A Heart Decision

by Laurie Kellogg

  Luke mercifully broke the uncomfortable silence. “Dusty needs to be fed. He hasn’t eaten since last night. His food’s in the laundry room.”

  “Okay.” She headed to collect the food, and at the door, she turned back to him. “You’d better call your mom. You’ll catch hell if she finds out about your injury from someone other than you.”

  Teresa Marino was a fiercely protective Italian mother who didn’t hesitate to send her kids on an around-the-world guilt trip whenever they gave her a scare.

  “You’re not telling me anything I don’t know. I already called her. I had a helluva time convincing her not to race over to the hospital.”

  Sabrina stepped inside the large mudroom that also served as a pantry and laundry. She grabbed a can of dog food from the nearly empty shelves. The only other items were a wide variety of snack foods. The refrigerator wasn’t stocked any better—containing only condiments and beverages.

  “How can you live on this garbage?” she called to him. “I don’t know why you bothered putting in such a fabulous kitchen when you don’t ever cook.”

  “Resale. As soon as I finish renovating the third floor, I plan to sell it and start over with another fixer-upper. That’s why I’ve kept the efficiency apartment in Trenton.”

  She gasped, stepping back into the kitchen. “Don’t you dare sell this place! I love it.”

  Once he’d finished modernizing the ancient house, he’d spared no expense in on the upscale amenities and state-of-the-art appliances. She would kill to have the giant Jacuzzi tub and stall shower that doubled as steam room in the master bathroom. Of course, the interior’s beauty was partly due to her decorating talents. While remodeling the large kitchen and three and a half baths, he’d dragged her along to help pick out everything, claiming he had less taste than a stale soda cracker.

  She’d chosen champagne maple cabinets for the large kitchen that extended all the way to the nine-foot ceiling. Several of the doors had glass-paned fronts which, combined with the marble countertops and wood floor, preserved the Victorian atmosphere.

  Consequently, Luke now lived in Sabrina’s dream home.

  At the sound of the electric can opener, Dusty danced around her feet.

  “Brina,” Luke rasped, “when you’re finished with that, would you take me to bed?”

  Her hands froze as she dumped the dog food into one of Dusty’s bowls. She glanced over her shoulder at Luke’s mouth stretched open in a long, wide yawn.

  To sleep, idiot. The poor guy was obviously exhausted.

  Come to think of it, so was she. She’d only closed her eyes for about three hours the night before. “Uhhh—sure. Just let me give Dusty some water.”

  She filled the puppy’s other bowl and set it down next to his food in the corner. As she pushed Luke’s wheelchair down the hall and through the living room, she admired the beautiful job he’d done refinishing the crown molding and hardwood floor. At the bottom of the wide, curved mahogany staircase she applied the brake and lowered his footrest. “Okay, I’ll take the chair upstairs and get your bed ready while you scoot your way up. Holler when you get to the top.”

  “Okay.”

  As she helped him stand on his good foot and waited until he’d grabbed the newel post with his left hand to balance himself, his musky scent wafted around her, making all of her girl parts ache to press against him. The only problem was, if she gave in to her body’s yearning, she’d most likely knock him over.

  The moment she was sure he was steady, she backed her way up the steps, pulling the wheelchair after her. At the top, she applied the chair’s brakes and hurried to the master bedroom at the end of the hall. She stopped in the doorway and shook her head at the heap of clean laundry dumped on the dresser and the mountain of dirty clothes piled on the floor in the corner. The drawers in his yard-sale dresser and his closet were probably completely empty.

  So much for her romantic fantasies about making love in Luke’s big brass bed. Not one of her erotic dreams had ever included smelly socks and underwear.

  Evidently, when the antique bed frame was manufactured, mattresses must have been a lot thinner. His king-size, pillow-top mattress was so thick he’d replaced the box spring with a board, turning the frame into a platform bed. If he hadn’t, a person would’ve been likely to get a nosebleed climbing onto it.

