Her beeper buzzed, and she glanced at it. The emergency room was paging her, which meant she needed to run. “Send me the email and we’ll set up a time for me to interview you,” she told them. “I’ve got to take this.”
“Go save more lives,” Francis said, waving her away with a twinkle in his eyes, making her kind of glad that she’d agreed to let him write about her.
Chapter 8
Holly had posted her collaboration with Take a Chance that morning, and as she waited in line to leave the staff parking garage at the hospital, she jumped online to check her views. Her heart skipped. Already double the amount of views she’d ever had. She let out a little squeal of excitement. When someone tapped their horn behind her, she realized the rest of the line had already moved forward. She drove up to the guard window. The guard recognized her with a friendly wave, and the arm was lifted.
The evening had descended gloomily while she had been in the hospital. The snowstorm alternated between slushy rain and powdery snow, making the roads a complete mess. Even driving in these conditions couldn’t tamp down her excitement to meet with Megan and Donovan about coming on the show. It probably wasn’t wise to put all of her eggs in this one basket—she needed to produce a show by Friday to stay on her regular schedule and keep her sponsors happy—but Megan seemed pretty confident Donovan would agree to this scheme, especially once he’d met Holly.
Somehow, Jack had convinced her during lunch that she shouldn’t go alone to meet someone she’d only corresponded with a few times on the Internet, so she swung by his house to pick him up on the way to the restaurant. Her heater finally warmed the car to a comfortable level as she arrived at Jack’s. She sent him a quick text to let him know she was outside. Only a moment later, he came out, wearing his long wool coat, gloves, and a black beanie.
“You know I don’t need a man to protect me,” she said as he got into the car, making the space feel even smaller. Jack usually drove his SUV whenever they went anywhere together, and she was reminded why when his knees hit the dash of her car.
He only grunted in response and kept typing an email on his work phone. They’d already gone over this argument earlier, and she’d already given in to the several good points he’d made, so she dropped it. If she was being honest, she was happy for the company. And it made her feel good to know someone cared about her.
“Everything okay?” she asked once he’d sent the email and put his phone into his pocket with a scowl.
“Everyone there is incompetent.”
“So, the usual?” she teased.
At this, his scowl softened a tiny bit. “They got a little girl into the emergency room this morning complaining her leg hurt after falling off the slide. The on-call doc took X-rays, said it wasn’t broken, and sent her home. They sent me the X-rays to confirm, and it is in fact fractured.”
“So they’re going to contact her and recommend she see a specialist.”
“Yep. I wish they’d stop diagnosing without running it past me or one of my staff first.” It was a common complaint he had, and she couldn’t blame him. They were all a little territorial about their specialties and the knowledge they had.
Holly turned onto the street of the sandwich shop. Without warning, her car tires slid across black ice, careening into a wide circle and across the center traffic line. Holly tightened her fingers on the steering wheel, fighting for control, even as her heart hammered through her throat, strangling out her attempts at breathing. The car thudded to a stop at the curb, throwing her body against the seat belt as they faced oncoming traffic.
The cars swerved around them quickly, and after a moment, they were left alone on the street. A sheet of sweat coated her skin despite the coolness of the stopped car, and her vision, which had receded to mere pinpricks, started to come back.
Jack’s hand came over hers on the steering wheel. She peered over at him and saw he wasn’t faring much better than she was—his lips were white, his jaw flexed, and his pulse raced at the base of his neck. “We’re okay,” he said, as if to convince both her and himself.
Holly rested her head on the steering wheel for a moment. She needed to move. Cars were coming and gently steering around them, but her hands trembled too much to drive. Jack’s own shaking hand still held hers. “We’re quite a pair,” she said, trying to joke herself out of the lingering fear.
“Why do we live here again?” Jack tried to smile, but it was a failed attempt. “Can you drive, or do you need me to take over?”
Of the two of them, Jack had more of a right to be nervous than her. He’d been in the accident with Dallon; she’d only heard about it later. Seen the effects.
“I’m good.” She took a few bracing breaths, then turned her car around and into the parking lot of the sandwich shop, thankfully only a few hundred feet from where they’d hit the curb.
“Not too late to cancel,” Jack said.
Her shoulder and chest ached from the seat belt, not so much that she worried about it, but enough to not let her forget what had just happened. Holly turned off the car. “I need a break from driving.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“So let’s go meet Megan. Who knows? Maybe this will change our lives.”
He leveled a doubtful stare at her but didn’t respond. They got out of the car, Holly using the few seconds it took to close and lock the door to inhale a deep breath and mindfully slow her heart rate down. Jack appeared to have already recovered from the incident, though she knew he had perfected his cool, unmoved act.
Holly walked into the shop—the commercially sterile, non-holiday-decorated shop—with Jack behind her, and she glanced around the room as she stamped her feet on the mat. In the corner, a woman sat alone. She spotted them coming in, and her face lit up as she waved them over.
Jack followed behind her, his reluctance like a hovering dark cloud. She didn’t know what his deal was about this, and she knew no amount of cajoling on her part would get him to tell her anything he didn’t want to tell.
