Lucy & the Lieutenant

by Helen Lacey

  Of course her words were comforting. That’s what she did. She was a doctor—she knew how to phrase comfort and offer a soothing hand. But no matter how much he was tempted, Brant wasn’t about to get drawn even further into her web.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” he said flatly.

  “And he wants to get out of here as soon as possible,” she went on to say. “That’s often the best motivator for a swift recovery.”

  “Sure,” he said again and sat back in his seat.

  Her expression narrowed. “How are the renovations coming along?”

  Brant looked up. She was persistent, that’s for sure. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Try and take my mind off things. I’d prefer not to talk.”

  A spark seemed to fly from her gaze, as if she had an opinion but held it inside. He knew he was being a jerk. And that she was probably hurt by his words but was too stubborn to show it. It made him bite back a smile. Lucy Monero was full of opinions and passion and a kind of captivating intensity.

  “Okay...fine,” she said and pulled her cell phone from her tote as she shifted her eyes from his. “No talking.”

  Brant eased back into the chair and stared directly ahead. Within five minutes there was enough tension in the room to fill a stadium. He grabbed a magazine off the table and pretended to flip through the pages, but he was suddenly so restless he had to fight the urge to get out of his seat and pace. He could feel her, edgy and irritated just a few seats away. Her perfume lingered in the air and the way her fingers fiddled with the phone made him want to feel those hands on his skin. His attraction to her was relentless. Powerful. And certainly well out of his control.

  “All right,” he said, still not looking at her. “Let’s talk.”

  She sighed sharply. “You’re such a jerk.”

  He stilled. “Yeah... I know. I’m sorry. I guess I’m just worried about my uncle and–”

  “I know that,” she said, cutting him off as she dropped the phone back into her bag.

  Tension tightened his shoulders. “So, did you switch a shift so you could be here today?”

  Her head turned. “I start night shift tonight for a week so I didn’t need to.”

  “When do you sleep?”

  “Tomorrow,” she replied.

  He had a thought. “You’re working over the Thanksgiving holiday?”

  She nodded. “I usually do.” Her gaze sharpened. “The other two doctors have families. So I work.”

  Brant considered her words. She had no family and gave up the holiday so that her colleagues could spend time with their loved ones. Her thoughtfulness made him like her even more. “That’s very generous of you.”

  She shrugged lightly, but he wasn’t fooled. She seemed a little sad. Strange, he thought as he looked at her, how quickly he’d gotten to know her moods. Like she’d gotten to know his. They’d developed a fraught, tense friendship over the past week and even though good sense told him otherwise, Brant felt compelled to get to know her even better. Despite her intriguing mix of strength and resilience, there were times when she seemed hauntingly vulnerable. And naive. Almost...innocent. Brant couldn’t quite define it...couldn’t work out what it was about her that drew him like a magnet. It wasn’t just a physical thing. He’d been attracted to women before. But Lucy Monero was different. When he was around her it felt different. When he was around her he was different.

  No...that’s not it.

  He was himself. Without armor. Without pretense. Without anything to hide behind. And that’s why he’d avoided her since he’d returned home. The moment he’d met her again Brant had experienced a kind of heady awareness, deep down, that shattered all his plans to steer clear of involvement with anyone. When his mother had started matchmaking it was all the excuse he’d needed to act like a compete ass. And he had, again and again. On most occasions over the past few months he would barely acknowledge her when they were in the same room. Like a jerk. And a fool. And a coward.

  “Lucy?”

  She looked at him. “What?”

  “I’m sorry about the other night.” Face to face, the words were harder to say. “I didn’t mean to, nor did I want to, hurt your feelings.”

  She shrugged. “You didn’t. It was just a kiss, Brant. Nothing.”

  For a moment he thought she meant it and part of him was glad. But then she blinked and he saw the shimmer in her eyes. And in that moment he was done for.

  * * *

  Lucy was determined not to let him see her cry. She blinked a couple of times and willed the tears back. This wasn’t the time or place to get all weepy. So they’d kissed and then he’d behaved badly.

  Welcome to the world of being a grown-up.

  “I did say that guys like me can hurt women like you without even trying,” he reminded her. “And I’m not saying that to let myself off the hook. I genuinely don’t want to see you get hurt. And if we get involved...you will.”

  Humiliation coursed over her skin. Was her sexual inexperience so obvious? Of course he must have noticed. No doubt he’d kissed many women over the years...like Trudy with her overt sexuality and bedroom eyes. No sweet wonder he’d acted like he’d wanted to run in the opposite direction after their kiss...he’d probably figured out she was a greenhorn in the bedroom department.

  “Don’t forget your appointment on Monday,” she reminded him, quickly shifting the subject.

  “I haven’t,” he said quietly. “Not that I think it’s necessary. But I’ll do it because I gave you my word that I would.”

  “He’s a good counselor,” she said. “He talks to a lot of the veterans at the home, including your uncle. So try to go with an open mind, okay?”

  “I said I’d go,” he replied. “And so you know, I have talked with a shrink before.”

  “Me, too.”