  After shaking out the covers and fluffing the pillows, she headed toward the door and stiffened at the sound of thumping.

  “Luke!” She dashed out of the room and found him hopping down the hallway. “Stop right there, you idiot. I’m not staying here to watch you fall flat on your face.”

  “All right. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” He leaned against the wall while she retrieved the wheelchair and waited for him to settle in it.

  “If you pull a stunt like that again, I’ll use your handcuffs to shackle you to your bed until your first doctor’s appointment.”

  “I never took you for the kinky type, Princess.” A mischievous glint twinkled in his eyes as he grinned back at her. “But I’m up for a little game of bondage if you are.”

  Heat flooded her face at the thought of Luke at her mercy. He’d be surprised by how kinky she could be after years of imagining his naked body entwined with hers. She steered the wheelchair into his bedroom. “Why on earth don’t you chop a few inches off the bed’s legs so it isn’t quite so high?”

  “Because I like it this way. It leaves plenty of room for storage underneath, and umm—considering how tall I am, it’s a lot easier on my back when I’m makin’ it.” The deep flush spreading up his neck told her he hadn’t merely been referring to smoothing out the sheets.

  She slapped her hands over her hot cheeks. She had to get a hold of herself. “Uhhh, do you by any chance need to use the bathroom before you get into bed?”

  “If I do that, how will I run you ragged?”

  She shoved him over to the door and locked the wheels before helping him up. Wedging her shoulder in his armpit, she supported him while he hopped to the commode.

  “I think you’d better sit down.”

  “The day I sit to pee is the day I start wearin’ a skirt.” He lowered his cast-encased foot to the floor and fumbled with his fly.

  “You’re not supposed to put any weight on that.”

  “I’m not, damn it. I’m just balancing myself. Now, are you gonna leave, or do you wanna watch me take a leak?”

  She backed out of the room and waited outside the door until the toilet flushed. When she knocked and walked back in, Luke lifted one arm and sniffed under it. “Man, I need a shower. I stink worse than the dogs smelled the day I found them.”

  “You’re not taking a shower.”

  “Why not? They gave me a waterproof liner in my cast. The nurse said I could even swim in it.”

  “Not tonight. I don’t trust your balance while you’re hopped up on pain meds. Maybe in another day or so, when the swelling subsides and you no longer need the pills.”

  “Then would you at least get me a washcloth so I can get rid of my stench?”

  She pulled out a clean towel and washrag from the narrow closet behind the door. “Once you’re undressed, sit on the toilet lid while you wash, so I can stop worrying about you standing on that foot.”

  After watching him struggle for several seconds to open a single shirt button with just his left hand, she brushed his fingers away. “I’ll do it. We’ll be here all day otherwise.”

  She quickly unfastened his shirt and parted the two halves. As she stared at the dark hair sprinkled over his muscular chest, her mouth turned as dry as if she’d been sucking on cotton balls.

  “Do you always gawk at your patients?”

  Lifting her gaze to his amused face, she licked her lips, trying to work up enough moisture to speak without croaking. “N-no. But then most of them sleep with teddy bears.”

  “Oh, right.” He smiled and pulled his left arm out of the shirt while she gently eased the other sleeve over his
sprained wrist. “What about while you were doing your different rotations in college? You took care of adults then.”

  “True. But most of them were shriveled up old men whose bodies needed to be ironed.” She turned and filled the sink with hot water while he worked at taking off his jeans.

  He only got as far as lowering the left side of his pants before a whoosh of air hissed through his teeth as he attempted to push the right side down with his injured hand. “Damn, that hurts.”

  “Then stop trying to be a hero, and let me help you.” She knelt in front of him and stripped his jeans down his muscular legs. “This is precisely what I’m here fo—”

  Her words died on her lips as she lifted her gaze and found her mouth only a millimeter from the peak in Luke’s boxers. Good grief. Maybe there was some truth to that propaganda about big feet.

  He stared down at her, desire flaring in his eyes. “Then by all means, Princess, help me out.” One corner of his mouth twitched. “Do you think this is what Ben had in mind when he insisted on you takin’ care of me?”

