by Janice Lynn
“I would have paid your way,” she defended, just in case he’d thought she’d meant for him to dig into his own pockets to help her.
He looked insulted and gestured toward her darkened computer screen. “I’m not for hire.”
Her face heated. “That’s not what I meant. My covering your expenses would only have been fair. You shouldn’t have to pay to bail me out of a bad situation.”
His expression became pensive. “Is that what this is? A bad situation?”
The worst.
“Spending the weekend with my family will be torture if I go home alone.” For so many reasons. “They’ll be beside themselves with worry that Paul and I’ve broken up. The last thing I want is to have everyone focused on my broken heart instead of my cousin’s happy day.” She sighed. “Plus, I’m in the wedding. I have to go. Yeehaw.”
Feeling tears she’d have sworn she didn’t have left fill her eyes, McKenzie turned toward the computer. She moved the computer mouse, lighting up the screen again.
“I just want to go home, celebrate my cousin’s wedding and enjoy spending time with my family.” A tall order, under the best of circumstances and perhaps impossible while trying to forget about her breakup with Paul. “But, no worries, I have a plan.”
Not necessarily a great plan, but one that would hopefully suffice to keep her first trip home in eons from being completely ruined.
Maybe it would work.
* * *
Were those tears in McKenzie’s eyes?
He’d stopped by the dictation room because he’d wanted to assure himself she was okay. Not to cause fresh tears in her beautiful eyes.
Which was what he’d managed to do.
He should have just kept walking, kept with the status quo of going the opposite direction when she was near.
But he hadn’t. Now how was he supposed to quit being haunted by memories of her tears when he had another reminder?
When he’d triggered her tears with his prying?
Seeing her upset undid his insides, made him feel as if he’d wronged her by saying no.
McKenzie’s breakup with Paul wasn’t his problem.
Her trip home wasn’t his problem.
So, why were his feet refusing to walk away?
Why was he wondering how difficult it would be to rearrange his hospital and clinic schedules?
“You’re sure hiring a date for a weekend away is safe?”
Because he did not like the idea of a hired stranger being with her for an entire weekend.
Without turning to look at him, she shrugged. “It’s not something that I’ve any experience with, but I plan to do my homework prior to finalizing which company and escort I go with.”
Ignoring that he still stood there, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number from the computer screen.
“Hello? I’d like to make an appointment to possibly hire a date for next weekend.” Pause. “Yes, for the entire weekend. If I decide to go with your company, it’ll involve being with me around the clock and traveling out-of-state.”
Hearing her say the words out loud, hearing the break in her voice, the resigned desperation but determination to proceed with this crazy idea of hers in her tone, left Ryder’s insides cold.
He couldn’t let her do it.
No way could he walk away and leave her at the mercy of whomever the agency set her up with. What if the guy exploited her vulnerability? Or was a serial killer?
Ryder didn’t consider himself any sort of a white knight, but his mother had raised him better than to stand by and watch a woman set herself up to be taken advantage of.
Nope. Not happening.
Walking over to her, heart pounding at what he was about to do, he took the phone from her and disconnected the call.
“Hey!” she fussed, reaching for her phone back. “What did you do that for?”
Hoping he didn’t live to regret what he was about to agree to, Ryder handed over her phone. “You’re not hiring someone to take you.”
Her chin lifted. “Excuse me? I’m a grown woman and can do whatever I choose.”
Ryder admired the flash of fire in her green gaze. “Sorry. I should rephrase that.”
He took a deep breath, assured himself that he was doing only what any decent person would do, that he had no residual feelings for McKenzie, and that he was completely safe from falling under her spell again because he didn’t do rebound relationships.
No getting involved with someone who was already emotionally involved with someone else, whether that was an active relationship, or one recently ended.
Not ever.
He’d go, keep her from possibly risking her safety by hiring a date, pretend to be her boyfriend to keep from spoiling her trip to Tennessee then he’d come home, and they’d go back to ignoring that they even knew each other.
“You don’t need to hire anyone—” here went everything “—because I’ll go with you to Nashville.”
* * *
McKenzie couldn’t have heard Ryder correctly. Had he really just said he’d go with her?
“I’ll need details.”
Hands shaking as she gripped the phone, he’d given her back, McKenzie couldn’t hide her shock. “You’ll go.”
“If it means not having to worry about you traveling with a date you know nothing about—” his tone said that she’d been willing to do so was ludicrous “—then, yes, I’ll go.”
Disbelief filled her.
“Why?” She wasn’t sure if she meant why would he worry about her or why would he be willing to go. Both, she decided. She didn’t understand his reasons for either.
“Quit looking a gift horse in the mouth, McKenzie.” He gave a low laugh, as if this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary and she was making a big deal out of nothing. “Just tell me what I need to know so I can get my schedule rearranged.”
Because he was going to go with her.
He’d save her face regarding her breakup with Paul, ease any uncertainties her family had regarding her not being happy in Seattle and regarding Reva being the first to marry and McKenzie’s suddenly single status. His being there would keep her family from playing pity party and matchmaker.
