by Janice Lynn
Like him, she’d showered and was dressed in fresh scrubs. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a ponytail and a few freckles could be seen across her nose and cheeks. He’d thought it hundreds of times, but McKenzie’s ex was a fool.
“You headed home?”
“No, I’m going to check on a few patients, chart, check on Sawyer again, and—” she gave a wry smile “—somewhere during all that, grab something to eat.”
“No rest for the wicked,” he teased. Teasing her felt good, eased some of the exhaustion cloaking him.
“Speaking of which, you look like you need to crash for a few hours.”
He chuckled. Obviously teasing her hadn’t eased his fatigue enough. “Is that a nice way of you telling me I look bad?”
Her cheeks reddened. “That’s not what I meant. You just appear tired.”
“Like I said, Norwoods aren’t my favorite.”
“Because of the high mortality rate?”
Not surprised she’d immediately guessed his reason, Ryder nodded. “No doctor wants to go into a procedure that only has an eighty-five percent survival rate.”
“Your personal percentage is right at ninety.”
He wasn’t surprised she knew his stats. All the surgeons at the hospital had above-average percentages and the hospital was proud of that fact. Ryder knew the numbers could be better.
“That’s still one out of every ten babies who won’t make it to their first birthday.” Which gutted him, because that one who didn’t make it, that one was someone’s Chrissy.
“And nine who will because you reconstructed their heart to where it provides their body with oxygenated blood,” McKenzie reminded him, her chin lifting as if to say she’d counter everything he said with something positive. “Sawyer is going to be one of those nine. She’s a fighter.”
“I hope so.” He prayed all his patients survived, even when the odds were stacked against them.
“I’d not really planned to sit down to eat, just to get a yogurt or something since I really do need to check on a few patients.” She pinned him with her gaze. “If you planned to head that way, maybe we could walk to the cafeteria together?”
Ryder hesitated. He’d been with McKenzie most of the day, would be with her for an entire weekend. What would walking with her to the cafeteria hurt?
“Sure. I’ll walk with you.”
“I...” She took a deep breath. “I really appreciate you going with me to Tennessee, Ryder. I know how busy you are and truly if you ever need my help with anything, I’ve got your back.”
Was that why she’d sought him out? To thank him again for agreeing to go with her? He probably shouldn’t have for his own peace of mind, but still felt it was the honorable thing to do.
“Knowing I don’t have to worry about you getting the wrong idea or having unrealistic expectations from the weekend is such a relief,” she rushed on. “That’s why I had considered going the hired escort route, so I didn’t have the messiness of inviting someone who wouldn’t understand that I need the relationship to appear real even though I’m not interested in a real relationship.”
Which was good for him to keep in mind. He didn’t want a relationship with a woman on the rebound. McKenzie didn’t want a real relationship with him. Maybe, despite the fact he found her physically attractive, they could be friends after Tennessee rather than his having to ignore her.
He’d like that, he realized.
Because he liked McKenzie.
Which was exactly why they couldn’t be friends after they returned from Tennessee.
* * *
What had she done? McKenzie wondered for the thousandth time since she and Ryder had boarded the plane.
She must be crazy to think she could pull this off, to convince her family that she and Paul had broken up, but that she was ecstatic about it as she was now happily dating her colleague, Dr. Ryder Andrews.
No. Big. Deal.
A piece of cake.
Smooshed cake, but cake.
She could do this, could interact with her family all weekend, smile lots, pretend Ryder was the man of her dreams, and that she was over-the-moon happy in their relationship, that she had no remnant feelings for Clay or Paul. Although, she was beginning to wonder what it was about her that made men date her for years, then dump her.
Two men she’d devoted years of her life to and both had ultimately moved on. Was she so unlovable? She hadn’t thought so, but if she was the one who kept getting dumped that must mean something.
She’d dated only a few other times. Those had all been short-term relationships and she couldn’t recall who had quit talking to whom. Was she batting one hundred per cent dumpage?
Ugh. She should probably do some long, hard thinking on that, figure out what was wrong with her that drove men away. But first things first.
She had to ride in this airplane for nineteen hundred and seventy-four miles from Seattle to Nashville.
Ten million, four hundred and twenty-two thousand, seven-hundred and twenty feet.
Not that she was counting.
Flying terrified her.
They’d not even taken off yet and she was already clamoring to get out of the plane but trying not to let Ryder know he’d gotten himself into more than he’d bargained for.
Would he have still gone had he known she’d probably have multiple panic attacks over flying during their travels?
He’d probably go back to avoiding her the moment they returned to Seattle. Which was sad as she’d really enjoyed the times their paths had crossed the past two weeks.
Taking a deep breath, she told herself she had this, all of this; and in particular, her current situation of being strapped into an airplane seat. She’d flown multiple times in the past and always landed safely, right?
Yes, she’d fought a horrific anxiety monster each time, but she had survived, and she would this flight, too.
