His Perfect Woman (Harlequin Superromance) (8 page)

The woman's mouth dropped open in surprise. “
Melissa?
Oh, honey, don't you look wonderful! I didn't even recognize you!”

Bryan glanced from Tilly to her. “You two know each other?”

The nurse crossed the room and pulled her into a hug. “I should say we do!”

“Tilly was my home-care nurse for a while,” she told Bryan, “and she took wonderful care of me.”

“Because you made it so easy,” the older woman said, patting her like a proud parent.

At Bryan's gentle prodding, the three of them moved closer
to Randall. “How's your son?” Melissa asked along the way. “Has he settled down any since we spoke last?” She hated that the sweet woman worried herself sick over a child who didn't appreciate his mother's love.

Tilly shook her head. “I don't think that boy will ever settle down. He's living with his girlfriend, but I see him about every day or so. He comes over quite a bit in the evening and just sits around the house, but I don't mind. I like having him there. It gets too quiet otherwise. Oh, listen to me prattle on. And look at the time!” She bent and picked up the book and chart from the couch. “I'm going to have to run, but first I'll let Meg know you two will be staying for lunch.”

“She won't mind?” Melissa asked, sending a hesitant glance Bryan's way.

“Ha! Meg loves showing off her cooking skills anytime she gets a chance. Right, Randall?”

The old man nodded.

Tilly winked and patted Melissa's arm again. “While I'm in there, I'll see about getting you some lemonade or iced tea, too. Sound good?”

“Sounds wonderful,” Bryan said, rubbing his hands together. “I could use a drink. Thanks, Tilly, we appreciate it. The drive in the sun made me thirsty, and Meg's lemonade is the best.”

The nurse hugged Melissa one last time, told the elder Dr. Booker to behave himself, and then excused herself with a murmur.

Bryan took her elbow in hand. “Granddad, do you remember Melissa York? Starting tomorrow she's my office manager. Brave of her to take it on, huh?”

Only the right side of the old man's mouth curled up. “Good see you 'gain.”

“You, too. You're looking well, Dr. Booker.”

He shook his head. “Too many Doc Bookers-s. I—I'm juss Randall n-now.”

“Randall it is then.”

A large bank of windows dominated one side of the room, the sunlight warming the space. On his perch in front of the windows, Charlie shifted and squawked, apparently tired of being ignored. A sharp whistle split the air, followed by, “Pretty girl, pretty girl.”

“Charlie, h-hush,” Randall ordered firmly.

Melissa laughed. “No, please, don't hush him. That's the best compliment I've gotten all day.”

Randall's eyebrows rose in response before he glanced at Bryan.

“You know me better than that,” Bryan countered, grinning rakishly. He stepped forward and gave the old man a hug, then shook his hand, holding it in both of his. “Melissa and I went to visit a friend in the hospital, and thought we'd drop by to see you.”

“I hope you don't mind, but Bryan has promised me a tour of your house later and I plan to hold him to it. The pictures along the hall are amazing.”

Randall nodded, smiling his lopsided smile. “Good years-s.”

Melissa took the seat Bryan indicated and stared at the men, noting that Bryan looked very much like his grandfather. They shared the same angular features, the same intense green eyes. Randall's once-blond hair had long ago turned white, and the stroke had marred the man's physical appearance, but he cut quite a striking figure all the same. He sat in a wheelchair dressed in green patterned pajamas, a throw over his legs, his bifocal glasses perched on his nose.

“Has Meg treated you to any of her desserts this week?” Bryan asked.

Randall shook his head. “Mean w-woman—won't share.”

“In other words, your sugar must be acting up and Tilly's watching her like a hawk. Don't be too hard on them. You know it's for your own good.”

“Man's-s got to die…s-sometime. M-Meg's desserts good…way.”

Melissa laughed softly, earning Randall's appreciative glance. He gave her his lopsided smile again, the sight causing her heart to constrict painfully. What would Bryan do when he lost the grandfather he loved so much?

“Melissa has agreed to help me come up with some fund-raisers for the clinic, and she had a great idea as we pulled up outside. Melissa?” Bryan's expression urged her to tell the story.

“Oh, um, well, I thought—hoped—we might put a more personal spin on things and remind people of all the years you cared for us.” She tilted her head, trying to judge Randall's response. “And how you could've used the clinic's help yourself. We've all probably needed it at some time and will need it more in the future as Taylorsville grows.”

The old man appeared to give it some thought before he nodded. “M-might work.”

