by Lori Wilde
The Jinx
Heartthrob Hospital Book 2
Lori Wilde
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
Excerpt from The Thunderbolt
Also by Lori Wilde
About the Author
1
CeeCee Adams was cursed. Hexed. Jinxed. Doomed.
Forever unlucky in love and destined to traipse the earth as a single woman, compliments of the Jessup family whammy.
How else to explain the numerous failed marriages and hapless love affairs among the women in her family? How else could she account for the likes of Lars Vandergrin, a six-foot-four Neanderthal who wrestled for the WWF?
Lars had a grin to melt snow off mountain peaks, sheer blond hair cascading to his waist, and hands as grabby as quadruplet two-year-olds at a grocery store. The man also possessed the same rudimentary disregard for the word “no” as the aforementioned toddlers. For the last three hours she’d fended off his advances while sitting through the latest high-octane action-adventure flick, and she was quickly running out of patience.
Thanks a million, Grandma Addie, as if dating in this new millennium wasn’t difficult enough.
Fifty years ago, back in the old country, her maternal grandmother, Addie Jessup, had stolen a fortuneteller’s lover. The fortuneteller, a rather vengeful sort it seems, not only zapped Addie with the evil eye, but damned every Jessup female for three generations. No woman in Addie’s direct lineage stayed married and divorce was as commonplace as swapping cars.
Which was the very reason CeeCee never dated any guy for too long. She refused to fall into the same trap as her mother, aunts, and older sister, Geena. No multiple marriages for her. No revolving charge account at bridal registries. No ugly child custody battles.
No, siree. She was forever a free spirit. Single and loving it.
Except for times like these.
She’d met Lars when he had sought treatment in her physical therapy department for a torn rotator cuff. Over the past three weeks he had pestered her to go out with him. She had finally agreed, hoping to persuade him to appear in the wrestling regalia he wore as the Missing Link for St. Madeleine Hospital’s charity bachelor auction held annually the third Friday in July. The auction raised healthcare funds for Houston’s inner-city kids and having been one of those kids, it was a cause that held CeeCee’s heart.
At the moment she and Lars were standing beneath the porch lamp on the front stoop of her apartment. Lars had her pinned against the door, his hot breath fanning the hairs along her forehead, fingers thick as kielbasa twisting the top button of her blouse. She cared deeply about the charity auction but not deeply enough to grant this slab of marble carte blanche access to her body.
“Stop it.” She swatted his hand and her charm bracelet jangled. “I don’t appreciate being pawed.”
“Come on, bay-bee, you owe me.” He puckered his lips.
“Owe you? How do you figure?”
“Shrimp dinner, movie, popcorn.”
“Hang on, I’ll give you the cash.”
“No cash.” He shook his head and his hair swung like the blond mane on the My Little Pony her first stepfather had given her for her seventh birthday. “The Missing Link wants kissy-kissy.”
“If you don’t remove your hands from my body this instant, you’ll be singing soprano.”
He giggled and ground his hips against her. “You’re feisty. Lars like that.”
He’d been referring to himself in the third person all night.
“You haven’t seen feisty, buster. Hands off.” She didn’t intimidate easily, but a small splash of fear rippled through her. Lars was a very large man.
Immediately she thought of her good friend and next-door neighbor, Dr. Jack Travis. Was Jack home?
She dodged Lars’ attempt to kiss her and shot a glance through the sweltering June darkness to the ground floor apartment across the courtyard. Light slanted through the blinds.
At that moment she would have given anything to be with good old dependable Jack, listening to jazz music, sharing a laugh. Jack had such a great laugh. A resonant sound that made her feel safe, secure, and cared for. She valued their platonic relationship far more than he would ever know.
If things got really nasty, she would scream for Jack, but she wouldn’t call unless she had no choice. She proudly fought her own battles. Besides, thanks to the curse, she’d had more than her share of run-ins with guys like Lars. Still, it was nice knowing she had Jack as backup.
“Come on, bay-bee.” Lars cupped his palm against her nape. “Let’s go inside.”
Over my dead body!
“Listen here, Vandergrin.” She splayed a palm across his chest and cocked her knee, ready to use it if necessary. “Things are moving too fast between us.”
“You want me in your bachelor auction? I do a favor for you. You do a favor for me.”
Blackmailer.
This time she wasn’t quick enough. Lars captured her mouth and gave her a hard, insistent kiss. She was in trouble. Forget subtlety. No more Ms. Nice Girl. As for the charity auction, she’d just have to find another celebrity.
“Shove off!” CeeCee jerked her mouth away at the same moment Lars thrust out his tongue. Her forehead accidentally whacked into his chin.
“Yeow,” he screamed and pressed a hand to his mouth. “You made me bwite my tonwue!”
“Thank you for taking out my garbage.” Miss Abercrombie smiled at Jack.
The elderly lady, who had once been an exotic dancer and had numerous photographs displayed around her apartment to prove it, wore a blue-green muumuu with a bright-pink feather boa draped around her neck. She wobbled on three-inch mules and peered at him over the top of her soda-bottle-thick glasses. In her arms she held a snow-white poodle dubbed Muffin. The dog’s curly coat was festooned with pink bows, and her toenails were painted to match.
