She hadn’t. That was the problem.
Macy’s outrageous suggestion mixed her up. Confused her. With her mind playing devil’s advocate, she marched from the wing of doctors’ offices into the hospital section of the building.
She wasn’t the type of person to play games. To use a man to get another. Although, the suggestion did hold merit, she thought, weaving through the busy corridor. It wasn’t just men who wanted what they couldn’t have. Women were just as bad. Sometimes worse. It was human nature. Therefore, it was feasible that if Stephan saw her with another guy, endorphins, testosterone—or some other kind of hormone—could kick in and wake his cute ass up.
She pulled the door open to radiology and walked inside. Slow day. Only a handful of people sat in the waiting room, and no one stood at the window. Since it was slow, she didn’t bother to go in the back. “Hi, Sally.” She handed the file to the receptionist. “This is from Dr. Greenwald.”
The woman took the file and smiled. “Has he asked you out yet?”
Darn. Did everyone know about her crush?
“No.” Emma sighed.
Pity darkened Sally’s gaze. “Well, hang in there.”
Nodding, Emma turned around and marched for the door. She was going to do better than “hang.” She was going to do something about it. No more pitiful stares. No more waiting for Stephan to ask her out. It was time to up the ante. Time to play her final card. To utilize her last resort.
Macy’s advice.
Now all she needed was a man willing to pretend to date her for a week or two, to show Stephan other men found her desirable.
Shoulders back, chin held high, she opened the door into the corridor, and it jolted in her hand with a sickening thud.
Followed by a muffled curse from the other side.
Emma’s heart rocked in her chest. She just smacked a stranger with the door.
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” She stepped aside to shut the stupid thing, and tried to assess the damage.
A tall man with broad shoulders that tapered into a lean torso pushed a clump of dark hair out of his amber eyes and blinked. Relief coursed through her to find no blood or bruising on his face.
His handsome face.
Her pulse hiccupped.
“It’s okay,” he said in a sexy low timbre she felt to her toes.
Hysterical laughter bubbled up her throat. Just her luck. She whacked a gorgeous guy. The only thing that could’ve been worse would’ve been to find Stephan on the other side of the door.
Exhaustion lined her victim’s eyes and mouth. “No harm done, ma’am.”
Ma’am?
Disappointment crashed through her body and cancelled the tingling in her chest. He was military. Of course he was. She was on a freaking Army base.
With a curt nod, he brushed past her, rubbing his shoulder as he strode down the hall. After he disappeared around a corner, she shook her head and walked back to the office, determined to put the embarrassing moment out of her mind.
At least she wouldn’t have to worry about running into him again.
Chapter Two
Vince rotated his aching shoulder, scowling at no one in particular. Why the hell did the hospital have doors that opened into the corridor?
Icing on the cake from his day from hell.
The woman sure was pretty, though…
Focus. Dom was one floor up, and the reason Vince was in Georgia. Not to find a date.
Arriving at the elevator lobby, he eyed the people milling about and decided to use the stairs. He needed to get to Dom soon. His thickheaded brother would try to leave to get back to his men, no matter what kind of injuries he suffered. And since Vince had no idea what those injuries were, other than non-life-threatening, he increased his pace.
An image of the cute brunette flashed through his mind again as he took the steps two at a time. Color had risen into her cheeks, deepening the blue of her horrified gaze. It would take a hell of a lot more than a door to do any actual damage to him. Something she’d never know, since the chances of running into the beauty again were slim to none.
Forcing her out of his mind, he concentrated on his brother.
A brother whose grumbling Vince heard echoing down the hall the instant he stepped onto the floor.
“I don’t need any damn pain medication. Just give me my gear and shove me on a plane.”
Relief eased the tightness from Vince’s shoulders. His brother would be fine.
“You won’t do your men any good with cracked ribs, a dislocated hip, or back spasms.” A calm, tolerant, feminine voice drifted out as Vince neared the room. “You need therapy if you want to be cleared to join them on the next mission.”