Bryan leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees, his hands clasped as he tried to contain his excitement. “Then maybe you wouldn't mind if we used some of the framed pictures of you for the flyers and promotion? I'm still the new kid in town, but if we focus on the fact this started as
your
dream—”

“Don't m-make old m-man look foolish.”

“Never,” they said in unison.

“Absolutely not,” Bryan added. “We wouldn't do that.”

Melissa stared, struck by the tender, loving expression on Bryan's face, easily seeing how women could fall for him if they were on the receiving end of it. It was a good thing she knew better, otherwise after yesterday she very well could find herself thinking of Bryan as a man instead of a boss. What a disaster that would be.

“Y-you can u-use them.”

“Great! You'll make this clinic a reality yet, Granddad.”

Randall indicated Melissa by lifting his hand. “L-look like your m-mother.”

Melissa had smiled at Bryan's boyish excitement, but just as quickly caught her breath at Randall's words. “Thank you, that's another wonderful compliment.”

“P-pretty woman. B-beautif-ful.”

“Yes, she was,” she confirmed. “I— Bryan told me a bit about the pictures in the hall. I saw the one of you and your infamous candy jar. I'll never forget the horror I felt when the dentist said I had a cavity. I begged my mother not to tell him about your jar so he wouldn't be mad at you and make you stop giving the kids treats when we came to see you.”

A gruff sound left Randall's chest, and it took her a moment to realize it was laughter. Smiling, she glanced at Bryan and found him staring at her, obviously pleased but seemingly aware of how his grandfather's compliment had made her feel.

Once, maybe, she could've been considered pretty. Beautiful was a long shot on a good day, but she hadn't appreciated her appearance then, hadn't thought about how it could alter. Now with her short hair, radiation-tattooed body and no breasts, well, beautiful wasn't even in the realm of possibility.

“You wore p-pigtails.”

She made a show of grimacing and clamping a hand loosely over her face and peeking through her fingers. “Oh, no! Please don't remind me! My mother used to insist every little girl looked cute in pigtails, but I
hated
them.”

Both men laughed as she'd intended.

“S-sad when your m-mama passed. Good w-woman.”

Once again Melissa fought to keep her smile in place.
Couldn't they talk about something else?
She didn't need the constant reminders of what she'd lost. She felt those on a daily basis. “You gave her a lot of comfort in those last days.”

“She made…best apple p-pie in town.”

At least now Randall touched on a happy subject. “Did you know she won first place at the county fair every year she entered? Got to where she had to guard her recipes anytime someone came to the house.” Melissa smiled. “I keep her recipe box hidden in my room because I'm determined to guard her secret ingredient.”

All three of them laughed at the statement, but her laughter and Bryan's seemed strained. Her imagination? A moment passed, the room silent.

Bryan stood. “Tilly's awfully quiet in the kitchen. Makes me think Meg took a rolling pin to her. I'm going to check on her and give her a hand with those drinks.”

Melissa watched Bryan leave, feeling awkward at his sudden abandonment.

“P-poor boy.” Randall lifted his left, stroke-curled hand toward the doorway where Bryan had disappeared. “He still mourns that g-girl.”

What girl? “I'm sure he's just checking on drinks for us.”

“More'n that. Can't b-bear to talk 'bout it. Reminds-s him of h-her. She d-died, too. Canc-cer.” He shook his head roughly, his gaze meeting hers, the slackness on the left side
of his face not diminishing the intense look in his eyes, one that seemed to beg for her understanding. “He was g-going to m-marry her.”

“Bryan was engaged?”

Randall shook his head, his green eyes bright. “They broke up before it h-happened. He w-watched her pass though. Such pain. Now he s-sleeps 'round…t-to forget.” His eyes narrowed, his frustration with his inability to form the words fast enough obvious. “R-right woman make'm better though.” He lifted his hand and pointed a trembling finger at her. “M-make'm love 'gain.”

Melissa tried to calm her panicked thoughts. She scooted to the edge of her seat and fought the urge to get out of there as quickly as possible. “Um…I think you might have gotten the wrong idea about me and your grandson. We're not— I'm just an employee. I mean, we're friends, but we're not a couple or anything.”

“Never b-brought w-woman here.”

He hadn't?
“It's not like that,” she insisted, fighting the images in her head. Images of Bryan holding her, kissing her. Making love to her? But he'd never be able to do that. Even knowing what he knew about her illness, now that she knew he'd loved someone and lost her, it was unthinkable.

“You must not remember what happened to me.” She shook her head and slipped her hands between her thighs and the couch to control their shaking. “I had cancer, too. The same as that girl and my mother, and Bryan's my
boss
.”

