The guys knew that for the past eleven years, ever since his stroke, his dad had been living with him. They knew Doug helped his dad with the major things like finances and helping manage his healthcare, but they didn’t realize the day-to-day details that kept Dooley tied down.
Doug Senior didn’t need constant care, but he had trouble transferring safely in and out of chairs and bed because of the paralysis on his right side. Things like cooking and bathing were hard for him on his own too. Three days was just too long for him to be alone.
Dooley’s sisters helped as they could, but they were both married with kids and worked. The stroke had happened while they were both in college and he’d taken over caring for their dad so they could both finish their degrees.
They’d fallen in love and he’d pushed them to live their lives, get married, have kids and everything. They and their husbands took turns helping out when Dooley couldn’t be there, but part of the reason his shift as a paramedic was perfect was he worked twelve-hour shifts overnight. Dooley helped his dad get ready for bed before he left for work, then his sisters and their husbands came over later and hung out and eventually got Senior into bed. Then he slept all night while Dooley worked. It was during the day that he needed the help with moving around, eating and exercising.
“You can go,” Kevin said, catching his eye again. “Conner can cover at work and everything else is a piece of cake.”
Dooley frowned at him. Kevin helped him out when his sisters couldn’t and he enjoyed hanging out with Dooley’s dad. Senior’s personality had also changed with the stroke and he was far more mellow now than he ever had been before. Being dependent on others for basic activities of daily life had a way of humbling a man.
“It’s not important,” Dooley insisted.
“You don’t know unless you go,” Kevin insisted right back. He pulled his phone from his pocket and slid the keyboard out. “In fact…” He typed something in quickly.
Dooley knew who he’d texted.
“Yep, everything’s fine,” Kevin said a moment later. He looked up. “Everyone thinks you should go.”
His dad was surprisingly good at texting with just his left hand. The stroke had affected his right side and he had a hard time talking, but he understood everything and could communicate by writing, typing and texting.
The brain was an amazing thing.
“What are you doing?” Sam asked, watching Kevin and Dooley.
“Making sure Dooley doesn’t have any reason not to get on that plane,” Kevin said with a shrug. He pocketed his phone and took a drink of his soda.
“So you’re going?” Sam asked.
Dooley sighed. His dad felt guilty and was constantly pushing him to go out more, meet more people, women in particular, and get serious with one. He hated that Dooley had put his life on hold for him.
But there wasn’t any way around it. He would not put his father in a nursing home. He was perfectly capable of taking care of him and they got along great. His dad was cool. It was more like having a friend as a roommate than living with his dad.
It was just a lot to ask a woman to take on. Any woman who wanted to be with Dooley long term would be with his dad long term too. They came as a set. It wasn’t even the same as hooking up with someone who already had a kid. Kids grew up, became less dependent, moved out eventually. That wasn’t going to happen with his dad. He’d been young to have a stroke at age fifty-one and he was in great health in spite of the stroke. He was going to be around for a long time and Dooley was thankful for that.
He didn’t have a wife and kids, but he wasn’t lonely. He had a full, rewarding life, lots of friends, a great family with adorable nieces, and a job he loved.
He wasn’t complaining.
“He’s going,” Kevin said firmly. “If I have to physically put him on the plane myself.”
Kevin agreed with his dad that Dooley needed more in his life.
Kevin could physically put him on the plane too. He was an ex-football player—and a damned good one—who was in a lot better shape than Dooley had ever been. Plus he was determined. For Dooley’s own good.
He looked at his friend, who raised a single eyebrow, as if daring him to say no.
He was being forced to go on vacation with a gorgeous woman he’d been thinking about for four weeks. He wasn’t going to argue too hard.
“I guess I’m going.”
If he remembered correctly, Julia Roberts had had a really good time in that movie.
Morgan dialed her sister’s number as she drove away from the bar…and Doug Miller.
God, she’d just invited a guy wearing a T-shirt that read
Santa’s jolly because he knows where all the bad girls live
to Chicago for the biggest professional meeting of her life.
Maybe not the best decision she’d ever made.
But dammit, she knew what he could do to a tux and it was too late for Plan B. Even if she had a Plan B.
