“I didn’t know you worked here.”
“Surprise.”
He rocked from side to side, and then the sway landed him in the seat across from her. “Mind if I join you?”
She minded a lot. This was the farthest thing from her wish. She didn’t want to be in close proximity to him any more than she had to. His messy brown hair, five o’clock shadow, and good manners—even if the manners were obviously forced—were a lethal combination. She forgot all about his mean words and remembered how they practically grew up together and wasn’t their teasing and one-upmanship some of her best memories? Oh God, she could not fall back into liking him. Any romantic notions would ruin her friendship with Vanessa and label her the Worst Maid of Honor Ever.
“I was actually just leaving,” she said. She had to get away. Seeing him on her terms was one thing, unexpectedly quite another.
“Wait,” he said, catching her arm as she pushed back her chair. “Are you okay?”
His question got under her skin. “What makes you think I’m not?”
“You look upset.” He rubbed his hand along his jawline. “The usual sparkle in your eyes isn’t there.”
Oh, no. He was not going to start being nice and noticing her differently now. Not after all this time.
“I could ask you the same thing. What are you doing here?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I asked you first.”
She leaned forward with her elbows on the table and noticed for the first time a pink scar along his hairline. Something had happened to him and damn if she didn’t want to know what it was. The nurse in her really needed to care less about people.
“A patient of mine has an infection, and I’m worried about him.”
“Him?” He said the word as if he genuinely cared and wanted further explanation. Which only confused her more. His sincerity and concern was like waving a giant white flag and offering her a dozen red roses at the same time.
She needed to get the hell out of there, but her good manners told her to finish the conversation first. “His name is Liam. He’s seven going on twenty-seven, athletic, tells the best knock-knock jokes, and he might lose a leg.”
“That’s rough. It’s a good thing kids are pretty resilient though, right? And he’s lucky to have someone like you in his corner.”
“Right.” Sela shook her head at the compliment, and her mood lifted once again. Luke didn’t say he was sorry. He didn’t pity her or her patient. Somehow he understood that those things didn’t hold much weight in the pediatric wing. Perseverance and hope did.
Luke studied her, his gaze far too unnerving.
“I know something happened to you,” she said, breaking the silence. She didn’t want to talk about herself. But she was curious about him and she couldn’t slide her butt off the chair to leave. For medical reasons, she needed to lend an ear. Strictly medical reasons.
Liar. If she thought a conversation about what pained him would distract her from thinking about what it might be like to kiss him again, she was sorely mistaken.
“And how do you know that?” His light tone indicated he’d either resigned himself to telling her or he was going to try and dismiss it as nothing.
“A feeling.” Without her permission, the corners of her mouth lifted and in response she got a sexy-as-all-get-out smile in return. “Plus I saw you wince at brunch and you’ve got a fairly fresh scar here.” She reached a hand up and almost touched his temple before touching her own hairline instead.
“Guess there’s no denying it.” His gaze moved somewhere beyond her shoulder before settling back on her.
She crossed her arms over her chest and waited.
When he didn’t continue right away she added, “You can trust me.” She had no idea where that came from. Trust? He’d demolished any hope of her ever trusting him, yet here she was offering it? The only reason she could think of for saying such a stupid thing was because his eyes had softened and his very nice mouth remained in a friendly position.
Damn, but he was a pain in her ass. With subtle force, she slid closer to the edge of her seat, ready to take her leave immediately after he shared what had happened. Her stomach knotted at her quick consideration of him, and she looked toward the counter. Georgette stood there with an impossibly wide grin and both hands in the thumbs-up position on either side of her face.
Sela swore to avoid the cafeteria for the next week. Possibly out loud, because Luke said, “Pardon?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. So do you want to tell me what’s going on or not, because my break is almost over.”
Luke tugged at his collar even though it looked perfectly loose. The two top buttons of his long-sleeved green Polo shirt were in fact open, and Sela had to drag her eyes away from his smooth, tan skin. It wasn’t even summer yet and he was sun kissed as if he’d spent the last month outdoors. Which he probably had.