“S-so? Many a d-doc married his h-help. My Penny w-was my nurse at f-first.”

That might be so, but there were a million and ten reasons why she couldn't. Why Bryan
couldn't
. “But if Bryan's playboy reputation is based on seeking…
comfort
from all
those women, the
last
person he needs o-or would
want
is someone like me.”

The old man stared at her with Bryan's eyes, measuring, assessing. “Forgive me. Old man's-s wishful thinking. Was j-just glad my grands-son had f-finally brought a g-good girl home.”

An incredulous laugh got caught in her throat. A good girl? Somehow, she didn't quite see herself as the catch Randall imagined. She'd been a pregnant teenager, a college dropout, a cancer patient. Yeah, quite a catch. “I'm not, Randall.”

“He s-sees you that way. Always h-has.”

Really?

“Here's the lemonade,” Bryan called, walking into the room carrying a loaded tray. His attention fastened on her face and his smile faded. “Something wrong?”

“Wrong?” She felt Randall's knowing gaze on her and fought for composure. “No, why do you ask?”

“You're blushing.” Bryan winked at his grandfather and set the tray on the table between them. “I haven't seen a woman blush in ages, have you?”

Randall laughed, his frail body shaking in the wheelchair, his eyes hinting at things Melissa didn't dare consider because if she did—

“S-see what I mean?”

—it would ruin everything.

Five hours later Melissa smiled weakly and waved at Bryan to drive away while he waited in his Mercedes for her to walk to the front door of her house and go in. She needed a moment to recoup from the day. Not only from the slam of emotions after the visit to the hospital, but from Randall's comment and all the weird thoughts that ran through her head as a result.
She'd spent the afternoon second-guessing everything Bryan said and did until she'd been ready to scream from frustration.

Footsteps dragging, she approached the front door and had just made it to the threshold when it was yanked open, startling her.

“Where the blazes have you been?”

H
ER FATHER'S
large frame was in shadow, looming over her. Heart thumping, she blinked in the harsh brightness of the overhead light. “What's wrong?”

“I've been calling everywhere looking for you!”

She glanced at her watch and winced. “I'm sorry. I should've called but didn't think about it.” His words sank in and she frowned. “Why were you trying to find me? Did something happen? I went to visit Ashley earlier and— Is she all right? The
baby?
”

“They're both fine.”

“Oh, thank God. You scared me.”

“I scared you? You left the hospital hours ago. Where have you
been?
”

She frowned at his tone. “Can I come in or do you want to discuss this while we get eaten alive by mosquitoes?”

Her father took several steps back, holding the door open wide enough for her to step through. When she did, she noticed two things at once: her father was so angry and upset he shook, and Ellen had been there. The whole house smelled of the woman's perfume. “Where's your—Ellen?”

“Home. Now answer the question.”

“Bryan drove me to the hosp—”

“You've been with Booker the entire time?”

“Yes! After the hospital we went to visit his grandfather.” Melissa dropped her keys inside her purse. “Why am I getting the third degree?”

Her father ran one of his hands over his uniform's tie and rubbed. “Ashley called this afternoon and said you'd left the hospital upset. When you didn't come home…”

Her eyes widened when her father's face began to heat with a ruddy flush. “You mean you thought Bryan and I were— Dad!”

“They don't call him
Bang 'em Booker
for nothing, Mel.”

“I don't believe you! I suppose one glance might make some women happy to take whatever he's willing to give, but I'm not.
How
could you think spending one afternoon with Bryan would make me forget about everything I've been through and fall into bed with him?”

“Because it happened before!”

Her mouth dropped open in shock. He actually thought—

“Don't look at me like that. What on God's green earth were you
thinking
helping to deliver Joe's baby? You shouldn't have been there, Mel. Not only because of the gossip, but why would you put yourself through that?”

She stalked across the living room, resisting the urge to run to her room and slam the door the way she had as a child. Those days were gone. That innocence, gone. “One, I didn't have much choice since it was an emergency delivery and Bryan needed help! Two, for whatever reason, Ashley wants to be my friend—
is
my friend—and so is Joe even though I can't believe he's forgiven me. And three, I can't believe you just compared me to the sixteen-year-old child I used to be! I didn't handle Mom's death well, but when will you forgive me one little mistake?”

“It wasn't little.”

“Nor was it bad! If I hadn't slept with Joe I wouldn't have
had Josie and despite her…her
dying,
I'm not sorry I had my baby the brief time she lived!”

“Neither am I!” Her father caught her arm. “Mel, I have every right to be worried. Any decent father
would
be worried if his daughter was out with that reprobate.”

