by Jill Shalvis
Shirl smiled. “You’re a good person, Jane. If you’re worried about her, we’ve got personalized collars and tags out front. You can put your phone number on the tag. In fact, you can put multiple numbers on the tag. A lot of people put down their significant other’s number too, so if their pet ever gets lost, you can both be contacted. Would you like that? Would your significant other want to be put on the name tag?”
A tag that would claim Cat as her own. That seemed like both a horrible idea and the best idea on the planet. “I’ll think about that too,” she said softly.
LEVI SPENT THE day in the back office at Cutler Sporting Goods. He purposely waited until everyone was busy to let himself into the stock room. He wanted to do an inventory check against what was in the system, because so far, as near as Levi could tell, Cal had dipped his fingers into just about every corner of the family business.
Levi needed to get the authorities involved so they could nail Cal’s ass, but he didn’t want to freak out his parents and Tess until he’d finished his audit. He wanted to have all the details before breaking all their hearts. And he was close.
But after last night’s date, his mission at the store today was more than just the inventory check. He wanted to ask Tess what the hell she’d been thinking befriending his pretend girlfriend.
But his sister came to him, poking her head into the back storage room. “What are you doing poking around back here?” she asked.
He leaned against a wall of shelving. “Seems to me you’re the one poking around in other people’s business.”
She blinked. Grimaced. And then came all the way into the room and leaned against the shelving unit opposite him. “You’ve got something to say?”
He resisted the urge to be the baby brother and come right out with it, because from experience he knew that would only make her defensive. No, the only way to get information out of Tess was to outwit, outlast, and outplay her. Ten years older than him, she’d been bossing him around since birth. On the other hand, she’d also been loving him since birth. He knew she’d been blindsided by her divorce and terribly hurt, all the while still managing to be there for his parents and her daughter. And him.
That’s why she interfered, he reminded himself. Because she loved him, in her own messed-up way. Still, he just stared at her, knowing the value of silence when it came to gaining any intel from her. She hated silence and always rushed to fill it. And she would, in three, two, one—
“Fine,” she said. “Clearly Jane told you about our coincidental meet-up.”
Coincidental, his ass. “I don’t know how you figured out where she would be scheduled that day and what time she would take her break, but that was no coincidence, Tess.”
She shrugged. “So one of our regular customers happens to be an X-ray tech and knows her. It’s not my fault you won’t tell us anything about your girlfriend. Like the fact that she’s not your girlfriend.”
Never underestimate the depths of deception that an older bossy sister would sink to. That had been his first mistake. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Mistake number two, denial.
Tess smiled, knowing she had him. “She’s clearly single, Levi.”
“Or she isn’t into gossiping about her love life.”
“Is that the story you’re going to go with?”
Damn. He could compound his errors by continuing the pretense, but his sister was better than any lie detector in the land. Besides, maybe she could help him find a way out of this farce that he never should’ve started to begin with. “Okay,” he said. “So hypothetically, let’s say I do have a pretend girlfriend.”
Tess crossed her arms. “Uh-huh . . .”
“What if I wanted to make things real?”
“Let me guess,” she said. “You’re asking for a friend.”
“Sure,” he said. “Let’s say that.”
Tess looked at him for a beat. “Is your friend asking for advice to get into this woman’s pants, or is he genuinely seeking advice on how to get to know this person—because I don’t want to see her hurt, and you have a way of being effortlessly charming when you want to be and getting whatever you want.”
“I’m asking for a friend, remember?”
“Is your friend an idiot?” she countered.
He sighed. “Forget it. Forget I asked.”
The door opened and nearly hit his sister in the ass. Shirl Cutler came in, bouncing with joy. “Guess who I met today during my volunteer shift at the humane society!”
Levi turned and thunked his head against the steel shelving. “Why?”
“Don’t worry. I didn’t tell her who I was.”
Mateo came in behind Levi’s mom. “What did I miss?”
Levi sighed. “And you’re here why?”
His mom gasped. “What kind of way is that to speak to your oldest, bestest friend?”
Behind her back, Mateo grinned at Levi.
Levi very discreetly gave him the middle finger.
“And I invited him here,” his mom said. “Because we have all that leftover food from today’s birthday lunch for Dusty. Mateo’s just worked a bunch of days in a row and I bet he hasn’t eaten a good home-cooked meal in forever. I’m packing him up leftovers.”
Mateo was one of the best cooks Levi knew. The guy was actually a huge food snob. Even though Levi believed that Mateo had indeed worked a bunch of days in a row and was probably near dead from exhaustion, there was no way he hadn’t eaten.
“Come help me, Tess.” And with that, Levi’s mom and sister were gone.
Mateo plopped into one of the two chairs in the corner and rubbed his hands over his face.
“Long few days?” Levi asked.
“You could say that.”
Levi dropped into the other chair. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”
“No.”
“Okay, glad we could clear that up.”
Mateo swore beneath his breath. “What do you know about your pretend girlfriend’s best friend?”
“How do you know about Jane?”
“I have my ways. Tell me what you know about Charlotte.”
