Christmas Lovebirds

by Rachelle Ayala

  Buddies. Sure. More like bed buddies. Not that I care. Typical firemen. Big flirts flashing big muscles.

  One look at the automatic doors to the ER and Melisa’s stomach lurched. Her heart strained at the leash and she wanted to sink into her seat to avoid being seen.

  Dr. Rob Reed, Connor’s ex-best-buddy, star of her fantasy romances, and the real reason she was San Francisco’s oldest virgin, was pushing a gurney into the ER.

  # # #

  Rob rushed from exam room to exam room, flashing in and out of the curtained areas. A multiple vehicle pileup brought in blunt force trauma victims while a bar fight and shooting overwhelmed them with penetrating wounds.

  He’d been at it for over seven hours, and it was already past midnight.

  “What you got there?” He washed his hands as Duke, one of the nurses, handed him a chart.

  “Last hour. Figure I’d slow down your pace.”

  “Oh no, don’t give me the belly pains and nosebleeds. Haven’t these people heard of urgent care?” Rob’s adrenaline was jumping through the ceiling, and the last thing he needed was a lady complaining about her bunions.

  “Possible concussion and broken hand. I sent her in for X-rays already. Her firefighter boyfriend insisted she be seen. They’ve been waiting for hours.”

  Rob forced a grin on his face. “Yeah, we do everything for firemen. They’re the good guys.”

  Except they all hate my guts if they’re Connor’s friend.

  “Anyone we know?” Rob dried his hands.

  “The bird or the boyfriend?”

  Bird. Now that’s an odd word for female. But then not any different from chick. Duke has been watching too many gangster movies.

  “The fireman.” Rob’s heart tap-danced against his ribcage. Hopefully it wasn’t Connor Hart, the man who’d once been his best buddy but now hated the ground he walked on.

  “Larry Davison. The guy with the torn up knee.”

  Whew, only Connor’s current best friend. Larry was the only guy who was willing to give him a nod. Of course, his saving Larry’s life might have made a slight difference in attitude.

  “Got it.” Rob took the chart and stepped into the exam room.

  Instead of the burly fireman hovering over his girlfriend, Melisa Hart sat on the examination table, all alone. Three thoughts ran through his mind, in no particular order.

  1. What the heck? She’s dating Larry?

  2. Oh crap. She hates me. Her entire family does.

  3. Wow, she’s hotter than I remember.

  Chapter Three

  Melisa drew the hospital gown tighter over her chest as she came face to face with Rob Reed, the boy who’d hung out at her house as far back as she could remember until it all ended ten years ago when he’d slept with her brother Connor’s girlfriend.

  Only the man in front of her was no longer a boy, and if he was cute as a teen, he was now devastatingly handsome and much taller than she remembered. His dark brown hair was cropped short, showing every angle and chisel of his manly face. He was not brawny like Larry, but slender and fit, and his eyes still held a hint of the mischief he’d gotten into all those years ago when he was a fixture at her home.

  Rob hesitated one moment before the professional doctor’s demeanor replaced the momentary confusion—or was it something else?—that had flashed on his face.

  He held out his hand. “Dr. Reed, and excuse me if I don’t ask if you had a nice day. So, tell me what happened.”

  Of course. Rob had no idea he was the centerpiece of the longest running crush this side of the Bay. Melisa had no memory that didn’t involve Rob, the boy Connor met his first day at preschool. Rob also had no clue the lengths Melisa had gone to get herself included in their trips and outings. She’d even endured a fishhook in her thumb so Rob could be the hero of the day, and she’d have an excuse to give him a thank-you kiss.

  Tentatively, she presented her hand, and he grasped it. Warm and firm. She didn’t want to let go.

  “Melisa Hart,” she breathed rather than said. “I sort of fell off a table.”

  Oh, dud. Dumbest thing ever.

  “And what were you doing on the table? Not that it’s any of my business.” A blush spread over his cheeks.

  Where had that come from? He couldn’t have thought she’d been … oh, no.

  “No, no. I was standing on the table.”

  For some reason, Rob’s lips spread into a sly grin. “Standing? That’s something new.”

