by Fiona Lowe
Dude. Charlie’s laughing voice sounded in his head. We swapped girlfriends all the time, so you must have it bad for this one if you’re jealous of her admiring me. I’m dead, remember.
As if he could forget. “Lusting after my brother in front of me isn’t cool.”
She laughed as if he was cracking a joke. “I want to meet him. He’s got a look of fun in his eyes that makes yours look almost tame.”
How had she noticed that? Most people couldn’t tell them apart when they were standing facing the two of them talking, let alone picking up on the biggest difference between them from a photograph.
“I bet the two of you together cause chaos.”
“We used to,” he said tightly, remembering how they’d each pretended to be the other and tricked their teachers, the girls they were dating and most of the town. “We’ve grown up now.”
“Sure,” she said, eyes dancing as she handed back the phone. “Is he in Australia?”
No. He stood and pulled her to her feet, wrapping his arms around her, loving the way she sank into his chest. “As much as I love Charlie, I can think of better things we could be doing.”
He nuzzled her neck and then flicked his tongue into the hollow at the base of it. She shivered against him and pressed her lips to his chest. That was all it took to make him hard. He wanted her so badly it took everything he had not to rush her down the hall and push her onto the bed. He wanted to end this awful day with something good. He wanted to banish the vision of a field of pain with her crying out his name and her muscles spasming around him so tightly that it pushed him into the bliss of oblivion.
There he could forget. Forget today. Forget that awful day almost two years ago. Pretend that part of him hadn’t shriveled and died with Charlie.
“Bed?” she asked, her eyes glazed with desire.
“Bed.”
They ran to the room and leaped onto the mattress, rolling together, both vying to be on top. He tucked her under him, and she smiled up at him before wrapping her legs around him. God, it felt amazing. She felt amazing. He lowered his head, planning to kiss her until she writhed against him, bumping her hips against his and begging him to enter her.
Beep, beep, beep.
Millie sighed. “This time it’s not me.”
He groaned. “It’s probably just McBain.”
“A guy with sex on the brain will keep texting until you reply, so how about you turn the phone off for five minutes?”
“Sweetheart, it’s gonna be off for a lot longer than that.”
She laughed and swatted his shoulder. “You don’t do modest, do you?”
He grinned down at her as he reached for the device. “Of course, if the lady doesn’t want the full treatment, I can reduce the time.”
She pressed her fingers to his lips. “That won’t be necessary.”
He propped himself up on an elbow, and as he went to push the power-off button he saw the words did all we could. He instantly rolled away from Millie, opened the text and read it. His hot blood chilled so fast it hurt.
MILLIE saw the moment Will paled under his healthy tan, and she automatically reached out her hand and touched his arm. “Jade?”
The young woman had been thrown through the windshield, and the human body wasn’t designed for that sort of brutality.
He shook his head, his nostrils flaring. “Lily.” His voice cracked on the young girl’s name.
Millie sat up so fast her head spun. “But . . .” She tried to marshal her chaotic thoughts as shock socked her hard. “Two hours ago they told us she was stable.”
“Yeah.” He blew out a long breath. “It turns out she had an undiagnosed cardiac malformation, and the stress of the tamponade was too much for her heart. She arrested again, and this time they couldn’t get her back.” He tossed the phone onto the bed with a vicious flick of his wrist and then scrubbed his face with his hands. “I thought we’d gotten away with it. I thought we’d fought off death today and won.”
His ragged words shocked her, because as an experienced emergency physician, he knew there were times when he couldn’t save everyone. As tragic and as unexpected as Lily’s death was, Millie knew that the only way to cope was to focus on the lives they’d saved, not the lives they’d lost. “In a way we did kind of win. We saved a lot of lives.”
“She was sixteen, Millie!” He slammed his fist into the mattress, and then he was suddenly yelling. “And a moron high on meth stole her life. It’s such a fucking waste.”
The agony in his voice made her jump. It was never easy to lose a patient, but the intensity of his reaction seemed almost personal—just like the savagery of his voice when they’d landed at the accident site and he’d seen the bodies strewn across the field.
He stared at the wall with a haunted look on his face, and when he spoke, he sounded almost defeated. “The same thing happens at home. Country towns, bored kids, drugs and alcohol, fast cars and a belief they’re invincible. They don’t get that sometimes I can’t pick up all of the pieces.”
I? Surely he meant we, as in the medical community? Only now wasn’t the time to ask or correct him. In fact, she got the distinct impression he didn’t want her to say anything. Truth be told, nothing she could say would change a thing, but he looked so shattered that she needed to do something.
Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him into her and held him close, his head resting in the crook of her neck. Stroking his hair with one hand, she rested the other on his ribs, feeling his chest expand and contract, and his breath rhythmically sweeping across her skin like a warm breeze. She rocked him slowly back and forth, wordlessly comforting him, while her mind jumped between the shock of Lily’s death and the strength of Will’s reaction for a patient he barely knew.
The rocking was hypnotic, and her eyes started to flutter closed when Will suddenly moved and pressed his lips gently against her throat. Slowly and steadily he trailed kisses upward until his mouth was on her cheek and his tongue was flicking in and out of her ear. Red, hot, fiery licks of desire arrowed straight down between her legs, making her gasp.