It could work.
“I’m flying in on Thursday—” saying the word flying had her stomach lurching “—so I can be there for the rehearsal on Friday and whatever else my cousin has planned. If you’re sure—” she couldn’t believe he was “—then, I’ll purchase a ticket for you to fly up on Friday afternoon and to leave after the wedding on Saturday night.”
“Is Saturday night when you’re coming home?”
She shook her head. “I’m not headed back until Sunday.”
Regarding her, Ryder shrugged. “I’ll take off a few days, go with you on Thursday, and fly back with you on Sunday evening. I’m overdue a minivacation.”
She’d never expected him to say yes, much less rearrange his work hours to accommodate her trip.
“Where will you stay?” She blurted the question without thought, much as she had her initially asking him to go with her. She especially hadn’t considered how his next words would turn her insides outward.
“Wherever you are, girlfriend.”
Girlfriend? McKenzie’s eyes widened and her teeth sank into her lower lip. Hello, crazy heart rhythm.
Heaven help her.
Her stomach flip-flopped much as it did at the thought of boarding a plane and being trapped inside for hours on end.
His answer shouldn’t send her into panic mode.
His intent eyes shouldn’t have her heart racing.
But they did. Maybe she hadn’t thought this out as well as she should have.
Ryder was an attractive man. Perhaps she shouldn’t toy around with dating him, not even when it wasn’t real.
“Fine. I’ll stay there. I can sleep on the sofa, if needed.” He didn’t look concerned. “Unless you think your mother isn’t going to like me and will throw me out?”
He was going. Never in a million years would she have thought he’d be who rescued her.
“My mother would like any man who was keeping me from spinsterhood.”
It was the truth, but even the pickiest of mothers would leap for joy if their daughter brought home Dr. Ryder Andrews, pediatric cardiothoracic surgeon extraordinaire and gorgeous to boot.
“Spinsterhood?” Ryder’s brow arched. “Your breakup with computer guy doesn’t catapult you into fear of spinsterhood, surely?”
“You’d think, but try explaining that to my mother.”
“If you want me to.”
Because he’d be in Tennessee and would meet her mother. Something none of her Seattle friends had ever done, including Paul.
Had she not been so afraid to fly, they’d have gone home to meet her family. Her brother, Mark, had been to Seattle several times and seemed to like Paul well enough. Funny how childhood tragedy could leave one child terrified to board a plane and have another facing his past by becoming a pilot.
“You’re really going to Tennessee?” she asked, wanting to make sure she wasn’t misinterpreting. “That is what you’re saying? You’re going to pretend to be my boyfriend for my cousin’s wedding weekend, so my family won’t start using spinster hashtags when discussing me and I can enjoy my trip home without their pity or matchmaking?”
CHAPTER THREE
DR. RYDER ANDREWS didn’t think McKenzie had anything to worry about when it came to spinster hashtags.
She was an intelligent, beautiful woman any man would be lucky to spend time with and call his own.
No doubt, when she was ready, she’d soon replace her ex.
But next weekend, she’d be spending with him.
With him playing the role of her pretend boyfriend.
He stared down into the wide green eyes looking up at him, full of hope that he was saying yes. Eyes he’d been avoiding looking into for months because he’d instantly liked McKenzie, been attracted to her, and quickly learned she was taken.
With McKenzie, he’d been tempted to walk down that slippery slope and risk the fallout.
He’d been down that road before, and it hadn’t ended well.
That he was tempted to become involved with someone involved with someone else had made him that much more determined to stay away from her as much as possible.
He’d found her eyes enchanting, found looking into them left him unsettled, so he’d stayed away.
Yeah, McKenzie had no worries on growing old alone unless remaining single was what she chose. Not with those killer eyes that flashed with intelligence, lush auburn hair that he’d once thought about running his fingers through more often than he could count when his eyes closed and dreams took over, and a curvy bod that no lab coat or scrubs could conceal. He might have suppressed his fascination with her, but that didn’t mean he didn’t recognize that McKenzie was a beautiful woman.
If Ryder had to say what he liked best about her, though, his answer would be her intelligence and how she could see outside the box. How, during those first few weeks they’d known each other, their gazes could meet, and he’d know what she was thinking. She’d know what he was thinking. And they’d share a smile. When he’d realized she was off limits, he’d tried to avoid consults on her patients, but when it had been unavoidable, he’d always been impressed.
He’d never met anyone like her, had been disappointed she was already taken, had often had to remind himself to back away and remain aloof so as not to overstep.
He’d asked her once, early on, if she was happy in her relationship. She’d enthusiastically told him she was, that she and Paul were in love and planned to spend the rest of their lives together.
That’s when he’d decided to squash his attraction to her.
“I’ve never been to Nashville,” he admitted, knowing she was waiting for him to clarify that he was going. “Maybe we’ll get a chance to do a little sightseeing.”
“Seriously?” Her forehead scrunched. “You’re going with me and will be my pretend boyfriend?”