  His expression narrowed. “You have? Why?”

  A week ago she wouldn’t have dreamed of having such a conversation. But things had changed. They’d changed. Even without the kiss, things had altered between them. “It was a few years ago. I found myself withdrawn and spending way too much time alone. I knew I hadn’t moved on from the accident and my mom’s death and what happened in college so I—”

  “What happened in college?” he asked, cutting her off.

  Lucy took a deep breath. “Three weeks after first semester started my roommate was assaulted.”

  “Assaulted?”

  “Raped,” she explained and felt a familiar heaviness weigh down on her shoulders. “I found her and got her to the hospital and stayed with her for two days. She didn’t press charges. She didn’t tell anyone. She never went back to class and left school a month later.”

  She watched Brant’s hands clench. “And the individual responsible?”

  “He went about his life as though nothing had happened. I used to see him on campus and he always had a smug kind of sinister look on his face. He knew I knew what he’d done.”

  Brant got up and sat in the seat beside her. His back was straight, his shoulders tight. After a few seconds he spoke again. “Did he ever come near you?”

  She shook her head. “I made sure I was never alone around him.”

  He looked relieved...as if the idea of someone hurting her was unthinkable.

  She didn’t want to imagine what it meant. She couldn’t. Wouldn’t. She was already halfway in love with him... Imagining he cared about her even a little was a catastrophe waiting to happen.

  “And your friend?”

  She shrugged. “We lost contact when I went to med school. I was still mourning my mom’s death and with my course load and everything else... I don’t think I had enough of myself to give. I think about her sometimes and wonder if she has had a happy life. Or if she l
et that one terrible thing outline the rest of her life. I hope not. I hope she managed to pull through and find some happiness. I still feel guilty, though... I still feel as though I could have done more to help her.”

  He grabbed her hand. “I’m sure you did everything you could.”

  Lucy’s insides fluttered. Being so close to him wreaked havoc with her determination to keep him at a figurative distance. It was impossible when he was touching her. She wanted to pull her hand away but couldn’t. “I hope so. But it reminded me of my mom all over again,” she admitted, feeling a familiar pain seep into her heart. “I experienced the same helplessness, the same guilt. And yet, in a way, it confirmed my decision to go to med school.”

  He linked their fingers and held tight. “And look where you are now.”

  She glanced around. “In this room, you mean?”

  “I mean,” he said quietly, “that you’re helping people again...because that’s what you do.”

  Lucy’s gaze flicked to their joined hands now resting on his jeans-clad thigh. “Looks to me like you’re the one doing the helping.”

  “Don’t kid yourself,” he said and smiled so intimately it sent a shudder running through her. “The only reason I feel as if everything will work out with my uncle today is because of you.”

  As an admission it spoke volumes. This man, who she instinctively knew had been through hell and back and didn’t want anyone to know it, trusted her.

  “You know, it’s hard to admit when we need help. Going to see a therapist was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done,” she said, feeling him flinch a little. But he didn’t move his hand. The doctor in her suddenly made her cautious to get any more involved with him on a personal level. But the woman in her... She wanted to hold him in her arms and never let him go. “But I went because I wanted to feel whole again.”

  He expelled a heavy breath. “Whole? I don’t even know what that means anymore.”

  “It means sleeping through the night,” she said gently, looking straight ahead. “It means not waking up in a cold sweat at two o’clock in the morning. It means talking about what happened...it means sharing your fear.”

  “I can’t.”

  Lucy heard the pain in his words but pressed on. “Why not?”

  Silence stretched between them. Finally he spoke.

  “Because I can’t go back there.”

  Her insides constricted tightly. “Back where? To Afghanistan?”

  He shook his head. “To that day. To that moment. To that second.”

  Lucy turned in the chair and grasped his arm. His muscles bunched beneath her touch. “Why can’t you?”

  “Because,” he said quietly. “It will break me.”

  A sound interrupted them and they both looked toward the door. Grady stood in the doorway, two foam cups in his hand. Brant released her immediately and Lucy’s hand dropped. She knew how it must have looked, being so close, their hands linked and her fingers digging into his arm. It would have looked impossibly intimate. Brant got to his feet and moved away, dropping into a seat by the water cooler.

  “I brought coffee,” Grady said as he entered the room. “It’s not so great, but it’s better than what comes out of that machine,” he said and pointed to the equipment on the small counter. “Mom is walking around one of the gardens.” He passed the coffee around and sat on one of the chairs. “So, what’s new with you guys?”

  Brant laughed first, because the question sounded so absurd considering Grady had walked into the room and caught them holding hands like a pair of guilty teens.

  Lucy shook off her embarrassment and got to her feet. “I think I’ll join Colleen in the garden.”

  She left the room and knew she would be the hot topic of conversation between the two brothers. But she didn’t care. They could talk about her all they wanted. It wouldn’t change the fact that she was falling in love with a man who was clearly so weighed down by his past he didn’t have any room in his life...or his heart...for anyone.