  What was he thinking she was up to? Melisa rubbed her sweaty palms on the hospital gown and wet her lips. Could he be flirting with her? But she’d always been the baby sister. Off-limits. He hadn’t even accepted the thank-you kiss for the fishhook extraction.

  “Actually, I was standing because my bird flew up onto the light bar. You know the kind that are suspended and when there’s an earthquake everyone looks up to see if the lights are swinging?”

  “Yes, yes, I know.” The doctor’s eyes widened, and he quickly flipped through her charts, as if checking to see whether she was pulling his leg.

  I’d sure like to pull another part of his anatomy, Melisa thought, although being a virgin meant she had no clue how.

  “So wait, if I understand, you’re saying your bird flew onto the overhead lights?”

  “Exactly, and I was hoping she’d fly to me and land on my finger, but she was too scared.”

  “So, you fell.”

  “Yes, I fell.”

  Why was he staring at her as if she were an alien from another planet? Melisa knew why she stared into Rob’s dark brown eyes. She’d always wanted to be this close to him, but why did he look both shocked and sad?

  “Are you going to examine me?” Her voice came out too sultry and seductive. Great scot. Hopefully he didn’t think she was coming on to him. “I mean, that’s what you’re here for, right?”

  “Sure, yes, of course.” Rob put the folder down and drew his stethoscope over his ears. He moved her gown aside, exposing the swell of her breasts, and Melisa told herself he was only doing his job. He rubbed his hand over the cold metal of the stethoscope and warmed it before placing it on her chest.

  Le sigh. Melisa’s insides went all warm and bubbly. Rob was so close to her, she could feel his pulse, smell the faint trace of cologne under the grime of the hospital, and practically taste his breath as it fanned over her hair. And to think he’d warmed the stethoscope for her.

  “Cough,” he ordered.

  “Ahem.” She forced out a cough.

  Gently, he moved the metal piece from her front to her back and asked her to take deep breaths.

  How could she keep from panting when he was touching her like he knew her?

  “Will I live, doctor?” Melisa raised her eyes.

  Any traces of humor were gone as he returned her gaze. “Your pulse is a little elevated. Good strong heartbeat. You’ll live.”

  He opened the folder and made a note. “Now I’ll examine your hand. The X-rays show you have two broken fingers, your ring finger and your pinkie. How do they feel?”

  “Hurts a lot.”

  He took her hand and pressed gently over the knuckles and inside her palm until she winced.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I’ll put them in a splint. I see they gave you ice in the waiting room and that’s good. Keep icing it and wear the splint. I’ll want to see you back in a week. We don’t want the joint to develop stiffness from being held in that position too long.”

  “You mean, I should come back to see you?” Melisa widened her eyes. “Here, at the ER?”

  He wiped his forehead and shook his head. “Long night. I meant a follow up with orthopedics. I’ll write you a referral. Next, let’s talk about your head injury. Your chart says you were out for an unspecified number of minutes.”

  # # #

  What was wrong with him? Rob couldn’t form his thoughts and his tongue was too big for his mouth. Sweat broiled under his collar, and Melisa’s pouty, pink lips were distrac
ting the heck out of him. How was he supposed to concentrate on examining her hand when all he wanted was to kiss her and make everything okay again?

  She had no idea how much she’d blossomed in the ten years since he’d last seen her. She would have been around fifteen and he was nineteen. Nineteen and stupid.

  Even as a teen, Melisa had been a looker. Curly blond hair framed her pretty pink face. Light brown eyes that lit like whiskey in a glass and a laugh both sweet and musical. She had a soft femininity covering a steely and determined young lady. A rarity these days.

  She’d also been strictly off-limits.

  If she was pretty before, she was a heartthrob now, and every man’s vision of a sweetheart worth fighting for. Except he was in the doghouse where she was concerned. Double doghouse. It wasn’t just him being persona non grata at the Harts, but he was also Lovebone, the guy on the parrot forum who’d told her, HaveAHart, to get a fireman when she’d asked for help.

  And oh, she’d gotten herself a fireman all right.

  Larry “Big-D” Davison, the former defensive linebacker turned firefighting hero, was out in the waiting room, ready to take her home.

