by Jane Jamison
Chapter Three
“You’re looking better today.”
“Thanks, but that’s kind of a backhanded compliment, isn’t it?” Catherine sat up in bed and struggled to keep from smiling. As irritated as she was that only John had come to see her, she couldn’t help be happy that he had—even if he was there only in his professional capacity.
He seemed genuinely surprised. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
He’d come back the night before but hadn’t stayed any longer than to inquire as to how she felt. As soon as he’d touch her, however, she’d felt better than ever. The thing was she would’ve sworn that he’d felt something special, too. Then he was gone, mumbling something about her needing to rest.
She was being ridiculous and acting like a damn schoolgirl with her first crush. Had she really felt something special when they touched? How stupid was that? Yet she couldn’t shake the memory of the electrical sensation ripping into her, leaving her breathless.
“All your tests look good.”
Why won’t he look at me? She tilted her head and tried to catch his attention. “So I can get out of here soon?” As much as she’d wanted to leave yesterday, she was almost sorry she’d be leaving now. Again, it was such a ridiculous idea that she shoved it away. Or, at least, she tried to, but the pang of wanting to stay hung on.
“Pretty soon. I’d still like to keep you a little while for more observation. Although the scans of your head trauma look good, it’s best to be cautious about these things.”
“Okay. You’re the doc.” Wasn’t twenty-four hours long enough? Yet she didn’t argue. Why not use her company insurance while she still had it? A hospital bed wasn’t her idea of a vacation, but at least she could relax without worrying about Thomas contacting her. One way or another she’d email and let him know she was all right but out of touch for a while. Otherwise, there was no telling what he might do. She could already imagine the number of investigators he’d hire to track her down.
Now back to Dr. Dreamy…
His smile was soft yet manly, invoking sensual thoughts of what they could do with the door locked. She loved the way his brown hair curled around the nape of his neck. Dark stubble covered his jaw line, giving him a devilish appearance. Blue eyes as bright as the cloudless sky outside her window locked onto her and seemed to dive into her very soul. He was tall, at least an inch above six feet, and even while wearing the ugly white coat, she could tell he had muscles to spare.
“So where are your brother and cousin?”
He blinked, caught off guard by her question. “Were you expecting them to visit you again?”
Shit. Now he’d caught her off guard. “No. I mean…” She faltered, aware that she’d let him know she was interested in all three of them. “It’s just that they acted like they were interested—” Shit.
His smile widened.
“No, I don’t mean interested. I mean, concerned.” She wasn’t making things any better. How had she gotten messed up so badly? “I mean…”
Stop saying I mean.
“Yeah? What do you mean?”
Those blue eyes dove into her harder than ever. “I mean Smoke was the one who pulled me out of the car. I just assumed that—I don’t know—that maybe he’d want to make sure I was okay.”
“Didn’t he do that yesterday when he stopped by?”
Was he making fun of her? She had to admit he had a right to with her sounding like an idiot.
“Yes, but—”
“And Tatum didn’t have anything to do with either your rescue or your recovery.”
“Well, no, but—” She slammed her mouth closed, realizing she was digging herself an even bigger hole.
He cocked his head to the side and stared at her, his intense gaze unnerving. It reminded her of the way her mother’s cat used to stare at her moments before he pounced.
“But you were expecting them to visit you again. Maybe even looking forward to it?”
“What? No. Of course not.” She had no doubt that a child could tell she was lying, but what choice did she have? Until he’d said so, she wouldn’t have admitted it to herself.
“Uh-huh. I could give them a call if you like. Ask them to drop by?”
She felt the blood rush into her cheeks. “No, don’t do that.” She winced, realizing she’d spoke a little too intensely.
“Hey, how’s our girl doing?”
Our girl? Her attention jumped to the hot men standing inside the doorway. As surprising as Tatum’s words were, she still found them thrilling.
Smoke slapped his cousin on the arm. Did he not like what Tatum had said? Smoke made his way past John to take a seat at her side like he’d done the day before. “How are you doing?”
If nothing else, at least Tatum had interrupted her conversation with John. She breathed a breath of relief. “I’m fine. All I need is to convince the doc that I won’t keel over as soon as I step out of this place.”
“Are you worried for a reason, John?” asked Tatum. “Or are you trying to keep her here against her will? Not that I’d mind if you are.”
His chuckle warmed her heart. There was something unusual about these men. Something that made her pulse pick up speed and every inch of her feel exhilarated. She had to keep from putting her hand on Smoke’s arm and squeezing to see how hard his muscles were. Her gaze slipped from one gorgeous man to the next.
Smoke lived up to his name not only with his eyes but with the black hair hugging his neck much like his brother’s hair did. He, too, had dark stubble and was as solidly built as John and Tatum.
Even if he’d never opened his mouth, she would’ve known Tatum was the jokester of the three men. He had more laugh lines around his eyes, but it was his wide-open happy-go-lucky expression that made her believe it. With a shaved head and big brown eyes, he reminded her of a big hairless teddy bear. One she wanted to squeeze hard and then fuck even harder.