“We were with Bryan's
grandfather
and his cook discussing the fund-raiser. How many chaperones do you think a mutilated woman needs?”

“You're not—” He closed his eyes and ran his hands over his face, into his hair. “Mel…sweetheart, I'm sorry. I guess I overreacted.”

Her anger dissolved, but without it she felt deflated, the hurt of his words cutting deep. “No kidding. But why?”

Jaw locked, her dad put his hands on his hips and stared down at her. “Ellen and I…we had a fight and I guess I—”

“Ah,” she drawled, “that answers a lot.” She shook her head and headed toward her bedroom, too tired to handle any Ellen stories now. How dare he accuse her? “I should've known. Sorry, Dad, you're on your own there.”

“Mel, wait.”

Something in his voice made her pause. When she looked at him she saw that he stood with one hand braced on the mantel lining the fireplace, his broad shoulders slumped.

“Maybe we could have lunch again? The three of us?”

“Dad, no. You can't expect me to sit through another meal without making it clear I don't think you should be getting married. Do us both a favor and don't put either of us through it.” She was careful to keep her voice soft, steady. Hoping to coax him to reason. “Why not give this more time? Date her, have
fun,
but take your time before you—”

“I
love
her—I love
you!
Don't put me in the middle and make me choose!”

Would there be a choice? “You want me to care for her, right? Well, caring takes time. Give me a year,” she begged. “Give me
six months!
At least then when you marry, it won't make me feel like you're rushing or trying to prove something!”

He shook his head, adamant. “I've made up my mind. And I've waited long enough. Too long.”

“Says who? Is Ellen pushing you? If you love her now, you'll love her—”

His pager going off interrupted her, and Melissa wanted to scream. Couldn't they have a conversation without interruptions? “Let me guess—Ellen?”

“It's work,” he said after a single glance down. “I've got to go, but we'll finish our conversation in the morning.”

“I can't, remember? Tomorrow's the day I start my new job.”

Her dad had crossed to the door, but stopped in his tracks when her words registered. “Don't do it.”

“Why don't you like Bryan? Because he's all grown-up and friends with Ellen?” She couldn't help her snide tone.

“It's not that I don't like him.”

She crossed her arms over her front. “Could've fooled me.”

“I don't approve of his shenanigans,” her dad said as if that excused his anger. “Call him, Mel. Tell him you've changed your mind.”

“I will if you will,” she countered, desperate, regretting the words as soon as they left her mouth. She wanted the job with Bryan. Not because she found him attractive, but because she needed to get out of this house. Needed distance. A life.
But if quitting would end or postpone things with her dad and Ellen?

Then she'd do it. All he had to do was say the word.

Looking over his shoulder, her dad gave her a piercing look. Okay, so maybe she did sound like a child, tossing out ultimatums, but she was desperate to keep him from making a mistake.

He yanked the door open. “I've warned you against Booker, Mel. You might think no one would want a woman like you, but you're wrong. He'll break your heart and move on to the next conquest. It's what men like him do.”

“Dad, of the two of us, I'm not the one going to get my heart broken. I know exactly who Bryan is. It's Ellen I don't trust.” She stepped closer. “You're a widower, in good health but with a dangerous job. You've got a house—”

“She's not after my pension! Mel, the house is yours and she knows that. If anything, Ellen's taking me in.”

“You don't have to go anywhere!”

“And you're getting off track. Booker will break you—”

“Ellen will break
you!
”

He shook his head. “She's made me whole again. You just can't see it. Mel, I'm marrying Ellen. You're going to have to deal with it, and the sooner you do, the better. Love doesn't break you, it heals. You'd know that if you'd ever experienced it.”

 

I
GNORING
E
LLEN'S DARKENED
windows and car parked crookedly in her short driveway as if she hadn't been paying attention when she'd pulled in, Hal glared at the lights shining in the second-floor living area above Booker's practice.

Lights flashing, he sped past the homes on the edge of town and kept going, down Route 5 until it crossed Miller's Run. Turning left, he drove into one of the more isolated areas and slowed, squinting to see a road sign that might or might not be standing, depending on the teenagers' latest scavenger
hunt. He found it, and three minutes later spotted the flash of his officers' lights through the trees. He pulled in behind them, and a shadow detached itself from the trailer's doorway.

“Hey, Chief, sorry to bother you, but she insisted she only wanted to talk to you.”

“How is the old bird?”

Nathan shook his head. “Scared to death. Who wouldn't be after some punk breaks in and terrorizes her?”

