Always & Forever: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (ABCs of Love Collection, Books 1 - 4)

by Brenna Jacobs

  David ushered her into his kitchen and pulled out a chair, motioning for her to sit. She dropped onto the seat, extending her leg out in front of her. “What happened?” David reached for the rag Avery still pressed into her skin, noticing the softness of her fingers when he brushed against them. He cleared his throat and willed himself to focus. She smelled like summertime and sweat and the gardenias that bloomed along the hedge between their homes. The cut was high on her thigh—so high that she had to hitch up the hem of her shorts for him to see the entire thing.

  “I was pressure washing the metal roofing that covers my back porch, and I slipped.”

  David looked up and met her gaze. “Off the roof?”

  Avery lifted her shoulders and grimaced. “Not all the way. I caught myself on the edge, but something on the gutter . . .” She took a deep breath. “Is it bad?”

  The cut was deep, about six inches long and definitely stitch-worthy, but the bleeding had already slowed; that was a good sign. “Not too bad,” David said. “When was the last time you had a tetanus shot?”

  “What? I need a shot?” Avery sat up a little taller, almost kneeing David, who still crouched in front of her, in the face.

  He leaned back, just in time to avoid the blow.

  “Oops. Sorry. I need a shot?” she said again, her voice softer the second time around.

  “If you haven’t had a tetanus shot in the last five years, it’d be a good idea,” David said.

  “I’ve had one,” Avery said. “When I started work. I had to get a booster.”

  David nodded. “Then there’s no reason why I can’t stitch you up here.”

  “Really? In your kitchen?”

  “Only if you’re comfortable with it. I can drive you to the hospital if you’d rather do that.”

  Avery swallowed and her face paled, but she nodded. “Does it have to be stitches? Can’t you tape it closed or something? You can do that now, right? Use glue?”

  David looked at the wound then shook his head. “It’s a little too deep and with its position on your leg, I worry there will be too much tension on the wound for anything but stitches.”

  “So, you’re going to have to use a needle?”

  David reached for her wrist and felt for her pulse, suddenly worried she might pass out. “Just take a few deep breathes, okay? You’re going to be fine.”

  Avery leaned her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes, nodding just slightly. “I don’t like needles,” she said, her voice almost too quiet to hear.

  “I promise you won’t have to watch.” It was flimsy reassurance, but it was the best David could do.

  She nodded her head without opening her eyes. “Okay.”

  “I’m going to grab a suture kit, okay? I’ve got one in the back.” David walked down the dark hallway that led to the spare bedroom-turned-office at the back of his house. Well, eventual office. It was currently functioning as more of a makeshift overflow of everything he hadn’t unpacked yet. The disorganization killed him, but he needed more than a few hours away from the hospital to tackle it, and so far, those stretches of time were hard to come by.

  At least he knew where the suture kit was. Grabbing one from a box just to the right of his desk, he hurried back to the kitchen.

  Avery eyed him warily. “You just keep those on hand, huh? You have a lot of injured neighbors showing up on your doorstep?”

  David chuckled. “More than you might think. But no, I don’t generally keep them on hand. Before my job started here, I had a few months to kill so I worked at this free clinic down in Bolivia. They were desperate for supplies, so I bought what I could and filled my suitcases.”

  “Wow.”

  David opened the kit, pulling out what he would need and setting everything up on the table. “I still have a closet full of things I couldn’t fit.”

  “Lucky me, I guess?” Avery’s voice caught and she closed her eyes again. “I hate needles,” she said, her voice low. “Did I already tell you that? I really, really hate needles.”

  David looked at her face, even paler than before, leaning against the back of his hard kitchen chair. “Here.” He reached out his hand and she opened her eyes. “Let’s move into the living room. That way you can be more comfortable.”

  She bit her lip. “I don’t want to get blood on your couch. I’m sure I’ll be fine here.”

  “You won’t get blood on the couch, and I don’t want to risk you passing out in my kitchen. I need you stable and still, unless you want a scar that looks like it belongs in a Harry Potter novel.” He motioned again. “Come on. I’ll help you.”

  She finally relented, slipping one hand into his, the other pushing the dish towel she’d used to cover the cut back against her leg. “Fine, fine.”

  David helped Avery to the couch, guiding her as she leaned back onto the cushions. He tried not to notice how much he liked the feel of her hand in his. He slid the coffee table a little closer. “Here. Maybe if you prop your foot up on the table . . .” He pushed a hand through his hair. No matter how she sat, there was no way he was suturing a cut on her inner thigh without getting close into her personal space. Almost too close.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t cut myself in a more convenient spot,” Avery said with a knowing grin.

  David’s cheeks flushed with heat, but he managed a smile. “Don’t worry about it. This could definitely be worse.” He retrieved his supplies from the kitchen and sat down on the edge of the coffee table. “Not that this is bad. This is good. I mean, not good as in—”

  “Dave,” Avery said, cutting him off. She held a finger out and pressed it against his lips. “Shhhh. Please just doctor me so I can stop freaking out about the needles you’re about to thread through my skin.”