“Megan? I’m Holly.” Holly extended her hand for Megan to shake, then took Jack’s arm to pull him beside her. “This is Jack Shay.”
Megan’s eyebrows lowered in confusion. “Are you two together?”
Holly laughed at the thought. Jack’s forearm flexed under her grip, and she loosened it. She must have still been a little shaken from the car ride to hold on to him so tight. “No, Jack was my late husband’s best friend. He’s just here to make sure you’re not a serial killer.”
Jack reached his free hand out and shook Megan’s as well. Holly saw the appreciative gleam in the young woman’s eye as she took in Jack.
“Nice to meet you.” Jack glanced around. “Is your brother here?”
Megan made a pained face. “Well, that’s complicated.”
Holly felt some of her excitement about this meeting drift away. Complicated might not fit into her tight deadline. She’d talked to Megan on the phone about her idea, and Megan had enthusiastically agreed on her brother’s behalf.
“Have you ordered?” Holly asked Megan. She’d been on her feet most of the day and was starving. Maybe some food would help improve this complication.
“I did,” Megan said.
“I’ll order for you so you can talk.” Jack turned on his heel and walked toward the short line without a backward glance.
“Did I say something?” Megan asked, unsure, as she watched Jack’s retreating back.
“No.” Holly took a seat at the high table. “That’s just Jack. He doesn’t like to waste words.”
“Oh. He’s pretty handsome,” Megan ventured, and then she blushed. “I can’t believe I said that. Let’s focus on my brother for now.”
Holly peeked back at Jack, who was next in line to order, staring at the menu. He made a picture-perfect sight: his strong jaw tilted just right to give you the absolute best view of his profile, and his hair perfectly styled despite the beanie hanging out of his coat pocket.
Would he let
her set him up with Megan? Probably not. She tore her eyes away. “So, have you had the chance to talk to your brother about letting me interview him?” Might as well start at the beginning.
“Yes,” Megan said slowly. “But he’s not interested.”
Holly let out a long breath. Not good. She wished Megan had called her to tell her this instead of having her drive out here.
“But,” Megan said, “I think we could get him to change his mind.”
“Really?” Holly leaned forward, listening. “How?”
“I think we need to go back to my original idea.”
“Me marrying your brother?”
“Kind of.”
Jack slid into the seat beside Holly and placed a numbered pole at the end of their table next to Megan’s. “How does one ‘kind of’ marry someone?”
Megan shifted in her seat, flustered. Holly gave Jack a be nice glare, but she also had the same question.
“I think if anyone could convince him to go on the show, it would be you.”
“She’s right,” Jack said, earning an appreciative smile from Megan. Holly could almost see the nerves melting out of her—and going right into Holly.
“I’m not going on a date,” she said. “I don’t do dates.”
“What if we arranged for you to bump into my brother somewhere? Then you could tell him about the show. I think you could convince him.”
Holly was relieved from having to come up with a response when a waiter brought their food. She realized as he set it in front of her that she’d had no idea what Jack was going to order for her. Broccoli and cheddar soup with a chunk of crusty bread, and a pink lemonade to drink. Exactly what she would have gotten, even though they’d never been here together before.
Her heart swelled with happiness. Jack always managed to do things like this. Maybe this was what made him such an excellent doctor: he was an observer. In all the time he wasn’t talking, he was listening, watching, taking everything in, and analyzing. She didn’t think his brain ever stopped running for a moment, even though his face was often as still as granite.
“Thanks,” she said to him.
He bit into his sandwich instead of replying, but nudged his leg against hers in acknowledgment.
Holly turned back to Megan. “Why do you want this so much?”
“Because my brother is a great guy, but he’s so distracted by work that he can’t even see that he’s missing out on life. I think this could help him.”
“What if he doesn’t care to be helped?” Jack asked.
“That’s the problem,” Megan said. “Listen, my brother saved my life when I was a kid. I’ve been looking for ways to pay him back ever since, and I think this is it. He needs to find love.”
Holly exchanged a glance with Jack, but as usual, he was completely unreadable. Still, it gave her courage to say what she needed, even as she cringed inside. “As much as I love the story—and as well as it would go over with my viewers—I can’t force someone to sit in front of the camera and be vulnerable, and that’s exactly what we’d be asking him to do.”
“I understand,” Megan said, but she looked completely disappointed. “But think about it. Please? One date with him. That’s all I’m asking.”
Holly promised to think about it, and they finished their dinner, but any level of camaraderie was gone, and in its place was awkwardness. Holly couldn’t agree to go on a date just to get an episode of her show filmed. If it even worked.
She could miss a week of posting, but she’d wanted to ride the success of the Take a Chance Christmas collaboration, especially with money needed for the foundation now more than ever. In two years, she’d never skipped a week, and she wouldn’t start now.
But a date? Nope. That was too much to ask.
Chapter 9
Jack showed the MRI imaging of a knee to the group of interns who had shown up at his door for guidance. They gathered around his screen and studied the picture. One bonus of taking the other job would be that he wouldn’t have to mentor a bunch of medical students. Yes, he’d been a medical student once, but he swore he hadn’t been as annoying as any of these kids.
