by Jaci Burton
“Actually, Dr. Chen, I was consulting with Dr. Ross about my diabetic patient in room six. Now that I’ve finished my consult, I’m about to head back.”
Dr. Chen nodded. “Carry on then, Dr. Murphy.”
Katie winked at her and headed off in the opposite direction.
“I noticed you treated Tucker Cassidy, Dr. Ross.”
Leave it to Dr. Chen to be on top of everything going on in his ER. “Yes, sir.”
“There’s no game today, so I assume it wasn’t a work-related injury.”
“No, Dr. Chen. He was playing football with his brothers and tripped over some rocks.”
“I assume you intend to follow up on his care, as well as report it to the team?”
“I do indeed. I’ll make a report to the team physician in the morning.”
“Make sure that you do. Our relationship with the Rivers is important to this hospital. They send all their injuries to us. We want to insure there’s follow-up.”
“There will be.”
“Is Mr. Cassidy still here?”
“I just left him a short while ago. Amy should be giving him discharge instructions.”
“I think I’ll stop in and see how he’s doing. You can go about your business with your other patients.”
“Yes, sir.”
She couldn’t get away from him fast enough. Dr. Chen was brilliant in the ER, and she’d learned a lot in the past few years working under him. But damn if he wasn’t intimidating as hell. The man didn’t have a warm bone in his body. She always felt under the microscope whenever he directed his scrutiny toward her, as if she somehow didn’t measure up.
She knew it was just her own mind conjuring up something that wasn’t there. Her evaluations had always been decent, and she’d never had a complaint about her performance. But she also put high standards on herself. And feedback was so important to her, so she’d know whether she was on the right track.
Just once, she’d like Dr. Chen to tell her she’d done a good job. That wasn’t in his nature, though. If he wasn’t screaming at you that you were an incompetent moron, then you were supposed to assume you were doing a good job.
She’d be glad when her residency was over and she would no longer be under his thumb.
She was a damn good doctor.
And getting distracted by Tucker Cassidy wasn’t going to help her become a better one.
TUCKER SAT IN A MEETING WITH PHIL, THE TEAM DOCTOR, and Manny Magee, his coach.
“Is this going to become a regular thing, Cassidy?”
The last thing Tucker wanted right now was to be the recipient of one of Manny’s signature glares. You didn’t want Manny glaring at you. Really, you didn’t want Manny paying the slightest bit of attention to you. Manny ignoring you was a good thing. You’d rather him yell at someone else.
“No, Manny, it isn’t.”
“So how come you’ve been to the ER twice in less than two weeks?”
Tucker slid his fingers through his hair. “Just a fluke.”
“You lost a spot in the rotation. That fucks up my schedule, which doesn’t make me happy.”
And you definitely didn’t want to make Manny unhappy. “It won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t.” Manny turned to Phil. “He ready to pitch now?”
Phil nodded. “He’s been checked out and he’s cleared.”
“Good. Then we won’t have to sit around and have any more of these fireside chats, right?” Manny asked him.
“No.”
Manny stood. “Get your ass out there and throw some pitches. Try not to fall off the mound when you do.”
Tucker prided himself on doing his job. In fact, he was damn good at it. Distractions never bothered him, whether it was fans booing him during an out-of-town game, or a field full of swarming bugs in late summer. Whatever it was, he could handle it.
He had no idea what the hell had been going on with him lately, but whatever it was, it was over now. He’d make sure of it.
He took to the field for some warm-up pitches, ignoring the athletic trainers who kept a close eye on him.
Fall off the mound. Fuck that. He’d been born to stand on this mound and throw pitches.
He started slow, since Phil and the trainers hadn’t allowed him to pitch in over a week. He’d been forced to sit in the bullpen and watch someone else take his spot in the rotation. He’d chewed through about six bags of sunflower seeds, his irritation spiking with every pitch he hadn’t been able to throw.
Even worse, they’d lost the game he should have been pitching.
Now, though, he was getting his groove back—especially his curveball. With every pitch he threw, he felt more and more like himself again. And when he finished his warm-up set and walked off the mound, he felt like no time had passed, as if he could pitch an entire game right now and strike out twenty-seven batters in a row.
He wished he could pitch a game right now, instead of two days from now when it was his turn in the rotation again. He was itching to prove to his coaches and the medical team that there wasn’t a damn thing wrong with him.
In the meantime, though, he wanted to get in touch with Aubry. He’d put it off long enough, and these injuries had gotten in the way.
He wanted to see her if she had time, and since they were playing a day game today, he had a night off. Which meant they might be able to get together tonight.
The only way he was going to find out was to ask, so he pulled out his phone and dialed her number, which, after a few rings, went to voice mail.
Okay, so she was probably working. That made sense. He decided to text her instead.
I’m off tonight. Are you free? If so, how about dinner?
He waited a few minutes and didn’t get an answer, so he shoved his phone in his bag and decided to check it later.
“Later” ended up being after his game that afternoon. Garrett Scott pitched a great game, allowing only one run, and the offense helped out by scoring four. It felt good to get a win, even if he didn’t get a chance to help out. The team was what mattered.