He lifted his head, and she caught a momentary shadow of something before the naked desire in his eyes obliterated it. “God, I want you.”
His throaty words made her wet. “I want you, too.”
He took her words as permission, grabbed a condom, and the next minute he’d rolled her under him without his usual finesse or gentleness, but she didn’t care, because she was aching for him, too. With a searing kiss that sucked the breath from her lungs and made her see stars, he thrust into her.
Surprise made her clench. Not that it hurt—it didn’t—it was just that every other time they’d had sex, he’d eased into her slowly and gently, opening her up little by little until she’d taken all of him into her and they’d started their rhythm together. This time, she felt like he was ahead in the game and she was playing catch-up.
Usually, he laughed and teased her, and he always checked with her that what he was doing was good for her. Now he was silent. He found her mouth again and kissed her as if he was inhaling her—as if he needed her breath to breathe. Leaving her panting, he tore his mouth away from hers, gripped her ankles and pulled her legs up over his shoulders. A moment later his hands lifted her buttocks.
With his chest heaving, he stared down at her, his navy eyes glittering and unfocused, and right then she knew he didn’t see her. He thrust into her, his body demanding her orgasm rather than giving it, and her body responded despite a voice in her head asking what the hell was going on.
With each press against her G-spot, she felt herself being pulled higher and higher up the mountain toward the precipice her body craved, but as glorious, amazing and intense as this journey was, she and Will were out of sync. She felt torn between her need and his, as if they were on totally separate roads to the same destination.
Sensation upon sensation hammered her, and her fingers dug into his thighs as her body craved the prize. He tensed
and then he was crying out and shuddering against her as his orgasm hit. It flung her out and over the edge as wave upon wave of pulsating, hedonistic pleasure rocked her.
When she fell back to earth, she realized that Will was slumped against her, a heavy, sweating, panting mess. She dragged in a breath and pushed at his shoulder. “Will. Can’t breathe.”
For a moment he didn’t move, and then he mumbled, “Sorry,” and propped himself up on one elbow. He stroked her cheek softly, and his eyes—twinkling again like they so often did—gazed down at her full of joy. “I take it from the state of the bed, that was your best orgasm yet.”
And technically it was, but it felt oddly empty because of the disconnect that had existed between them. It left her feeling that she could have gotten the same effect from her vibrator. “Are you feeling okay, Will?”
He laughed and kissed her swiftly. “Why are you even asking me that after such amazing sex?”
It was a rhetorical question, and he rolled her onto the dry side of the bed and pulled her in close, wrapping his arms around her and spooning in against her. A minute later he was snoring gently and Millie was left staring at the ceiling with a growing list of unanswered questions.
“MORNING, Will.”
Damn. His hand stilled on the gate, and he turned around to see a smiling Susie Switkowski sitting by the pool sipping coffee. He wasn’t embarrassed that she’d seen him, but he knew Millie wouldn’t be happy. “You’re up early, Susie,” he said with a friendly smile.
“I love this time of day, and I find doing laps very relaxing.” She picked up a cup. “Coffee?”
“Sure.” There was no point rushing off now Susie knew he’d spent the night. “I don’t have to be at the hospital until eight.”
She passed him the cream and sugar and offered him a plate of summer fruits and some Danish pastries. “Danny and I often have breakfast out here in the summer, but this is the first time I’ve ever met anyone leaving Millie’s.” She took a sip of coffee. “How is she?”
“Still asleep.”
“I meant how’s her diabetes.” A flicker of concern flashed in her eyes. “Is she stable?”
“I’m not her doctor, Susie,” he said politely but firmly, “and even if I was, I couldn’t tell you anything.”
“I know that.” Her sigh seemed to come from her feet. “I lost that right as a parent when she turned eighteen, but you’re obviously spending a lot of time with her.” A knowing smile slid quickly across her face. “It’s just she doesn’t tell Danny and me a thing unless she’s admitted to the hospital, and even then I’m not sure she always tells us.” Her face sagged and she suddenly looked her age. “We worry.”
He frowned. “Millie’s been hospitalized?”
She shuddered as if the memory was fresh. “She was in the ICU, and I know all those tubes and machines are normal for a medical person like you, but it was terrifying for us. That sort of fear never leaves you.”
An image of his parents standing in the ICU next to Charlie’s bed clutching each other for support and seeking reassurance from him that all the lines, tubes and machines would save his twin hit him hard. The thought of Millie in the ICU made it tough to breathe.
The doctor in him intervened. Hospitalization is expected if the initial presentation of diabetes is a dramatic hyperglycemia. “She’s on top of things, and I’m keeping a close eye on her, Susie.”
“Thank you, Will.” She gave his hand a quick squeeze. “For a few years there her future looked so bleak that we didn’t let ourselves think beyond just keeping her alive. Now she’s studying medicine and the two of you are obviously getting along great.”
A prickle of unease ran up his spine. He and Millie hadn’t even talked about anything beyond tomorrow, and he couldn’t see past this summer. Hell, he never looked very far ahead at all, because what was the point? You never knew what was around the corner waiting to explode the best-laid plans. “We’re just having fun, Susie.”