“Looks like a radial meniscus tear?” one of them finally ventured, looking almost as if they wished they could snatch the words back as soon as they were gone.
“Any other ideas?” he asked dryly. These were the future doctors of America. And yet, he could admit that some part of him liked watching them improve, even if it wasn’t fast enough for him.
They continued guessing until someone finally guessed meniscal flounce.
“Correct,” he stated, and they all sighed with relief. He kicked them out of his office and loosened his tie. Shift was finally over, the students were finally gone, and he had his evening to look forward to.
He glanced out of his darkened window. He hadn’t heard from Holly all day, which wasn’t unusual, but after how dejected he’d left her last night, he hoped she was okay. He knew how much she’d wanted Donovan to agree to this matchmaking scheme, but he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t a little relieved it hadn’t gone through.
He wasn’t the jealous sort, never had been. But something about this Donovan set his teeth on edge. And it wasn’t because he was projecting or any other such nonsense.
He pulled her up on his phone. It rang three times before she answered, sounding distracted.
“What are you doing?” he asked without preamble.
“Writing,” she mumbled. He could hear the clacking of the keys in the background and waited. In a moment, it stopped, and he could feel the shift of her full attention. “Remember that patient who had the heart attack in the cafe? He wants to interview me for a newspaper article. I’ve been answering his questions.”
“The article is about One Great Love Story?”
“Yeah. And me too, I guess. A lot of personal questions here.” She paused, and he knew he’d lost her for another moment. “Sorry. Want to come over?”
“Sure.” He tried to make it sound casual, as if this wasn’t the entire reason he’d called in the first place.
“See you soon,” she said, distracted, already lost in working on her email again. An article about her for the paper. That should definitely be interesting.
* * *
He knocked on her door, the faint sounds of Christmas music once again playing in the air of the neighborhood. He looked around for the sound. Could it be coming from one of the neighbors’ houses? No, it seemed to be emitting from somewhere behind him.
Holly opened the door and ushered him inside before sitting back at the couch under her white blanket. She had a fire going, and the coziness was like something from a movie. He also lived alone, and his house felt more like a cold tomb of silence.
“Sit,” she said, patting the seat right beside her. “I’m almost done.”
He took the seat beside her, his thigh brushing against hers as he did. She constantly amazed him—everything she did. She never stopped, whether it was at the hospital or clinic or her MyHeartChannel show.
While he waited, he pulled out his phone to check his messages. Tucker from the resort had sent an email of what he needed and when for the Bridger Cares Christmas dinner. The things they’d already discussed were on the list, but he’d also added other things: color scheme for tablecloths, table/chair layout approval, drink and dessert lists to comb through, time they needed to get in and decorate—this made Jack pause, because he realized that he’d naively assumed that the resort would take care of decorations—and registration needs, including tables, name tags (and names for said name tags, which they needed last week), and a question about if their photographer had a waiver for them to sign.
Jack had emailed a Save-the-Date notice the night before to the entire hospital staff email list, which had only included the location and date of the event. He’d received a string of replies from people with questions, questions he didn’t know the answers to yet, so they sat ignored in his inbox.
“You’r
e scowling,” Holly said absently as her fingers clacked over the keyboard.
He set his phone down on the coffee table. “How do you know? You’re not even looking.”
“It’s emanating off of you.” She stopped typing and clicked over to her email, frowning. “It’s very distracting, you know.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to fix it.” She nudged him with her knee, and he nudged her back. She let out a long sigh and closed her laptop, setting it onto the coffee table next to his.
“Your long sighs are distracting,” he said.
“Because you want to fix it?” she guessed.
“No, because they’re long and loud.”
She met his eye, and he hoped she could see the mirth there. Most other people didn’t, but Holly always seemed to be able to tell when he was joking. Her weary smile widened, and she leaned over to smack him on the stomach with the back of her hand. “I swear, Jack.”
He resisted the urge to grab her hand where it now rested between them on the couch. Did she realize her pinkie finger brushed against the edge of his leg, or that every time she moved he caught her airy cotton scent? But she wouldn’t want to hold his hand, and he didn’t want to ruin this thing between them. Holly was the closest person he had in his life, and for now, just being together was enough. It had to be, because it was all he’d ever get.
Which was for the best, maybe. What did it say about him that he’d fallen for Dallon’s wife? Some part of him thought Dallon would understand—how could he not? He’d fallen hard for Holly, too. And another part thought it should definitely be Dallon sitting here and not Jack, but that wasn’t possible, unfortunately.
“How’s your editing coming?” he asked, and he subtly shifted away from her.
She blew out another long breath, and when he met her gaze with one of consternation, she laughed. “Okay, sorry. I’ll try to sigh less. But my editing is not going well at all.” She picked at a loose thread on her blanket. “Megan’s brother isn’t answering my phone calls.”
One Great Christmas Love Story (MyHeartChannel Christmas Romance) Page 5