  “How long were you out?” Rob forced himself to stay in doctor mode, despite the chilly waters flooding his heart. What chance did he, a nerdy doctor have against big hunks of brawn and the hero types of men she was used to?

  “I don’t know.” Melisa’s eyelids fluttered as he checked her eyes with a penlight. “I’m guessing not long. The first thing I saw was the mustache of the guy who rescued me. I remember thinking it was a caterpillar. But I’m really fine.”

  “Any dizziness? Lightheadedness?” He tapped her reflexes. All good.

  She took a deep breath and shook her head slightly. Her lips curled into a smile. “Unless you’re talking about right now.”

  “Right now?” His voice hitched. “Are you feeling faint? Do you want to lie down?”

  “No, Doctor. I was joking.” She rolled her tongue into her cheek and frowned. “I’m perfectly fine. No headache, no double vision.”

  “Great.” He made a note in her chart. Now came the question he hated to ask, primarily because musclehead out there would get first dibs. “Is there a friend or someone who can observe you for the next twenty-four hours?”

  “I live alone.”

  “Then in that case, we’ll have to hold you overnight.”

  “Wait, no. I have someone. Besides, someone has to take care of my bird.”

  “Right, is your bird okay?”

  “Yes, she’s fine. Just afraid to fly.” Melisa chuckled, a little forced. “I guess it’s time for a wing trim.”

  Rob’s blood boiled deep in his gut. A wing trim was like sentencing a bird to a wheelchair.

  “Does your bird have any other problems? Issues?”

  She lifted her eyebrows and rolled her eyes. “Dr. Reed. I didn’t take you to be a bird doctor. But no, Cassie’s a sweet little bird, well adjusted, fun and playful.”

  “Good.” Rob scribbled on his prescription pad for painkillers. “Take as needed, and do keep that appointment in a week. I know Christmas is around the corner, but this is important. In the meantime, have a wonderful weekend.”

  Rob had to get out of the exam room. Melisa might have pressed all his buttons, and he’d be lying to himself if he wasn’t attracted to her, but …

  1. She’s off-limits. She’s a patient and Connor’s sister.

  2. She’s dating a firefighter, a real hero.

  3. She’s mistreating her poor little bird by clipping her wings.

  Chapter Four

  Fog hung low the next morning, as it often did in the Inner Sunset district of San Francisco where Melisa’s family lived, all within a few blocks of each other.

  Ella carried Cassie inside her birdcage as she and Melisa made their way down the hill toward the The Love Bean coffee shop. The eccentric café was a holdout in the neighborhood, one of the last remaining mom-and-pop businesses in a sea of Starbucks and Peet’s.

  “So, what’s with you and Larry?” Ella asked. “I can’t believe you let him spend the night.”

  “I kind of had no choice.”

  “Even with your big Irish family?” Ella quirked an eyebrow. “How come none of them would help, especially since they all live so close?”

  “It’s suspicious, to say the least,” Melisa muttered under her breath. It wasn’t that they didn’t care. The problem was they cared too much—about her love life, or lack thereof.

  After Larry had brought Melisa home from the hospital the night before, she’d insisted she didn’t need him, that she’d call one of her brothers for observation, or her mother, or even dear old dad, a retired fire chief.

  Except, the firehouse grapevine had already informed everyone that her knight in shining armor was Big D, and they’d all begged off and left her to her own devices—with Larry. So, good old Larry had pulled out a blanket and slept at the foot of her bed, like a loyal wolfhound. He’d dutifully set the alarm on his phone and had awakened her every two hours to ask her questions.

  “Who’s the governor of California?”

  Moonbeam? “Brown.”

  “What year is it?”

  The year I lose my virginity? “2015.”

  “What’s your favorite ice cream?”

  Death by chocolate. “Vanilla.”

  “What’s your full name?”

  Melisa Christine Reed. “Melisa Christine Hart.”

  “Who’s your favorite fireman?”

  That last one had earned Larry a groan and a pillow toss, after which she’d recited her social security number, named the Beatles, Ringo, Paul, George, and John. How was that for ancient history? And spelled Czechoslovakia for good measure.