  “Got it,” he said, hoping she didn’t notice the slight tremor in his voice. What did she do to him? He was a medical professional. A man who kept his cool even in the most stressful of situations. It’s what he was known for. Yet, she turned him into a fumbling, bumbling middle schooler. He didn’t even care that she’d called him Dave.

  He willed himself to forget about how close she was, how warm her skin felt, and just zero in on the actual wound.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked. “Lightheaded at all?”

  She shook her head no.

  “Do you have any allergies? Latex? Iodine?”

  Another head shake.

  “Okay. This will feel cold for a minute.” He swabbed the cut down with iodine. “And you’ll feel a tiny pinch,” he said, before injecting the lidocaine, “but it will only last a second and then you won’t feel much of anything else. Maybe a little tugging here and there.”

  She nodded again, but kept her eyes closed. “Just tell me when it’s over.”

  David chuckled to himself. That she was willing to climb onto her roof to do a little pressure washing but couldn’t stand the sight of needles? Somehow it only made him like her more.

  Chapter 5

  Avery cracked one eyeball, peeking out at David’s face. If she looked at the stitches, at the actual needle going into and out of her flesh, she’d pass out for sure. But she could look at Dave’s face. It was a nice face.

  “Hey, you’re wearing different glasses.”

  David looked up and met her gaze. “Yeah. Do you . . . do you like them? My friend, Lucy, picked them out. Her husband is an optometrist and said something about them better complimenting my bone structure.” His cheeks turned red again. “Sorry. That was a lot of information. I should have just said thank you.”

  “Lucy was right,” Avery said. “They look good. They make you look older. In a good way, you know? More professional.”

  He swallowed and she watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “Thank you.”

  She closed her eyes again, sighing as she sank even further into the couch. “How am I doing?”

  “You’re doing great,” David said. “Just a few more and you’ll be all set.”

  “So
I’m venturing a guess that you’re not going to let me pay you for this,” Avery said.

  David grunted. “Absolutely not.” He patted her leg gently. “All finished. Just let me wrap it up for you. You’ll need to keep it clean and dry for ten days. Showers are fine after the first 48 hours, just dry it well and cover it afterwards.”

  She opened her eyes and watched as he put some gauze over the cut then wrapped a bandage around her leg to hold it in place. “You’re good at this.”

  David’s eyes lifted, but he didn’t quite smile. “This is probably the easiest part of what I do but thank you.”

  “Sure. But I can see you being very good with patients,” Avery said. “Putting them at ease.”

  “Once I convince them I’m really their doctor and not a first-year med student, I think I do okay.”

  Avery stretched her leg out in front of her, bending it at the knee, then extending it again.

  “How does it feel?” David lowered himself onto the couch beside her.

  She shifted to give him a little more room. She’d been taking her half of the couch out of the middle. “Good. I can’t feel anything, really.”

  “You probably will a little later. You can take some ibuprofen if it starts to feel sore.”

  Avery nodded. “Noted.” With her wound tended to and bandaged up, it was probably time for her to go. Instead, she pulled a throw pillow off of David’s couch, running her fingers over the loose weave of the yarn. “Did you always want to be a doctor growing up?” she asked, looking into the intense blue of his eyes.

  “Always,” he answered, his voice sure. “By the time I was four years old, I could already name every bone in the body, and identify all the body systems by name and function. I was obsessed.”

  “That’s unbelievable,” Avery said. “Your parents must not have known what to do with you.”

  He grinned. “It was definitely a struggle. My father’s also a physician, so he at least had the background to answer my endless questions.”

  “Are you close to your parents?” Avery maybe should have worried the question was too personal. Her friendship with David was still new, and she didn’t want her interest to suggest more. But he was easy to talk to. She sensed she could have asked him just about anything and he probably would have answered.

  “Pretty close,” David said. “I don’t see them very often. My father recently retired, so they’re traveling all the time now, but we talk every Sunday that I’m not at the hospital.”

  A twinge of something shot through Avery’s heart. She liked that David was close to his parents, that they talked on a regular basis. She only had one brother, and she’d never had any cousins growing up. When she dreamed of settling down, she always imagined marrying into a family that was large and welcoming and happy. “And you have the one sister, right?” Avery said. “Is that all?”

  “Three older sisters, actually. Two are married, with two kids a piece, and then the one just older than me is the one that did my house hunting for me. She lives over in Atlanta.”

  “So you’re the baby of the family.”

  David nodded. “Yep. And they never let me forget it.”

  Avery smiled wide. The idea of three older sisters hovering over David, caring about him made her happy. It was probably fun to see them all together.

  It occurred to her that she’d let her mind wander a little too far unchecked. Why was she thinking about David’s big family, relative to her own desire to marry into a big family?

  “If you aren’t going to let me pay you, you’ll have to let me do something else for you.”

  David shook his head. “It’s not that big a deal, Avery. I don’t mind.”

  “I know. But still. I’ll feel bad if I don’t do something.” An idea popped into Avery’s brain and before she could even really think about it long enough to decide if it was a good idea, she blurted it out. “Let me cook dinner for you.”

  He pursed his lips, lines creasing his forehead. But you said you didn’t want to date, she imagined him thinking. And dinner sounds very date-like.

