by Vella Day
Admit it. I’m falling for him. Hard.
Max’s SUV pulled into her drive, and with her change of clothes in a tote bag, she rushed out to meet him. Before she could pull open the passenger side door, Max opened it for her.
“Thank you.”
Max’s jaw slightly hardened. “Have you heard any more from Becky?”
He was the last one to see her. “No. I’ll call her later today to see how she’s holding up.”
“Good.” Max slid into his seat and pulled his car out of her drive. “I contacted Trent this morning. He said he’d look at the surveillance tapes to see if he could get a possible identification of the man following Becky. RHPD has good facial recognition software in place.”
“Speaking of which, did RHPD ever come up with the names of the men who tried to break into the clinic?”
He shook his head. “No. Those scum seemed to know where the cameras were located, and kept their faces averted the whole time.”
“Damn. Did I mention my boss hired a guard to watch the clinic? I know Trent said they’d have a cop drive by a few times, but I don’t think Yolanda thought that was enough.”
“Excellent. Will this guard be there during all operating hours?”
That would take a few men. “No. The clinic is open thirteen hours a day. This man will escort the workers from their car to work, and then he’ll return for another four hours from five to nine.”
“I’m glad the workers will be safe.”
“Me, too.”
“I’m also glad that I’m your chauffeur. It means you’ll be extra safe.”
She placed a hand on his shoulder. “You are too good to me.”
He grinned, as he pulled up in front of the clinic. “Keep thinking that.”
“I’m looking forward to our date tonight.” Her pulse sped up.
“So am I. I’ll call the garage and text you if your car is ready.”
“If it’s ready? You don’t think it will be?”
He shrugged. “Old parts are hard to find.”
Damn. “I can call if you want. It is my car.”
“Jamie.” He gave her his sternest look.
She laughed. “That’s right. You’re a man. You like to do things like that.”
“You got that right.” He winked.
She’d never met a man who seemed to care so much about her needs. She liked it. “Bye.”
Jamie slipped out of the SUV and rushed inside for her shift. Yolanda was off today. With Dr. McDermott still out, a new physician from LACE hospital was substituting. Sasha had told her that when that happened, it was up to the nurses to basically run the show. Unfortunately, Sasha also had the day off, making the clinic feel a bit more frantic. Lucky for them, they had fewer patients than usual, and Jamie managed to make it through the day without too much stress. She was even able to push aside the incident with Becky, and almost succeeded in not fretting about her date with Max.
At four, her cell dinged. It was a text from Max. Excitement filled her until she read his message: Sorry. Car’s not ready. Next Wednesday for sure. I’ll pick you up at five.
“Something wrong?” Mr. Sanders asked. Her patient was sitting on the edge of the exam table waiting for her to take his blood pressure.
She shook her head. “My car’s still in the shop for almost another week, but it’s all good.” There was an upside. It meant more time with Max.
“I know how that can be. Had me an old Ford truck. I babied that thing for over two hundred thousand miles, but at the end it was in the shop more than it was out.”
He sounded a lot like her dad. “I like the part about the car lasting.”
Close to five, Layla said she’d take the next few patients so Jamie could change for her date. She’d tried on several outfits last night, and in the end, went with black jeans, pumps, and a knit top. After her usual application of lipstick and blush, she added a light layer of eye shadow and a smoky gray liner. A quick dab of concealer under her eyes, and she was quite satisfied with the result. Instead of dragging her change of clothes with her on their date, she left them in the break room. She had more scrubs at home.
As Jamie headed toward the waiting room to meet Max, Layla stepped out of an exam room, folder in hand. She looked up and her eyes widened. “Wow. Hot, girl. Max is going to drool.”
“It’s not too much?” Jamie hadn’t been on a first date in years.
“No. You’re gorgeous.”
“Thanks.” Not wanting to keep him waiting, Jamie stepped outside a minute before five.
The air had a bitterness to it, forcing her to tug her collar closed. Right on time, Max arrived. She opened the door to the SUV before he could get out.
“You’re giving a guy a complex.”
She stilled. “What are you talking about?”
“You don’t let me open the door for you anymore.” He sounded like he was flirting more than acting offended. Or maybe it was wishful thinking on her part.
Jamie never considered he did it for himself, but rather to be nice to her. “It’s cold,” she said.
“Just pushing your buttons, honey. Buckle up.”
Honey? She liked it. They were actually on a real date and she couldn’t wait to get started.
Chapter Eleven
Max looked over and smiled. “I guess I should have asked. Is Italiano’s okay?”
“Perfect.”
With the car heat turned to high, Jamie was actually toasty by the time they arrived. This time, she waited for him to open her door. Max held out his hand and, when she placed her palm in his, the skin-to-skin touch sent a delicious sizzle up her arm. From the glint in his eye, he just might have felt the attraction, too.
When they stepped inside Italiano’s, only about five tables were occupied. She’d eaten there a few times, but only for lunch. The red checkered tablecloths and candles stuffed in the Chianti bottles screamed the seventies, but the atmosphere was cozy. Without waiting to be seated, as the sign prominently displayed on the stand requested, he escorted her to a table near the window. Max didn’t seem to be a rule breaker, so what was going on?
