by BJ Wane
“Glad my mishap could entertain everyone. Trust me, Mitchell wasn’t entertained.” And why that caused her chest to tighten, she hadn’t a clue.
“Now that I believe. Our good doctor likes to keep his distance.”
“Except at your club?”
Nan shrugged. “Well, yeah. There, he gives his play partner his full attention and no one has walked away from a scene unhappy. He’s still grieving for his wife.”
Liana’s laughing face popped into Lillian’s head and a pang gripped her stomach. Grief she could commiserate with and now understood Mitchell’s compassionate patience with her presence better. It seemed they shared one thing in common after all. “Yeah,” she sighed, “that must be rough.”
Mitchell returned to his Craftsman house on an acre of land just inside Willow Springs city limits Saturday morning, a day earlier than he’d planned, and he wasn’t happy about it. Grabbing his duffel out of the back of his Tahoe, he flicked the garage door opener before walking out and crossing the drive to enter the house through the side door. After cranking up the heat, he poured himself a stiff whiskey and padded over to an eight-by-ten-inch picture of Abbie perched on the fireplace mantle. The quiet retreat he’d planned around their anniversary had been interrupted and then, because he was spending more time thinking about a pair of haunted purple eyes instead of his wife’s loving blue gaze, frustration prompted him to cut it short. And that did not sit well with him.
He’d met Abbie at a Valentine’s party at a Denver club, married her on February fourteenth a year later and she died on February fifteenth seven years after that. Eight years was not enough; at the time, he’d thought a lifetime wouldn’t be enough. Looking at her shy expression, cloud of blonde hair and bright blue eyes, she was nothing like Lillian, and yet, he found himself comparing the two women way too much after saying goodbye to Lillian.
The flashes of pain-driven determination he’d caught crossing her bruised face more than once got to him in a way he couldn’t define, at least, not yet. Whatever the extent of that bastard’s abuse, she didn’t cower from it, and he didn’t care for the pinch of guilt pricking his conscience whenever he questioned whether he should have pressed her for answers. None of my business. That’s what he’d been telling himself since bringing her into his cabin. He didn’t want to get involved with her or her problems, so why had he wrestled with sleep the past few nights, and why couldn’t he shove aside the regret and shame he’d caught in her dark eyes before she would don a polite mask of indifference?
“You know, baby,” he murmured to Abbie’s picture as he traced a finger over her face, “I think you would have liked Lillian’s grit in the face of her trauma. You were always more compassionate than me.”
Mitchell remembered Lillian’s anger when he’d called her baby, and the defiance etched on her pale face as she lay in the snow under him and refuted being raped. He wasn’t a shrink, but there was no arguing the woman was bottled up tight in denial. But again, not his problem. She was likely gone by now, hundreds of miles away and possibly giving him the finger in the rearview mirror. Why that image tugged at the corners of his mouth, he couldn’t imagine.
Tossing back his whiskey, he strode to the antique roll top desk in the corner and flipped through a week’s worth of mail. Seeing nothing pressing, he considered giving his mother a call and then opted to put it off until the next day. He and his sister couldn’t have asked for better parents growing up, and now that his dad was gone and he’d made the move to Montana, he made sure he kept in touch with both of them.
Mitchell grabbed his bag of dirty clothes and carried it into the laundry room off the kitchen, which was in the middle of a renovation. He’d purchased the dated house for a good price and spent his down time remodeling, which was why it was taking so long. He’d left Denver, and his prestigious position as the head of a trauma center, for a slower, calmer pace of life, hoping the drastic change would help him move on from losing Abbie. Now, over eight months later, the jury was still out on whether that was the right decision.
After starting a load of wash, Mitchell debated whether to go out for something to eat or settle for a frozen dinner and opted for the diner, which was as good as a home-cooked meal. Afterward, maybe he would drive out to The Barn and socialize. He enjoyed his new friends and their private club even more than the people and venue he’d left behind. Here, there were no pitying looks or well-meaning condolences that kept his grief at the forefront. The changes he’d made in his life hadn’t been easy, but overall, the small town of Willow Springs and the people who welcomed him into their close-knit group were proving a good fit for him.