“Don’t look so panic-stricken, Will,” she said with a light laugh. “All Danny and I want is for Millie to be happy.”
But underneath that light laugh, Will heard an edge of steel that said, Hurt my daughter and deal with me.
Chapter 15
Saturday morning started out with a bang, and Tara couldn’t be happier. A student driver had reversed into a fire hydrant, sending a column of water high into the sky before it crashed down to flood Main Street. She’d detoured traffic while the fire department capped the hydrant and restored order. The moment that mess was cleaned up she’d gotten a call to attend to a domestic dispute.
She’d arrived to find Bethany Jacobs brandishing her silver crutch at her new neighbor after the guy’s pet pig had gotten out and trampled all of Bethany’s columbines and hollyhocks. After getting over the surprise that someone actually considered a pig a pet, Tara needed to draw on every mediation skill she had, along with her ability to make good coffee, before the situation had calmed. She still wasn’t convinced that Bethany wouldn’t follow through on her threat to turn the pig into bacon.
As Bethany lived on the far side of town, it made sense to do the morning patrol, and halfway through it she received a message from a tribal police officer on the Blackfeet Reservation asking her to put him in contact with Will Bartlett. As she was two blocks away from the hospital, she went straight there.
“G’day, Tara.” Will greeted her with a smile that probably got him everything he ever wanted.
She explained the situation, and much to her surprise, he immediately made the call. While he was on his cell, Millie appeared from behind a cubicle curtain and gave her a welcoming smile. She immediately returned it. There was something open and engaging about Millie, and if Tara had been the sort of woman who made friends, she’d probably choose Millie.
“Hi, Tara. Social call?”
“Police business. Just passing on a message to Will from the reservation. They’re having a meeting and a ceremony and wanted to get in touch with him.”
Millie’s smile immediately faded, and her gaze flicked to Will before returning to Tara. “It was pretty horrific, and they’re all in shock. I think a community gathering is a really good idea.”
“Talking won’t change anything,” Tara said tightly, thinking about the horrors of war and trying not to think about some of the awful things she’d seen growing up.
“Do you really believe that?” Millie’s expression was one of stunned surprise. “Obviously, talking doesn’t turn the clock back to the way things were, but it does give people a chance to grieve. It’s an opportunity to navigate their way through the trauma and hopefully find a way of reconciling with it. Believe me, it’s better than self-medicating and adding to the problem.”
Tara immediately got a flash of her mother sprawled unconscious on the sofa with an empty bottle of vodka on the floor. “I guess you may have a point.”
“But you’re not convinced,” Millie said with a wry smile. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re here because it saves me a call. It’s our street party tonight, and I’m hoping you’ll come.”
Tara got out her notebook. “Are you worried things might get out of hand?”
Millie’s laughter echoed around the department. “No. I just thought you’d like to come along as my guest.”
“Oh.” She immediately felt foolish that she’d missed the invitation. “Right. Thanks.”
“So you’ll come?” Millie smiled encouragingly, her eyes bright with enthusiasm.
You have nothing else on and you need a friend.
Ethan’s smiling face suddenly lit up in the back of her mind, and a shiver of longing shot through her along with something close to a lust chaser.
She tensed against it, trying to stop any ripple effect. I meant Millie. “I’ll try to stop by. Do I need to bring something?”
Millie shook her head. “Mom and I are making enough food to cover our friends. It starts at six but it’s totally casual, so just come when you can.”
Millie nodded vigorously, her curls jumping every which way. “I think you’d have to turn people away if you ran any sort of a gym class. We’ve never had a female personal trainer, and it would also help in other ways.”
“What do you mean?”
She sighed. “Sadly, there are some women in our county who find themselves in domestic violence situations. It’s my experience that they have to trust you before they’ll confide in you. If they see you in a different role out of the uniform, it’s only going to help.”
“That’s exactly what Ethan said.”
“Eth’s a smart guy,” Millie replied with a huge amount of respect in her voice. “You should listen to him.”
“Who’s smart?” Will asked, sliding his phone into his pocket as he walked over and stood unusually close to Millie. “You talking about me again, Mils?”
Millie rolled her eyes, but her expression was soft and warm. “Your ego’s bigger than Australia and the contiguous United States put together.”
Their teasing was easy and familiar, and Tara would have had to be blind not to see the genuine affection that flowed between them.
They’re having sex.
The thought hit her as fast as the unexpected slither of envy that snaked through her. Shocked by the envy, she immediately told herself she didn’t have anything to feel envious about. She didn’t miss sex—especially bad sex—and she certainly didn’t miss having a lying, cheating man in her life.
It’s not the sex. It’s the tenderness.
She tried to shrug away the unsettling feelings—she was being ridiculous. It was impossible to miss something she’d never really known.
Feeling uncomfortable, she quickly made her excuses and left the hospital, driving directly to the safety of the police station. Here she could hide behind protocol and rules and keep all that emotional crap at bay. Even better, she was going to pass the afternoon by burying herself in the never-ending pile of paperwork.
