Holiday House Call

by Doyle, Jen

  As if she should talk. She’d broken her diet big-time and couldn’t find it within herself to care. She was actually as immensely pleased with that as she was with how he’d made her feel. She almost, even, wanted to kiss him.

  Appearing to know exactly what she was thinking, he grinned. Didn’t give up any information, but, yes, he was definitely amused. Reaching over for something on her now much messier desk, when he straightened up she saw it was the rest of the orange. Coming over, he handed it to her, then cupped her jaw and ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “Eat.”

  Hell, even Ryan’s breath caught at that. Not enough for him to keep from saying, “Uh, Tuck, I think you forgot something.” He nodded to the floor in front of the desk.

  The condom wrapper. Oh, lord. But all Tuck did was bend down and pick it up, pocketing it as he left the room. “I’m going to call you,” he said to her, not embarrassed in the least. Which did surprise her, because of the two of them, it shouldn’t be Karen who was mortified.

  “I’ll believe that when I see it,” she managed to answer, and it was one of the few times in her life she wished Ryan weren’t there, because she wanted this moment all to herself. “Be careful.”

  “I always am,” he replied, having absolutely no clue her father had always said that, too.

  She held herself together as he waved and disappeared around the corner.

  Then she allowed herself ten seconds of an eyes-closed, leaning-against-the-wall, what-the-hell-just-happened? mini-breakdown—only in her head, of course, because that was all she could do until she got to Bruiser again—before turning to Ryan. “I’ll change into my scrubs and then meet you downstairs.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Tuck had never been so happy to be called to an accident scene as he was at that moment—something that bothered him as much as the reasons behind it.

  He wasn’t at all proud about what had just happened. He’d known going in that he was on shaky ground, and he’d sworn to himself he was going to make it up to her. He’d driven his own personal vehicle to this afternoon’s meeting so he could officially take the rest of the afternoon off in hopes of persuading her to have dinner with him. He hadn’t intended to initiate actual physical contact. Hell, he’d even specifically told himself to expect her to pull out the sex card and that he was absolutely going to resist it.

  Then he’d decided that two slices of an orange equaled lunch, thanked Christ he’d had the forethought to grab a couple of condoms, and taken her right there on her desk in an unlocked office in the middle of the Goddamned hospital. And, damn, he’d never flown higher. So much for his willpower.

  It was well past ten by the time he got home, his drive not at all helped by the first official snowfall of the season. He’d showered and changed at the station, so he didn’t go inside right away, instead waiting at his truck for his dogs to come to him. Sox and Seeley spent most of their days at his neighbor’s horse farm, which was a perfect arrangement as far as Tuck was concerned. They’d never been able to have pets when he was a kid, but as soon as they moved to Inspiration his parents got a dog and Tuck had had at least one ever since. He flashed his headlights so that Ella would know he was in for the night, and then he zipped his jacket up tight—although the snow had stopped, there was a bitter wind—and took them for a walk along the road, his mind on Karen the entire time.

  He gave his all to his job and he willingly gave his life over to it, believing strongly in giving back to the town that had saved him. He hadn’t quite expected Karen to give him the whole not-part-of-my-job excuse, although, yes, he understood where she was coming from about boundaries. Things were different in places like that—it was why he’d left Denver.

  But the more he was getting to know her—despite her every effort to shut him down, Jesus Christ—the more he could see she’d created her own small town of sorts, it was just all anonymous and within her own constructs. She cared deeply enough to write checks for people who would never know she’d done so. Tuck knew from Fitz that not only had Karen called to check in but, within the last few days, several other local charities—including the Police Department’s Benevolence Fund and every single one of the high school’s clubs and teams—had gotten anonymous donations.

  And, hell, yes, he was going to get her—and however many damn colleagues she wanted—out here to talk about doing an entire symposium on concussions and anything else they could think of. Because he had a feeling that might have been it, as far as she was concerned.

