by R J Nolan
“I’m fine. Get going. Your team is waiting.”
“Are you sure?” Dale hated leaving her here by herself.
“Dale!” Dana, already strapped into a chair, wheeled toward her.
“Go.” Logan smiled and gave her chair a little push.
“I’ll be back.” She sketched a wave before heading for Dana and her teammates.
As Dale rolled away, Logan took the opportunity to look around. About forty people filled the bleachers on one side of the room. Wheelchairs unlike any Logan had seen before, with their wheels canted out at an angle, were filled with players waiting to take the court.
She had been surprised to see Dana in one of the wheelchairs. She had assumed when Dale said she was a teammate that it was as an assistant, not a player and that the game was for disabled players. Then again, from just her brief exposure to the woman, she fit that criteria; she just wasn’t physically disabled. Logan had to admit she had been a bit taken aback during her brief encounter with Dana. Foremost was the hostility radiating from her, but that wasn’t all that made her daunting. Logan had never met a woman with such extensive tattoos. Dana sported full-sleeve tattoos on both heavily muscled arms as well as ones on her chest and back, exposed by her tank top. Her purple, clipper-cut, spiked hair added to her arresting appearance. But under it all, what Logan saw was a woman trying desperately to cover up her pain.
The sharp sound of a whistle brought her attention to the game. Ten players took to the court, Dale among them. The play was fast and furious.
Logan had assumed that since they were playing in wheelchairs, the game would be slower and less physical. The exact opposite was true. They played with an intensity that was sometimes frightening. The specialized wheelchairs were incredibly fast and maneuverable. She winced when another player slammed into Dale’s wheelchair.
“It sounds worse than it is.”
Logan started at the sound of the woman’s voice.
Standing at the end of the bleachers was a woman who appeared to be in her early thirties. She tucked her dripping hair behind her ears and pulled off her rain-soaked jacket. A younger man stood next to her. He looked vaguely familiar, but Logan couldn’t place him.
“Damn it. The game has already started.” He tossed his jacket next to the woman’s and quickly stripped out of his running pants exposing a pair of shorts and a below-the-knee prosthetic. Plopping down near Logan, he doffed the leg and liner. “Here. Hang on to this.” He shoved the prosthetic into the hand of the woman accompanying him. Without another word, he hopped away.
The woman shook her head. She started to offer her hand to Logan, then seemed to remember the leg she was holding. She grinned and put it down before offering her hand. “Hi. I’m Lark.”
“Hello. I’m Logan.”
They shook hands.
“Nice to meet you.” She sat down next to Logan. “And that rude person,” she motioned toward the young man settling into a wheelchair, “is my brother, Jeff.”
The sight of Dale surrounded by other players as she fought to take a shot distracted Logan.
“First time at a game, huh?”
What? Logan turned her attention back to Lark. How did she know that?
Lark laughed. “You just had that look. I remember the first time I saw a game. I was petrified that Jeff was going to get seriously hurt before the game was over.” As if to punctuate her words, several players crashed together. Dale’s chair tipped over when she overbalanced while grabbing for the ball. She used her hands to stop herself just in time to avoid doing a face-plant on the hardwood floor.
The action moved away from her as the play continued.
Dale managed to flip her chair onto its side but was trapped in place.
Why wasn’t anyone helping her? Logan surged to her feet. Lark’s hand on her arm made her start.
“It’s part of the rules,” Lark said. “If the player is in no danger, the play in progress continues.”
Dale worked to release the straps across her thighs and ankle that were holding her in position and keeping her from using her good leg to right the chair.
The ball landed out of bounds, and the referee blew the whistle. Dana and another teammate immediately headed for Dale. Dana said something to Dale, who shook her head. Her teammates watched as she righted herself and refastened the straps.
Logan slumped down onto the bench.
“You’re here with Dale?”
“Yeah.” She wanted to ask why Lark sounded so surprised, but she held her tongue.
“Can I give you some unsolicited advice?”