Rather than see her hire an escort service? Absolutely.
“I’ll go with you to your cousin’s wedding in Tennessee as your pretend boyfriend.”
* * *
McKenzie asking Ryder to be her pretend boyfriend had morphed him into the friendly man she’d met initially.
Okay, not quite that friendly, but he at least didn’t run in the opposite direction anymore when he spotted her.
Whether at the clinic or at the hospital, he’d smile when their paths crossed, had even stopped to chat when he’d come into the break room and found McKenzie and her nurse there, having coffee while discussing phone calls from patients’ parents.
He’d stuck around only long enough to refill his reusable water bottle, but his smile had stuck with her for the remainder of the day.
As long as he was smiling, that meant he hadn’t changed his mind, right?
Regardless, his avoidance of her seemed to be a thing of the past.
Such as now with Sawyer Little’s case.
McKenzie had been doing her one day a week on call at the hospital when she’d been consulted for the newborn who’d been okay for the first few hours of life but had started having a grayish-blue tinge to her skin—thankfully her mother had noticed and called for the nurse.
The nurse noted a decreased oxygen level and mild dyspnea and contacted the pediatrician. The pediatrician had checked the baby, ordered an oxygen tent and consulted McKenzie as he suspected a cardiac issue in the newborn.
McKenzie was just getting ready to do a crib-side echocardiogram when Ryder had walked into the neonatal cardiac intensive care unit.
Meeting her gaze, his eyes darkened, but then, the corners of his mouth lifted.
Heaven help her, the man had an amazing smile.
That had to be why her breath hitched up a few notches.
An alarm dinged from the next bay over and it took McKenzie a moment to realize it hadn’t been a warning bell sounding in her own head.
She really needed to keep Ryder in proper perspective. She was just getting out of her relationship with Paul. The last thing she needed was to confuse Ryder’s kindness with the possibility of something more happening between them.
She didn’t want anything more to happen between them.
The nurse who was assisting McKenzie with Sawyer glanced up. “That’s my other patient. I need to change an intravenous medication bag.”
“Go,” McKenzie told the woman. Each NICU nurse was assigned two patients, typically. “I’m good and will call out if I need you for anything.”
The nurse took off for the next bay. Their unit was designed with an open hallway with each baby in their own semiprivate three-sided bay. The nurse’s station was on the opposite side of the hallway and faced the open bays.
Ryder had stopped at the nurses’ station and was pulling up a chart on the computer system. He wore dark navy scrubs and she doubted anyone would be surprised if a camera crew walked in and started filming his every move for some medical drama. He looked as if he should be gracing the big screen and tugging on hearts by resolving one medical drama after another.
McKenzie pulled her attention back to the sweet little girl, took warmed gel, tested the temperature on the back of her hand, then applied some to Sawyer’s chest.
She ran the conducer over the baby’s left ribs, checking the heart chambers, walls, valves and vessels.
She grimaced at what she found.
Sawyer’s left ventricle and aorta were too small. There was very little blood flow through the underdeveloped l
eft side of the heart, which explained the faint bluish tinge to the baby’s skin despite the oxygen her pediatrician had started.
“You have a minute?” she called over to where Ryder stood fifteen or so feet away.
“Sure.” First making a couple of clicks to close out whatever he’d been looking at on the screen, he came into the bay and stood by Sawyer’s hospital bed. “Everything okay?”
“Not for this little one. She was born during the night. Mom attempted her first breastfeeding and thought her color looked off. Her pediatrician consulted me. Unfortunately, I’m going to be consulting a pediatric cardiothoracic surgeon and you just happened to be standing nearby.”
Ryder glanced down at the almost seven-pound baby with various tubes and monitors attached. McKenzie moved the conducer back over the baby’s chest to show Ryder the undersized ventricle and vessel and the lack of blood flow on the left side of Sawyer’s heart.
“Hypoplastic left heart syndrome,” Ryder said, giving voice to McKenzie’s thoughts.
She nodded. “It wasn’t picked up on during Mom’s ultrasound. She only had one, between four and five months, but the anomaly mustn’t have been as prominent as Mom says nothing unusual was mentioned.”
McKenzie moved the conducer over to where she could see the ductus arteriosus. The small vessel that connected the aorta to a pulmonary artery was still patent, allowing oxygenated blood to travel from the right ventricle to the aorta. Thank goodness.
If the opening closed, as it normally did within a couple of days, blood wouldn’t be able to be pumped to the body.
If blood wasn’t being pumped to her body, Sawyer would die.
“Is she on Prostaglandin E1?”
“Not yet,” McKenzie answered, knowing they needed to start the substance that the body naturally made to keep the vessel open while in utero, but that the body stopped making at birth. “She’d just started showing symptoms right before I was consulted and you’re seeing this as I am.”
“Gotcha. I’ll get an order for stat Prostaglandin E1 so we can keep that vessel open,” Ryder offered, walking over and logging into the bay’s computer to type in the order.