“Next mission?” his brother’s voice boomed. “What the hell, Doc? I can’t just sit around. I’m not made that way. I’m fine. Just clear me so I can get the hell out of here and do my job.”
“Sorry, Captain Acardi,” the doctor said, her tone still calm and patient. “You’re asking me to not do my job, and I’m not made that way.”
Hovering just outside the room, Vince smiled. Two points to the doctor for using his brother’s words against him.
“If you want me to clear you, then you’ll come here four times a week for therapy.”
“Four?” Dom asked. “Why not seven?”
A soft chuckle drifted into the hall. “I appreciate your sudden enthusiasm, but I want you to heal, not overtax the muscles and cause more damage.”
As much as Vince was enjoying his brother’s losing verbal battle, he decided it was time to make his presence known.
With the smile still on his lips, he braced for the impact of his brother’s injured appearance and entered the room. “My apologies, Doctor. Dom was born with an oversize PITA gene he never did learn how to control.”
The doctor lifted a perfectly arched brow as she met his gaze. “And you are?”
“Vince Acardi.” He extended his hand. “The PITA’s older brother.”
“Dr. Palmer,” she replied, shaking his hand.
Average height, auburn hair pulled back in some sort of a bun, green eyes full of intelligence. Pretty in the kind of way his brother had a weakness for. Dom always did have a soft spot for redheads, but his charms were clearly not working on this woman.
Which probably explained Dom’s grimace. That…and pain from his injuries.
Jesus, he was mess. Taped ribs. Cut on his cheek. Bruises on his forehead that matched the bruising on his arms and chest. Eyes sunken in a face with skin that appeared too tight.
“Don’t worry,” he said, releasing her hand. “I’ll make sure the PITA is at therapy four times a week, and that he takes his medication like a good soldier.” Vince suppressed a grin when his brother flipped him off behind the doctor’s back.
With both hands.
“Good.” She nodded, then turned to Dom. “I know you want to rejoin your men, Captain, but you can’t. You’re not capable now. At best, you’re subpar.”
Holy shit.
Vince barely refrained from sucking in a breath as he watched his brother’s mouth slam shut. No one, outside of family, ever dared to call Dominic Acardi feeble.
This was great.
“But I promise you this,” she went on as if his brother’s knuckles weren’t cracking in his clenched fists. “If you follow my instructions for the next two to three weeks—and those of the physical therapist I assign—then you’ll be ready to command the next mission.”
His brother groaned. “Two weeks?”
“Or three.”
Vince’s heart dropped to his knees. Damn. He’d hoped to be back at the ranch in a couple of days. Leaving his kitchen to someone else for two weeks was inviting disaster. Jovy and Stone’s wedding menu aside, he had his hands full with everyday meals.
There were veterans with food allergies, diabetes, certain likes and dislikes, and several with social issues who opted to eat in their bunk instead of joining everyone else at the table in the main house.
Dr. Palmer looked his brother over one more time. “Now that I know you have someone here to take you home, I’ll get your discharge started.” She turned to Vince and held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Acardi. Good luck,” she added with a slight quirk to her lips before exiting the room.
His brother blew out a breath. “What the hell just happened?”
Releasing the stranglehold on his glee, Vince laughed all the way to the foot of the bed. “You were just put in your place by your very pretty doctor. But I agree with her a thousand percent.”
Muttering an oath, Dom flipped him off again.
He chuckled. “I’m guessing you haven’t had the chance to glance in a mirror. Trust me, bro. You look like hell.”
His brother smirked. “Explains why I feel like hell.”
“Want to tell me what happened that spurred the call that sucked ten years off my life?” He held Dom’s weary stare, knowing it wasn’t likely he’d get an answer, or the whole one, but he thought he’d try.
Frustration flashed through his brother’s eyes. “I was positioned on the roof of a building that collapsed.”