  She could tell him the truth, but she didn’t want to have to perform CPR on him. Although, that was a good excuse to put her lips on his. “You’re deliberately trying to embarrass me.”

  Luke peered pointedly down at his erection. “There’s nothing deliberate about this. As a nurse, you should know a guy has no control over his Johnson.”

  “Maybe so,” she said, her voice rising an octave higher than normal, “but you don’t have to stick it right in my face.”

  “I didn’t stick it anywhere.” He sank onto the lid of the toilet and yanked his good foot out of one leg of his jeans while she peeled the other off over his cast.

  When she stood, she wobbled as if her legs had turned to rubber. “Maybe not, but you want to.”

  “I don’t think we’d better discuss what I want.”

  She soaped the washcloth, and when her hands started trembling as if she had Parkinson’s, she tossed it to him. Once he washed and rinsed the right side of his upper body, he tried to clean the left without much success. After several failed attempts, he finally surrendered, raising his hands. “Okay, so you can do my other half and my back.”

  Gladly. She’d wash a lot more if he’d let her.

  She rinsed the terrycloth and lathered it again. He lifted his left arm so she could scrub his hairy armpit. As she swiped down his side, he bit his lip.

  “Do your ribs hurt?”

  “Yeah. Don’t sweat it. The doctor said they’re just bruised.”

  “Well, tell me if something is sore. I don’t want to hurt you.” After rinsing the rag again, she pushed gently on his head. “Lean forward so I can wash your back.”

  As she reached across him, her chest brushed against his cheek. His face turned, grazing her breast, causing her nipples to pop up under her tank top like two spring-loaded poultry thermometers.

  There was no question whether she was up to temp. The fire raging inside her was nearly hot enough to incinerate her.

  “Brina,” he murmured, rubbing his cheek against her softness. “At the moment, my self-control is stretched as thin as a cobweb. I’ve had about all the stress I can take for one day.”

  “I know.” Trembling, she drew back and whispered, “I’ll get you a clean pair of shorts while you wash the rest.”

  As she escaped into the bedroom, she gulped several deep breaths, attempting to slow the jackhammer in her chest. Luke was right. In the last twenty-four hours, not only had he dealt with the Jillian crisis, he’d been in an accident that very likely would’ve killed him if he’d been a fraction of a second slower. He had to be mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted. If they made love right now, he’d be doing it for all the wrong reasons.

  She sorted through his clean laundry and found a pair of charcoal gray boxer briefs. “Are you finished?” she called through the door.

  “I guess so. I’m as clean as I’m gonna get with a washcloth.”

  When she pushed open the door, he was standing with the towel secured around his hips. Her gaze dropped to the dark swirl of hair around his navel that descended into the towel. As she held out the clean shorts, he brushed them away. “You can just put them on the night table for tomorrow.”

  “You’re planning to sleep in the buff?”

  “I have ever since I’ve lived alone.” He took the shorts from her. “But if catching a glimpse of my manly package will disturb your maidenly sensibilities, I’ll wear—”

  “No-o!” She snatched the underwear back, shocked by her overwhelming disappointment. “I mean....uhh....I can close my eyes if your nudity bothers me.”

  Like she’d actually have the willpower to look away from a magnificent specimen like Luke. She moved the wheelchair in front of the bathroom door. “I was just surprised. I want you to be comfortable.”

  “Well, thank you very much, Nurse Fitzpatrick.” He bowed at the waist, oblivious that his skimpy towel and all that bronzed skin sucked the gallantry from his gesture. “I’ll do my best not to flash you.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” She waved her hand and helped him into the chair. “I’ve seen penises before. The equipment is essentially the same—give or take an inch.”

  “Or two.” He grinned.

  The big jerk actually wanted her to check him out. A self-satisfied smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. That suited her just fine. If she gave him the freedom to flaunt his masculine attributes, then he couldn’t say a word when he caught a gander of what he was missing.