Logan met Lark’s gaze and read nothing but an honest attempt to be helpful. “Okay.”
“Don’t intervene or even show too much of a reaction to any injuries. I know it bothers you to see Dale get hurt, and you just want to help. I feel the same way about my brother. But that’s not how they see it.” Lark tipped her head toward the court.
Logan nodded. Even Dale’s own teammates allowed her the chance to get up on her own first. And she’d seen before how much it bothered Dale when she thought she was being perceived as anything other than fully capable. “Thanks for the advice.”
“No problem. I learned the hard way, and for a while, Jeff refused to let me come to his games.”
Would Dale do that if she felt Logan embarrassed her in front of her friends? She couldn’t picture her reacting that way. But then again, she had thought after the time they spent together on Christmas Day that Dale would be more comfortable about exposing her prosthetic and amputation. That had clearly not been the case tonight. The thing was, she hadn’t even looked at the prosthetic. Instead she’d stared at Dale’s ass and muscled thighs so beautifully displayed in the shorts she was wearing.
“How do you know Dale?”
Logan was startled out of her thoughts. Never one to give out personal information, she thought fast. How much did Lark know about Dale? “We work together.” That was benign enough.
“At the VA?”
Logan shook her head. “No. We work together at LA Metro.”
“Are you an ER doctor too?”
Apparently, Lark knew several things about Dale. Logan relaxed a little. “Yes.”
Lark glanced out onto the court. “I owe Dale more than I can ever repay. Until she stepped in, I thought I was going to lose Jeff too. And not to his injury.” She met Logan’s gaze, her own filled with remembered pain. “He’s the only family I have left.”
Logan’s heart went out to Lark. “I’m glad Dale was able to help your brother. She’s an amazing woman.” Lark’s comments about Dale didn’t surprise her in the least. In just the short time she had spent at the VA, she had seen what a role model Dale was for other injured vets.
“Yes, she is. And it was more than just helping him adjust. She really went out of her way to help him with his PT, not only when he was first hurt but just recently when he had a setback with an infection.”
At the mention of PT, it hit Logan where she had seen Jeff before. Heat rushed through her as the memories of watching Dale work out with him flooded her mind. She resisted the urge to fan herself. No wonder she hadn’t recognized him. She’d only had eyes for Dale.
Another memory of that day flashed through her mind: Dale had her prosthetic off, not even covered by a protective sock, and seemed perfectly at ease as she worked with Jeff. And she’d clearly helped Jeff become comfortable with his amputation. Logan glanced at his leg lying on the bench. Was she the only person Dale didn’t want seeing her without the prosthetic on? The thought hurt.
The crash of metal on metal and the sound of the referee’s whistle brought their attention back to the game.
While Logan would have been just as happy to watch the game by herself, Lark had remained next to her and had filled her in on some of the rules specific to this form of basketball. She also talked more abo
ut the things Dale had done for her brother.
By the time the end of the game approached, Logan had seen a completely new side of Dale, and she wasn’t sure quite what she thought of it. Dale’s demeanor during the game had been totally at odds with the gentle woman Logan had come to know. It wasn’t the fact that Dale was fiercely competitive; that hadn’t surprised her. What had was her aggressive style of play. Logan had never considered basketball a contact sport, but you would’ve never known that watching this game. The play was so rough, they should have been wearing protective pads. After watching the chairs smash together, she understood why most of the players wore padded, fingerless gloves.
She glanced over at Lark, who hadn’t seemed at all surprised by the rough play, so today’s game clearly wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.
The buzzer sounded, ending the game. A cheer went up from the crowd.
“Let’s go congratulate the winning warriors,” Lark said.
“You go ahead. I’ll just wait here for Dale.”
Dale was surrounded by her teammates as they celebrated their win. She looked over and waved. Before Lark could walk away, Dale broke away from the crowd and rolled over. Her hair was plastered to her head. Sweat dripped down her face, and her shirt was soaked.
Logan worked to keep her gaze on Dale’s face and off the shirt clinging to her chest. “Congratulations.”