“So what’s the verdict, cuz?” Tatum gave her a wink. “When does Catnip get sprung?”
“Catnip?” She’d had a lot of men call her a lot of different nicknames, some good, some bad, but Catnip was a new one.
“Yeah. You get it, right? We’re the cats, and you’re our catnip.”
“Oh.” She darted her gaze downward, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Still, she liked the name, especially now that she knew what it meant.
“Catnip”—John’s tone was laced with humor—“needs to stay put a little while longer for observation. You know what a stickler I am for being thorough.”
“It’s called being anal, but for a doc, I guess being anal isn’t a bad thing,” joked Tatum.
“Tater’s right.”
“Tater?” She managed to keep from laughing. Did he love tater tots?
Tatum’s lip lifted in a snarl at Smoke. “Never mind him. He has the intellectual humor of a five-year-old jerk.”
“He loves tater tots. How could anyone with his name not get called Tater?” Smoke kept a serious expression as he looked to John for confirmation.
“Hey, I’m staying out of it.” He waved his hand, like a king dismissing his subjects. “Out. Catherine needs her rest.”
Catherine. Not Miss Alexander. Yeah. My name sounds good coming from him.
“We just got here, man.” Yet Smoke got to his feet. “Don’t go letting him order you around. If you want me by your side, then all you have to do is give me a holler.”
“How?” She smiled, getting into the back-and-forth banter. “I don’t have a phone, remember?”
“Damn, John, you really are keeping her prisoner.” Tatum picked up the pen and paper on the stand next to her. “Here’s my number. I’ll see about getting you a new phone. You can call me anytime, day or night.”
She took the paper, the tip of her finger grazing against his. Although it was barely a touch, it was enough to send her heart racing along with the strange, yet wonderful sensation that sang through her body. “Will do.”
John po
inted his finger at her as the other two men headed for the door. “Rest. That’s doctor’s orders.”
She saluted him, for once not minding being told what to do. “Yes, sir.”
* * * *
They loved to wrestle. What cats didn’t?
Tatum landed on top of John. Together they rolled, one cat on top of the other, then giving way to be on the bottom. Moonlight danced over their tussling bodies as they twisted first one way then the other.
The run had been a long one. Ecstatic that they’d finally found their intended mate, they were also tormented by the craving to have her. Yet until they could ease their way into her heart and let the invisible connection that bound all werecats together with their mate bring her closer, they had to hold back. Forcing a female wasn’t an option, no matter how much their inner tigers yearned to do so. But they were still men, and good men didn’t take a woman against her will.
Tatum lunged away from John, snarled, and then hurled his body at Smoke. They rolled together until a tree broke their momentum. Smoke came up swatting at his cousin, but his strikes weren’t meant to harm.
They’d already covered more than ten miles. By the time the night was over, they’d cover another five. By then, if they were lucky, they’d have spent enough energy to calm their beasts’ urgent needs to claim their mate.
Tatum whirled around and whipped John in the face with his tail. For a tiger, it was the equivalent to an insulting slap. John hissed, showing his fangs, but Tatum wasn’t worried. Instead, he bounded off, taking the lead for the rest of the run.
His inner tiger roared, demanding that, instead of turning for home, he run to find their mate. It took every ounce of power the man inside him had to keep from listening to the animal.
Soon we’ll have her.
He let out a roar, slicing through the night air.
Soon.
* * * *
“So they haven’t come back? Not at all?”
Catherine frowned at Sandy’s question. “Nope. Tater, um, I mean Tatum promised to get me a new phone, but he hasn’t shown up with one yet. In the meantime, I need you to contact Thomas and tell him I’m fine but unreachable, okay?”
Sandy Milstone was her best friend. Since getting in trouble together at the boarding school where they’d met, they’d become inseparable. Sandy’s family was in real estate, yet another industry that was getting hit hard by the decreasing oil revenues. But at least Sandy’s parents were still both alive and managing the family empire. Add that to the fact that Sandy was already engaged to one of the most eligible bachelors in Tulsa, and Catherine was more than a little jealous. Why was her friend’s life so great when hers sucked?
“If you don’t have a new phone, how are you calling me right now?”
“Didn’t you notice the caller ID? I borrowed a phone from one of the nurses.”
“So why not call Thomas yourself?”
“Because I don’t want him tracking this phone down. If you call him, he won’t have any way of locating me. At least not until I want him to.”
“No, but he’ll bug me until he makes me tell him.”
“Then don’t. You have to promise me that you won’t give in, Sandy. Promise me.”
“Hey, you know me. I like to gossip, but I’m also really good at keeping secrets. Don’t worry, bitch. I’ve got your back.”
“Good. Thanks.” She slid her legs over the side of the bed. “I’m about ready to go insane. They don’t even have a television in the room.”
“You’re kidding. You really are in the boonies.” A silence followed. “You don’t do the boonies, girl. The most rural place you’ve ever been is standing outside a Dior store in Paris. That has me wondering why you’re sticking around. Do you want me to come pick you up? Or would you rather I send my driver?”
“No.” She winced when she answered too quickly, too emphatically.