  Did she think maybe he’d give up on wanting to get to know her better? Or maybe that he’d just give in again—and again and again? She might be right on that last point, unfortunately, but he had no intention of giving up. No, he wasn’t at all happy with how little it had taken to get him to throw all good sense out the window when the opportunity of having her naked and underneath him was truly presented. His issue, however, wasn’t that he was opposed to sex, he just wanted it to be with someone he cared about and who had indicated he meant something in return. It didn’t have to be love, and the idea of marriage certainly wasn’t a requirement. But, yes, there had to be something.

  Then again, although she clearly hadn’t changed her stance on the relationship front, she did seem to be opening up to him, even if it was just a little bit at a time. He was taking that as a win.

  By the time he got back to his house, he was nearly frostbitten thanks to having to take his gloves off to use his phone, but he’d emailed the coaches and trainers he worked with, as well as Nate and Fitz to bring the foundation and Dream Academy staff in on it. He emailed the local principals, too, in case they had any interest in a clinic for parents and kids. He turned on the gas fire, poured himself a whiskey as the dogs settled in, and sat down in his big leather club chair, thinking of how nicely Karen would fit in his lap if she were here.

  He picked up his phone, only to see she’d sent him a text just a few minutes before: Yes, I know this is ridiculous, but the roads were bad tonight. Could you let me know when you’re home?

  He supposed he could have just sent her a text back, but since she was obviously still up, he called her instead. His heart warmed a little at the obvious relief in her tone as she said, “You’re back.” Other than Ella and his dogs, there wasn’t even anyone to check in with.

  “I am.” And since he had no doubt she specifically did not want to talk about what had happened between them that afternoon, he instead told her he was going to take her up on the offer to rope in her colleagues, and that he was holding a planning meeting and would do it whatever night she was free.

  There was a moment of silence as she no doubt sent daggers at him through the phone line. Or whatever technology phones used these days. “What happens if you get called into some kind of, oh, emergency Christmas meeting again?”

  Okay, yes, he deserved that. “I promise you, I will not be called into an emergency meeting.”

  “Or if there’s another wreck on 35.”

  He had worked every holiday, every weekend, every extra shift and gone to every community meeting he’d ever been invited to. “I will call in every favor I have. Trust me, I’ll be there.”

  She gave a low laugh and it reminded him of every sound she’d made when he’d had her trembling beneath him. “So a meeting is worth calling in favors, but dinner with me isn’t?”

  And she had him there as well. His only defense was that he’d been biding his time because he figured if he made too big of a deal about it, it would spook her even more. “You’re more likely to say yes for something that involves the health and safety of kids.”

  There was a very distinct “Hmph,” from her end of the line. But she gave in. “How does Monday night sound?”

  Monday night sounded fine. “Fair warning, though. It’s at my house and I live out in the country. I just wanted to let you know in case you need to take somet
hing for the hives when you cross over the city line.”

  “Very funny,” she said. “It’s a preference. You know, like the way you feel about doctors.”

  Well, huh. “I seem to be getting over my issues.” And that wasn’t a lie.

  She just snorted.

  Yes, he was definitely taking it as a win.

  * * *

  Three days later, he was finishing setting the table when the dogs jumped up and ran through the room. He got there just as the doorbell rang to see her standing with her back to him as she looked out over the snow-covered fields sloping down from his front porch. The sun was setting but there was enough light to see Ella bringing in the last of the horses for the night. It was a pretty spectacular sight, and one he might have maybe timed accordingly. She was actually a little early, which made it even better.

  When she turned to him, her cheeks flushed from the cold and her eyes bright from the sting of the wind, it took everything he had not to crush him to her.

  “This isn’t what I expected,” she said, her eyes now going beyond him to see into his living room. Then she looked down and noticed the dogs. Her face lit up but she didn’t put her hand out for them as most people did.

