deal. What woman wouldn’t get excited fantasizing about coming home after a long day in ER to a hot sexy guy, a home-cooked meal and great sex?
Well, Paige was no dummy. She was going to enjoy it while it lasted, without getting her feelings hurt or her heart involved. She’d learned early that people didn’t stick and when they bailed you got your heart stomped on. But that wasn’t going to happen because her heart wasn’t involved with Ty.
Nope, it was locked away safe and sound.
But her body…well, that was something else entirely. Her body craved him with an intensity that would have scared her if she let herself think about it.
So she didn’t.
She shoved it to the back of her mind and never made the mistake of waking up with him again, having discovered the emotional intimacy of mornings-after made her feel exposed.
And feeling exposed—especially with a man like Ty—would be fatal. Better to slip away and pretend they were just friendly neighbors. Besides, he’d never mentioned her early-morning Houdini acts so he was clearly happy with the way things were.
Well, good. Fine. She was happy too.
Especially as she was about to spend a glorious day with her best friend.
Once on the highway, Paige opened her window, cranked up the volume of the radio and sang along to every song—even when she didn’t know the words. After snorting at her creative lyrics, Frankie joined in and pretty soon they were laughing like loons.
It was exactly what Paige needed; a fun day away from all the confusing emotions she didn’t know what to do with. Besides, she needed a healthy dose of reality and could always count on Frankie’s perceptive smartass-ness to make her laugh.
They stopped for morning tea at a quaint little seaside café so Paige could stuff her face with waffles smothered in fresh berries and cream.
By midmorning they’d pulled into Battle Bay and set out to explore the quaint little galleries filled with hundreds of paintings depicting life on the Olympic Peninsula.
They headed over to watch craftsmen and -women work. It was fascinating and educational, especially the candle sculpting, but Frankie had been more interested in the artist creating huge metal sea creatures. That the guy had been hot and shirtless hadn’t escaped their attention and Frankie had spent an inordinate amount of time photographing…well, his artwork too.
By the time they were headed back to Port St. John’s, Paige was feeling mellow for the first time in weeks. Life on an emotional roller-coaster was exhausting and she was looking forward to her life getting back to normal.
Liar.
Ignoring the disgusted voice in her head, she thought instead about the gifts she’d bought for Ty and Harry. She’d chosen an amazingly realistic carving of a coastguard cutter for Harry and a fierce-looking eagle for Ty.
She couldn’t wait to see his reaction.
“You know,” Frankie said lazily when they were about fifteen minutes from home, “this was actually a fun day. We should do it again. Maybe sleep over somewhere and make a weekend of it.”
Paige hummed her agreement. “I knew you’d like it.”
“What I liked,” Frankie drawled, “was seeing that guy Matt Rolfe with his shirt off.” She hummed. “That was the highlight of the day.”
Paige giggled. “I thought it was the crab salad and Manhattan iced tea.”
Frankie waggled her brows.
“So I guess all those photos you were taking weren’t of his artwork?” Paige asked.
When Frankie gave a snorted “Puh-leeze”, she momentarily took her gaze off the road.
“Shame on you. Is that why you asked him if he ever posed in the nude?”
Her friend rolled her eyes and fanned her face. “Did you see that guy? He was the work of art. Boy, I sure learned a whole lot about art appreciation today.”
“He was okay, I guess,” Paige mused, thinking about another man she wouldn’t mind painting in the nude—if she had any talent, that was. But her stick figures could hardly be termed as talent.
She was enjoying the image of painting a naked Ty with chocolate paint—stuff she could lick off—and almost missed Frankie’s horrified sideways look.
“Okay? Are you nuts?” Her friend whipped off her sunglasses to gape at Paige. “With all those gleaming muscles and a great butt showcased in faded denim, the man was the embodiment of the statue of David. Holy cow, I nearly swooned at his feet.”
“Mmm,” Paige said, unimpressed. “Have you looked at David? I mean, really looked?”
“Well, not as much as I looked at Matt Rolfe,” she confessed. “But what are you getting at?”
“I did a study on David in art class and, well…he’s a little small.”
“What are you talking about? That statue is huge.”
Paige snickered. “Not where it, um…counts it isn’t.”
Grinning widely, Frankie said in an echo of Paige’s previous statement, “Shame on you, Paige Carlyle, but believe me when I say Matt Rolfe filled out his jeans just fine. And just because you’re getting some, it doesn’t mean the rest of us aren’t looking.” She glanced at Paige. “Or aren’t jealous as hell. Especially with that goofy smile you wear most of the time.”
“What?” Paige blinked innocently and made a show of looking at her reflection in the rearview mirror. “What goofy smile?” She hadn’t said anything about how she’d been spending her nights, mostly because she’d barely seen Frankie since the night of the storm. Oh, yes, and maybe because she didn’t know what the heck to say except…wow and…holy cow.
“Don’t try that with me, Dr. Cutie. With both you and Ty looking all relaxed and mellow, it’s obvious what’s been going on.”
“Nothing’s been going on,” Paige insisted, her mellow mood vanishing. Nothing was happening. Well, except for a lot of amazing orgasms…but nobody needed to know about those. “And when did you see Ty?”
“The other evening when you were on duty. Didn’t he tell you?”
“No, um… I guess it didn’t come up.”
