by Olivia Miles
He kissed her neck, sliding her wet hair free so his mouth could trail her skin. She closed her eyes, luxuriating in the moment, not wanting it to end. Slowly, he unbuttoned her blouse, peeling it from her still-damp skin, and brought his mouth back to hers, his kiss deeper as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her tight against his chest. She could feel the beating of his heart, the heat of his body, the smell that was so familiar by now. She trailed her hands up his chest and around the back of his neck, where his hair met his skin, weaving the silky tendrils through her fingers.
Breaking their kiss, Brett inched her closer to the mattress, his hands never leaving her body, his eyes locked with her own. Her heart began to speed up as anticipation grew, and she sat down on the edge of the bed, her hands on his waist, pulling him near her, not wanting to lose this contact or this moment. Brett ran a hand down over her collarbone, his touch so light it sent a shiver down her spine, and edged toward her as his hand trailed lower, to cup her breast. Quickly, Ivy brushed the self-help books to the side before he could notice. They landed with a thud.
She turned to him, and his eyes flashed on hers. “I saw those, you know.” His mouth quirked, and she kissed his smile away, laughing with him as they fell back against the unmade bed.
CHAPTER
25
The alarm clock went off much too early, and Ivy reached over to silence it, eager to make the most of the next five minutes before it chimed again, pulling her from the warm down cover and the soft heat of Brett’s skin next to hers.
Groaning, Brett rolled over and wrapped an arm around her waist, nuzzling against the nape of her neck. Ivy curled into him, smiling into her pillow, almost wanting to pinch herself that three nights this week had been spent in Brett’s company, three mornings spent waking up to that smooth voice and that touch…
“What time is it?” he asked, teasing her earlobe with his teeth.
“Almost time for your shift, Doctor,” she whispered. “Do you have time for breakfast?”
His hand moved from her waist to her breast as he pressed himself closer to her. “I can think of a better use of time than breakfast.” He smiled mischievously as she rolled onto her back to look at him.
“Care to enlighten me?” she asked, grinning.
He lowered his mouth to hers, and the intensity of his kiss was all the explanation she needed. She arched her back as his arms reached behind her, pulling her tight as his hands slid lower, sending a shot of fire deep within her.
The alarm buzzed again, and this time it was Ivy who groaned.
Brett kissed her neck, once, twice, and then lifted his head, giving her a reluctant smile. “Rain check?”
She reached up and mussed his hair, sighing. “Tonight?”
“It’s a date,” he said.
She rolled over, covering herself with a sheet while he walked into the bathroom, allowing herself a moment to appreciate his perfect naked form. She listened as the taps turned on and the water started to rush and decided, begrudgingly, that it was time to start her day, too. It just would have been so much nicer to spend it in bed, the way they had for the better part of yesterday.
She was already dressed and pouring coffee when Brett appeared in the living room, scrubbing his hair with a towel, his shirt unbuttoned to reveal the cords of the muscles that rippled over his taut stomach.
“If you keep having coffee with me in the mornings, your mother might start to get a little suspicious,” she joked, handing him a mug.
He took a sip. “No doubt she has her suspicions, but she’s keeping them to herself.”
Ivy peeled a banana thoughtfully. They hadn’t established what was happening between them, and Ivy was enjoying it far too much to ask. She didn’t want to rush things, didn’t want to get carried away. And she didn’t need the input of half the town, which is what would happen once they knew about this.
“Would you like some jam on your toast?” she asked, motioning to the sugar-free variety she had in her fridge.
Brett set his mug on the table and cocked an eyebrow. “I can think of something sweeter.”
“But you just showered! And you have to go to work…”
“So?” Brett set his hands on her hips and ran them lower.
Ivy giggled and playfully pushed at his chest. “Stop. We can’t do this. You’ll be late for work.”
“I don’t care,” he whispered, lowering his mouth to hers.
Ivy wasn’t about to argue with that, not when his hands were sending shivers over her skin, heating her in places that longed for his touch, and his mouth was persistent, warm, and eager. She ran her hands over the smooth skin of his chest and kissed him fully, her tongue moving in motion with his in the way that was quickly becoming very comfortable.
Just as she began to feel his body responding to hers, she pulled back, knowing that if she didn’t they’d get carried away, and both of them would be late for work.
“You should get to work,” she said, taking his hands. “Because I know you. And you do care.”
His expression turned rueful. “You’re right. I do.” He buttoned his shirt and tucked it into his slacks, then drained his coffee. It was too late for the toast by now, and it had probably gone cold anyway.
“Tonight?” He turned to give her one last kiss at the door.
“Can’t wait,” Ivy said, leaning against the doorjamb as he jogged down the stairs.
But she would. She’d waited years for this, after all. What was a few more hours?
Ivy listened patiently as a bride went through her wish list in exact detail, even though she sometimes found this part of her job tedious.