  Which, he supposed, made a lot of sense. She probably had to be very careful about her hands given her livelihood. “They don’t bite.”

  Whether she took his word for it, or just believed it because they still hadn’t moved from where they were sitting despite their obvious eagerness to greet their visitor, she dropped down to her knees and then let them sniff. He gave them the command to release and they were all over her. She laughed as she reached down to steady herself, petting them both before reaching up to him for help to stand up.

  That was it. That was the moment. Seeing her here in his living room, playing with his dogs... The floor dropped out from underneath him as he saw a future he’d never even particularly wanted until this very moment.

  He let go of her immediately and took a step back. Even he wasn’t ready for that—but, hell, he was glad there were other guests on their way because if not for that fact, he might have said something he regretted.

  Thankfully oblivious, she reached into her bag and pulled out a box with a red bow on it. Johnny Walker Double Black. “You don’t strike me as the wine type.”

  Trying to keep his smile contained, he led her into the kitchen. “I guess I can take that off my list then.” He wasn’t joking, as she saw from the pad on his fridge.

  It seemed to make her immensely pleased that she’d gotten it right, and then even more so when she saw that he’d stocked up not just on seltzer and limes for her, but also cherries and oranges. She went over to the French doors and looked out to his back yard and the creek that ran just behind it. “Okay, you win. I can see why you love it here.”

  Yep, he was gone. Goddamn it.

  Thank goodness he’d prepped for this dinner as he would for any meeting, complete with agenda and flipchart. But having people he considered good friends there—Deke and Fitz, Nate, and his fiancée, Dorie—as well as Coach O’Reilly, Ryan and Tim, who were now apparently officially dating, and Eric Hanson, the doctor who’d treated Justin, it gave Tuck a little bit too much of a sense of what it would be like if they were truly a couple. If it was just a bunch of friends coming over for a nice night of company, leaving him at the end of it with her. As if she belonged there.

  Honestly? He was a bit stressed out by the time the night was over, even though the meeting part went extremely well. Eric was, actually, an expert on concussions, and the guy was beyond stoked to be part of this, although that may have had something to do with Nate Hawkins being in the room. They’d come up with some big plans for longer term training of coaches and athletes, but the immediate result was that there’d be a mandatory session for high school athletes and their families on the Thursday night two weeks after Thanksgiving.

  “You guys are frighteningly efficient,” Karen said after everyone except, Fitz, Deke, Dorie and Nate had left. They’d all stayed to help with the cleanup, which Tuck was grateful for. He needed the fortification.

  With the meeting over, he felt like he was in a daze, truth be told, not entirely sure if he was coming or going. It was the oddest feeling. When Karen, Dorie, and Fitz brought another load of plates and glasses into the kitchen, Tuck jumped to his feet and started packing up the things from the meeting. Maybe a bit frenetically.

  “You okay?” Deke asked, the smile lurking in the corners of his eyes.

  “I wasn’t ready.” The words came out of Tuck’s mouth before he fully registered them. “She isn’t ready.”

  “Tell me about it,” Nate muttered, although he was smiling, too.

  “You want to talk about it?” Deke said. The man was a bartender by trade; talking was what he did.

  Tuck, on the other hand, was a cop. “Absolutely not.” He was there to listen when necessary, give out stern warnings when required. And despite what Karen might think about small towns, he had no interest in sharing his thoughts with everyone. Even if “everyone” just consisted of his closest friends.

  Completely unoffended, Deke just stood up and clasped him on the shoulder. “We’re here for you if you need us. Just let us know.” Then, because he loved to court death and knew that being married to Nate’s baby sister was still a sore spot, he said, “If you don’t mind, I need to grab my wife and get out of here. Christ, I can’t wait to get my hands on her.”

  Grateful for the change of topic, Tuck laughed. “I have a lot on my mind tonight, so, Nate, if you murder him, could you wait until you’re off my property?”