Sandy’s laughter rang in her ear. “Wow. Those men must really be hot as hell. Maybe I should come down and make sure you’re getting the best treatment. Besides, three men for little ole you? You’re outnumbered. Let me help even the odds.”
“Not a chance, girl. You stay right where you are.”
“You never were very good at sharing.”
“You got that right.” She couldn’t deny it. From an early age, she’d gathered her toys around her and refused to let any of her friends play with them. The only difference now was that, as a woman, her toys were boy toys and not dolls. “I just wonder why they haven’t come by to visit me again. What if John discharges me today? I still haven’t gotten a rental car even if I knew where I’d be going. All I know is that I’m not ready to come back home.”
“Like I said, I could come get you.” Another laugh filled her ears. “Except you seem really intent on sticking around for a while. Is there a decent hotel nearby you could hole up in?”
“The only places they have are a couple of bed and breakfasts. One of them is in Twisted, the small town closest to their ranch, but I was really hoping…” She trailed off. What was she hoping? “Besides, you know how much I hate B&Bs.”
“You’re hoping to stay with Dr. John and his hunky brother and cousin, aren’t you? Not that I blame you, but remember, you don’t really know these guys.”
“Funny. I feel like I’ve known them all my life.”
“Are you sure your head’s all right?”
“Ha-ha. I know how it sounds, but it’s the way I feel.” She couldn’t find any words to explain the strange sensation she experienced when one of them touched her. The incredible feeling intensified whenever all three of them got near her.
“Okay, so you want to stay with them. At least I’ve got their names for the cops whenever your body ends up in a ditch.”
“I can trust them.”
Sandy grew silent. “If you’re sure…”
“I’m sure.” Even Catherine found it odd that she was so certain she could trust three men she barely knew. Yet she did.
“Okay. Then how are you going to get them to take you home with them?”
“I don’t know, but if there’s any way I can make that happen, I’ll figure it out.” Would she have to invite herself? To do so, she’d have to find the men first. “I’m hanging up now. Be sure to text Thomas for me.”
“What are you going to do?”
Catherine pulled on the thin robe the nurse had brought. “I’m going to track them down, one way or another. Talk to you soon.” She ended the call. Using the brush one of the kind nurses had thought to bring her, she began smoothing her hair.
First, I need to find John. Once I do, then I’ll worry about finding Tatum and Smoke.
She took one look in the mirror and cringed. With no makeup and not having washed her hair in two days, she wasn’t exactly in man-hunting mode, but what could she do about it? Who knew? Maybe since they lived in a small rural town they were into the natural look.
She slid off the side of the bed and tested her leg by putting some of her weight on it. Every time she’d wanted to get out of her bed, she’d had to call a nurse to make it into the bathroom, even though she really hadn’t understood why. Her leg barely hurt, but they’d told her that it was hospital policy and an order from Doctor Westbrook. She hadn’t bothered to argue.
So far, so good.
Her leg didn’t hurt. At least, no more than it would if she’d banged her knee on a piece of furniture. She pushed off the bed, eager to test her full weight on it. Smiling, she shifted back and forth on her feet, enjoying the fact that her leg wasn’t bothering her.
Okay, then, I’ll just take a little stroll.
Outside in the hallway, she paused and took a good look around. The medical center was hardly the envy of any city hospital. The hallway led to a center receiving area. If she listened hard enough, she could hear the sounds of the larger room that comprised the admitting area. There were no signs pointing to radiology or the maternity ward. It seemed everything was located in one building with
free access to every part of it.
Here goes nothing.
Pulling herself to her full height and jutting out her chin in a defiance she needed to feel more than show, she acted as though she were walking into a red carpet event. The non-skid sock-slippers the nurse had given her stuck to the linoleum floor as she strolled past one then two closed doors. Were there more patients in those rooms? So far, she hadn’t heard any other patients moving about.
“You’re doing great.”
John.
She shifted toward the door to her right. He was definitely in that room. She could hear his voice, softer now, reassuring. More than likely he was talking to another patient. Did she dare barge in and interrupt them? It would be rude, but it would be better than waiting in the hall for who knew how long.
Sometimes a girl just has to be rude. Besides, the door’s partially open anyway. I’ll consider that an invitation.
Her hand was on the door when she heard a woman’s voice. She froze, suddenly needing to know more before barging inside. Why was the woman laughing? Somehow the bright gaiety of the laughter felt as though it was more than merely someone entertained by a joke. Instead, it was more like when a woman was flirting. Was someone flirting with John?
Irritation morphed into jealousy, hot and hurtful. Who was this woman anyway? Why didn’t she shut the hell up and let the doctor get on with his job?
“You’re so funny, Smoke.”
So Smoke was inside, too? Was Tatum with them? Why hadn’t they come to visit her? Did they visit all the women patients in the hospital? Had they played her, making her think she was special when she was just another room number?
Worse yet was the biggest question of all. Why was she jealous? It wasn’t as though she and the Westbrook men had any kind of a relationship.
Or is it because I wish we did?
She dared to peek around the edge of the door. As soon as she did, she knew she’d been caught.
