by Sadie Sears
I flung the door open. “What?”
Justin, face covered in white goop, walked right past me as I gaped at him. “By all means come in.” I shut the door and turned to him, swirling my finger at the mess that was his face. “Do I even want to know?”
“For your information, it’s a moisturizing mask. You might consider one. It’ll clear up some of that dry, scaly thing you have going on.” He smiled and a dollop of goop slid from his chin to his shirt. I followed its trail with my mouth halfway hanging open. “I heard your date was a fiasco.”
“It’s too early in the morning for this.” Justin’s conversations, even the few I’d had so far, required a fair amount of attention, which made caffeine necessary. I walked to the kitchen to brew some coffee. As I filled the filter with grounds, he moved closer and put the lid back on the can.
“You’re gonna have to get some coffee to go. Gretta’s expecting you at her place so you guys can figure out your next move.” He pulled his phone from the pocket of his scrubs and tapped the screen a few times. “There. I sent you her address.”
“What? Gretta wants to see me?” She hated me. Hadn’t even tried to disguise it. “What next move?”
“Follow the bouncing ball, Sam. She needs to see you. And you have a weird hair thing going on.” He reached to adjust it, but I ducked him. “Go jump in the shower.”
But I was still stuck on the first part. “Gretta wants to see me?” She’d been ticked off the last time I saw her. She’d said it was okay, but she’d been mad that I’d had a hard time controlling my temper.
Justin nodded and another dollop fell, this time on my kitchen floor. I stared at it until he shoved me toward the other side of the house and the bathroom. “Yes. She wants to see you.” He spoke like saying it slowly would make it easier for me to understand. “And wear that cologne from the other night. She liked it.”
Justin’s voice faded behind the slammed bathroom door.
She liked my cologne. My smug satisfaction lasted about three seconds. Then reality hit like a punch to the sternum. She didn’t want to see me. She wanted to see the guy her ex thought she was seeing. If Leath had taken the job, or Taurus—another earth dragon—or Cam himself, she would have wanted him instead. Probably because none of them would’ve been standing in the bathroom trying to figure out what to say to her without scaring her off.
“Pull it together, O’Lachlan.” They probably wouldn’t have been talking to themselves either.
By the time I got out of the shower, Justin had gone, and he’d cleaned up his goop. Good thing, too, because my confidence couldn’t handle the ten or so wardrobe changes he probably would’ve insisted on. He’d sent her address to my phone along with instructions to bring coffee. According to the goop-monster, Gretta was a beast without it.
Ha. Yeah, she was the beast. Last time, Gretta and I hadn’t separated on good terms, and I wanted more than anything to help her, to make her problem with Bill go away, but if she knew I was the literal beast, no way would she accept my help. I talked myself in and out of going about ten times before I even walked out of the door.
She didn’t live far from me, and after I picked up the coffee, I walked across the street from the café to her building. At least the coffee would be hot.
I wanted to see her again, and all I had to do was walk up the stairs, knock on a door and wait. But cold fear trickled down my spine. Fear of heartache. Fear of falling for someone who didn’t want me back. I hesitated at the door. It wasn’t like me to be so anxious and hesitant. I was a leader, a fearless soldier with a small hero complex.
Love was another matter entirely. Gretta and I were supposed to love each other. That word turned my gut into jelly.
Truth was, I didn't know Gretta. She could've been an ax murderer—probably not—or just a run-of-the-mill bad person. Although, destiny wouldn't have chosen her for me if she was either of those things. Probably. I swallowed hard and went in and straight up the stairs to her apartment.
I knocked on the door, balancing the cardboard coffee cup holder in the other hand. Just act normal. After some rustling inside and a quiet swear, the door flung open.
Gretta swept her dark, disheveled hair from her face. That mass of sexy hair would’ve looked wonderful draped on my pillow. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What are you doing here?”
My stomach did a nauseating flip, but I had the presence of mind to hold out the drink tray. Like a fool. Damn, she was adorable. Grumpy, yes, but adorable.
