Fixed up in February (Spring River Valley Book 2) (8 page)

“It’s not that. I’m just bored, lying here doing nothing.”

“So get out and do something. Stop acting like an old man. Haven’t you ever had sore muscles before?”

“Sure, but today I feel like a truck hit me.”

“I thought it was a Buick.”

“Ha, ha. Bring me a slice, would you?”

“Can’t. After I eat, I’ve got to get back to the office. I’ve got to have this presentation ready for the Expo. I just came home to grab a clean shirt for the meeting tonight.”

“They’re working you to death, dude.”

Jared laughed as he slipped on his coat. “But the overtime is sweet, and if I nail this campaign, I get an office.”

“For all these hours, they should give you the penthouse suite.”

“That’s next on my list.” Jared swung the door open, and Max almost fell off the couch. Audrey stood in the narrow hallway outside the apartment, her arms wrapped around an overstuffed paper bag. She looked amazing with her face framed by her shiny dark hair, a fluffy cream-colored scarf bundled at her throat, and bright red mittens to match her coat. Jared’s jaw dropped. “Hey, pretty lady. Is that for me?”

She smile
d
at Jared, but before she could get a word out, Max had hauled his ailing carcass off the couch. He stifled the groan of pain and pasted a smile over his instinctive grimace as he nudged his roommate out of the way. “That’s for me. It’s my soup delivery.”

“Hi, I’m Audrey. You must be Jared,” she said,
shifting
the bag to one hand. She offered her mittened fingers to Jared who pulled his chivalrous knight act and bowed over her hand.

“Charmed, milady. I am Jared, Max’s keeper.”

“Oh, good. I was hoping there was someone to look after him. You can feed him his soup and massage his back for him.”

Jared blanched, and Max didn’t know whether to laugh or whimper. Was she serious about the back massage?

“I’m late for work, sorry. Massages are not my department.” Jared sidled past Audrey and out the door, but he stopped in the hallway to shoot Max a thumbs-up behind her back before he disappeared.

“Well, he cleared out fast. Some keeper.”

“He almost never gives me massages,” Max said then rolled his eyes. How lame had that sounded?

“Too bad. They’re not really my department either.” She stepped over the threshold and held out the bag. “Doctor’s orders. Chicken soup with oyster crackers from Taverna Fiora. They make the best.”

Max took the bag. “Wow. I thought you were sending someone to drop it off.”

“I couldn’t find an understudy on short notice, so you get the real deal.”

Oh. Zing.
He let that one go because he probably deserved it. “Then I guess it’s my lucky day.” He turned and headed toward the kitchen, groaning a little with each step.

“Wow. You are in bad shape.”

“Your ankle, my back. We make a great pair.”

“Actually, my ankle’s all better. But you’re in terrible shape. Did you take the aspirin like I told you?”

“Yes, Nurse. And there’s the heating pad.” He pointed to the couch. He should have been at his studio working on stock photos, but after an hour this morning, he’d had to give up and come home. He turned to find her sloughing off her coat and tossing her scarf and gloves onto a nearby chair. She wore tight jeans and a fitted T-shirt that hugged her curves expertly. A warmth spread through his lower half that had nothing to do with the heating pad.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I need to see those bruises now.”

He hid his grin and managed to look shocked. “Right now? Before soup?”

“Yes. I’m a little concerned by your posture. You could have an injury the X-rays missed. Adrenaline goes a long way toward masking pain, so something that didn’t seem very serious yesterday could be a problem today.”

She almost had him worried, except, truth be told, he’d begun to feel a lot better the moment she
’d
arrived. “Sure. Should I lie down?”

“No. Come over here.” She led him to the kitchen where the light was brighter. “Lift up your shirt.”

Life was good. He obeyed as she set the bag on the counter. A second later, her cool hands were on him, pressing here, tapping there. He was in heaven until she hit a spot in the middle of his lower back that made him see stars.

“Ow!”

“Hmm, just as I suspected.”

“What? Is it serious?”

“No. You’ll be fine, but you should really have a stronger anti-inflammatory and stay off your feet for a day or so. I can call the resident and have him write you a prescription for something that will help with the swelling there.”

There was swelling in other places he needed help with even more, but he didn’t dare say it. “Soup now?”

“Sure.” She watched him skeptically as he emptied the bag and set two bowls on the small kitchen table. Fortunately, Jared was a bit of a neat freak, so the place was clean. She wouldn’t think he was a slob as well as an axe murderer. “You’re moving a little better.”

He ladled the aromatic soup into the bowls and brought them to the table. “Once I’m up and around the kinks shake out a little.” What had she said about adrenalin masking pain? He was so hyped right now, he probably wouldn’t have noticed if his leg was broken. He eased himself into a chair and stole a glance at her lips, which formed a perfect O as she blew on a spoonful of soup. The pain in his back seemed to melt away. He could watch her all day.

“You’re staring.”

But damn, she always noticed. “I was just thinking how this constitutes an exception to your rule about no exceptions to your rule about no house calls. I guess I’m a pretty lucky guy.”

She shrugged. “It’s a community service. The scuttlebutt around the hospital is you were quite heroic yesterday. You pushed a couple of people out of the way of the car and no one was seriously hurt. I decided the hero of the day deserves a little bit of special treatment.”

So she thought he was a hero. Yep, pain all gone. He could have leapt tall buildings in a single bound. “It was nothing.”

“Quinn was pretty impressed. He was talking about recruiting you to the ambulance corp.”

“Quinn—oh, the EMT. Was he there? I don’t think I saw him.” His elation dimmed by a degree. She seemed pretty tight with the ambulance guy.

“No, he heard about it. In fact he was talking you up. He said maybe I should give you a second chance at a date.”