“It’s no problem.” He picked up the trash bag and headed for the door.
Miss Abercrombie clip-clomped behind him.
Every Sunday night that he wasn’t on duty at the hospital, Jack took out the trash for the elderly single women at the River Run apartment complex and for one other special lady as well. His next-door neighbor and best friend, CeeCee Adams.
At the thought of CeeCee, he smiled. Zany, bubbly, flame haired CeeCee with her fearless zest for adventure and her unbridled lust for life. He admired everything about her and wished he could be more like her.
Muffin whined from her owner’s embrace.
“She wants to come with you,” Miss Abercrombie said. “Do you mind?”
The button-eyed mutt gazed longingly at him and wriggled from Miss Abercrombie’s grasp. Tail wagging, Muffin leaped to the ground and sniffed his ankle.
“I can’t believe how much Muffin loves you. She usually hates men. Then again, you’re not like most men, are you. You’re so sweet.”
Yeah. So women kept telling him. But sweetness and a two-dollar bill wouldn’t even buy him a cup of decaf latte at the coffee shop around the corner.
“Come on, Muff.” He would have preferred not to have the dog snaking between his legs on his tre
k to the dumpster.
He and the poodle stopped at the bottom of the stairs to pick up two other garbage sacks Jack had left behind before climbing the stairs to Miss Abercrombie’s apartment. Prince, the border collie who guarded apartment 112, jumped to his feet and trotted after them. As they rounded the corner, a roly-poly beagle/terrier cross waddled from the alley and joined the procession.
Terrific. Not only was he the neighborhood trash collector, it seemed he was now the official dog walker as well.
He caught his breath as they neared CeeCee’s apartment and his pulse revved. He hadn’t seen her for a couple of days, and he missed her.
A lot.
From the moment he’d first seen her sailing through the courtyard on in-line skates, a saucy, come-catch-me-big-boy smile on her oval face, her curly red hair streaking behind her like livid fire, he’d wanted her.
He’d known he wasn’t her type, and he had never once rallied the courage to tell her how he felt. How could he? Dr. Jack was solid, responsible, dependable.
Face it, he was boring.
He saw the men she dated; scuba divers and rock climbers, bungee jumpers and snowboarders. Guys with tattoos and pierced body parts, long hair and beard stubble. Men who stared danger in the face and laughed.
Men like his twin brother, Zack.
For identical twins, their differences were amazing. Jack was cautious; Zack reckless. Jack methodical; Zack messy. Jack dedicated his life to medicine. Zack, a famous motocross champion, dedicated his life to wine, women, and wheels. Most women considered Jack a great friend. Those same women considered Zack a great lover.
He wasn’t jealous. Well, not much.
Occasionally, however, he would have given anything to possess Zack’s charm with the ladies. Like when CeeCee came over to his apartment, flopped on his sofa, tucked those pinup quality legs beneath her, and filled his ears with another tale of relationship woes.
If she’d asked him for his opinion, he could have told her where she was making her mistakes. The guys she picked were wrong for her. A spontaneous woman like CeeCee needed a steady guy to balance her out. Someone like himself. But he was too afraid of ruining their friendship to offer unsolicited advice.
He started up the staircase. A guttural scream from the direction of CeeCee’s apartment stopped him cold. He sprang into action, sprinting the remaining steps to the second-floor landing. He spotted CeeCee standing on her doorstep grappling with a human rendition of King Kong’s third cousin.
“Let go!” She tried to yank her arm from the big ape’s grip.
The primate wore black leather motorcycle pants and hobnailed boots and chains. He towered at least six foot three and possessed the prominent brow of a Cro-Magnon. His platinum-blond hair dangled to his butt, and he had one hand clamped over her mouth.
Despite being four inches shorter and at least sixty pounds lighter, Jack never hesitated. His best friend was in trouble.
He slung the trash bags to the ground, lowered his head, and plowed into the guy’s abdomen at a dead run.
Jack hit him hard.
The Granite Mountain’s stomach muscles were solid as bone. The creature didn’t even grunt.
Jack heard birds singing. Tweet. Tweet. Tweet. His knees slid to the cement.
Uh-oh.
Granite Mountain sort of growled, shook his head, grabbed Jack by the collar, and pulled him to his feet. His long hair slapped Jack in the face, stinging his eyes.
Jack’s chin snapped up, and he looked into a kisser as deadly as a steel trap, and he knew he’d met his Waterloo.
Fools rush in.
Which was the very reason he rarely acted heedlessly. He should have been smart and telephoned the cops. But he hadn’t thought. He’d seen CeeCee was in trouble and he had simply acted.
A first for Jack Travis. In a weird way, despite the peril, he kind of enjoyed his automatic, yet foolhardy bravery.
“CeeCee,” Jack managed over looking at the business end of a fist the size of a Virginia ham. “Are you all right?”
“Is she aw wright?” Granite Mountain howled. “She de one who made me bwite my tonwue.”