Neither snow nor frigid temperatures kept people home much in Montana, as demonstrated when Mitchell parked in front of Dale’s Diner an hour later and he could see the Saturday night crowd through the window. Hungry for Gertie’s chicken fried steak smothered in cream gravy, he entered the diner looking for an empty seat or someone he could join at their table. Instead, his eyes zeroed in on the woman perched at the counter, her cascade of dark auburn hair familiar enough to give him a jolt.
Why the hell was Lillian Gillespie still in town?
“Grab that last stool at the counter, Doc, and I’ll be right with you,” Barbara, the waitress tossed out as she breezed by him carrying a laden tray. “We’re swamped tonight.”
“Thanks, and no hurry, Barbara.” Seeing no way out of it, not if he wanted to eat tonight, Mitchell slid onto the seat next to Lillian, removed his hat and tunneled his fingers through his hair. Her small gasp indicated she was as surprised to see him as he was at finding her here. “Didn’t Mort get your car fixed?” Those striking eyes narrowed, and her soft lips tightened in annoyance. Yeah, that sounded rude, but he’d been unprepared for his gut-wrenching reaction at seeing her again.
“Yes, he did. I wasn’t aware that meant I had to leave right away,” she stated in a frigid tone.
He sighed, reaching up to squeeze her shoulder. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I wasn’t expecting to see you here, is all.”
She shrugged under his hand and averted her eyes. “I didn’t plan on sticking around, but I met a few people who convinced me this was a nice place to hang for a while.” She faced him again, a rueful smile tugging at her lips. “Don’t worry, Doctor Hoffstetter, I promise not to intrude on your space.”
Gertie snatched a steaming plate off the ledge and set it down in front of Lillian in time to hear her remark. Scowling, she pointed a finger at Mitchell. “Are you being rude to one of my customers?”
“No, ma’am, I leave that up to you,” he drawled. “I’d like the chicken fried steak with the works, please.”
“Hmmph, as if I didn’t already know that.” Turning her back on them, she called out, “Get me another special, Ed!”
A wide smile lightened Lillian’s face and Mitchell was taken aback by how it transformed her from cute to eye-catching attractive. The smattering of freckles decorating her pert nose below her large, expressive eyes added to the overall appeal of her looks, but the fading, yellow-tinged bruises reminded him of her troubles.
“She’s one of the reasons I like coming in here. I get a kick out of her. She has a knack for making you feel welcome while grumbling.” Looking at her plate filled with meatloaf, baked potato and green beans, Lillian added, “And she insists on giving me enough food for three meals.”
Thinking to make up for his earlier insensitivity, he waited until she swallowed a bite of meatloaf before running a finger over her marred cheek. “Want me to beat him up for you?”
She leaned into his hand without realizing it and Mitchell’s cock stirred with an unwelcome quick jolt of lust. “Not necessary but thanks.”
Controlling himself, he trailed his finger down to the small cut in the corner of her mouth. “The person who did this, was he a friend then lover before revealing his true nature? That’s often how abusive relationships begin.”
She paled at that question and
then reddened as she moved her head enough to lose his touch. “He’s an asshole who enjoys wielding power over people to get what he wants.”
Shame colored her tone and the urge to pound on something tightened his abdomen in a response he understood and accepted. “And he wanted you. Did your relationship with him have anything to do with your sister’s death?” The spasm of grief that turned Lillian’s eyes watery cut Mitchell to the quick. He knew how a casual inquiry could stir up the misery of loss. Maybe he wasn’t the one to get her to open up and face her demons.