“I was here to see…” He paused and took a slow breath. “I was here to get a chest X-ray.”
“You’ve been having chest pains?” she whispered, her heart squeezing at the thought. This was not part of her wish. She didn’t want him to suffer. Only wanted him to stay away.
“No. Some shortness of breath and fatigue. I punctured a lung a few weeks ago.” His shoulders relaxed like a weight had been lifted.
“On an assignment?”
“Yeah. Fell into some rapids that decided to toss me around like a beach ball between boulders.”
“Oh, Luke.” Again, she almost reached out to touch him but snatched her hand back just in time. Her face burned. “How many broken ribs?”
“Three.”
“Any other injuries?”
“A concussion. Some pretty bad abrasions, a few needing stitches,” he said mildly, but his hands had choked his sandwich to death, the cling wrap mangled.
“And your family doesn’t know, do they?”
He cut a quick glance over her shoulder again. “No. And I’d like to keep it that way.”
Sela glanced at her watch. Saved by the hands of Minnie Mouse, thank God. Because the surest way to get her to forget about her wish was to a) let Luke’s accident reel her in to keep an eye on him, given she was apparently the only one who knew, and b) believe his confiding in her meant they were friends all of a sudden.
She shoved her macaroni and cheese at him. “I’ve gotta go. Try this. It’s really good.”
Without a glance back she took off for the exit. She couldn’t let what had just happened influence her to forget what Luke had done. Guys like him knew all the right words and all the right moves, and she couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t make a fool out of her again.
This time the stakes were greater. This time she had a duty to Vanessa and if she stayed focused on the wedding, she’d get through the next few weeks without a hitch.
She would not falter in her maid of honor responsibilities. No matter what the best man said or did.
…
Luke downed his beer and, rather than look at his best friend sitting across the table, took in the sights of the Crown & Anchor Pub.
Milt still poured drinks from behind the bar, his manner surly as ever, but his longevity in Cascade had reached national-treasure status, so no one complained. The only other thing Luke recognized were the team photos on the walls. His high school baseball team had been state champion two years in a row. Looking at the pictures now, an unexpected stab of nostalgia dimmed his sour mood.
“Saturday, dude. You. Me. And the waves at Seascape Beach,” Shane Sullivan said. “We haven’t surfed together in forever.”
“Appreciate the offer, but I can’t.” The tide at Seascape was fierce, and he hoped Shane didn’t see him shiver. He fisted his hands at his sides and wished like hell the thought of water didn’t scare the shit out of him.
“Wedding crap?” Shane raised his eyebrows and his forehead creased in sympathy.
Thankful for the excuse, Luke nodded. “And I’m enlisting your sorry ass to help me w
ith the bachelor party on Saturday night.”
Shane’s expression brightened. “Booze and babes, my friend. That’s all we need.”
Luke could get on board with that. He leaned back against the leather booth and flexed his fingers. Those two B words sounded like the perfect prescription to help chase away the pity party he had going on with himself.
But then an RN in light blue scrubs with eyes that sparkled like shiny new pennies and a mouth that begged to be kissed flashed in his mind.
What the hell had he been thinking when he told Sela about his accident? He hadn’t been able to ignore her—hadn’t been able to stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth easier than he’d thought they would. Warmth and compassion radiated off her in waves and they’d hijacked his resolve.
“Can I get you boys anything else?” the waitress said, bumping her hip against the table. Her gaze fell on Shane.
“That depends. Are you on the menu?” Shane asked.
Luke rolled his eyes. Shane worked fifty-hour weeks as a project engineer, but when it came to women, he’d never had to try very hard. Probably because of his one-liners.
The waitress, a pretty blonde wearing a white shirt, short pleated skirt, and black-rimmed eyeglasses, laughed. “If I was, what would you do with me?”