In spite of the T-shirt, the beer mug and the obvious familiarity he had with the run-down bar and its patrons, she did hope he showed at the airport.
She was certainly still attracted to him. It seemed their chemistry didn’t care if he was wearing Armani or denim. Out of the tux and away from the casino night fundraiser for the hospital’s cancer wing, he’d looked like he’d be more at home on a California beach with a surf board in hand, but she’d still wanted to kiss him the moment she saw him.
He stood at just about six feet and had a slim, muscular-but-lanky build. His hair was a sandy blond that seemed perpetually wind ruffled and she had yet to see him clean-shaven. Instead he had that popular scruffy look going. His eyes were a deep blue and he carried himself with a lazy ease. He didn’t walk, he sauntered. He didn’t smile, his mouth slowly stretched into a grin. He seemed to think just a second longer than everyone else before replying to something someone said. He exuded laid back.
Which was a draw she couldn’t deny. Most of the men in her world were determined, driven, goal-oriented, focused.
Doug Miller seemed to be a take-it-as-it-comes kind of guy.
She liked that.
“I found him,” she said when her sister finally answered her phone.
“You’re kidding,” Maddie said. “How?”
“It wasn’t hard.” Morgan rolled her eyes. “He gave me the name of the hospital where he worked. Just not
his
real name.”
“I can’t believe you think this is a good idea,” Maddie said. “So what if the background check turns out great? You’re still taking a virtual stranger to Chicago with you.”
“Well, I didn’t tell him this but when I went to the CEO’s office at the hospital I didn’t just get the guy’s real name. I got a character reference. He’s a goof-off but he’s a good guy. He’s a paramedic. Been at the hospital for years with the same crew. They’re the top crew in the city. They’ve done some amazing things. I mean you’ve got to know he’s a good guy if he uses the CEO’s name to get a girl into bed and the CEO is only mildly irritated by it.”
Maddie sighed. “Okay, what’s the plan?”
“He’s supposed to meet me at the airport on Thursday.”
“He didn’t think it was strange at all?”
“It doesn’t matter if he thinks it’s strange. As long as he shows up and plays the part.”
“You’ll have to tell me all about it. Provided he doesn’t rob you or murder you, of course,” Maddie mumbled.
Morgan laughed. “I’ll talk to you later.”
She disconnected and took a deep breath. It might be stupid—okay, it was a little stupid—but she wasn’t worried about being robbed or murdered. She was concerned about having the willpower to ever get out of bed once she had him in a hotel suite but other than that she was only taking him along to impress Jonathan Britton.
She frowned as she turned her car in the direction of her townhouse. Jonathan Britton. She’d worked for Britton Hotels for almost three years now but she’d never met the man himself until two weeks ago.
Her degree and background in hotel and restaurant management had gotten her the job with Britton’s largest hotel in the Midwest—the Britton Towers in downtown Omaha, Nebraska—just as the glamorous structure had taken over a full square city block three years before. Under her management, the hotel had become
the
place to stay in the city for businessmen, politicians and celebrities alike. For one, she worked hand in hand with a city intent on bringing bigger and better entertainment and business to the area. The Omaha Britton Towers was the place to put anyone who needed to be pampered, catered to and buttered up. She was one of the Mayor’s favorite people.
Yep, that summarized her whole job—making people happy so they’d say yes to things—and she was good at it.
She’d easily made the short list of potential managers of the new resort Britton was building in California. It was supposed to be the biggest and best yet. Which was saying something. Jonathan Britton had more money and took bigger risks than anyone in the business. It was why he had the absolute best resorts in the world and why he’d had some of the biggest flops.
Two weeks ago Jonathan had shown up in the lobby of her hotel and personally invited her to submit an idea for the grand west coast resort. They hadn’t started building yet and he was looking for something different. He’d invited ten of his best managers to submit proposals.
Now it was down to two of them.
Her and Todd Becker.
Morgan pulled into her garage and stopped the car, lost in thought.