“I’m sure you deserved it.” Jack’s gaze flicked to CeeCee. She looked gorgeous in skintight capri leggings and a form-fitting rainbow-colored tunic blouse.
“She’s a witch,” Granite Mountain snarled.
“Apologize.” Jack thrust out his chest and faced the guy down.
“What are you gonna do about it, twash boy?” Granite Mountain planted a hand on Jack’s chest and gave him a shove. Jack stumbled backward into the garbage sacks.
Calm fury overtook him. Never in his life had he been so determined. The creature was going to apologize to CeeCee if it was the last thing he ever did.
Jack picked up a trash bag and swung it at man. “I’m going to kick your backside around this apartment complex. That’s what I’m going to do about it.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Jack smacked the dude in the chest with a trash bag.
The bag split open, splattering garbage over the man’s leather ensemble. He let out an angry whoop and lunged for Jack, trapping his neck in a stranglehold and squeezing like a starving boa constrictor.
“Don’t you dare hurt him, Lars!” CeeCee commanded the iron giant. “Let him go! Now!”
Lars, of course that was his name. A Viking. Stars burst behind Jack’s eyelids. Red. Yellow. White. His head swam dizzily. He heard dogs yapping, but they sounded very far off.
If he didn’t do something quickly, he was going to pass out, leaving CeeCee at the mercy of this cretin. Reaching out, he snatched a handful of long blond hair.
And jerked with all his might.
“Ow! Stwop pulling my hair,” Lars howled.
Jack tugged harder.
Lars spun to the left, and his elbow wrapped around Jack’s neck. Both of Jack’s fists were entangled in Lars’ mane.
CeeCee bound into action. Faster than Wonder Woman in a tailspin, she lunged onto the man’s back.
For one crazy, dizzy moment the three of them were locked in a bizarre tango. Lars staggered forward, then back, trying to maintain his balance with CeeCee above him, Jack beneath his feet.
“Let him go!” CeeCee shouted.
“Make him wet go of me,” Lars bawled.
Muffin, Prince, and the beagle-terrier mix barked and chased around them in a circle.
“Everybody let go of everybody,” Jack choked out.
Throughout the apartment complex doors were opening. People shouted. An audience gathered in the courtyard. More dogs scaled the stairs and joined the fray.
Lars spun into the wall, trying to dislodge CeeCee who still clung to his back. In the process, his grip on Jack’s neck loosened.
Jack released Lars’ hair and instead reached for his ankles, intending on tripping him.
“Jump off, CeeCee.”
“He’s the Missing Link.”
“Tell me about it. He’s a cross between King Kong and a heavy weight boxer.”
“No, you don’t understand. He’s Lars Vandergrin, a professional wrestler, Jack.”
“Oops. Now you tell me.”
Lars growled.
“Jump. I swear he’s going down,” Jack urged, determined to remain resolute despite the fact he was tangling with a professional wrestler. He kept his hands locked like handcuffs around the man’s ankles.
CeeCee cleared Lars’ back at the same moment the man tumbled like a felled redwood straight into the pile of trash sacks torn open during the fight.
Slam dunk!
Lars hit with a thud. The staircase shook. He lay lifeless in the debris.
Jack and CeeCee stared at each other.
“Is he breathing?” She squinted. “Oh my gosh, did we kill him?”
Pulse pounding at the thought he might have hurt a fellow human being, Jack hurried forward to investigate, prepared to do CPR if necessary.
“Oof.” Lars groaned. He sat up and
slowly shook his head with the lethargic motion of a hibernating bear rousing from a long winter’s nap.
Jack backed away with his hands raised. “Let’s have no more trouble.”
Lars looked down. Peanut butter and coffee grounds hung in his hair. Something green and sticky oozed from his elbow. Eggshells decorated his lap. A banana peel dangled from one ear. Muffin licked the toe of his boot. The other dogs were sniffing hungrily at his clothes.
“My hair! I just washed it.” Lars burst into tears.
“Gee,” CeeCee muttered, standing on tiptoes to peer over Jack’s shoulder. “What a big baby.”
Muffin looked up at Lars and growled.
“Poodles!” Lars cried. “I hate poodles.” The huge man lumbered to his feet and took off.
The yelping dogs gave chase, nipping at the Missing Link’s heels as he thundered down the stairs. Woof, woof, woof.
Jack and CeeCee leaned over the railing, watching the Missing Link screech away into the inky darkness, then turned to smile at each other.
The neighbors who had gathered during the altercation, applauded and cheered before calling to their dogs and ambling back to their apartments, shaking their heads in amusement.
CeeCee flung her arms around Jack’s neck. Her gold charm bracelet jangled merrily in his ears. Her cheeks were flushed, her green eyes sparkling with excitement, her hair sexily mussed. Her well-rounded chest rose and fell heavily against his.
She smelled exquisite. Like rainbows and sunshine and moonbeams. Jack’s stomach took a roller-coaster ride up to his throat and then plunged back down again. He realized he was holding his breath.
Waiting.
“My hero!” she exclaimed, then cupped his face in her hands and kissed him.
2
CeeCee couldn’t say who was more stunned by her impromptu kiss, she or Jack.