“You eat here often?” Zoey told her he did, but Jamie wasn’t sure if her friend had been exaggerating.
“Almost every night.”
Really? He looked so fit. She thought she’d become a creature of habit by eating her frozen dinners all the time. He was worse off by far.
“Do they save your table for you?”
“They do.”
Must be nice. Elissa, the waitress who’d served her a few times came over. “My, my.” She grinned, acting like she’d uncovered a safe hidden behind a painting. “Two for dinner?” She raised her brows almost if she expected him to explain Jamie’s presence.
“Very good, Elissa,” Max shot back. “Two is the correct number.” The genuine twinkle in his eye implied this banter was common between them.
Elissa laughed. “What can I get you two to drink?”
Jamie liked how she emphasized the word two. It meant she wasn’t offended. “Coffee for me.” She wanted to keep her wits about her.
“Coffee for you, too?” Elissa asked him.
“As always.”
The last time Jaime had been to Italiano’s she’d ordered the homemade ravioli with the tomato basil sauce. Because it had been so good, she opted for it again. Seconds later, Elissa returned with their drinks.
“You ready to order?”
“Ladies first,” Max said.
That was new for her. Benny often ordered before her. “Number seven.” She pointed to the menu item.
“Excellent choice.”
“I’ll have the lasagna,” Max said.
Elissa’s brows rose. “You’re in a good mood.” She smiled, made a note on her pad, and scurried toward the kitchen.
Jamie leaned forward. “Do you normally order the same thing?”
“I always have some kind of chicken or fish, but I’m in the mood for a change tonight.”
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Was it because of their date? She could only hope. “You don’t eat red meat?”
“I do, but when I’m at Italiano’s, I like how they prepare their non-red meat dishes better. If I go to the Steerhouse, I’ll have steak.”
What an interesting man. As much as Jamie enjoyed learning about him, her mind was buzzing with what she’d found out about Jonathan. Once she got that off her chest, she could relax and focus on Max. “I, ah, did some research on what Jonathan said.”
Max’s brows rose. “Do tell.”
“Your explanation of his mentioning monster truck made total sense to me. Jonathan probably was referring to the upcoming event. I’m thinking that perhaps when he was in the service, he went to a rally. When he heard a show was coming to Rock Hard, he was thinking about it.”
“Sounds reasonable. Go on.”
Elissa brought over the wonderful smelling coffee, and Jamie took a sip, even though it was piping hot. “I figured the number forty-seven didn’t mean anything in and of itself, so I moved on to concut.”
Max centered his mug in front of him, but he didn’t drink it. “And?”
“When I put that word in a search engine, nothing came up, but then I remembered what you said.”
“Me?”
“That it might be an address. I went to the map function and typed in 47 Concut. A couple of places showed up, but only one with a D in the state’s name.”
Max’s fingers tightened on the coffee mug. “D? You never mentioned a letter.”
His interest seemed to have peaked. “I forgot Jonathan had mumbled it at the end. I didn’t think it meant anything at first. Guess what came up?”
Max shook his head. “I have no earthly idea. What?”
“It’s a street in Washington, D.C. When I went to the street view, I found it was the FBI building.”
He whistled. “Really.” He studied her for a moment. “So what do you plan to do with your information?”
“Go back and talk to Jonathan. Find out what’s really going on.” She picked up her napkin and placed it on her lap. “From the moment I met Jonathan, I knew there was something different about him. He was smart. Well spoken. I figured he had PTSD or something, and that was why he was homeless. When I visited him in the hospital, he looked quite different. I know they had to cut his beard and shave part of his head because of the wound, but his skin tone was more olive and…and he was thinner.” She sucked in a big breath. “Something’s going on. I actually thought he might be some undercover FBI agent.”
Max pressed his lips together. “There is something going on.” He shook his head and glanced to the ceiling, indecision crossing his face. Max reached out and clasped her hand. “I’m sorry, Jamie. There are some things about him that you don’t know. I want to tell you what those things are, but I’m in the middle of an ongoing investigation, and that limits what I’m allowed to say. I’m going to ask you to trust me for the next few days while I file the appropriate paperwork. Then I can tell you something. In the meantime, can you not visit Jonathan or ask around about him?”
She stilled. “You think it could put me in danger?”
“That’s exactly what I’m worried about. And it’s precisely why I need you to trust me.”
She sank back in her seat. “Oh, shit. Do think those men who chased me, knew about Jonathan? That they saw me stop and chat with him every day? They might think he told me something.” Dread oozed through her.
“Did he?”
“No.” She glanced around to see if anyone was looking over at her. Her voice had escalated. “I told you. We only talked about his bum leg, the weather, and knock-knock jokes.”
His face relaxed. “Are you sure you are hiding something? For all I know, you’re some super villain, like Cat Woman. Or maybe even an underworld mob boss. Huh?”
She let out a nervous laugh at his attempt at humor. She then sobered. This was worse than she ever imagined. “I’m scared, Max.”
He squeezed her hand. “That’s a good thing. I need you to be cautious.”
