by Helen Lacey
“I don’t think we’re even in the same chapter,” she said. “You’re something of an enigma, Brant. You’re a good guy when you want to be, but underneath all that, I don’t think you really allow anyone to see the real you at all.”
She was so close to the truth he fought the instinctive urge to get up and leave. But he stayed where he was and met her gaze. “Is that your professional opinion?”
She shrugged lightly. “That’s my honest opinion.”
Brant drained his cup and looked at her. “If you’ve finished your tea we should probably get back to see how my uncle is doing.”
“You see, that’s exactly my point. I’ve pushed a button by getting personal and now you want to bail.” She pushed her chair back and grabbed her bag. “You should talk to your mom and your brother,” she said frankly as she stood. “They’re genuinely worried about you.”
He knew that. But he wasn’t ready for an intervention. He wanted to forget. “I don’t—”
“You can tell me to mind my own business,” she said, cutting him off. “But your mother trusts and confides in me, and I like her too much to dismiss her concerns. And your brother is concerned enough that he asked me to talk to you. If you don’t want to discuss it with the people who care about you, at least make an appointment to speak with Dr. Allenby.”
She walked off before Brant had a chance to respond. By the time he was on his feet and out of the cafeteria she was halfway down the corridor and heading for the elevator. When he reached her he was as wound up as a spring. He grasped her hand and turned her around.
“Have we stepped into some dimension where you get to tell me what to do?” he asked.
She didn’t move, didn’t pull away. Her hand felt small in his, but strong, and when her fingers wrapped around his, Brant experienced a pull toward her that was so intense he could barely breathe. The sensation was powerful and all consuming. He met her gaze and felt the connection through to his bones.
“Brant...”
She said his name on a sigh and he instinctively moved closer. Her eyes shone and her mouth parted ever so slightly. It was pure invitation and in that moment all Brant wanted to do was to kiss her. Only the fact that they were standing in a hospital corridor and people were walking past stopped him.
“I’ll sort things out with my family, okay?” he said more agreeably than he felt as he released her.
“And Dr. Allenby?” she asked, relentless.
“I don’t need a shrink,” he said and pressed the elevator button.
When the elevator door opened she walked inside and Brant stepped in behind her.
“You know he specifically works with veterans, right?” she reminded him. “You were in a war, Brant. And you went through things a civilian like me couldn’t possibly understand. But one conversation with Dr. Allenby doesn’t mean you’re his patient.”
Brant ignored her remark and once they rode the elevator up two floors they walked out. Lucy’s shoulders were tight and he knew she was upset with him. But he wasn’t about to open up about anything. Not the war. And not what he went through. It was over. Done. It was the past and Brant was determined to live in the present...it was the very least he owed the men who had lost their lives on the ridge that day.
His uncle was awake and seemed happy to see them. Lucy discreetly grabbed the chart at the foot of the bed and glanced over it for a moment.
“As you can see, I’ve been poked and prodded.” Joe grinned and then winked at Lucy. “Although I would’ve much rather you do the prodding, Doc.”
“Uncle Joe,” Brant said, frowning “That’s not really appropriate to—”
“Oh, settle down,” his uncle said and laughed. “I’m not seriously trying to cut in on your action with this lovely woman.”
Brant shifted uncomfortably as heat rose up his neck. Uncle Joe had a wicked sense of humor and most days Brant found him amusing and enjoyed listening to his stories. But he wasn’t in the mood for Joe’s levity at the moment.
“Good,” he said, seeing Lucy’s brows rise slightly.
The cardiologist returned before any more was said and they spoke at length about his uncle’s tests scheduled for that afternoon. Considering his history, the cardiac specialist made it clear that he would be keeping Joe at the hospital for a couple of days for further testing and monitoring, and to determine if he required surgery. Lucy asked several questions and Brant listened intently, thinking how grateful he was she was there.
Once the doctor left, Joe spoke again. “Now, I need a nap, so take this lovely young woman to lunch and let me rest.”
He nodded. “Sure. I have to pick up some materials for the Loose Moose while I’m in town, so we’ll head over to Home Depot and come back later.”
Joe already had his eyes closed and a minute later they were back in the elevator.
“If you have an errand to run I can hang out in the cafeteria,” she said as they headed toward the ground floor.
“You’d prefer to be alone?” he asked as they stepped out of the elevator.
“Well...no, but I—”
“Let’s go, then,” he said and kept walking.
When they reached his truck, Brant opened the passenger door and stood aside for her to climb inside. He waited while she strapped into the seat belt and then closed the door. Once he was in the driver’s seat, he started the truck and drove from the parking lot.
“Do you mind if we make a stop before lunch?” he asked. “I have the kitchen going in in the next couple of weeks and want to make sure the contractor has everything that I asked for.”
“I don’t mind.”
Brant took a left turn. “So, how did my uncle seem to you?”
“Good,” she replied. “The testing this afternoon will confirm how much damage was done to his heart from his attack yesterday. If he needs surgery he’ll probably go in during the next few days. And if he does, then we’ll speak with the surgeon together so you’ll know exactly what will be done.”