Levi shrugged. “I met her last night. She seems really nice.”
“Nice? That’s it?”
“I know she’s a doctor,” Levi said. “At your hospital. Which means you know way more about her than I do.”
Mateo leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees and his face into his hands.
Mateo was one of the most easygoing, giving guys Levi knew. It was a miracle, really, given his demanding profession and the needs his family put on him. When the Morenos had lost Amy, it’d left Mateo an only child of elderly parents. Elderly parents that he’d become solely responsible for. Between that and the demanding job, Mateo had no personal life outside his family. Levi had been a real dick for vanishing on him, leaving Mateo without emotional support. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s smart as hell, sharp as hell, feisty and sassy and . . . hell.” Mateo slid his fingers into his hair. “Gorgeous.”
“Not hearing a problem.”
“She’s outta my league, man. But she’s the One.”
Levi stared at him. “Charlotte?”
“No, jackass, the Easter Bunny. Yeah, Charlotte.”
“And this is a problem?”
“She doesn’t like me.”
Levi laughed.
“I’m serious.”
“Come on. You’ve never had to work for a woman in your life.”
“Until this one,” Mateo said. “When I get home before her, I clear her snow. She yells at me to put it back. Sometimes I leave her snacks in her cubby at work because I don’t think she remembers to eat. She thinks it’s the asshole X-ray tech who always hits on her.”
Levi burst out laughing.
“Not funny. Last week, I put air in her tires because I could tell they were low, and with icy roads . . .” He broke off and sighed. “
I’m so screwed.”
“Why not just tell her how you feel?”
“Really?” Mateo asked dryly. “Is that what you’re doing with Jane? Being honest about your feelings?”
“Hey, we both know how not an expert I am on this shit. But what’s so wrong with telling Charlotte how you really feel?”
“I’ll mess it up.”
Mateo had gone right from high school to college to medical school, then to residency and straight onward from there with his medical career. He was brilliant, but when it came to getting serious in a relationship, the guy had as little experience as, well, Levi. “You could just take it slow.”
Mateo laughed mirthlessly. “Our current pace is a tortoise trying to wade through peanut butter. If we go any slower, we’ll be going backwards.”
“What’s the hurry? Neither of you are going anywhere.”
Mateo rolled his eyes. “Tell me you got better advice for me than that.”
“Pretend girlfriend, remember?”
Mateo snorted, then shook his head. “We’re both such dumbasses.”
“No doubt.”
Chapter 14
Charlotte walked out of the hospital. It was the end of a shift, but the beginning of a day. At just past dawn, the sky was alight with an ocean of pinks, reds, and purples. She stood there for a beat, blinking at the bright winter light bouncing off the fresh snow blanketing the parking lot, face turned up to the emerging sun like a lizard.
Just concentrating on inhaling and exhaling.
When she could do so without that sharp stabbing pain of grief in her chest, she made her way to her car.
A young woman had died on her table last night while under her knife. As a horrible reality of her job, it happened. But it never, ever failed to take a little chunk out of her heart and soul.
Cranking on her heater, she turned the vents toward her as she drove home, but all the heat in the world couldn’t warm her up.
Her patient—“Talia,” she said out loud to her car. Talia, a twenty-two-year-old, had been a victim of domestic abuse. Feeling the prickle of tears behind her eyes, she blinked hard and pulled into her driveway. Which had been cleared.
Mateo, of course.
Dammit. Damn him. She was already trembling with the effort to hold back her own internal storm, the one that was playing havoc with her emotions, bringing them far too close to the surface.
Nothing good ever came of her emotions breaking free.
She stared at her house. He’d done the walkway too. How in the world was she supposed to deal with someone doing something nice for her right now? Answer: she couldn’t. Especially from Mateo, for reasons she didn’t quite understand.
Drawing a deep breath, she pulled her visor down to look into the mirror, needing to make sure there were no signs of her turmoil. She didn’t need a knight in shining armor to save her day.
She would save her own damn day.
She got out of the car and lost a portion of her self-righteousness when she didn’t have to wade through a foot of fresh snow as she made her way to his front door and knocked.
Nothing.
She tried again, rapping her fist harder onto the wood.
When the door finally opened, Mateo stood there wearing red knit boxers and . . . nothing else. No shirt. Bed head. Eyes heavy lidded. Bare feet.
He blinked blearily. “What’s up?”
“Put it back.”
“Put what back?”
“The snow,” she said. “Put it all back.”
He reached for her hand, pushed up her jacket sleeve, and looked at the time on her watch. When he saw it was five thirty A.M., he groaned. “I didn’t get out of the ER until an hour ago. I’ve had twelve minutes of sleep out of the past thirty-six hours. Are you crazy?”
“Yes. And you already know that. So you should also know that I’m completely capable of clearing my own snow, even after a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day at work.”
His eyes cleared and softened. “I know. I saw her in the ER. I had no choice but to send her to you in OR, but I hated it, because I knew what it would do to you.”