Dale grinned and pumped her fist. “Thanks!” She peered up at Lark. “Hey, Lark. Good to see you. Thanks for keeping Logan company.”
“My pleasure. Great game.” She leaned down to hug Dale.
Dale put a hand on her shoulder to hold her off. “I’m all sweaty.”
Lark brushed her hand aside. “Like I care.” She gave her a hug.
“Jeff’s really getting good.”
She looked toward her brother. “I should go congratulate him and say hi to everyone.” She turned back to Logan. “It was nice to meet you. See you at the next game.”
Would Dale invite her again? Not wanting to put Dale on the spot, Logan settled for a noncommittal nod. “It was nice to meet you too.”
As Lark quickly gathered her and her brother’s belonging, Logan tried to surreptitiously scan Dale for any injuries.
After Lark walked away, Dale met her gaze with a challenging glint in her eyes. “I’m not hurt.”
Damn. Apparently, she hadn’t been as stealthy as she thought. But Dale wasn’t being truthful. She not only had scrapes on both knees from hitting the floor, but a large bruise was forming on the back of her right hand. And Logan couldn’t help wondering what other injuries were hidden beneath her clothes. While she wanted to insist Dale take care of it immediately, she hadn’t forgotten Lark’s advice. “Looks like your hand could use some ice.”
Dale shook her head adamantly. “I’m fine. It’s my own damn fault for forgetting my gloves.” She rolled closer to Logan and snagged her duffle bag off the bench. “Let me go grab a quick shower and change, then we’ll head for the restaurant. Okay?”
Worries of Dale’s injuries were sidetracked by thoughts of Dale, a shower, and hot, soapy water. She shook away the erotic images. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll be waiting.”
“Okay. I’ll be quick.”
As she watched Dale roll away, she barely resisted the urge to follow her. Just to check and make sure she didn’t have any other injuries. Yeah. Right!
CHAPTER 34
Logan glanced up at the clear evening sky as they crossed the parking lot. The storm had vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Dale hurried to open the door before Logan could. She smiled her thanks. As they stepped into the small restaurant, Logan checked out the interior. It was decorated with a map of Europe as well as a myriad of photographs of Italy. On closer inspection, Logan realized that the majority of the patrons were same-sex couples.
“Do you have reservations?” the hostess asked as they approached.
“Yes. For Parker. I requested a booth.”
The woman checked her book, then led them past tables covered in checkerboard tablecloths to a small U-shaped booth in the back corner. A candle flickered inside a glass globe on the table.
The low lighting and soft music made for an intimate and romantic atmosphere, bringing home the fact that she really was on a date with Dale. Butterflies fluttered in Logan’s stomach.
Dale slid into the booth first, then once Logan sat down, moved over next to her. Their thighs touched beneath the table. Logan repressed a shiver at the contact.
Dale rested her arm on the back of the booth above Logan’s shoulders. “This okay?” Dale asked low-voiced.
Logan met her gaze and felt some of her own anxiety wane at the realization that Dale was nervous too. “It’s good.”
“Would you ladies like to start with some wine?”
“Not for me. I’ll have a Pellegrino,” Dale said. She glanced at Logan. “I need to rehydrate after the game. Please, have some wine if you’d like.”
“No thank you.” Dale’s close proximity was intoxicating enough. She needed to keep a clear head. “I’ll have a Pellegrino as well.”
The hostess handed them menus. “Your server will be with you shortly.”
When Dale flipped open her menu, Logan caught sight of her hand and the bruise she had seen earlier. She gently stroked her fingers across the back of Dale’s hand. “Are you sure that you don’t want to put some ice on this?”
Dale pulled her hand away and hid it under the table. “I told you. It’s fine.”
Logan tried unsuccessfully to keep from scowling. Despite her resolve, it had been hard to watch Dale play. “I didn’t realize basketball was such a contact sport. Are the games always that rough?”
“We’re a pretty competitive bunch.”