The doctor couldn’t have asked a better question to defuse Lillian’s heated response to seeing him again. Every cell in her body had gone on high alert when he’d taken a seat next to her, his large body so close all she could think about was when he’d set aside his irritation long enough to help her cope with her sorrow. She blinked back the tears before they fell and strove to get herself under control. His question hit too near to the truth for comfort. Brad might not have been directly responsible for Liana’s death, but she would always blame him for taking advantage of her sister’s medical condition to get what he wanted from Lillian. She’d caved to his blackmail because he’d left her no choice, but that didn’t lessen the shame of putting up with his abuse for those four weeks instead of telling him to go to Hell.
“I don’t want to discuss him, or Liana.”
Mitchell was diverted from answering when Ed, one of the cooks, called out, “Order up!” Gertie plucked the plate off the shelf and set it in front of him without a word before shuffling down the counter to another customer.
Cutting into his meat, he nodded, saying, “Good enough, but you should talk to someone.” She opened her mouth to retort it was none of his business but he cut her off with a piercing look. “Eat before it gets cold.”
“I see you’re as bossy as you were at the cabin.” Nonetheless, she was hungry and turned her attention back to her food.
“It comes with being responsible for people’s health.”
Thanks to Nan telling her about their private club, Lillian knew that wasn’t the whole of it. That bossy dominance extended past his patients’ wellbeing. Wasn’t it bad enough her imagination had run rampant the past few days with picturing this man at a kink club dishing out erotic torment on trussed up women? Must she suffer his close presence and those narrow-eyed, probing looks that stirred her in odd, new ways again? She supposed if she was going to stick around Willow Springs for another few weeks she should get used to running into the well-liked doctor. With the town population just over seven thousand, there would be no avoiding him unless she planned to stay holed up in the motel room. After visiting all the local shops, meeting the friendly, welcoming townsfolk and sharing afternoon tea with Nan the last four days, the thought of keeping to herself held no appeal.
“That might be part of it, Doc, but not all. I’m not your patient now,” she said before diving into the creamy mound of potatoes. If she kept eating in the diner every night, she was going to have to buy a whole new wardrobe soon.
“Yes, you are. In fact, since you intend to stay longer, why don’t you come to the clinic on Monday? I’d like to confirm my diagnosis by getting x-rays of your ribs. Are you still at the motel?”
“Yes, but I suppose it would be cheaper to find a short-term rental until I make some decisions. And I’m fine,” she insisted. “I don’t need x-rays.”
What I don’t need is his hands on me again. So far, she couldn’t forget that one hour and the multiple orgasms he wrung from her, or the surprising stimulation of those butt slaps and nipple pinches. That wasn’t like her. There’d never been a man she couldn’t walk away from, or a sexual encounter she couldn’t easily forget once it was over. That he was the first man to leave a lasting impression made her uneasy since he was so far removed from the type she was usually drawn to.
“I’ll make you a deal.” Don’t do it. Mitchell’s inner warning voice had him pausing, but only for a second. Lillian still winced when she moved, and that worried him, but admitted that was no reason to offer her the apartment above his garage while she was in town. So why was he opening his mouth to do just that? “I have a small studio apartment above my garage. You’re free to use it in exchange for coming by next week and getting those x-rays. What do you say?”
He held his breath as she looked at him with suspicion. “You couldn’t wait to get me out of your cabin.”
“That was my private retreat during some much-needed alone time. The garage is separate from the house. You won’t have to see me except for one visit to the clinic.” He shrugged with a sigh, as much in wonder at himself for the offer as to convey it was no big deal to ease her mind. “It’ll save you some money and maybe make it easier to take your time deciding where you want to go from here. But, I’ll hold you to coming by for a checkup.”
Lillian toyed with her green beans, took a drink of water and then finally nodded her head. “Okay, it’s a deal.”
Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a note pad and jotted down his address and the easy directions to his place from the motel. He handed the paper and a key to her. “I’ll be gone until early afternoon tomorrow, so if you come on over after one, I’ll help you upstairs with your things.”
“This is nice of you. Thank you.”
He could tell she was as unsure about accepting the offer as he was about making it. Maybe that was why he found it easier to justify his uncharacteristic gesture. Or maybe it was time he quit letting his grief keep him from putting himself out for others.