“Well I was at the Seafarers when he and Nate came in and I overheard them discussing his accident.”
“His accident?” Paige said, trying to sound casual because Ty certainly hadn’t shared much of anything personal with her, especially his accident.
“Yeah, well, after what I heard, I did an internet search on it and apparently some drunk guy thought Ty was someone else and tried to run him over. Fortunately the bumper only clipped him or it would have been a lot worse than a few bruises and a couple of broken bones.” She shook her head. “A real pity as he’s supposed to be one of the top trauma surgeons at St Augustine’s.”
Frankie frowned and turned to Paige. “And why didn’t you tell me he’s leaving next week?”
Paige’s mind went blank. “I…um—What?”
Frankie’s gaze sharpened and she cursed softly. “You didn’t know. Damn, Paige. I’m sorry.”
Paige rallied quickly and casually hitched her shoulder. “Don’t be,” she said, sending her friend a dazzling smile that probably fell way short of its intended brilliance. “Of course I knew he was leaving…just not next… You know it doesn’t matter because it’s not like we’re a thing…or anything,” she finished lamely.
Frankie sounded skeptical. “So hot regular sex isn’t a thing?”
“Of course not,” Paige spluttered out on a strangled laugh. “We barely know each other and—”
“And you’re in love with him.”
“What? No,” she squeaked, wrenching the wheel and nearly driving into oncoming traffic. After righting the car, she turned to gape at Frankie like she’d announced something horrifying. Because she had…kind of. Horrifying and so-o-o not true. “Of course I’m not in love with Ty.” That would be ridiculous and really, really stupid.
“Stupid I give you,” Frankie retorted, and it took a couple of seconds for Paige to realize she’d spoken out loud. “But what’s so ridiculous about it? Is it because he might never do surgery again? Because if it is—”
“What?” Paige demanded indignantly. “Are you crazy? Of course that’s not the reason. He’s leaving, so whether or not I’m in love with him—and I’m not,” she insisted when Frankie rolled her eyes, “is beside the point. He’s leaving.” Oh, boy, it was finally happening. “Maybe now I can get some sleep.” Her heart squeezed and she got a very bad feeling in her stomach. Hopefully it was just the crab she’d had for lunch because the alternative was—No. Nope. Not happening. “End of story,” she said firmly, although she wasn’t sure who she was talking to.
“Sleeping’s overrated,” Frankie dismissed with a flick of her hand. “You can sleep when you’re—” She sat up abruptly and swore. “What the hell is that driver—? Hey, watch out!”
Her warning came too late for Paige to swerve out of the way and was drowned out by the sound of crunching metal and shattering glass. The last thing she heard was Frankie’s curse.
*
Ty raced through the automatic doors at the JDF Medical Center and headed straight for ER. The nurse at the sign-in desk looked up as he ran past.
“Hey!” She bolted around the counter and grabbed his sleeve. “You can’t go through there. Stop!”
Ty whirled on her, breathing fast. He probably looked like a wild man but he didn’t care. Only that he—
“Paige Carlyle,” he snarled. “Which room?”
The woman’s brow wrinkled. “I don’t know… Dr. Michaels, I think…she—”
“I’ll find her,” he growled through clenched teeth, shaking off her hand and heading for the swing doors separating the waiting area from the exam rooms. The door closed on her spluttered, “We’re in Code Yellow.”
The place was in chaos. Nurses, orderlies and paramedics rushed about and he could hear a furious male voice snap, “Find her, b
efore I have all your asses in a sling.”
It was the first time he’d been in the belly of ER since his accident but the fact that his chest was squeezing the life out of him had nothing to do with apprehension about his future, cardiac arrest or even that he was afraid he’d never work in another ER again.
All he could think about was the call he’d received fifteen minutes ago from Nate. Sitting on Harry’s deck, playing chess, he’d been enjoying the sun and the old man’s stories about his glory days as a coastguard. One minute he’d been chuckling and plotting his move, the next…
“There’s been an accident,” Nate had said brusquely without his customary greeting, and his next words had sent Ty’s world into a tailspin. Nate barely got out, “Paige is…” and Ty had already vaulted off Harry’s deck.
“That was Nate,” he’d called out, dashing the few yards along the marina walkway and taking the stairs to his deck at a dead run. “There’s been an accident.” He’d said nothing about Paige in case Harry worried, but the drive to the hospital had been the longest fifteen minutes of his life; even longer than waiting for the orthopedic surgeon to pronounce his diagnosis after his surgery. Even longer than waiting in a jail cell at eighteen for his mother to arrive.
And now, with the current chaos, the worst possible scenarios flashed through his head. At the center was Paige, battered, bruised and the cause of all the panic.
He grabbed the first person he came across, the nurse from the night of the storm. “Nancy—”
“Can’t talk now, handsome,” she hurriedly called out. “We’ve misplaced a…something.”
He was about to ask her what the hell they’d misplaced when she raced off, leaving Ty to search every ER room himself.
He found her in the last room.
Not on the gurney, hooked up to IVs or machines, as he’d expected, but comforting the middle-aged woman on the bed. “Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry,” the woman sobbed. “I took that bend too fast and when I pumped the brakes there was…nothing. Not a thing.” She paused to wipe her eyes. “I didn’t see you, I really didn’t.”