Throat tight, she glanced over at where Ryder read something on his phone, hoping that looking at him would distract her from the clawing at her composure.
For now, she’d keep a brave face on and remind herself why she was on the plane.
Yeah, she knew why she was doing this crazy trip to Tennessee.
What she couldn’t understand was why Ryder had been willing to adjust his already long hours to work patients in ahead of time so he could easily take off a few days to go with her? Had he needed an excuse to take a break from work that badly?
Right up until they’d boarded the plane, she’d expected him to tell her he’d changed his mind. Why hadn’t he?
Had boredom been his reason for saying yes? Perhaps he felt sorry for his dateless colleague and was making her his charity case for the year? Or maybe he’d once had a wedding to go to during a downtime in his life and could relate to how she felt—dumped, dateless and desperate.
Ha. As if.
The man was the department heartthrob and had probably never had a dating downtime his whole life, much less been dumped and desperate.
“Why are you doing this?”
He glanced up from the phone screen. “Reading an article about two-photon polymerization? Because I’m interested in how this technique is being used to achieve scaffolding in 3D printing of human tissue.”
McKenzie blinked. That’s what he was reading? Not that she was surprised. If ever there had existed a sexy brainiac, Ryder would fit that bill. The looks of a Greek god. A brain that rivaled the nerdiest nerd. She’d always recognized that he was the ultimate package. Only she’d been happy with Paul and hadn’t really ever thought about Ryder as anything more than a colleague who’d gone from friendly to avoidance.
Sitting next to him, she noticed. Just as she’d noticed the women eyeing him while they’d waited to board the plane. They’d all looked at her with envy. Ha. If they only knew.
“Isn’t that what you’re doing in the lab with the laser?” she asked, hoping he’d talk with her to help distract her from their surroundings.
She didn’t know a lot of the intricate details, but exciting things were happening at Trevane Technologies in the field of 3D printing human tissue and Ryder headed the clinical aspect of the research in regard to applying it to congenital cardiac diseases.
“Yes, that’s one part of what we’re doing in the lab,” he admitted, tapping his phone. “The article depicts the research a material science institute is doing and what they’ve achieved using a similar process to bioprinting. Although what we’re doing at Trevane is eons ahead in some aspects, their speeds for laying down tissue far exceed anything we’ve achieved.”
“Faster isn’t always better,” she mused, glancing out the window, then wishing she hadn’t. The last of the luggage had been loaded and they’d soon be preparing for takeoff.
“In this case, faster is better. Keeping the printed cells alive is the biggest challenge facing us on creating usable human tissue. If we can successfully print tissue faster, then hopefully we can achieve thicker layers without deoxygenation. Thicker layers means someday being able to 3D print vessels, valves, heart chambers or maybe even entire hearts.” Passion filled his words. “Can you imagine the implications if we could make a heart for patients needing a transplant rather than having to wait on a donor?”
The thought was mind-boggling, but something that was becoming more and more of a possibility. The research to further develop valve and heart tissue regeneration via bioprinting normally excited her because of what it meant for her patients, for all cardiac patients, and other disease states, too, as the principles carried far greater potential than just with cardiac care.
But, currently, she fought the sensation of panic’s hands gripping her throat and squeezing with all their might.
“I’m familiar with Professor Ovikov’s work,” he continued now that she’d gotten his attention. “We met years ago when 3D printing of live tissue was still in its infancy. Brilliant scientist.”
Something in the way he said the praise allowed McKenzie to force her blurring gaze away from the window and her mind not to register that the crew had closed the plane door and were moving about the cabin, checking the overhead bins one last time.
And then, they’d take off.
Talk to Ryder. Just carry on a conversation as if nothing monumental was about to happen.
As if she wasn’t about to be flung through the air at speeds she was positive humans weren’t meant to travel.
“Dr. Ovikov probably says the same about you,” she managed to get out despite her mouth deciding to imitate the Sahara. Seriously, how could her tongue be sticking to the roof of her mouth when her palms were sweating like crazy?
Statistics alone said she was safer flying than driving, right? Her brother constantly tossed that out at her when she complained about his chosen career path as a pilot.
“Maybe, but I doubt it,” Ryder admitted, staring at her as if he was starting to pick up on the fact that she wasn’t her normal calm, cool, collected self.
Ha. If he only knew how far from the dedicated pediatric cardiologist she felt.
“Our research overlaps and we have similar goals,” he continued, his honey-colored eyes darkening as he studied her.
Just keep talking. Distraction was the best way through this. They’d soon be in the air. Then she’d settle down a little. She didn’t like any part of flying but takeoffs and landings were always the worst. Always.
Ryder probably already regretted agreeing to do this wedding weekend. The last thing she needed was to freak out on him before they were even out of Seattle.
His gaze had narrowed.
Yeah, he was definitely on to her.