  ~*~

  Sabrina’s smug smile didn’t bode well for him. She was definitely hatching some insidious plot to get under his skin. Little did she know, she was already there.

  He reclined on the bed and lifted his cast while she folded a pillow under his calf.

  “Keep your leg propped up. It’ll stop it from throbbing quite so much.”

  Great. But what did he do about his other appendage? That was the ache that would really keep him awake.

  When Sabrina had knelt in front of him and pulled down his jeans, he’d nearly lost it. And if that fantasy hadn’t turned him on enough, her skimpy tank top and snug, yoga pants were likely to drive him insane.

  The hem of her pink shirt ended just above her navel and left a good two inches of her milky skin peeking out above her waistband to torture him. Each time she reached for something the hem rose and revealed even more of her luscious flesh.

  She pulled the crisp sheet over him and plumped the pillow under his head. “Are you comfortable?”

  “Not quite.” He dug his good heel into the mattress and lifted his hips. Reaching under the sheet, he yanked the towel out from around him and handed it to her. “That should do it.”

  Her gaze shifted to the rise in the sheet draped over his hips, and her tongue flicked out to moisten her lips. Every drop of blood in his head rushed south, leaving him lightheaded. The peak in the fabric simply rose higher.

  “I’ll go get you an icepack to reduce the swelling.”

  “What? No way. I’m not letting you freeze my—”

  “Don’t worry. The cold will seep through the fiberglass. If we don’t ice your ankle, the cast could get too tight and cut off the circulation to your foot.”

  “My ankle?

  “Yes, your ankle. What the heck else did you think—” Her eyes widened, and she clapped her hand over her mouth, stifling a sputter. “Ohmigosh, you thought I meant—” Her gales of laughter cut off her speech.

  “It’s not that funny.”

  “Yes,”—chest heaved as she gasped for air—“it is.”

  “What else would I think with the way you’ve been ogling my crotch?”

  “I’m sorry.” She wiped away the tears generated by her giggles. “But when a guy keeps snapping to attention, a girl gets the urge to salute.”

  “Well, it wouldn’t keep happening if you’d stop looking at me like I’m packing a foot-long wiener with the works in my shorts.”

&n
bsp; “A foot? Come now, Luke, I find that one hard to swall—” She cringed and headed for the door. “I don’t believe I actually said that.”

  He hurled one of the extra pillows after her and hit the doorjamb as she disappeared into the hall. “I told you it wasn’t a good idea for you to stay here,” he hollered. “How am I supposed to sleep like this?”

  She poked her head back into the room. “Believe me, with as tired as you are, the pain medication will knock you out.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him and grinned. “But if you’d like, I can always bring you two ice packs.”

  He snatched the pillow from under his head and fired it at her face. She ducked, laughing as it sailed past her.

  Great. Not only had he missed, now he had no pillow to sleep on.

  ~*~

  Sabrina continued chuckling to herself while she waited for Dusty to finish sniffing around the half-acre backyard. If she took the puppy inside before he made a deposit, he would, no doubt, have an accident. “Come on, Dusty, choose a spot already. I’m beat.”

  The dog wandered toward the line of pine trees that separated Luke’s property from the rolling farmland behind it. He’d planted several varieties of flowering trees and shrubs in the yard since the last time she was at the house. She couldn’t wait to see them all in bloom next spring. It would be beautiful.

  Finally, after several minutes, the puppy left a little present in the corner of the yard and scampered back into the house ahead of her. She locked the back door and picked up the ice bag she’d filled. As she headed up the stairs, Dusty let out a pathetic whimper and scrambled up the steps, sliding back down one for every two he conquered.

  She scooped him up and carried him upstairs. As she’d predicted, Luke was already out cold when she crept into his bedroom.

  She picked up the two pillows he’d flung at her earlier and laid them next to his head. After folding back the bottom corner of the sheet to expose his cast, she set the ice bag on it. She tucked the towel she’d left on the bed around his leg to keep the bag from sliding off his ankle.