It had appeared to Logan that a lot of the aggressive play was an over-compensation for the players’ assorted physical deficits, but she kept that opinion to herself. The game had definitely shown her a different, fiercer side of Dale.
“Sorry you didn’t enjoy the game.” Dale’s shoulders slumped.
Logan cursed herself. She hadn’t meant to make Dale feel bad. She clasped Dale’s arm. “That’s not true. I was just worried about you.” Hoping to lighten the mood, she added, “I don’t like seeing you get a boo-boo.”
Dale grinned, the light returning to her eyes. “Well, if you’re really worried, you could always kiss my boo-boo and make it better.”
Jumping at the chance to touch Dale, she grasped her wrist and tugged Dale’s hand from beneath the table. “Okay.”
Dale’s eyes went wide.
Keeping eye contact, she brought Dale’s hand to her lips and placed a soft kiss on the bruise. As soon as her lips touched Dale’s skin, Logan realized she’d made a mistake. The soft skin only served to remind her of how soft Dale’s lips were. She lingered, kissing the bruise a second time.
Dale’s pupils dilated as her irises became streaked with blue.
Arousal skittered down Logan’s spine. Her gaze darted to Dale’s lips, and she leaned in close, intent on tasting those soft lips again.
“Are you ladies ready to order?”
They both started at the sound of the server’s voice.
Logan moved back but didn’t release Dale’s hand. She couldn’t believe how close she had come to kissing her senseless despite the fact they were in the middle of a restaurant. She darted a look at Dale, hoping she wasn’t upset.
Dale looked more flustered than upset. She gave Logan’s hand a brief squeeze. “Give us a few more minutes, please.”
The server nodded and walked away.
Logan released Dale’s hand and picked up her menu. “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to get carried away.”
Dale laughed. “I started it. But maybe we better save any more boo-boo kissing for later.” She leaned in close for a moment. “I have a few
others…that I can’t show you here.”
Logan gulped, then nodded; her thoughts immediately went to other spots that might need kissing.
Dale glanced away and cleared her throat. “So ah… What sounds good?”
You. Suddenly she wasn’t hungry at all, at least not for food. She had fought her attraction to Dale for months. It was the reason she had convinced herself that she had to leave. But that had all changed. Now that she didn’t have to deny it anymore, keeping herself from acting on her feelings had become even more difficult. The longing to touch her, to be with her, was growing with every passing moment. And seeing the same emotions in Dale’s eyes wasn’t making things any easier.
“Logan?”
She shook her head roughly, pushing away the distracting thoughts. “Um, let’s see.” She scanned the menu. “I think I’ll have the three-cheese ravioli.”
“Good choice. They make their own pasta here. I think I’ll have the ravioli too.” She motioned for their server.
While Logan had enjoyed the food and their conversation as they talked of work and about the possibility of her volunteering at the VA, now that their dinner was drawing to a close, her thoughts were once again turning in a more arousing direction. She forced her gaze away from Dale and the torture of watching her lick the filling from her cannoli.
“So have you had a chance to think about where you want to get an apartment?”
What? Logan almost choked on a bite of tiramisu. She swallowed hastily. “Apartment?”
“I just figured if you’re staying permanently, you’d want get a place—right?” Dale’s expression was a mixture of hope and insecurity. “You wouldn’t need to stay in the motor home anymore.”
“Honestly, I hadn’t considered moving into an apartment. We’re used to the motor home.” Anxiety made her stomach ache. Could she make that leap? She had been on the run for so long, it was a daunting thought to give up her means of escape.
Dale’s brows furrowed and her eyes went dim. She looked away.
Fear greater than that caused by the idea of moving out of the motor home hit Logan hard. No more hiding, she sternly reminded herself. If she was truly serious about starting a new life and pursuing a relationship with Dale, things had to change. She couldn’t expect Dale to live with the uncertainty that she might disappear at a moment’s notice. And there was Drake to consider as well. He was getting older, and travel was becoming harder for him.