She swallowed, fought to keep her tone steady, and forced a smile to her slowly numbing face. “Is that a nice way of saying he’s your competition for upcoming grants?”
See, she sounded semi-normal. Her voice had broken only a little.
“She,” Ryder corrected, his expression saying he’d caught that tiny vocal glitch. “Dr. Anna Ovikov.”
Something in the way he said she truly distracted McKenzie from the plane as she wondered just what his relationship had been with said “she.”
Professional or something more?
She mentally scolded herself.
Look at her. Getting all curious about a pretend boyfriend.
“That’s fine. Go ahead. Read her research. Just don’t forget why you’re here,” she reminded him, digging her fingers into the airplane seat to the point she was surprised her nails didn’t break.
“How could I forget,” he teased, the corner of his mouth lifting even though his eyes were still dark with concern. “It’s not every day I play a coworker’s pretend boyfriend.”
“Shh,” McKenzie scolded, looking around to see if any of the other passengers had heard what he’d said. Across the aisle from him sat a teenaged boy wearing earbuds with his eyes closed. His mother was engrossed in a book. Neither was paying the least bit of attention to her and Ryder. “You can’t say such things. You never know who’s listening. You have to stay in role at all times this weekend.”
His brow lifted. “You’re sure just telling your family the truth wouldn’t be easier?”
“Positive.” For so many reasons. “You don’t know my mother.”
She would be all aflutter trying to make sure McKenzie was really okay with the wedding, would be devastated that McKenzie had been dumped again, especially right before Reva and Jeremy’s wedding. She’d feel obligated to do something, anything, to make McKenzie feel better. Which would make her feel only worse. She didn’t want her mother setting her up on blind dates or throwing men at her all weekend.
And then, there was Reva.
Beautiful Reva who was always the belle of the ball but had always felt guilty if McKenzie hadn’t been included. Reva always included her. Her cousin would have major guilt at her own happiness if McKenzie was suffering from heartbreak.
Everyone would be worried about her, wanting her to move home so they could help nurse her broken heart. They’d never leave her alone.
She’d just have to prove to them that she was happy, didn’t need their interference or pity.
Ryder was that proof.
“But I will know your mother soon.”
Which almost made her as nervous as the thought of the plane taking off.
“Yes, you will.” Swallowing, she dug her fingertips deeper into the seat as she held Ryder’s gaze. “Just make sure you act as if you really are my boyfriend. Please. It’s important my family believes you’re crazy about me.”
If they thought her happy, they wouldn’t worry. Not worrying meant not meddling.
He didn’t look concerned. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”
The air in the plane was so thin. Any moment she expected her knuckles to break through the clenched skin of her fingers.
“Because you’re certifiable for agreeing to this?”
He grinned. “Something like that.”
She was struck again by just how handsome he was. Not that she hadn’t always known, just she’d categorized him in her mind to where she’d never thought of him as more than just that—a really hot guy she worked with, who made her uncomfortable with his overabundance of pheromones, and who hadn’t liked her.
With his going above and beyond this weekend, with how his smile made things better, she’d never be able to relegate him to two-dimensional again.
He should smile more right now. She needed him to make things better.
She forced herself to take a deep breath, then another. “Truly, I appreciate you doing this.”
Even if he’d come only as an excuse to look up an old girlfriend.
“I expect yo
u to return the favor someday.”
“By going to a wedding with you as your pretend girlfriend?” Odds were he’d never need her to do any such thing and they both knew it.
“Something like that.”
“We’ve been cleared for takeoff,” the captain said over the intercom speaker.
“Oh!” McKenzie gasped and grabbed hold of Ryder’s arm. Talking with him, she’d kept that they’d taxied away from the hangar and out onto the airstrip at bay.
They were literally preparing for takeoff.
As in about to leave the ground and zoom through the air as if gravity wasn’t a thing to be concerned about.
McKenzie worried about gravity. A lot.
“You okay?”
“Do I look okay?” she bit out, knowing her fingers were digging into his arm but not able to pry them loose. Something about holding onto him made her feel safer.
“Not particularly.”
She closed her eyes, knowing any moment the plane was going to start moving again. When it did it wasn’t going to slow down for a long, long time.
Five hours. That’s all. Just five hours, then she’d be in Nashville and back on the ground.
Help, her mind screamed. Get her off the plane. Pronto. She couldn’t do this.
She had to. She’d done it before and landed just fine. She’d do it again. For Reva and the rest of her family.
But, oh, how she wanted to get off the plane.
“McKenzie?”
“Mmm?” she managed, wondering just how thick her throat had swelled because getting air in and out was impossible.
Why couldn’t she have just told them all that she couldn’t get off work? She hadn’t really had to go to Reva’s wedding? Her cousin could have gotten a different bridesmaid, could have had her big day without having McKenzie there.
“Open your eyes.”
Her mind registered that Ryder had leaned closer, but she didn’t do as he’d ordered. Ordered because that’s what his words had been, a command.