  “Just something casual,” Avery said, hoping her enthusiasm would be enough to convince him. “Lowcountry style. When’s your next night off?”

  “Um, Tuesday, I think?”

  She nodded. “Tuesday works. Come over at eight?” She scooted forward on the couch. It was time to go, before she started asking David how many kids he hoped to have, or whether he was a dog or a cat person. David shot to his feet, offering her both of his hands. Avery gladly accepted his help, using him for balance as she maneuvered onto her one good leg. She took a tentative step forward, feeling a slight tugging where the stitches were, but no pain.

  “You okay?” he asked. “Why don’t you let me walk you home?”

  She shook her head. “I’m good. It actually doesn’t hurt at all.”

  David’s expression said he didn’t believe her. “I’d feel better if you let me at least see you to your front door. It’s dark outside. I don’t want you to hobble into a hole, or something.”

  “Yeah, that stretch of grass between my house and yours is pretty treacherous,” Avery joked.

  David rolled his eyes. “Listen, you-who-fell-off-your-roof, better safe than sorry.”

  Avery liked it when he teased her. It meant he’d completely forgotten to be nervous around her. “Fine. You can walk me home, Dr. Daniels. As long as you agree to dinner on Tuesday night.”

  “Right. Dinner. Eight o’clock,” he said, as he led her through the kitchen to his back door. There was a hint of confusion in his voice, like he still wasn’t sure why she’d asked him to dinner. That he wore it so openly rather than try and play it cool, like he’d expected the invitation, was so completely endearing, Avery almost wanted to hug him.

  They walked in silence to Avery’s back door, David only having to steady her once when she’d slipped on a patch of wet grass. “Thanks for walking me home,” she said. “And thank you for taking care of me. For everything.”

  He nodded. “No problem.”

  She opened the door to go inside, but David called her back. “Avery, wait.”

  She turned to face him.

  “This is just a friend dinner, right?”

  The way he stood there, so open and honest and adorable with his new glasses and slightly mussed up hair—maybe it could be a date. Maybe she even wanted it to be. But then Tucker flashed into her mind. He’d been texting her a lot lately. Flirting a lot. She had to see if there was something to it.

  “Just a friend dinner,” she agreed.

  He nodded, though she didn’t miss the flash of disappointment that flitted across his face. “Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”

  Chapter 6

  David paced back and forth in his kitchen, his eyes glued to the glowing green numbers on the front of his microwave. 7:48. How had it been 7:48 for twenty straight minutes? He couldn’t show up early. If he’d learned anything from the one serious relationship he’d ever been a part of, it was that showing up early to someone’s home was not the same thing as showing up early to a restaurant or a business meeting.

  Needing a change of scenery, he pushed open his back door and stepped onto his back porch, then immediately darted back inside. Avery was outside in her yard. With a guy.

  David moved to his living room window, and peeked through his blinds, his body angled so that even if Avery looked directly at his house, she wouldn’t notice him spying. The thought made him cringe and he turned away.

  Was he really spying? Would he stoop so low?

  Just one more look, a short one, and then he’d turn away. The man had his arms around Avery’s waist, his head just inches from her ear. She smiled and laughed, clearly amused by whatever he had said, then moved like she wanted to push him away. He caught her arms, tugging her even closer in a move that looked a little too controlling to David, but Avery didn’t resist. When the man leaned in to kiss her, she really didn’t resist. There was an obvious familiarity
to the way they moved together; this wasn’t their first kiss. The man had to be the old boyfriend Avery had mentioned.

  Jealousy flared in David’s gut and he tried and failed to stamp it out. What was the point? He was in an entirely different league than the guy that held Avery in his arms. They fit together. Looked good together. Had the same sun-bleached hair and tan skin that made them look like beach native Charlestonians. David’s gaze dropped to the man’s pressed khaki shorts and deck shoes. Yep. Definitely a local.

  David sighed and moved away from the window. Back in the kitchen, the clock finally read eight o’clock. He hesitated. Better to be late and avoid the old boyfriend? Or be right on time and risk an awkward confrontation?

  The clock flipped over to 8:01.

  David tensed. He was never late for anything.

  With a final exasperated sigh, he pushed out the back door, closing it firmly behind him. He’d deal with the old boyfriend. He wasn’t going to disrespect Avery by being late.

  The grass in his back yard felt spongy and damp under his flip flops, something he’d learned was typical in the Lowcountry. In some places, the ground was always wet. Living at sea level was such a different experience than living in Chicago.

  Avery was no longer in her backyard, so David angled toward the front of her house, intending to knock on her front door like a normal house guest. For a brief moment, he hoped the boyfriend would already be gone but when he reached the side of Avery’s driveway, he saw them there, standing together, leaning into the side of the man’s car.

  Avery’s back was to him, but the boyfriend saw him right away. For a split second, his gaze narrowed, but then he pasted on a practiced smile. “You must be David,” the guy said. He shifted away from Avery and extended his hand. “Tucker King. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Avery turned to face him. “David,” she said with a smile. “Is it eight o’clock already?”

  David glanced at his watch. “Three past, actually.” David returned Tucker’s handshake. “David Daniels,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”