She sniffed the air between us, and her nose wrinkled, hiding a line of freckles in the crease. There was nothing about this woman I didn’t find attractive or wasn’t falling for already.
“Cinnamon latte?” She poked her nose closer to the cup.
“Yeah.” The cinnamon was mine. I bought the regular coffee with cream for her. But I didn’t correct her when she plucked the latte from its holder and took a long sip. A dribble of liquid dripped down her chin.
Adorable.
"Careful." I reached out and caught a droplet on the end of my finger. Oh, God. She had smooth skin. Silky. And my dragon wanted—I wanted to take her face in my hands, pull her close, and kiss her until neither of us could breathe, or think, or stand. Instead, I pulled away and wiped my finger on my jeans. Maybe to wipe off the moisture. Maybe to stop the tingling where I’d touched her.
“Coffee, uh, on your chin.” I gazed into her soft, hazel eyes and let myself get lost for just a second—or it could’ve been an hour—before I snapped out of it enough to speak. “Did I get the time wrong? Justin said you wanted to go over our next move.”
If he’d been lying…I’d put food coloring in all his goop pots. See how he’d like that.
Gretta sighed, and then pulled the door open and stepped to the side. “Ignore the mess. Bill has his crap everywhere.”
My dragon perked up. We were inside her place. And she was wearing button-up pajamas. I stared and almost tripped over a box of sports memorabilia.
“Oomph.”
She turned back with her face red as she bent to shove the box out of the way. “I’m so sorry. Bill’s crap is literally everywhere.” Gretta’s cheeks flushed darker, turning to crimson, and I couldn’t stop looking at her.
She cocked her head and perched a hand on her hip. “What? Do I have something on my face?”
“No.” She was beautiful. I cleared my throat. If I told her she was gorgeous, and I wanted to spend the rest of my life gazing at her, she would probably kick me out. Then I’d never see her again, but that didn’t make it any less true. And if she wasn’t enough to distract me, her place would’ve done it. Not the Bill parts that really were everywhere, but there was a distinct part of the apartment that was all her.
I ran my finger over a ceramic teddy bear wearing a stethoscope on the shelf next to the Physician’s Desk Reference, a few copies of the American Medical Journal, and a graduation cap picture frame with a photo of her and a woman I assumed to be her sister. On the wall next to the shelf, her diploma from Robert Larner, MD School of Medicine in Burlington hung next to another photo, this one of her accepting her diploma at a graduation ceremony. The ropes hanging around her neck meant she’d graduated with honors.
“You’re impressive, Gretta.” Out of context, hyperaware it was ridiculous, and she didn’t have the benefit of being in my head to make it sensible, but she smiled, gathering context from my gaze on her diplomas. I had to push down my dragon as he began pacing, anxious to be closer to her. I cleared my throat. “I know I screwed things up the other night, but I want to make this right for you. And get this guy out of your life.” I didn’t add that she could move on, but it was what I meant.
“You still want to help me? After the way I spoke to you? Which I need to apologize for, by the way.”
I glanced around the apartment before cocking an eyebrow at Gretta. “I think you need my help. And apology accepted.” She hadn’t said anything too bad, but her tone of voice had been pissed.
>
Gretta met my gaze, and I saw a flicker of fire in her eyes—a determination, a go-getter attitude. The flame in her was fueled by destiny. Our destiny. I was almost sure there had to be a part of her soul that recognized mine.
She nodded. “What do you have in mind?” She took me by the wrist and guided me toward a small, cluttered kitchen table. “Sit, please.”
A jolt of electricity shot through me, and I barely suppressed a sigh. Every instinct and urge I had, plus the dragon inside me, wanted to pull her against me. Show her my dragon. But now wasn’t the time. She needed time to get to know me first, and that meant going slow and winning her over with my patience and determination.
“Marry me.” Holy. Shit. So much for going slow.
Gretta had moved to stand at the sink and pour her latte into a mug. She whirled and sloshed her drink onto the floor. "Are you out of your freaking mind?" She shook her head and put her mug on the counter to pick up a dish towel. "I know you want to help, but that's going a little too far. I mean, way too far. Don’t you think?”