Shit.
Vince held his emotions in check. “You were damn lucky.”
Dom lifted a shoulder, but the anxiety pressing down on his brow told Vince what his brother kept inside.
“You weren’t the only one on that roof.”
His brother swallowed and shook his head. “I was with an Iraqi informant. I’ve no idea what happened to him.”
That explained the haunted look.
“Leo still has ties there,” he said. “I’ll call him later and see if he can find anything out for you.”
Dom slowly exhaled, and relief brightened his expression. “Thanks.” He tossed the covers back and grimaced. “How’s he doing?”
“Great,” Vince replied, grateful a pair of scrubs covered his brother’s bottom half. “He’s off the bottle. Taking on more responsibility at Foxtrot. Even joined a bowling league.”
“Good to hear.” A smile tugged his brother’s tight lips.
Vince agreed. It was a far cry from the guy who’d mixed medication with booze in an attempt to silence memories of one of their final missions.
“Do you have an extra shirt?” Face drawn and pale, his brother gripped the bed rail and slowly rose to his feet. “Not much left of my uniform.”
And not something Vince wanted to see. “Yeah, in my rental car. Don’t be in such a hurry. We still have to wait for the nurse to come in with the papers.” He pointed to the bed. “Sit your ass back down before you fall down. I’ll go find the top half of your scrubs.”
Dom answered with a glare before shuffling to a chair in the corner, then proceeded to curse through his clenched teeth as he lowered himself onto the cushion.
Vince cocked his head. “You know, pain meds will take the edge off.”
“Like I told the doc. I don’t need them,” the idiot replied, sweat beading across his forehead and upper lip.
He sighed.
It was going to be a long two to three weeks.
…
Day one-hundred-and-five down the drain.
Emma sighed as she turned onto her street after work. She really thought something special was going to happen today. Like Stephan asking her out. She’d felt it. But, other than whacking that cute soldier with the door, nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.
An image of the guy with thick, dark lashes rimming warm brown eyes flashed through her mind. Darn shame he was military. Although, even if he wasn’t, it wouldn’t matter. She was no quitter, and she’d put a lot of time and effort into getting Stephan to ask her out. Not to mention years of pining over him. It wasn’t over yet, though. A lot could happen in seventeen days.
The instant Emma pulled into her driveway, all thoughts of Stephan and the deadline disappeared from her mind. Right now, she had a more immediate problem.
Prickles of concern spread across her shoulders. An unfamiliar car sat in her neighbor’s driveway.
It wasn’t his. The Army Ranger was still on a mission with his unit.
Most of the time, those guys left and returned without notice, but Dom wasn’t back. She knew this because fifteen minutes ago she passed his truck on her way off the base. His “parked” truck. Which meant he hadn’t returned.
So who in the world was in her neighbor’s house?
Intent on finding out, Emma got out of her car with Dom’s house key in hand—the key entrusted to her for keeping an eye on the place whenever he was gone—and sneaked into his yard.
The day she’d moved into the house next door, he’d shown up in her driveway and pitched in. The fact he never once made a move on her was refreshing. They became fast friends.
Unease raced down her spine. For over a year now, she’d never had an issue with his place. Emma glanced in the windows on her way to the back of the house. Relief and alarm vied for top billing when she saw nothing.
Keeping her panic in check, she sneaked past the pool and hot tub and onto the back porch, surprised to find the door intact. And locked. No sign of forced entry. With adrenaline kicking up her pulse, she used the key to slip quietly into the kitchen.
Then stopped dead.
A tall man, with his back to her, stood rummaging through Dom’s cabinets.
Everything inside Emma tensed up tight.
Holy crap…
Intruder!
Who else had she expected to find when a stranger’s car sat in the freaking driveway? The cleaning lady?
Oh yeah, that’s right. She was the freaking cleaning lady.