  By the time Joe came out of surgery it was past three o’clock. Once she was certain he was out of danger and had come through the anesthetic, Lucy said goodbye to the Parkers. She was in the foyer, just about to walk through the automatic doors, when she heard her name being called.

  Brant was about fifteen steps behind her.

  “What?” she asked sharply, suddenly breathless.

  “I wanted to thank you for being here.”

  “No problem,” she said and clutched her tote.

  “It means a lot to my uncle.”

  Lucy’s brows came up sharply. “Is that the best you can do? Really?”

  He thrust his hands into his jacket pockets. “Okay...if you need to hear it...it means a lot to me.”

  “Anytime,” she said and managed a tight smile. “Make sure your uncle follows the doctor’s orders. And good luck with your appointment on Monday.”

  She turned and began walking.

  “Are you going to be there?” he asked.

  He wanted her there? Did she dare? Her heart begged her to say yes. But her head told her not to make it too easy for him. Lucy nodded and tossed her hair. “I’ll be around.”

  And then she walked out.

  Chapter Eight

  I’ll be around...

  Brant had been hearing those words in his head for three days.

  Even with a busy weekend, traveling back and forth to the hospital to visit Joe, and then immersing himself in the renovation for the tavern, he couldn’t get Lucy from his thoughts. He’d said too much. Admitted too much. And he couldn’t believe he’d asked her if she was going to be at the appointment with him. No wonder she thought he was a head case who needed a shrink.

  He lingered outside Dr. Allenby’s small office at the veterans home five minutes before his appointment. He knew the doctor reasonably well and respected his abilities as a counselor. But that didn’t mean he wanted to bare his soul to the other man. There was no one else in the office other than the middle-aged receptionist who kept glancing his way every time he moved.

  Just over an hour later he was forced to admit that it hadn’t been as bad as he’d expected. Dr. Allenby didn’t try to force him to talk about the war. Instead Brant spoke about his uncle and the tavern and what it was like being back in Cedar River after so many years away. Of course, he wasn’t entirely fooled. It was about gaining trust. Therapists employed tactics just as soldiers did. But at least Brant didn’t break out into a cold sweat or completely shut down to the idea of conversation.

  And he knew why.

  Lucy.

  He’d made a promise and he didn’t want to disappoint her. Over the past week he’d seen enough hurt in her eyes and it was almost unbearable. Thinking about what she’d been through made him want to wrap her in his arms and protect her from the world. Of course he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. She wasn’t his to protect. Besides, it sounded old-fashioned and foolish. She was a smart, independent woman who could obviously look after herself. Still...the thought lingered because imagining her hurt or in trouble somehow switched on something in his brain and made him feel protective and stupidly macho at the same time.

  When he walked out of Dr. Allenby’s office he saw Lucy sitting by the door, her head down, flicking through a magazine. He stopped in his tracks when she looked up and met his gaze.

  “Hi,” she said and placed the magazine down on the small table in the middle of the waiting area.

  “Hi, yourself.”

  She got to her feet. “How did it go?”

  He briefly raised one shoulder. “Okay.”

  She was just about to respond when the receptionist spoke. “Mr. Parker, will you be making another appointment to see the doctor?”

  Brant’s instinct was to reply with a resounding no.
But he looked at Lucy and saw her gazing at him questioningly. As though she expected him to say no but hoped that he’d say yes. And, foolishly, he didn’t want to disappoint her.

  “Sure,” he said, ignoring the heat filling his chest at the idea of another session under scrutiny. “How about the same time next week?”

  Once the appointment was confirmed Brant thanked the receptionist and walked toward the door. He held it open and allowed Lucy to pass, catching a trace of her perfume as she moved ahead of him.

  “So, it was okay?” she asked as they walked down the corridor.

  “It was okay.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Brant slowed his stride a fraction. “I didn’t think I’d see you here today.”

  “I said I’d be around,” she reminded him.

  His skin tightened. “I thought you were on night shift this week?”

  “I am,” she replied. “I changed at work and came straight here. I’ll sleep this afternoon. How’s your uncle?”

  “Good,” he replied. “He’ll be home by the end of the week. Unfortunately not in time for Thanksgiving, but we’ll celebrate with him over the weekend once he’s back here. My mom is all about the holidays, so no doubt she’ll make sure he gets some of her turkey and pumpkin pie.”

  “Sounds delicious,” she said, smiling as she walked.

  Lucy’s heels clicked over the tiled floor. She wore a blue dress, shorter than usual, and her bare legs were impossible to ignore. Her hair was loose, flowing over her shoulders, and she wore a short denim jacket that accentuated the flare of her hips. And she had boots on, the short cowgirl kind with fringe on the side. For a moment he was poleaxed. He stopped walking and stared at her.

  When she realized he wasn’t beside her she came to a halt and turned around. “What?”

  His gaze slide over her. “You look...really pretty.”

  “Oh...thanks.”

  Brant wondered if she knew how sexy she looked in her short dress and boots. Probably not. Most of the time he was pretty sure she had no idea how beautiful she was. “I appreciate you coming here today. It was very thoughtful of you. Especially considering that I haven’t done much to deserve it.”