I laughed. Nervous. Manic. But explainable. “No, I mean let’s pretend to get engaged. Take some selfies, make it public. That should convince your ex we’re a real couple.” As I talked, I took the towel from her and cleaned the spilled coffee off of the linoleum. When I was finished, I folded the towel into a long rectangle and set it on the counter, then moved to sit so I could shove my trembling hands under my thighs.
My dragon paced; furious I’d included the word pretend. He didn’t understand situational nuances. I couldn’t just blurt out that we should get married and skip the relationship’s beginning and middle since we were destined anyway. She wasn’t altogether amenable to pretend, so doing it for real was out of the question.
“Hmm, I don’t know, Sam. I’m torn. I want to get rid of Bill, obviously, but if he makes a scene or causes some sort of ruckus and word gets back to his dad, then…” She shook her head. “I need that research position.”
This was for her job? That didn’t seem like a good enough reason. “What research position?”
She smiled and sat across from me at the table where every fleck of green and gold in her eyes taunted me. “I’m applying to work with Dr. Holt, who is Bill’s dad. The team he’s leading is looking into degenerative diseases—their cures and treatments. He’s looking for a new assistant, and I need to be on that team.”
“Is Bill’s father anything like his jackass son?” Not the most politically correct phrasing, but apt.
“No. Dr. Holt is a bit kinder and more compassionate. He’s been a great mentor to me.” She frowned then placed her elbows on the table before resting her chin in her palm. “But I’m not sure how he’ll take me breaking up with Bill. And I know he wouldn’t turn down my application just because we aren’t together anymore, but these results have to be achieved with the utmost in concentration, and I don’t want him to think I’ll be distracted. I don’t want a scene with Bill, and the rumors that always follow that kind of thing, to jeopardize how he sees me or to taint how he views my work.”
“Makes sense.” I studied her and saw a myriad of expressions cross her face before her beautifully shaped lips twisted into a faint little smile, which faded away just as quickly.
“I probably shouldn’t have dated my boss’s son, but he was charming and funny. And persuasive. At first.” She didn’t elaborate, which was good, because I couldn’t listen to her praise his finer moments.
She shrugged. “Too late now, I guess.”
“Tell me about the research position.” Anything to keep her talking. I could’ve listened to her all day and all night for the rest of my life.
“I’m desperate to discover something to help my sister. She has MS, and lately, her flare-ups are more extreme, more painful. Even if I can only create new medications to help ease her symptoms, it’s better than what she has now. And this research team is geared for it. And it’s here, in Spruce, which is a miracle in itself, and it means I get to stay close to Lila and Zoe. She’s my twelve-year-old niece.” Gretta’s voice faltered slightly, and she raked a hand through her hair. “I really want this job.”
Now I understood why she didn’t want me to use whatever means possible to get rid of this guy and his stuff. “I can see why.” And if there was anything that made me admire her or like her more, it was how passionate she was about her family, her job. I laid my hand over hers and let the heat from my palm warm her skin. She didn’t pull away, so I gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
She looked up at me, and a tear slid down her cheek. She swiped it away with her free hand, but another slid down and dripped off her chin. Her sadness broke me. I moved to the seat next to her and stroked her hair without thinking twice that the motions might not be appropriate or wanted.
“I feel hopeless. I sit and watch her suffer because there’s nothing I can do. Medicine isn’t there yet. And I’m tired of it. So freaking tired.” She swiped at another few tears and sniffed, but she didn’t move away or pull her hand back.
But it wasn't enough. I wanted to make her feel better. If I had to dance a jig half-naked on the table, I was prepared to do it to see her smile. But before I got desperate, I brought her knuckles to my mouth and pressed a soft kiss against her skin.
“You’re doing everything in your power to help your sister. And she knows you are.”
Gretta sighed and closed her eyes, put her head on my shoulder. She was allowing me to see her vulnerable side, and it was as beautiful as her happiness, her feistiness, her anger. As a dragon and her protector, I wanted to remove any threat. Personal, professional. Bill fit both. But as a man, I wanted to comfort her, let her know I was there for her no matter what. She went still and breathed evenly. She was truly exhausted. I wondered if she’d worked all night.