To her utter horror, she felt her eyes filling, and though she worked hard to keep them to herself, a few tears broke free. Dammit. Needing space, she turned her back to him, hating he’d seen her at her worst—vulnerable.
“I’m going to touch you now,” he warned in that same quiet, calm voice. Then she felt his hand on her arm as he slowly pulled her back around to face him.
She already knew he was perceptive. It was what made him such a great ER doctor, but it also made him dangerous to her heart, because though she hadn’t said a word about her past to anyone except Jane, he’d clearly gotten the gist of it from her own actions.
“Charlotte,” he said softly. “Come in, let me make you something to eat.”
Great, and now he felt sorry for her. Which pissed her off. Tugging free, she started to storm off before remembering the ice. Having to slow down really fried her ass.
“Charlotte.”
Nope, she was no longer speaking to him, but since he wasn’t the most talkative person to begin with, she wasn’t sure he appreciated the fact that she was punishing him. So she stopped and glared at him. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”
“Good, because I don’t.” His voice was low. Serious. “You’ve had a shit night, and let’s just say I know what that feels like.”
“I’m not fit for company.”
“Then we won’t talk. We’ll just eat. Then sleep.” Slowly, giving her plenty of opportunity to back away, he reached for her hand. “But first, I’d like to hug you again. Okay?”
More okay than anything she could think of. Fact was, she hadn’t stopped thinking about how safe she’d felt in his arms. Safe and secure and . . . not lonely. Because of her long hours, being alone was her norm, a by-product of her profession. And okay, yes, also because she’d chosen to be alone rather than let someone in to see what a hot mess she was on the inside. But she was tired of hiding.
“Charlotte?”
She nodded.
“I need the words.”
“Yes, please,” she whispered, and with a smile he stepped farther into the freezing cold morning in his bare feet and wrapped his arms around her.
She gasped as her hands came in contact with warm bare skin stretched taut over sinew. “Oh my God, you’re almost naked!”
“That was an ‘omigod, you’re almost naked’ in a good way, right?”
And that was how she found herself laughing and crying at the same time. Going up on tiptoes, she pressed her face into the crook of his neck, slipping her arms around him, holding on for dear life. “You’re going to catch frostbite,” she whispered against his throat.
He slid one hand up her spine, past the nape of her neck and into her hair, the other arm wrapped low on her hips as he held her close, and she wondered how something so simple as a hug could both give her such comfort and yet also rev her engines.
“Guess you’ll just have to keep me warm,” he murmured, his cheek pressed to her hair.
Closing her eyes, she breathed him in and held on for dear life. And he let her, cuddling her into him, her anchor in a world gone mad.
“You’re shivering,” she whispered.
“That’s you.” He pulled back but held on to her hand. “Come inside, Charlotte. I’ve got food. I even know how to cook it.”
She stared up at him. “Just breakfast, right? Nothing more.”
“I’d never ask you for more than you were willing to give.”
She wasn’t sure why such a simple statement felt so earth changing. No one had ever said such a thing to her.
He bent his head and looked into her eyes. “You in, or is it too much?”
That he would even ask her that meant everything. And he really had to be freezing, not to mention every bit as exhausted as she. But he was giving away none of that, just a calm, steady patience that was a balm to her soul.
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That was when her stomach chose to rumble and grumble like a locomotive engine. Horrified, she pressed her hands to her belly while Mateo laughed and tugged her inside.
She’d been in his house a few times. Once for a holiday party, which had been the first time she’d seen him outside of his role as a doctor. It had fascinated her, watching him with friends and family, all of whom clearly adored him. A few months later, they’d had a disagreement at work and she’d stalked off, angry that he’d reported a coworker and gotten him fired, only to find out later that coworker had been harassing a female coworker. She’d gone to his house to apologize. On both visits she’d spent more time concentrating on the man, not the place he’d made his home.
This time, she was afraid to concentrate on the man. She felt too . . . exposed for that today, and when she was exposed, she didn’t always make smart decisions.
So she looked around. The big living room had the same wall-to-wall windows hers did, framing the gorgeous mountains she loved. In her house, her furniture was feminine and a little flowery because, sue her, she loved a little flowery. Mateo’s place was all warm woods and neutral colors, and big, sturdy furniture that was inviting in a whole new way. No flowery anything anywhere.
There were noises coming from the kitchen, making her realize she’d stopped in the living room and Mateo hadn’t. She followed the sounds and found he’d pulled on sweatpants and a T-shirt, and she didn’t know if she was relieved or disappointed.
Still barefoot, he stood in front of his stove, cracking eggs into a pan. His other hand was holding a spatula, which he used to point her to a barstool on the other side of his cooking station.
So she sat, watching him chop up some veggies and toss them in with the eggs. Then he grabbed the handle of the pan and with a flick of his wrist, flipped the omelet.
Two minutes later he’d divided the eggs onto two plates, added toast, and served her with an easy efficiency that was sexy as hell.
“You’ve been doing that a long time,” she said.
He shrugged. “My parents worked around the clock. So did my aunts, and being the oldest, I was the babysitter of a lot of kids. It was cook or go hungry.”