She hadn’t seen Todd in a few months now. He managed the Minneapolis Britton Tower and they’d first met at a Britton management training. It was a three-day training requiring a two-night stay in Chicago—Britton’s base of operations. She’d spent those two nights in Todd’s bed having the best sex of her life.
The best sex of her life until she’d met Doug Miller.
Which was bizarre.
She let herself into her townhouse, locking the door and toeing off her shoes at the same time. Her heels landed near the coat tree and she tossed her purse and keys onto the small table near the door.
Then she padded barefoot to the kitchen. She needed tea. Or something.
“Tell me again why you have to take
this
guy?”
Morgan sighed as her sister let herself in through the patio’s sliding glass door.
There were advantages to living in the townhouse next to her only sibling. And some disadvantages.
She would have told her younger sister to get out…but she did want to talk about it. “Okay, give me five minutes.” She headed for her bedroom. This conversation called for cut off sweatpants and a T-shirt with no bra instead of a four-hundred-dollar suit and heels.
When she made it back to the kitchen, Maddie handed her a glass filled with Kahlua and cream.
Ah, yes, the magic elixir.
Maddie wasn’t, unfortunately, the first to discover Kahlua had a way of making Morgan talk.
Still she took a drink. She loved it. Heaven surely served Kahlua and cream.
They took seats on opposite ends of Morgan’s oversized couch and settled into the soft cushions.
“Now tell me why you need this guy to go along,” Maddie ordered. “Why can’t you take Landon? He’d go. Or Nate. He’d get a huge kick out of this.”
“I don’t want to sleep with Landon or Nate,” Morgan said of two of her sister’s boyfriend’s best friends.
“It’s
required
that you bring someone you want to sleep with?” Maddie asked. “No way.”
“No. But I have to
be with
someone I want to sleep with. Who I
will
sleep with.”
Maddie didn’t know this whole story. No one did. Until now there had been no reason to tell even the woman she told everything.
“This is a resort management job, right?” Maddie asked. “Or am I missing something?”
“It’s not the job that’s the direct problem. Todd’s going to be there.”
“Todd?” Maddie frowned. “Isn’t he the guy from Minneapolis you hit it off with?”
“Right.” But there had always been something she hadn’t quite trusted. Or been comfortable with. Or something.
“So?”
“Okay, but you have to listen to the
whole
story before you tell me I’m crazy.”
Maddie took a swig of her drink then drew a cross over her heart. “Promise.”
“No laughing. Or eye rolling.”
“Um…I’ll try.”
Morgan drank once more then set her glass on the coffee table and tucked her feet up underneath her. “Here goes. I’ve never been swept off my feet, ever. But he did it. In one night. He was charming, polished, classy, and amazing in bed.”
She left out the part about not being completely comfortable with him because she couldn’t explain it to herself. He did all the right things. He was the type of guy she wanted. He was driven, had goals, wore a tie to work every day. It sounded like a dumb qualification, but that was the guy she wanted. White collar. Steady, stable, financially secure.
“Sounds fantastic,” Maddie said. “Not seeing a problem at all.”
“I know. It wasn’t a problem. At all. At first. I mean I’ve
never
had orgasms like I did with Todd. Plus, he had the whole romantic thing down. He could give seminars. There were roses and chocolate-covered strawberries, bubble baths and long, slow lovemaking.”
Maddie sighed happily. “No. Problem. At. All.”
Morgan grinned at her sister. “We parted on excellent terms and kept in touch via e-mail and occasional phone calls. Then the next corporate meeting six months later was a repeat of the first. Romance, dancing, expensive dinners and incredible lovemaking.” She paused. “Then six months later the same.”
“Still no problem.”
“Well…” She took a deep breath. “I thought it was all great. I was excited to think there might even be a future.”
“And he’ll be in Chicago?” Maddie clarified. “What am I missing?”
“Todd has…a…power over me,” Morgan said reluctantly. “I don’t understand it.”
“A power? How? Because he’s a great lover?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “But it’s more like he’ll…use it, I guess.”
“Use it?”
“I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know if it’s because he found this spot on my neck or just the right dirty words or just the right mixture of Kahlua and cream. Or worse, it might just be him. Something about him. But all he has to do is touch me and I’ll go along with anything.”