Her words calmed him. “Thank you. I appreciate your help with this.”
She shrugged lightly. “I like Joe. He’s a good man.”
“Yeah,” Brant agreed. “He’s the best.”
“He loves you a lot.”
“It’s mutual.”
“You’re lucky,” she said quietly. “I mean, to have such a caring family.”
“I know.” Brant glanced sideways and noticed her hands were bunched tightly in her lap. He thought about her words and then realized how alone she was. “You must miss your mom.”
“I do,” she replied. “Every day.”
He looked straight ahead. “I think... I think that sometimes I take my family for granted.”
“You probably do,” she returned bluntly. “But when you’ve always had something, it’s easy to forget its value.”
Brant bit back a grin. “That’s very philosophical of you.”
“I’m a deep-thinking girl.”
She was a lot of things. Beautiful. Smart. Funny. Annoying. And kind. Lucy Monero was just about the nicest person he’d ever met. And if he had any sense he’d stay well clear of her and her knowing green eyes.
Yeah...that’s what he should do.
That’s what he would do.
Starting tomorrow.
Chapter Five
Tuesday was a long and emotionally tiring day in the ER and by the time Lucy pulled up in the driveway it was past six o’clock. Boots was in his usual spot in the front window and meowed loudly once she opened the front door and walked inside. She dropped her bag and keys on the sideboard in the hallway and walked into the kitchen. She needed a cup of strong tea, a shower and about an hour or two to unwind in front of the television.
Lucy filled the kettle, fed the cat and headed fo
r the bathroom.
I look tired, she thought as she stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Not surprising. Some days were harder than others. And today had been as hard as any ever got for a doctor.
Fifteen minutes later she was showered and dressed in gray sweats that were shapeless but comfortable. She pulled her hair into a messy topknot, shoved her feet into sheepskin slippers and wandered back into the kitchen. She made tea and left the bag in while she perused the contents of the refrigerator, quickly figuring she should have stopped at the grocery store on the way home. She was just about to settle on a noodle cup when her cell rang. It was Brooke.
“Hey, there,” her friend said cheerfully. “How’s everything?”
“Fine,” she lied, thinking she didn’t want to get into a discussion about her day. “Same as usual. You?”
“Okay. Spent the day repairing fences. And I had a dress fitting.”
Brooke was a bridesmaid at Grady and Marissa’s upcoming wedding. The event was only a couple of weeks away and Lucy knew her friend had been helping with the preparations. “Sounds like fun.”
“It was more fun than I’d imagined,” Brooke said then chuckled. “You know I’m not much into frills and frocks. I don’t suppose I could get you to give me a hand with my hair and makeup on the day of the wedding? And Colleen wanted me to ask you if you’d help out getting the girls ready.”
She meant Grady’s three young daughters who were all flower girls. “Of course,” she said and laughed. “Anything you need.”
“Great,” Brooke said, sounding relieved. “This is my first gig as a bridesmaid and I don’t want to screw it up.”
“You won’t,” she assured her friend who she knew was more at home in jeans and a plaid shirt than satin and high heels. “You’ll do great. And just remember that—” She stopped speaking when her cell beeped, indicating an incoming call. “Hang on a minute, I have a call coming in. It might be the hospital.” She put her friend on hold and checked the incoming number, realizing it wasn’t one she recognized. “Hello?”
“Have you eaten, Lucia?”
Lucy stilled as Brant’s deep voice wound up her spine. “Ah...no. Not yet.”
He was silent for moment. “Feel like sharing a pizza?”
Pizza? With Brant? Was he asking her out on a date?
Maybe I’m hallucinating?
“Oh...I...okay. But if we’re going out I need to change my clothes so I’ll—”
“No need, I’m outside,” he said then hung up.
Seconds later there was a knock on her door. Lucy pushed some life into her legs and headed down the hallway. She opened the door and saw Brant on the other side of the security screen, dressed in jeans, a soft green sweater and his leather jacket, a pizza box in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other. She fumbled with the cell phone and took Brooke off hold.
“I gotta go,” she said quietly and opened the screen door.
“Everything all right?” Brooke asked.
“Fine,” she said as he lingered on the threshold. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Once she ended the call, Brant’s gaze flicked to the phone. “Am I interrupting something?”
“No,” she replied. “I was just talking to Brooke. Um...what are you doing here?”
He held up the pizza box. “I told you. Dinner.” His eyes glittered. “With a friend.”
Lucy wasn’t entirely convinced. “So this is not a date?”
She couldn’t believe the words actually came out of her mouth.
He shook his head. “No, just a pizza and drinks. But only if you like beer,” he added. “I wasn’t sure. I can duck out and get wine instead if you’d prefer?”
“I like beer,” she said and stepped aside. His cheeks were pink, she noticed, as if he’d been standing out in the cold night air for a while. “You look cold,” she said and ushered him inside and then closed the door.
“I’m okay.”