With her heart beating out of her chest, Emma reached for her phone, only to remember it was in her purse…on the front seat of her car.
Darn it. Why hadn’t she dialed 911 instead of playing cop?
Too late to retrace her steps, she said a silent prayer and launched herself at the man’s back. In a series of moves too quick for her mind to register, she was flipped through the air and landed on her back with a thud.
As she worked to catch her breath, Emma stared up at a pair of familiar, thickly lashed brown eyes, crinkled in a frown.
Chapter Three
“You!” Emma blinked up at the man she’d hit with the door earlier that day. “What are you doing here?”
His frown remained as he reached for her. “Who are you?”
Alarm replaced Emma’s momentary stupor. She slapped his hand away and scooted backward on her butt. “I could ask you the same thing. Are you following me?”
Idjit.
Of course he wasn’t. She’d only just arrived. Technically, she’d followed him.
Plus, there was the small fact that this wasn’t even her house.
“Following you?” He gave her a weird look. “Lady, I don’t even know who you are.”
Scrambling to her feet, she eyed the knives sticking out of the block on the counter to his right. “Ditto. Let’s call the police and let them sort it out.”
Why were the good-looking ones either taken, conceited, gay, or crazy?
“Emma?” A gruff voice called from the doorway to the living room behind her.
Twisting around, she found her neighbor leaning against the doorframe. “Dom? When did you get… Oh my God!” She sucked in a breath. “What did he do to you?”
Deep red, purplish bruises covered his face, neck, and arms. She couldn’t tell where one ended and another started. They were everywhere. Even his fingers.
Overcome with a fierce protectiveness, she placed her body between the two men, held up her fists, and glowered at the intruder. “You lay another hand on him and I’ll…hit you so hard you won’t be able to tell me who you are because…you won’t remember your name.”
Lame.
Yeah, but she was running
on adrenaline and had no control of her mouth. She did, however, have control of her fists, and refused to let anything else happen to her friend. Dom was a lean, muscled, fighting machine. It didn’t compute in her brain for him to receive such a beating without putting so much as one mark on the other guy.
The intruder balked. “Wait a minute. You think I did that to him?”
Before she could reply, spurts of laughter rumbled behind her, intermixed with bouts of coughing and an occasional muffled oath.
“Never happen.” Dom choked on a laugh as he moved around her. “Damn, that hurts.” Doubled over, he waved a hand at her and the other guy. “Emma, meet my brother, Vince. Vince, meet my neighbor, Emma.”
Brother?
Lowering her fists—just an inch, because she still didn’t understand what was going on—she tried to recall what Dom had told her about his brother.
Former Army Ranger who now worked on a ranch. “From Texas?”
“Yes.” His guarded expression eased as he thrust out his hand.
Still in defense mode, she jerked back.
“Hey.” He frowned and held his hands up. “It’s okay. I just wanted to say it was nice to finally meet my brother’s neighbor. He told me you watch his place when he’s gone.”
She glanced from his hands to the concern in his warm brown eyes. “Sorry. I-I’m still processing.” Heat rushed into her cheeks as she slowly offered her hand. “Not sure what’s taking my brain so long.”
Or why she shook like a chihuahua in a blizzard.
What the heck?
“It’s okay. It’s normal.” He gently shook her hand and motioned toward the high-backed stools that bordered one side of the center island. “You’ll be fine. It’s just the adrenaline wearing off.”
Right. Because she was an idiot who’d just tried to take on an intruder.
She eyed her injured neighbor as he slowly shuffled across the kitchen to ease his battered frame onto one of the chairs on her right. Her mind finally registered the fact he wore a pair of gray sweats and an unzipped hoodie over a bared torso that looked like one big bruise, with a bandage wrapped around the middle like a mummy. Probably too painful to slip on a shirt, she reasoned, and her heart squeezed. “Shouldn’t you be lying down?”
Army Ranger with Benefits_the Men of At-Ease Ranch Page 2