He checked his phone and found a return text from Aubry.
Not sure you and I seeing each other is a good idea.
His lips curved. At least it wasn’t an outright no.
He typed a return text to her.
Are you working tonight?
This time, she replied right away. I worked earlier. I’m off tonight.
He pressed the call button, and she answered.
“Hi, Tucker.”
“Hey. So they occasionally give you days off, huh?”
“Shockingly, yes. And you as well?”
“We just finished up a game.”
“Oh, that’s right. You have midday games during the week sometimes. And how did that turn out?”
“We won.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
He could tell she was trying to turn their conversation toward anything but going out, so he intended to steer it back. “So . . . about dinner?”
“Oh, right. Like I mentioned in my text message, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not? You’re good-looking, I’m good-looking, we’re around the same age. I assume you like to eat.”
She laughed. “I do like to eat.”
“Great. Give me your address and around seven thirty we’ll do that eating thing together.”
He heard her sigh. “Okay. But at dinner I’ll tell you why we shouldn’t see each other.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
She said she’d text him her address when he offered to pick her up. After he hung up, he smiled.
He had a date with Aubry tonight.
AFTER TUCKER CALLED, AUBRY HAD SPENT THE REST of the afternoon taking care of business. She paid some bills, dashed to the grocery store and did some laundry. Keeping her eye on the time, she took a quick shower and stared at herself in the mirror, feeling ridiculous for agreeing to a date with Tucker.
As if her life wasn’t complicated enough. She should have said no when he asked her.
So why hadn’t she?
Because you want to go out with him, idiot. That’s why.
Ignoring that annoying inner voice, she dried her hair, put on makeup and went to her closet, trying to figure out what to wear.
Dinner. Nights could still be cool, so she chose a pair of black skinny pants and a long top, then slid on her boots and selected a pair of silver dangly earrings.
Okay, maybe it felt good to dress up in something besides scrubs for a change, and eat something other than microwave meals or a salad. Or, God forbid, hospital cafeteria food. Tucker was damn fine to look at, so there was that as well. How bad could it be to share a meal with a hot guy she was attracted to? He was funny, smart, and if they didn’t end up in the ER because he fell off the curb and broke an ankle or something, it might just be a decent night.
It was just a date, not a relationship. Simple, easy, and fun. Not life changing or anything. She could live with that.
When the doorbell rang, she felt ridiculous for the sudden uptick in her pulse rate.
Just a date, Aubry. Remember? Light and simple.
She opened the door and swallowed at the sight of him wearing dark jeans and a button-down shirt.
“Hi,” she said.
His lips ticked up. “Hi yourself.”
“Come on in. I’m just about ready.”
He walked in and she closed the door behind him, trying not to stare at his ass. Or imagine her hands on said ass. While he was naked.
Get a grip, woman.
Instead, she focused on what he was wearing, assessing the overall look. There was something about men in button-down shirts and blue jeans that really got to her. Maybe because she’d been surrounded by men in either suits or scrubs her entire life.
Plus . . . Tucker. Thick black hair and those glasses, and the eyes behind them. Deep, green eyes he fixed on her when he turned around.
This was what happened when she didn’t have sex for a really long time. Katie and Marie were right. Her libido was definitely coming out in full force right now.
She’d have to remind herself to keep her focus tonight.
It was a date. They were going out for dinner. Nothing more.
“Nice place.”
She shrugged. “Just a condo. It’s really nothing much. I didn’t want to buy a house—not right now, anyway, since I don’t spend a lot of time here.”
“Because you’re always at the hospital.”
She nodded. “Yes. How about you?”
“The same. I’m on the road a lot, and I want to make sure a team is going to keep me before I decide to invest in a house. So I’m leasing a condo. I don’t live too far from you, actually. Just a few miles down the road.”
“The new complex? The one they finished up last year? The Shenandoah Heights neighborhood?”
“Yeah. That’s the one.”
“I love those condos. Big porches and a great park and pool. I have a friend who lives over there. The square footage is awesome.”
“It’s pretty nice.”
“Did you get the two bedroom or three?”
“Three. I have a big family and some of them like to visit. Between Grant and me, we can put them up.”
“I’m very jealous. The floor plan for the three bedroom is very generous for a condo.”
He walked into her living room. “Your place has decent space. I like your kitchen. Do you cook?”
“I hardly remember what it’s like to have the time to fix a decent meal. And to be honest, I don’t really know how to cook many things. How about you? Do you cook?”
“On the grill outside. Steaks and burgers and things. I do make fantastic pancakes. Plus, I can microwave the hell out of anything.”
She laughed. “So your awesome kitchen is going to waste.”
“Pretty much. Like tonight.”
He was giving her a look, when she realized they were just standing there in the living room.
She obviously didn’t entertain enough, either. Her mother would be appalled. “Oh. I’m so sorry. I’ll be just a minute. Please sit down.”
She dashed off to the bedroom, finger combed her hair, applied lip gloss, then took one last look in the mirror.