Shane leaned forward and pulled the pen from behind her ear. Then he took her hand, turned it palm up, and wrote something. “If you really want to find out, call me and I’ll go over the details with you.”
She laughed again, like she had no intention of calling him, and said, “I’ll be right back with your check.”
“I’m a sucker for the sexy schoolgirl look.” Shane smirked and put his hands behind his head. “So bachelor party. I’m pretty sure Sela told me the girls are going out Saturday night, too.”
“Oh?” A spike of interest had him sitting taller in the booth. Would booze and babes apply to them as well? And why did that bother him?
“Yeah. They’re headed to a new Moroccan restaurant for dinner and then bar hopping.” Shane put his elbows on the table and lowered his voice. “I was at Sela’s the other day and saw a few of the things she bought. You think we have dirty minds? She is going to embarrass the hell out of Vanessa.”
“Sela?” He couldn’t imagine her doing anything too crazy. In high school she’d mostly had her nose in a book, and when she did take part in the action, it was only from the sidelines. He’d often sneak peeks at her, though, curious about what she’d do if he hauled her away from her safety zone.
“My sister isn’t as innocent as you think.”
Luke narrowed his eyes. “No?”
“On second thought, don’t think about that.” Shane squinted. “You’re thinking about that. Dude. She’s my little sister.”
Right. She was off-limits. And since when did he think about her that way?
“And you called her corpse lips or something like that,” Shane added with a wry smile.
Luke inwardly groaned. He hadn’t thought about that day in almost ten years and now twice in the past two days, he’d been reminded of his juvenile behavior. And his shame. He regretted the way he’d treated her more than any other indiscretion in high school. But when a guy is taken completely by surprise—by his best friend’s little sister of all people—he says and does shit to protect himself.
“You remember stuff like that, but not the name of that place up north I called and asked you about last month?” Luke wanted to give Vanessa and Hayden a weekend getaway to a bed and breakfast in Washington as a wedding present. Shane had taken a girl there last summer and raved about it, but then couldn’t recall the name. Luke doubted he remembered the name of the girl, either.
Shane shrugged. The waitress dropped their check on the table. “Have a good night,” she said. Then she tilted her head in Luke’s direction, looked him straight in the eyes, and added, “You be sure to come back and visit sometime.”
He cracked up. The invitation was obviously to get Shane’s goat, and it did. The muscles in his friend’s jaw ticked. Shane threw money down on the table, enough to let the waitress know he didn’t take her slight personally. Luke matched it, and they both stood.
“I’ll see you this weekend,” Shane said.
“Looking forward to it.” Luke slapped him on the back and they headed to their cars.
An hour later, because he’d decided to take a few detours around Cascade to see if anything had changed, he parked and took the walkway up to his parents’ house. He welcomed the chill in the air, the smell of brine and earth and honeysuckle. The scent lured him around the house and onto the dirt pathway leading to the beach.
His whole life, he’d stepped along this narrow divide between shrubs that bloomed flowers all year round. When he was little, he’d dragged his dump trucks. As he got older, he brought his boogie board, then surfboard. And not long after that, girls, whose soft hands slipped into his rough one and who seemed eager to follow him wherever he might lead.
The moment he set foot in the wide expanse of sand softer than sugar, he took off his shoes to feel as well as remember his youth. No other beach he’d visited—and there had been dozens—matched this one.
A vision of a girl in a white sundress, the bodice tight, the skirt long and flowing, the sun setting behind her, danced in his mind. Sela…at a family party his parents threw a few weeks after graduation. He hadn’t talked to her the rest of his senior year, both of them keeping their distance. And he hadn’t talked to her that night, either. Over the summer he’d had glimpses of her with his sisters, but she’d never noticed him.