Hal jogged up the uneven path to the wheelchair ramp and stepped inside the open doorway. The gray-haired old woman sat on the couch with her face buried in the bag of frozen peas in her hand. A female EMT smoothed the old woman's hair back to check the cut on her temple.

Hal crouched down in front of her. “Miss Molly, you okay?”

The sound of his voice brought the eighty-eight-year-old woman's head up, and he grimaced at the extent of the damage. One side of her face was already blue, her eye swollen shut, her mouth and nose bloodied. Hal silently cursed and vowed to find whomever had done this to a defenseless old woman.

Fresh tears appeared in her eyes, but Miss Molly nodded. “I'm fine.” Her shaking hand caught the EMT's and gently patted. “This young darling is taking good care of me.” The EMT smiled and kept working.

Hal shifted onto one knee, leaning his elbow on the other for balance. “Did you see who did it? Did you know him?”

Miss Molly winced when a cloth was pressed and held on her cut, but nodded. “He knocked on the door pretty as you please. The bulb had burned out on the porch so I couldn't see him too good, but he said he'd run out of gas and needed to use the phone.”

“You let him in?”

The woman gave him a sour look. “I'm old, but I'm not a fool.”

Grinning, Hal nodded his agreement. “I'd say not. So what happened then?”

“I told him to tell me the number and I'd call someone to come bring him gas.”

“Smart girl. Then what?”

“He left. Least I thought he did. I watched him till I couldn't see him no more. Must've dozed off, but a little while later I woke up when I heard a crash. Next thing I knew he was in the house with me.”

“Was he tall? Short? Dark hair or light?”

Now the woman frowned. “He broke my lamp first thing, but he had dark hair, short, but straggly. He was skinny, taller than me but I don't know how much.”

Considering the woman was barely five feet, that could mean anything. “What then?”

“After he broke my lamp—my sister made that lamp,” she said, growing agitated. “Sent it all the way from Washington because she knew it was my favorite color.”

“Maybe she'll make you another one,” Hal soothed. “Tell me what happened after he broke your lamp.”

“He kept shoutin' something, but—” she ducked her head “—I couldn't make it out 'cause I was cryin' and scared.”

“Don't feel bad about that, Miss Molly. Anyone would've done the same in your shoes.”

“Maybe so.” She nodded weakly. “But when I didn't answer, he slapped me and knocked me down. I hit the coffee table and that's all I remember until I woke up and called for help.”

Hal transferred his attention to the EMT. “Any other signs of abuse?”

“Just her face and head that I can see. She'll need X-rays to check for fractures.”

“Take good care of her and once you get her to the hospital, call dispatch and give me an update.”

The EMT nodded. “No problem. Miss Molly, are you ready for that ride?”

Hal got out of the way of the gurney and looked around at the home's interior. Someone had turned on the kitchen light and from the looks of things, the place had been trashed.

One of his deputies stood in the impossibly tiny hall outside the bathroom and Hal made his way there, keeping a careful eye on where he stepped. Tubes and bottles littered the ripped linoleum floor.

“Our friend wasn't only after her cash and jewelry,” the deputy said. “She said she had some Vicodin and Darvocet, but they're gone.”

“Like the others,” he muttered. “Any prints?”

Nathan left the bedroom farther down and joined them. “None so far.”

“Keep checking. Make sure you do it all by the book, too. I want everything we can get to put this punk away.”

An hour later Hal tiredly made his way back through town. When he approached Ellen's house he slowed, wondering if he should pull in and continue the conversation he and Ellen had begun earlier. The road was deserted, the houses dark when he turned left and drove down the street bordering Ellen's. Booker's sports car was parked in back. Alone.

He rolled to a stop and stared up at the house a long moment before his attention was drawn to movement taking place at Ellen's. A light switched on in the kitchen; the curtain moved. She'd heard him. Hal pulled in beside Booker's car and shoved the cruiser into Park. Moments later Ellen's arms
welcomed him and he was well aware of the tension and stress draining from him the moment he inhaled her familiar scent.

“Are you okay? I saw Bryan when he came home a while ago, and he told me where they were today.”

A heavy sigh left his chest. “She said they were working on some fund-raiser.”

Ellen's head nodded against his chest. “The clinic. It's very important to Bryan because it's his grandfather's dream.”

He tensed. “You know an awful lot about Booker's dreams.”

“Hal,
stop.
We cleared that up a while ago and don't you go down that road again,” she said, raising her head from his chest. Ellen stared up at him, and without her glasses on she squinted to see clearly. “Understood?”