She glanced at the clock on the bottom right corner of her computer as she typed in the order. Brett would be getting off his shift in an hour, and then… Her stomach flipped, as it had every day for the past week since he’d first slept over. She knew it was just a week—such a short, routine span of time that usually went by in a rush—but already she’d adjusted to a new routine and a new person in her life. Brett had spent the night whenever he wasn’t on call or working a late shift, and already in the mornings when she woke up to find his side of the bed empty and cold, she missed him.
She finished with the bride and checked her phone, smiling at the text he’d sent her when he arrived at the hospital, already making good on his promise for tonight.
Tucking the device back into her pocket, she found her pitcher under the sink, filled it, and walked around the shop, testing soil in her potted plants and offering a drink where needed. Outside, the stall of colorful blooms brightened the sidewalk. The sun had been beating down all day, and she doused them liberally, deciding to leave them out until just before closing.
At the sound of her name being called, Ivy looked up and shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun as she saw Kara waving at her from across the street.
Ivy grinned. “Hey! Come on over!” she called.
She was bursting to tell Kara her good news, but she knew it would be better to hold off. Brett was her cousin, after all, and if Kara slipped and said something to her mother, there would be no end of it.
Ivy considered the recent interaction between mother and daughter and realized there would probably be little threat of that, though. Things were tense with Kara and Rosemary, and the situation didn’t seem to be resolving itself.
“Are you closing up now?” Kara’s cheeks were flushed by the time she reached the store.
Ivy nodded. “I’m closing on time for once tonight.”
“Hot date?” Kara asked, and Ivy felt herself pale until she realized that Kara was joking. It was just assumed, of course, that she didn’t have a hot date, or that if she did, she would have mentioned it to her friend.
“If you call spreadsheets and a pile of bills a good time, then yes.” It wasn’t a lie per se. She did have a mound of bills to go through. She’d stuffed them aside for the past week, preferring instead to bask in her good fortune, but reality couldn’t be
avoided forever, and the last thing she needed was a bill collector getting involved or the pressure of a late payment fee.
Kara craned her neck to see through the glass windows and then turned back to Ivy. “Can I ask you your opinion on some things?”
“Sure.” Ivy drained the last of the water into a potted hydrangea and opened the door.
Kara followed her up to the workbench, her blue eyes wide. “I’m getting really nervous about this fundraiser. I’m worried I’ve overstepped. Anna’s been so good to me. And she and Mark are catering the event.”
“Anna’s one of your best friends. Why don’t you just tell her?”
She bit her lip in thought. “I will. But I don’t want to make things awkward or look like I’m competing with her or anything.”
“I think she’ll be happy for you,” Ivy said, but she could understand Kara’s concern. Anna was a hard worker, and she took her culinary skills seriously. She’d also trained and coached Kara for the past couple of years. “What about the new position at the restaurant? How’s that going?”
Kara made a face. “I hate it, Ivy. I mean, it’s terrible. I’m so bored, so lonely, and just so… uninspired.”
“Are you planning on leaving?” The smart thing to do would be to stay until something better came along. But Kara didn’t always operate that way.
“I’ve been thinking I need to do something more… me. You know, something that makes me feel excited again.”
Ivy nodded with growing dread. She’d heard all this before. No job seemed to keep Kara’s interest. The only job she’d really enjoyed had been helping Anna out at the bakery, before she’d opened the restaurant with Mark.
“I look around at what you have, even what my mom has… what Anna and Mark have… I want that.” Her expression was so earnest that Ivy felt her heart tug. It was true that she was fortunate; she had built a business that she loved, and not a day went by that she didn’t feel like pinching herself. But it didn’t come for free. Or without a lot of hard work and sacrifice. “I guess I just wish I could do something with my cookies… like a cookie business… or something. Something more than a few sales here and there.” Kara faded off, her cheeks reddening as she studied her nails.
“A cookie business is a great idea!” Ivy exclaimed.
Kara was grinning now. “You sound so confident.”
“And you should, too,” Ivy said firmly. “Look, it’s scary to start your own business. You never know what will come of it. But I think you have something here, Kara. Would you open a shop?”
“I’m still thinking about everything,” Kara mused. “I have my inheritance from my dad… I just don’t know what my mom would say about me spending it on something like this.” A line appeared between her brows as she fell silent.
Ivy sighed. “I know you and your mom don’t always get along, but she loves you, Kara. I’m sure she’d be supportive.”
“Loving someone and being supportive of their choices don’t always go hand in hand,” Kara replied. “My mother has strong opinions on how she thinks I should be living my life. So far, it seems I’ve done nothing but disappoint her.”
“She wants the best for you. But what she thinks is the best and what you think is the best may not be the same thing. This is your life, Kara. Follow your heart. She just wants you to be happy.”
Kara eyed her. “You really think so?”
“I’m sure of it.” After all, wasn’t it what any family member wanted for their loved ones? She could still remember being around Sophie’s age, picking wildflowers for her mother in a hope to cheer her up, because even then, when she was so young, she couldn’t stop thinking that if her mother was just happy, things might be different.
Kara reached over and gave her a quick hug. “You’re the best, Ivy. I think I will do what you suggested and talk to Anna. And if you don’t mind, I might have a few other ideas to bounce off you, too. Like, some logos for the labels?”