His breath hitched, his memories of then tangling with his memory of today. Today he’d talked to Sela and shared something he swore not to tell anyone outside of work. Was it because she was a nurse? He didn’t think so. Something about her reached right inside him and plucked out the details, the genuine layers beyond the superficial. She was present—rooted in the moment with him—not thinking about anything else. And people didn’t do that anymore. They multitasked, even when speaking with someone, their mind racing ahead to the next thing.
But Sela listened, her interest in him earnest, and he knew he could trust her. She hadn’t needed to say it.
The sand beneath his feet turned hard and wet. He’d reached the surf…and reached a decision. Sela hadn’t crossed his mind in years, but since Sunday she’d taken up space in his head and he wanted to apologize for how he’d treated her all those years ago. He owed her that.
Keeping his distance afterward should be easy. Hell, the last thing he wanted was her playing nurse now that he’d acted like a girl and practically cried on her shoulder. “Pansy,” he muttered. If he could kick his own ass, he would.
No more, though. No more sharing crap. He’d take all the pre-wedding and wedding pictures Vanessa wanted, focus on healing his body, and the day after the wedding return to his life.
Chapter Three
Worst hump day ever.
First, Sela’s alarm clock had forgotten to set itself and she arrived at work twenty minutes late. Late equaled a lecture from her supervisor. Second, on the way to Vanessa’s house, she’d run out of gas. Shane had told her weeks ago to get the gauge checked after he’d come to help her when she’d gotten stuck on the side of the road. She’d nodded and added it to her list of things to do ATW—after the wedding.
Her car currently resided in a no-parking zone on White Sails Road. But because she didn’t want to be late, she decided to take her chances and hope she didn’t get a ticket. Her thumb had hitched her a ride to Vanessa’s, an action she still had no plans to share. If anyone knew she’d hitchhiked rather than called for help, she’d get another lecture, and one a day was plenty. It didn’t matter that they lived in Cascade, the safest town in Oregon, and that sweet, gray-haired Matilda Witt—Tildie to her pals—had been her Good Samaritan. The chance that a psycho stranger passing through could have picked her up was all anyone would focus on.
Now here she was, s
tanding in the Watterses’ kitchen in her scrubs because she hadn’t had time to go home and change.
Oh, and she smelled like hand sanitizer times twenty.
“Check it out,” Vanessa’s younger sister Erin said. She slapped down a yellowed piece of paper with greasy splotches on it.
Next to Erin and her wavy, shoulder-length brown hair, bright blue eyes, and bronze cashmere sweater dress, Sela felt like Cinderella eons before the ball.
She lifted her elbows off the granite countertop, but the rest of her weary body continued to lean against it. She picked up the paper and smiled as she read the recipe. “You found it.”
“Finally.” Erin bounced up and down. “We are absolutely going to win this year.”
“You’re going to win,” Sela corrected. “I’m just the sidekick.” When Judge Brewer’s granddaughter—and Erin’s nemesis since middle school—Candace “Candy” Brewer got bored and started “The Chocolate Games” two years ago and told Erin she had about as good a chance of winning as Erin’s cat, Rover, had of actually barking, Erin had taken the challenge and vowed to win the online baking competition.
The past two attempts hadn’t worked out very well.
So Sela told her she’d help out this year. What was one more thing on her already full May plate?
Sela scooted around the kitchen island and plopped onto a stool. Erin took the spot next to her and said, “We’ve got a week to get it in.”
“Get what in?” Luke asked, strolling into the kitchen and giving a quick tug on his sister’s hair.
Erin swiped her arm at him, catching his shoulder. “Would you quit doing that? It drives me up the wall.”
Luke pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge, ignoring his twenty-three-year-old sister, and then stood across the counter. His sweaty T-shirt clung to his broad chest; his face was just shy of pink.
Sela’s first instinct was to ask if he was okay before she caught herself. He’d obviously been running, and she shouldn’t care that just yesterday he’d said he was short of breath. “You do know we have a dance lesson in a few minutes?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Worried I’ve worn myself out?”
Kissing the Maid of Honor Page 3