“Oh.” So she told ambulance guy about the rest of their disaster? She watched him expectantly. Since she’d brought it up, was she expecting him to ask for another date after she’d shot him down time and time again?

“I told him I’d think about it.”

Max nodded and concentrated on his soup. Let her squirm a little. He didn’t need Quinn the EMT going to bat for him. “Good soup. Thanks.”

“Sure.” She sipped and watched him, sipped and watched him. He played it cool. “Well, since you’re up and about and the prognosis is good, I guess I’ll be going.” Obviously too cool.

“So soon?”

“I’m done with my soup.” She picked up her bowl and carried
it
to the sink. Max watched the sway of her hips and decided he’d been enough of a jerk. Time to rein this back to where he wanted it to go. He rose and blocked her path as she turned away from the sink.

“So you’ll consider that second date, huh?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Those pretty eyes flashed. Her blue T-shirt gave them an aqua cast that intrigued him. He wanted to see the color up close, dive in and explore.

He stepped closer. “When do you think we could attempt this date, if you’re considering it?”

“Maybe when your back is in better shape.”

“Are you suggesting the date might be physically demanding?”

“Are you worried it might be?”

“Not at all.” He was so close now, just inches away. His fingers found their way to her hip, and with the gentlest pressure, he eased her one more step closer. “Physically demanding is my specialty.” He completed his move with the finesse of James Bond, swooping in for a kiss the absolute second she opened her mouth to respond to him.

The contact electrified him. She tasted warm and salty with a hint of berry flavor from her lipstick. Her tongue met his as though it had been expecting the visit, and somewhere from the back of her throat came a small moan of pleasure that arrowed right to his groin. The blood that had been rushing to the swollen spot in the middle of his back changed course immediately, and he snaked a hand around to the center of her back to pull her into him. The slight resistance she offered lasted only a second, then she was in his arms and he was flying high, no pain killers needed.

The harsh, metallic chime of the doorbell cut through the moment, and she broke away from him like a teenager caught necking by her parents. “You have company,” she said, her voice whispery and breathless.

“Let me get my axe.” He turned and stalked through the living room, determined that whoever had interrupted the moment he’d been fantasizing about all week would pay in some decidedly unpleasant way. “This better be good,” he said
,
not caring who was on the other side of the door when he flung it open.

Chad Marchand stood there, notebook in hand. “Hey, I hope I didn’t come at a bad time.”

Max swung around to look for Audrey. She was slipping her coat
on
. “Uh…hey, Chad. Is this about the photos?”

“No, no. The photos are great. The story on Mr. Dochanti ran this morning, didn’t you see it?”

“I…I’ve been resting actually. My back is a bit sore.”

Chad eyed Audrey. “I’m not interrupting, am I? I did call, but there was no answer on your cell, so I thought I’d just drop by. I’d like to interview you for a follow-up piece.”

“A follow-up?”

“Yeah. First of all, I should be thanking you for what you did. You saved my…well, I want to say life, but maybe that’s too dramatic. You saved me from getting badly hurt. I appreciate that.”

Audrey stepped up behind Max. “He’s a hero,” she said brightly. The scent of her reminded Max he could still taste her. Every part of his body throbbed with longing for what Chad had interrupted.

“I agree,” the reporter said. “And so does my editor, so I’d love to do a human interest piece about you. It would be short, a sidebar, but there would be a teaser on page one—‘
Local hero snaps photos of dangling car, moments before it nearly runs him down
.’ How does that grab you?”

He would have preferred Audrey to grab him, but this would have to do. The publicity certainly couldn’t hurt his business. “Cool.”

“Great, I just have a couple of questions to ask you. Do you mind? I can get it into tomorrow’s edition.”

Max stepped back. “Sure, come on in.”

“I was just leaving. Max, take care of yourself.” Audrey zipped up her coat and wrapped her scarf around her neck.

“Is this your girlfriend? I’m Chad, by the way.” He offered her his hand.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Audrey, his…nurse. I think I’ve met your father; isn’t he the CPA?”

“Yeah, that’s the family business. I’m the black sheep who wanted to be a writer instead of an accountant.”

“Ah, well, I’ll get out of your way. I just stopped by to see how Max was feeling.”

“So you make house calls?”

“No,” Max took the words out of her mouth. “Well, so she claims. This looked suspiciously like a house call to me, Nurse Audrey.”

She glared but kept her polite smile in place. “Seeing as you’re feeling better, I’ll be on my way. Chad, take care.”

“Yeah, nice to meet you.”

Audrey left, and Max let his shoulders droop. “What do you want to know?” he asked Chad.

“What’s really going on between you and the hot nurse?”

Max rolled his eyes as he led Chad to the kitchen. “Nothing, thanks to some nosy reporter.”

“Oh, man. I’m sorry. You should have said something.”

“Oh, that would have just made it worse. She’s a little skittish, and she mostly thinks I’m a wiseass who’s just fooling around.”

Chad glanced at the door. “If you want to impress the girl, I have a couple of ideas.”

“Like what?”

“Sit down. Give me my interview, and I’ll give you a surefire plan to get her to take a second a look.”

* * * *

Audrey took her time walking to her car and let the cold air swirl around her. She was shaking, and it had nothing to do with the February chill.

Max’s kiss had sent her senses into overdrive. Her pulse had tripled, her knees had gone weak, and her palms were sweaty. If she didn’t know better, she’d have diagnosed herself with a sudden, severe case of the flu.

Only seconds before he’d rocked her world, he’d been playing dumb just to irritate her. She’d thought for sure her confession about Quinn convincing her to agree to a second date would have prompted him to ask her out, properly this time and not for a ride to the hardware store or some other silly errand. Instead he’d ignored her hint and acted like the damn chicken soup was all he cared about. If she hadn’t eaten all of hers, she’d have spilled it on him.