  Then again, Nate now had a trump card, as one of his former teammates was married to Deke’s sister and Nate clearly thought turnabout was fair play. “You know,” he said, “Jack was just saying that Lola—”

  “Fitz!” Deke shouted. “Time to go, babe!”

  Since Fitz and Dorie were both used to the ongoing nature of this discussion, neither one of them was particularly surprised at the turn of events as they came out of the kitchen, Karen trailing right behind. Dorie took Nate’s hand. “At what point do you guys accept this is mutually assured destruction?” she asked dragging him to the door.

  As they left, Deke looked down at Fitz. “If we make out over in front of that window, he’ll totally see us when the headlights come on.”

  Not even bothering to dignify that with a response, Fitz rolled her eyes and then smiled at Tuck. “I’ll call you tomorrow morning so we can talk logistics.” She turned to Karen. “Bye, Dr. C.” Then she pushed Deke ahead of her, laughing at something he said as they left.

  When the door closed behind them, Tuck sat back against the table waiting for a sign from Karen as to what she wanted to do next. He wanted her to stay. He was afraid that saying such would just push her out faster so he folded his arms against his chest instead. And as if she weren’t someone whose taste he could summon when he closed his eyes, he merely said, “That went better than I expected. Thank you.”

  Her eyebrows went up, and she got a little bristly. “You’re welcome. Glad to be of service. You know, for the health and safety of the town.”

  Okay. So maybe he could have handled that with a little more finesse. He gripped the table on either side of him, not looking up at her until he had the right words, which, honestly, wasn’t his strong point. But he made the attempt. “I know you don’t want the same things I do, but I don’t want to give up on the idea of there being an us.” Just to put that right out there. Summoning the courage to look up, he was relieved to see a smile on her face rather than a flat-out get-the-hell-away-from-me. “And I’d really like you to stay here tonight.”

  She stared at him for what seemed like a really long time. And then she bit her lip and looked down at the floor. Steeling himself for her inevitable refusal, he wasn’t sure if he’d heard her
right when she said, “Okay.”

  Chapter Twelve

  This was completely new territory. Karen had no idea what she was doing or how she’d gotten here, but she knew she didn’t want to leave and she was just going to go with that for the time being. Although, frankly, he seemed as surprised as she was.

  A slow smile came over his face as he straightened up a little and looked at her—really looked at her. “Yeah?”

  She shrugged a little, feeling oddly self-conscious. “Yeah.”

  She held his gaze as he came to her, her heart beginning to pound so loud in her chest she’d be surprised if he couldn’t hear it, too. When he got to her, he tipped her chin up. “I’m not asking for forever,” he said. “I know we’re not even close to that.”

  Feeling like she might cry, Karen bit her lip to keep it from trembling. That helped, actually. It truly did.

  Then he smiled, and brushed his thumb over her lip. His voice rough, he said, “But I really like the idea of waking up next to you tomorrow morning. And maybe on other mornings after that.”

  Her chest felt tight. She still didn’t think she could manage an actual relationship—she was afraid of the magnitude of what her parents had had together. Of what Gabe felt for Taylor. Of the devastation of knowing the one person who meant everything to you might someday be taken away. The problem, of course, was... “I kind of do, too.” But she wasn’t going to dwell on that right now.

  The air between them was electric. Her lips started to tingle. He didn’t move so much as a muscle, but she could feel how much he wanted to kiss her, could hear his silent question reverberating through the air. With a deep breath in, she closed her eyes and nodded, feeling the heat of him just before his lips touched hers.

  She gasped at the sensation. At the wave of warmth it sent crashing through her. She grabbed on to his shirt and clutched it, pulling him in closer as she parted her lips to let him in. It was heaven, pure and simple—the way his hands tightened in her hair, the way he tasted. Like thick, sweet honey complete with a whole hive’s worth of buzzing bees. Her body was practically vibrating. Oh, God, she really liked all that buzzing.