“You can thank me by getting those x-rays.” Mitchell was sure he could put Lillian and the need she didn’t know was reflected on her face every time her sister or the ass that abused her was mentioned out of his mind once he confirmed her physical well-being.
Chapter 6
Nan’s eyes widened in surprise as she handed Lillian the steaming teacup and then settled on the chair across the table from her. “Are you honestly going to sit there and continue to insist there’s nothing between you and Mitchell?”
“I think she is,” Avery answered when Lillian shook her head. “Deny it all you want, Lillian, but for a man who doesn’t get involved on a personal level with anyone, an offer to stay in his apartment from our sexy doctor is huge.”
“It’s only for a short time, and the apartment is above his detached garage. I haven’t seen him all week, so it’s not like we’re bumping into each other all the time.” Lillian sipped the cinnamon flavored black tea, enjoying the flavor more than her new friend’s inquisitiveness. She winced as she realized she hadn’t kept her side of their bargain yet by making an appointment with Mitchell for a checkup.
Last Sunday, she had moved into the apartment without waiting for his help. Not only did it go against her independent nature to idly sit back at his insistence when there was no need, but every time she was around the man, her libido took over her common sense and threw her emotions and her body into turmoil. Didn’t she have enough on her mind with coming to terms with the loss of her twin and the degradation of sharing Brad’s bed after his abuse to keep Liana safe from his threats? It still baffled her how she could have responded without hesitation to Mitchell’s touch so soon after walking away from that jerk. Still, she would have to find time to stop in at the clinic and keep her promise to get those x-rays.
“Just the invitation to stay on his property is enough to tweak our curiosity. He’s friendly and all, but so far he’s kept himself at arm’s length from the members at the club he’s scened with, and hasn’t accepted any invitations to socialize outside of the club,” Nan said.
Uncomfortable with the way her stomach knotted at the mention of Mitchell with those other women, Lillian shifted on the seat and toyed with the dainty teacup handle as she replied, “Sorry to burst your bubble yet again, but we’re just friendly acquaintances.”
Avery and Nan exchanged a look and Avery shrugged, saying, “That’s too bad. We were hoping you might be the one to he
lp him get over losing his wife.”
Lillian sat back, releasing her breath on a sigh. That was a turn in the conversation she could relate to and felt the need to defend Mitchell. “Having just lost my twin sister and only relative, I can tell you it’s not easy to move on. I can’t imagine losing a spouse, but you two should understand how he might feel.”
Both girls paled slightly. “You’re right, Lillian. Dan and I were friends and occasional lovers for five years, but now that we’re in love, being without him is unimaginable,” Nan admitted.
“Yeah, what Nan said. Other than the social worker who would take me in whenever my mom went back to drinking and couldn’t take care of me, I was alone in the world until I came here and met Grayson and then everyone else. I’m sorry for your loss, Lillian. Losing a twin must be awful.” Avery reached over and squeezed her arm and Lillian blinked back the tears that could still form and blur her vision with little provocation. “Okay, let’s talk about something else. If you’re not busy a week from tomorrow night, our friend, Sydney said to invite you for chili at their ranch. It’s just us and Tamara and Connor.”
The invitation spread a pleasant glow through Lillian, who was touched at being included. It would be nice not to spend an evening alone, missing Liana so much she ached and coping with the loss of the only close, special relationship she’d ever had. She hurried to accept before the lifestyle they shared in common and she knew little about and had no interest in gave her pause.
“Thank you, if you’re sure your friend doesn’t mind. I could pick up a bottle of wine. Oh, sorry, Avery. I assume you’re not drinking for the next few months,” she said, remembering her pregnancy.
Nan spoke up before Avery could answer. “She’s not, and neither are Sydney and Tamara, but I am and I say, yes please.”
Avery gave her a mock glare. “You just wait. We have plans to get even.” Turning to Lillian, she said, “She’s rubbed it in at every girl’s night since Sydney and Tamara got pregnant eight months ago.”