Decent. Okay, she looked hot. Good enough to get laid, if that’s what she had in mind.
Which she didn’t. At all. Much.
Okay, maybe a little.
“This is ridiculous,” she whispered to herself as she grabbed her purse, her sweater, and opened the bedroom door. She pasted on her best smile and decided whatever happened—happened. She was tired of the inner war she was having with herself.
Tucker stood as she came out.
“Did I mention you look gorgeous tonight? Though you look pretty damn hot in those scrubs you wear at the hospital, too.”
He was not making her inner war any easier. “Thank you.”
He held the door for her, then shut it behind her. He also opened her car door and waited while she slid in before closing the door and going around to his side.
Maybe that was normal. Maybe all guys did that. But she’d dated enough in college to know that wasn’t true.
“So where are we going tonight?”
“I thought I’d keep it light and easy since you were a little wary about going out with me.”
She looked down at her hands. “I didn’t exactly say I was wary.”
“Oh, I think you made it clear. But you can trust me, Aubry. I’m a pretty great guy.”
She shifted her gaze to him. “And so modest, too.”
His lips curved. “Yeah, that too.”
He drove toward the west end of the city, and when he pulled up in front of a light brown brick building and parked, she turned to face him.
“Are we stopping at a friend’s house?”
“Nope. This is part one of our date tonight.”
She had no idea what that meant, but when he came around to her side of the car, she got out. It was then she noticed the sign planted on the front lawn.
Madame Sheila’s Psychic Readings.
She tilted her head and gave him a look. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. I thought it might be fun.”
“I’m going to tell you up front that I don’t believe in this stuff.”
He shrugged. “We’ll give it a go. Madame Sheila might have insight into our futures.”
“Uh-huh. Sure she will.”
Though she had to admit, it sounded fun. Hokey as hell, but fun.
They stepped inside the house. It was an older home, with a parlor entry. Just inside, there was a desk, with a young, very attractive brunette sitting behind it.
“May I help you?”
How very official.
Tucker gave his and Aubry’s first names. The woman clicked on her laptop. “Yes, Madame Sheila will see you both shortly. I have you booked with a group appointment. Is that correct?”
Tucker turned to her. “I thought it would be more fun that way, but you can go in alone if you have some deep dark secrets you’d like to keep from me.”
She laughed. “No, we can go together.”
Considering the woman would likely tell her she was going to meet a tall, dark stranger, she figured her secrets—since she didn’t have any—were safe.
They took a seat and waited about five minutes. It gave her time to appreciate what had to be original wood floors and the gorgeous crown molding. The solid wood archway leading into the alcove just behind Madame Sheila’s assistant was something to covet. It would make a lovely sitting area—or even an office. It made Aubry want a house of her own.
Someday. Once her residency was finished and she was settled in, she’d be able to house shop, and then she’d have the place of her dreams.
“We’re ready for you now,” the brunette said, having appeared from down the hall. “Please come this way.”
She spoke in hushed tones, like the
y had an audience with the Pope or something. Aubry rolled her eyes at Tucker.
“Hey, this is serious business,” he said, his lips curving.
“I can hardly wait.”
They were taken to a room just to the right off the hall. The room was brightly lit, surprisingly. Aubry expected complete darkness, candles, and maybe a crystal ball on the table. And of course Madame Sheila wearing robes and a turban.
Instead, there were two sofas and several comfortable chairs. And an older woman with short brown hair who smiled when they entered. She was wearing slacks and an orange blouse. No turban in sight.
“Good evening. My name is Sheila. You are Tucker and Aubry?”
Tucker walked in and shook her hand. “Yes. I’m Tucker.”
“And I’m Aubry.” She shook Sheila’s hand.
“Please, sit down. Would you care for some coffee or tea? Or some water?”
“Nothing for me, thank you,” Aubry said.
“I’m good,” Tucker said.
Sheila nodded. “That’ll be all for now, Brenda.”
The brunette shut the door behind them.
“Well, then, I’ll start my speech. I’m Sheila Aveila. I’m a psychic medium, which means I can see the past, plus the future. You booked your appointment through my assistant, Brenda, who is also my daughter. Other than that, I know nothing about the two of you. Can you confirm that?”
“Yeah. I gave her my first name and Aubry’s first name and my cell phone number. Nothing else,” Tucker said.
“Good. Then we’ll get started.” Sheila closed her eyes for a few seconds and took several deep breaths. Then she opened her eyes and stared at Aubry.
“You lost someone you loved not too long ago. Someone you cared very deeply about.”
Aubry was about to say something, but Sheila held up her hand to stop her.
“Your grandmother?”
Aubry didn’t know how Sheila would be aware of that. “I . . . yes.”
“You have her bracelet. A charm bracelet. You keep it in your jewelry box, and when you’re stressed or upset, you take it out and put it on. It gives you comfort.”
No one would know that. Even Aubry’s mother didn’t know about her ritual. “Yes.”
“That makes your grandmother happy. She’s with you when you do that, and she wants you to know that someday soon, your life will get easier. But in the meantime, take comfort, because she’s always with you.”