“I’d love that!” Ivy grinned as her friend walked out of the shop with a bounce in her step Ivy hadn’t noticed in a long time. Things were looking up in Briar Creek.
Brett pulled the rubber gloves from his fingers with a snap and tossed them in the bin. It had been a long day, and he was ready for it to be over.
“Dr. Hastings?” A nurse appeared in the doorway, her expression turning coy as he nailed her with a hard stare.
Here we go again, he thought. Some men would be flattered. Others would take advantage. “Yes?” He kept his tone as professional as possible.
“A patient was just brought in by ambulance. Do you have time?”
Technically, his shift ended in five minutes, which meant he couldn’t turn away. He gritted his teeth, wondering how long this would set him back, and then shook that thought away immediately. He was due to meet Ivy, but someone needed his help. And he was the doctor on shift. Letting his thoughts wander to his personal life right now was exactly what he had promised himself he wouldn’t do. Couldn’t do.
“Absolutely.” He followed her out the door just in time to see the paramedics wheeling in a young woman on a gurney.
“We have a thirty-year-old woman in hypoglycemic shock,” the first paramedic said, and everything after became a blur. Brett quickened his pace to a run, his eyes searching the half-covered body that was being lifted onto a table.
He blinked down at the face, immediately noticing the dark hair and the pale skin. It wasn’t Ivy. It wasn’t Ivy. He said it over and over to reassure himself.
It wasn’t Ivy. But it could have been.
Relief was quickly replaced by action as he gathered her vitals and assessed her condition. Her pupils were dilated and she was unresponsive. The situation was critical.
“Start a line of dextrose,” he ordered as the nurse hurried with the IV.
“You’re going to be all right,” he said to the patient as much as to himself. “Everything is going to be all right.”
Petals on Main was closed by the time Brett pulled up to the front of the building. Bypassing the shop, he walked through the open door to the stairs that led to Ivy’s apartment. He could hear the rustling of her feet behind the door before he knocked, no doubt in some last-minute effort to tidy the place up. He grinned, but he still felt unsettled.
That woman in his ER today could have been Ivy. Hell, it had been Ivy a year ago.
She’d let things get that far before. How could she be so sure it wouldn’t happen again?
His gut was twisting by the time his knuckles fell against the wood. The locks turned and the door swung open and the air rushed out of him at the sight of that face, that smile…
“Hey.” He stepped inside and slid his hands onto her slender waist, wanting to pull her in and hold her tight, know that she was safe and well, watering her flowers and probably shoving clothes under the bed, not being revived by paramedics.
He dropped his mouth to hers, felt her sweet taste in his mouth, the tenderness of her touch he craved just as much as the hungrier side of her, the one that made him stir with need, making it impossible to think straight. Because that was just the problem. He wasn’t thinking straight.
Ivy was sweet and caring and funny and smart. And he was a doctor who couldn’t balance his life and let everyone in his world down eventually, even if they didn’t admit it, and even if there was always some excuse for it. He didn’t want to do that to Ivy. He just wanted to protect her. But he wasn’t so sure he could.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m famished.” She grinned up at him after she’d pulled away, her hands lightly tracing a pattern on his arms as she looked deep into his eyes.
Brett felt a flicker of panic. She wasn’t supposed to let herself get to this point. If she was hungry, her blood sugar could be low, and then it could crash, and… He stiffened.
Ivy frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Yes.” He rubbed his forehead. “It was a rough day at work. A bad day.” They were nothing new. Back in Baltimore,
a day like today would have been light. He would have left feeling relaxed, maybe even gone out for a few drinks before heading home. But now he felt weary, run-down and tired, and depressed as hell.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Brett studied her. Talking about his work wasn’t something he often did. He’d trained himself to leave work behind him when the shift ended, to not spend his free time dwelling on the outcome of a patient he’d sent off to surgery. He’d purposefully avoided anything requiring long-term care. But all he could think about was that young woman. And he didn’t want to think about her. That was hospital life, and this… here with Ivy… this was personal life.
Except they were colliding all over again.
“You taking all your doses?”
“Yes.” She narrowed her gaze. “Where is this coming from?”
“I just meant that if it was a problem again, I could help you out—”
“Stop right there,” Ivy said, holding up a hand. She looked so sad all of a sudden that he felt like the biggest jerk on the planet. He’d offended her, when all he was trying to do was help her. And help himself, he supposed.
Like it or not, he’d developed feelings for this woman. And he knew the complications of her condition.
“I’m not your patient. I have this under control.”
But did she? He wasn’t so sure. He hadn’t forgotten the day of the Fourth of July festival or the times she’d let her sugar levels drop too low before taking action. She was being too reactive for his comfort zone. But if she said she had it under control, he probably had to accept that. She wasn’t his patient. And that was almost worse. It meant there was nothing he could do but sit back and watch and hope for the best. Just like he was forced to do with his mother.
And he’d promised himself a long time ago not to get in that position again, especially with someone he cared about.