“At least it’s stopped snowing,” she said and started walking down the hallway. “But the air has a real bite to it tonight. I think we’re in for a long and cold winter.”
“You’re probably right,” he said and followed her.
“I have a fireplace in the front living room that usually gets a workout every winter.”
When they reached the kitchen he paused in the doorway. Lucy noticed his expression narrow as he raised a brow. “Well, it’s all very circa 1975 in here.”
She managed a grin. “I heard that retro is making a comeback.”
“Not to this extent,” he said about the gaudy color scheme and old-fashioned timber paneling. “It’s very bright.”
“It’s awful,” she admitted. “But I can’t afford any renovations until next summer, so it has to stay like this until then. Wait until you see the bathroom,” she said and laughed a little, feeling some of the tension leave her body. “It’s baby pink, all over. My mom loved all things retro so she was very much at home here. Me...not so much. I’ve painted a few walls in the living room and bedrooms, but the rest will have to wait.”
He grinned and placed the pizza box on the table. “I hope you like pepperoni.”
Lucy smoothed her hands over her full hips briefly. “Do I look like a fussy eater to you?”
He laughed and the sound warmed her blood. God, he had the sexy thing down pat. Even though she was sure he didn’t know it. She’d accused him of being egotistical, but didn’t really believe it.
“You look fine.”
Fine? Lucy glanced down at her baggy sweats and woolen slippers. Good enough for friends, she suspected. Since he’d made it abundantly clear that’s all they were.
“So, were all your other friends busy tonight?”
He stilled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She shrugged. “Merely curious about why you’re really here.”
“I told you,” he said, taking two beers and popping open the tabs. “Pizza with a friend. But if you need a more complicated reason...let’s call it a thank-you for your kindness toward my uncle yesterday.”
Lucy nodded slowly. “Did you see him today?”
“Yes, this morning. He’s scheduled for bypass surgery on Friday.”
“I know,” she said and sighed. “I called the hospital this morning. I thought I would go and see him Friday morning before his surgery.”
“I’m sure he’d like that,” Brant said quietly. “I could meet you there. Or pick you up.”
That meant more time in his company.
Being around Brant Parker was quickly becoming a regular occurrence.
Spending six hours with him the day before had worn down her defenses. Of course, she’d convinced herself the day had been all about his uncle. And it had been...on the surface. But after he’d finished his errands and they’d had lunch at a café a few blocks down from the hospital, Lucy knew there was a whole lot more going on. She still liked him. Too much. Despite his sometimes moody ways and indifference toward her over the past few months.
“Sure,” she said vaguely. “I’ll let you know. So, where do you want to eat? Here, surrounded by this lovely decor?” she asked, waving a hand toward the gaudy cupboards. “Or on the sofa in the living room?”
“The sofa,” he replied.
Lucy grabbed the pizza box and read the writing on the top. “JoJo’s? My favorite.”
JoJo’s Pizza Parlor was something of an institution in Cedar River. In high school she’d hung out there most Monday nights with her calculus club. Kayla had also been part of her group. The token swan among a group of ugly ducklings. The rest of the group had moved on or moved away, but she and her friend had never strayed too far. Once Kayla finished college in Washington State, she’d returned home, and Lucy followed a few years later.
“It’s all in the secret sauce,” he said and followed her down the hall.
Lucy smiled fractionally. “Do you remember how Joss Culhane got caught trying to swipe the recipe from old Mr. Radici one night after the place was closed up? He used to work there after school and told me how he wanted to get the recipe and duplicate it.”
“I didn’t realize you were so friendly with the Culhanes.”
“I’m not,” she said. “But Joss was hoping that since I was half-Italian I’d be able to help with the translation.”
“And did you?”
“Not a chance,” she replied. “My Italian is about as good as my Latin. He should have asked you,” she said, placing the pizza box on the coffee table. “You speak a couple of languages, don’t you?”
He shrugged lightly. “A little French.”
She knew it was more than a little. Colleen had told her he was fluent. But he was being modest for some reason of his own. “Your mother told me that from your years in the military you also speak Arabic.”
“I speak some,” he said casually and came around the sofa. He placed her beer on the table and sat, grabbing up the remote. “There’s a replay of a game I missed on Sunday. Interested?”
Football? She’d rather stick a pencil in her eye. But she shrugged agreeably. “Sure.”
Pizza, beer and football.
They really were just friends.
If they were more than that, the conversation would be very different. She’d be in his arms, feeling his strength and comfort seep through her as she told him about her awful day. But she wouldn’t...because they weren’t.
Lucy positioned herself on the other side of the sofa and flipped the lid off the pizza box while he surfed channels with the remote. It seemed all too civilized. Like they’d done it countless times before. But inside she was reeling.
“You were a translator in the army, right?” she asked as she took a slice of pizza.
“Something like that.”
Her brows rose. “Secret stuff, huh?”
He carefully looked at the TV. “I prefer not talking about it.”
“I’m not trying to get into your head,” she said. “Just making conversation.”