  Ella raised Cassie’s birdcage to eye level. “Cassie, see what you made Mummy do? Spend the night with Larry D, the hero of the Hart clan.”

  Melisa rolled her eyes at the hero bit. Not that she wasn’t appreciative or grateful, but when she’d grown up in a household full of muscle, with enough biceps, triceps, and abs to fill a two-year fireman’s calendar, she was immune to men flexing and posing to get her attention.

  “How together were you? Did he get bed privileges?” Nosy Ella continued to prod as they crossed a street and approached the coffee shop.

  “Not anywhere close, but his head’s gotten bigger because of this.” Melisa tucked her throbbing hand into her pocket. The fog rarely lifted until noontime, and the painkillers weren’t helping the fog in her brain either.

  “I won’t say any more to your virginal ears.” Ella chuckled. She opened the door, jingling the bells that hung over the mistletoe.

  “I’m so groggy not even this wonderful coffee can wake me.” Melisa propped herself on a stool at the coffee bar while Ella set Cassie and her cage on the counter.

  “Hey, girls, how’s it going?” Jason, the dreadlocked barista, swooped toward them. “Pretty bird. Can you talk?”

  “She says a few words.” Melisa made smooching sounds.

  “Kissee? Kissee?” the little bird said in a warbling high-pitched squeak, drawing out the second syllable with an accent so it sounded like a question.

  “Let me try that.” Jason leaned toward the cage and made smooching sounds.

  Instead of talking, Cassie backed away and huffed, hissing.

  “You’re welcome,” Jason said, huffing back. “Okay, what are you ladies having, and what the heck happened to your hand?”

  “Long story.” Melisa yawned. “I broke it trying to catch my bird.”

  They ordered their double espressos, and Jason gave the stink eye to Cassie before strutting to the espresso machine.

  “So, if you’re not into Larry, what about Rob?” Ella perched herself across from Cassie. “I know you’re dying to tell me about him playing doctor with you last night.”

  “Here you go, girls.” The barista slid the two ceramic cups, arched his eyebrows and returned to the cash register.

  “
Thanks.” Melisa raised the hot coffee to her face and inhaled the steamy aroma. “There’s not much to tell. He was strictly professional. Actually, I’m over him. It was just a silly teenage crush. I can never forgive him for sleeping with Connor’s girlfriend.”

  “Yeah, wasn’t her name Elaine? Whatever happened to her?” Ella mused, stirring sugar into her coffee.

  “Orthopedic surgeon. Has a thriving practice full of professional athletes. Connor’s still holding a flame for her, not that she encourages him.”

  “I wonder why she and Rob never got together after that one night?” Ella blew the steam from her coffee and sipped. “They have a lot in common, both doctors.”

  “Guess she wasn’t into him.”

  “Or vice versa. Seems you have a chance,” Ella said. “Why don’t you come with me to the Reed Christmas Tree Farm and we can strategize? I’ll drive since you broke your hand, and you can sit in the back with Bree. She’s so excited that her teacher will be there with her bird. She says she’s sorry about being bad in class yesterday.”

  “She wasn’t bad. Just a little excited about the bird.” Melisa smiled at the memory of Bree’s observations. “But I’m too grumpy and tired to go. Lack of sleep, taking painkillers. Wouldn’t make a good impression on my students’ parents.”

  “You do look like something the cat dragged in.” Ella finished her coffee. “We’ll talk later.”

  “Thanks for taking Cassie. Tell Bree she can let Cassie step up onto her finger and take as many pictures as she wants.” Melisa stifled a yawn, despite the caffeine she poured into her veins. “Besides, Reed Tree Farm means it’ll be crawling with Reeds, and Rob is a Reed.”

  “Got it. The last thing you want is to let a Reed rob your heart.”

  # # #

  At the Reed Tree Farm Toy Drive, Rob twirled his lovebird, Casey, on a string, looping him over and over as the little bird hung on with his beak.

  The children around him cheered and clapped.

  “Can I try? Please, please?” A little blond girl with a lime green Sherpa’s knit hat raised her hand.

  “He only does this trick with me,” Rob said. “There’s a certain level of trust a bird develops with his person. But hold out your finger, and I’ll let him fly to you.”