After a few minutes, she raised her head. “Did I fall asleep?”
Not that I minded. My dragon and I wanted to take her to the bed and let her curl up on us and sleep until her body and mind were replenished. “Only for a second. But it gave me time to fine-tune my idea.” I hadn’t really, but I could come up with something quick. Hopefully.
But Gretta clasped her hands together and pointed at me. "I've got it! We can go to Xavier Red’s. It's this great, fancy place. The chef has a Michelin rating and the best part, he knows Bill personally. Word will get back to Bill." She fist-pumped the air with both hands. "Yes! This is perfect. I'll make a reservation. They'll think it's for Bill and me."
I stifled a laugh because excited Gretta was gorgeous Gretta. “Sounds like a plan. When do you want to go on our big date?” I was only half-joking. Anything that required a tie and suit jacket was a date in my book.
Gretta’s smile faded. “It’s not a date. It’s necessary. And I’d call it a business meeting.”
The flutter in my stomach died. To her, I was a lackey for hire. “Right.” I stood and headed to the front door. “You can text me the information. I’ll see you later.”
She opened her mouth, but I already had a hand on the doorknob. I had to get out of there. There was no way I could pretend I wasn’t hurt. I wasn’t that good an actor. Brad Pitt wasn’t that good an actor.
Destiny had screwed this one up. Maybe it was my fate to be alone.
5
Gretta
I picked up my pace to burn off some nervous energy. The last thing I needed was to spill something or let my nerves make a fool of me at Xavier Red’s. I wasn’t sure whether it was the thought of running into Bill’s friends while I was with Sam or if it was seeing Sam again, but I’d been jumpy all day, jumpier with every minute that ticked off the clock and brought me closer to dinner time.
Wednesday, I’d seen something in him, something unexpected, a tenderness and gentility. He’d listened to me and comforted me. Not at all like the thug I’d pegged him to be when we first met. Then at Sprucie’s, he’d tried to stick up for me with Bill and defend my honor. Instead of thanking him, I’d been a bitch to him about it.
My heels pinched, and I wanted to blame the uneven sidewalk for my stuttering steps, but I wasn’t used to wearing anything that wasn’t meant for running around the hospital. I slowed down and concentrated. The last thing I wanted was to end up sprawled on the ground in front of Xavier Red’s and my soon-to-be fake fiancé.
My stomach did a little flip. Married to Sam. The way he’d asked, it was almost like…but no. Best not to even consider such a thing. Besides, I couldn’t get married. Men needed attention, time, and I had neither to spare.
"Hi, Gretta."
I looked up to see Sam push off the wall where he’d been leaning. I knew a lot of words, medical and otherwise, but the best I could come up with to describe Sam tonight was…oh…my…God.
I let my gaze linger a little too long over the length of his body and his dark blue suit that fit snugly in all the right places. His eyes seemed to flash orange in the light, and my heart pounded. When I looked again, his eyes seemed more amber—certainly an unusual and beautiful color. Now, they were kind and warm as he searched my face.
He cleared his throat and straightened his tie. “You look beautiful.”
He’d said it once before, but I was never going to get tired of hearing it. Especially in that soft tone with his half-smile and those eyes. Damn, I wasn’t supposed to actually be attracted to this guy.
“Do I look okay?” he asked.
I would have said he was nervous if it wasn’t for the faint smirk on his face. I couldn’t help smiling in response, feeling a little more self-assured as I raised an eyebrow. “You’ll do.”
Sam chuckled and held out his hand. "After you." He gestured toward the restaurant door. Either he was a true gentleman, or he had the act down. Probably the latter. But we were playing our parts, so I smiled up at him.
As we waited for the maître d', one of Bill's college friends, Phillipe, gave me a half-wave, as if he wasn’t quite sure he should be saying hello. I waved back and smiled. Oh, yeah. I probably wouldn’t be through the first course before he’d call Bill.