She inhaled. “Okay. Message delivered. No contact. No talking.”
“That a girl. Thank you.”
Elissa delivered their meals. “Here you go. Can I get you anything else?”
Jamie was happy for the distraction. “How about a triple vodka, straight up?”
Their server’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“No.” Jamie glanced at Max. “Perhaps just a glass of Merlot.”
“You got it.” Elissa looked at Max. “How about you?”
Max looked up at her. “I’ll stick with coffee.”
Elissa winked at him, and strutted away with a definite swing to her hips.
Jamie glanced in their server’s direction. A wave of jealousy slammed into her, but she forced it back down. Jamie liked Max. A lot. Even more so, now that he’d been straightforward with her. His need to protect her brought much comfort. “She seems taken with you.”
A slight color raced up his face. “Hardly. I tip well, that’s all. Besides, I’m old enough to be her father.”
Elissa looked close to twenty-five. Jamie wasn’t sure if that was Max’s way of saying he thought she was too young, too, or if he was fishing for a compliment. “What are you? Thirty-six?” Amber said he was a little older than Thad.
“Forty-three if you must know.”
He didn’t look it. But forty-three was hardly old. “Ancient by anyone’s standards.” Flirting with him partially eased the fear that had been rekindled with the news he had almost shared.
“I feel ancient.” He reached down and rubbed his thigh. But then he winked. “Careful with the old man jokes. I’m falling apart at the seams.”
“Aren’t we all?”
Max leaned forward. “Okay. Serious stuff aside, I want to know more about you.”
Jamie was happy for the change of topic, and she was thrilled that he liked her enough to ask. He already knew the bad stuff. “What do you want to know?”
“What made you go into hospice care?”
“How did you know I was a hospice nurse?” She held up a palm. “Amber told you, right?”
“Bingo. Trust me when I say that when I found out what you did for a living, my respect skyrocketed.”
No one had said they’d respected her because of her career. Not even her mom. “Because I was a nurse?”
“Yes, but especially for being a hospice nurse. I don’t think I could be around death day in and day out and keep my wits about me. How did you do it?” His sincerity warmed her insides.
She’d often asked herself the same thing. “I guess I got used to it, but I won’t deny it was hard. I first became a nurse because I wanted to help people. Hospice came later.” She drank some of her coffee.
“Do you like the clinic work better?”
“It’s a nice change.” She wanted to take the focus off herself. Actually, she needed it. “Now, it’s my turn. Tell me why you decided to go into law enforcement.”
When he didn’t answer right away, she took the opportunity to stuff a large ravioli in her mouth. Mmm. The rich taste of basil and warm tomatoes was divine. Elissa placed her wine on the table, smiled, and drifted away.
“It’s a long story. You sure you want to hear it?”
“I don’t have to be anywhere.” Jamie really enjoyed this lighter side of Max. Hell, she liked everything about him. Whether he was serious or trying to be humorous.
His eyes brightened. “It’s boring, but you asked for it. I went into law enforcement, partially for practical reasons.” Max leaned back in his seat, but kept his gaze on Jamie’s face.
“Practical, huh? Sometimes it’s more fun to think with your heart. I loved to help people, so that’s how I ended up being a nurse. If I’d been practical, I probably would have entered academia, and made more money.” Damn. She hadn’t meant to turn the conversation back on herself. “Sorry. Interrupting was rude. Go ahead with your logical reasons for going into law enforcement.�
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From the way his lips began to curl upward, he got her jab. “I graduated from high school with so-so grades, probably because my folks never pushed me to do well. They assumed I’d work in the paper mill like my dad, and saw little need for an education. Which was why my family was poor. Dad had no real ambition. Anyway, I tried the assembly line for six months, and decided there was no way in hell I could take the daily grind, so I chose college instead.” He waved his fork, as if he wanted to duel with the spoon she was gripping.
Jamie set down the utensil, and picked up her wine glass. His dilemma hit home. “I bet that was hard, having parents who didn’t support your decision to pursue an education.” There had never been any doubt that she’d go to college.
“It was, especially since I had to pay for it.”
“Ouch. That sounds really tough. I couldn’t imagine having to support myself at that age. My mom was a psychologist and could afford to send me to school.” Jamie held up her hand. “Suffice it to say, she was a big proponent of me getting a degree or two.”
“You were lucky.”
Jamie saw college as a way to leave home, but she was fortunate her mom had paid for it. “I was. Did you work your way through college or save first?”
“A bit of both. I got a job working for a guy who had a snowplow business. Cleaned people’s driveways during the winter. It was a good gig, until spring arrived. Though, with the money I had earned, I could afford a few classes at the community college.”
“I thought you had a four-year degree.” Maybe her information had been wrong.
“That came later. Much later. At RHJC, I stumbled onto a criminal justice class I found fascinating. Near the end of the semester, our professor brought in a guest speaker by the name of Detective Dan Hartwick of the RHPD.”
Jamie smiled. “Cade and Thad’s boss. Did his little talk convince you to go into law enforcement?”
“It did. He told me if I got my AA degree, to come see him for a job. And the rest is history.”
