“Missed my calling?” he asked.
“Maybe you should have gone into real estate. Buying and selling property seems up your alley—no pun intended.”
He smiled and shook his head. “Not for me. Too much pressure.”
“And helping a child who’s having difficulty breathing isn’t full of stress?”
“That’s different.”
“What makes it different?” When he stared at her, she added, “Although I think you’d be successful at anything you tried, you’ve really got a flair for the medical profession.”
“What makes you say that?”
“For one thing, you’re a legend at Mercy Medical Center.” She remembered their first face-to-face meeting in her office after she’d started her job. It wasn’t easy to meet a legend on his turf.
“Legend?” One corner of his mouth quirked up as a teasing look slid into his eyes. “That really makes me feel old. I don’t think I’ve reached the minimum age requirement for legend status.”
“That condition is waived when everyone talks about you in reverent whispers and awed tones.”
“Oh, please—”
“Seriously,” she protested. “When I was going through the interview process for my job, the board of directors spoke about you as if you had wings, a halo and walked on water. And before you ask, that doesn’t mean I’ll authorize the necessary funds for ECMO.”
“When they interviewed you, did the powers that be know we were divorced?” he asked wryly.
“I figured it was best to keep that to myself.”
He nodded proudly. “Smart.”
“Takes one to know one. But there’s more to being a good doctor than brains.” She’d seen him today with the kids. His dedication was as vivid as his blue eyes. He truly cared about their health. It was more than dealing with one medical crisis after another. Their whole lives and the quality of them was important to him. “So, why did you become a doctor, instead of, say, a real estate agent?”
He shrugged. “I’m good in science and math. Seemed like a good fit.”
“With those skills you could have gone into teaching. Engineering. Almost anything. But you didn’t. It’s more than that.”
“It’s just a job.”
She’d heard all this before and let him get away without answering the question. Not this time. “To do what you do is a special calling, separate from the other qualifications you have. I’d really like to know what made you want to be a doctor, Nick. And before you come up with something witty to distract me, you should know that it’s not going to work. I’m prepared to sit here until I get what I want.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely.” She pushed her empty salad bowl away, then folded her arms over her chest and gave him her very best I-can-wear-you-down look.
It took several moments for him to surrender, but finally he nodded. “You know I had a stepbrother.”
“Yes. Todd.”
“Yeah.” The dark, brooding expression was back. “We were complete opposites. He was sickly, I was an athlete. All we had in common was that neither of us was very happy about our folks getting married.”
“But?” she pushed.
“Somehow we bonded. Probably because of a shared hostility toward the parents. He was funny and smart. He called me on my crap and became the little brother I’d never had.”
“You still miss him.” Ryleigh wasn’t asking. His eyes said it all. “How did he die?”
“Todd had cystic fibrosis.”
“Obviously I’ve heard of it, but I don’t know much about the disease,” she said.
“Most patients are diagnosed by age two. It’s caused by a defective gene and its protein product causes the body to produce unusually thick, sticky mucus. It clogs the lungs and leads to life-threatening infections. Todd’s life expectancy was always a question mark, but no one figured he would die so young. In the last twenty years, therapies and medications have prolonged patient’s lives by years—possibly indefinitely. If he’d survived, there’s no telling…”
She’d known his brother died, but Nick would never talk about what happened. Now she knew, but Nick was still holding back. The dark intensity on his face was a giveaway.
Without consciously intending to, she reached over and put her hand on his. She could almost feel how much he wanted to turn it over, palm up, and swallow her fingers in his. “What is it, Nick? There’s more, isn’t there? Talk to me.”
He shook his head, then stood up and backed away, letting her hand fall to the cold granite. “I’ll get you that real estate agent’s card.”
Before she could stop him, he was gone. She tried not to take it personally. After all, their deal was to check anything personal at the door, but she couldn’t quite manage it. Maybe tomorrow.
Right now Nick was her friend and she felt for his pain, wanted to do something to help. She remembered the way parents had looked at him, as if he were a god with all the answers. But he was just a man, a smart and handsome one without a doubt. Still, he had flaws and frailties just like everyone else.
And the worst part of realizing that was it made her like him even more.
The next day Nick followed Ryleigh through a house for sale while the real estate agent waited outside. Some of the things they’d liked about Shelley Peck were her efficiency and sensitivity. She showed them around, pointed out the pros and cons, then disappeared to let them discuss the pros and cons amongst themselves.
He glanced out the living room window and saw the agent in her Lexus SUV. “I was a little surprised you made an appointment to look at houses today. Seems kind of fast.”
“Someone cancelled an appointment with Shelley, so I took it.” Ryleigh glanced at the room’s twelve-foot ceiling and crown molding.
“That’s not what I meant. I just didn’t think you were in such a rush.”
“And whose fault is that?” The glance she slid him was full of irony. “Your financial logic was flawless. There’s no reason to wait. Might as well buy something. Get out of your hair. Get settled. In case…”
In case she was pregnant. Thinking about her pregnant made him remember trying to get her that way. That made him want her now which seemed weird. Although anything and nothing made him want her—anytime, anywhere. He pushed the feeling away. No point in borrowing another complication when he had so many to choose from already.
“What do you think of this house?” she asked.
The two-story was about twenty-six hundred square feet with four bedrooms and three baths. Lots of granite in the kitchen, wood floors. It was functional and charming.
“There’s no security system,” he pointed out.
“Not a deal breaker.”
“It is in my opinion.” Because he felt protective of her. Always had and probably always would.
“It’s pre-wired for a system and I could have one installed. If I loved everything about the place.”
“Do you?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. Although the high ceilings are nice and that molding is wonderful.”
Nick glanced up. “Too high. That will make the place harder to heat and air condition. The energy bills will be, pardon the pun, through the roof.”
Her merry laugh burrowed inside him and brightened the dark corners of his soul. “That’s a good point. Let’s go see the next one.”
They left the house and Shelley took care of putting the key back in the lock box. She looked to be somewhere in her forties, a trim, blue-eyed blonde with shoulder-length hair.
She got in the driver’s seat and glanced at Ryleigh beside her in the front, then back at him. “What did you think?”
“It’s nice,” Ryleigh said. “But I didn’t love it.”
“I could tell.” Shelley started the car. “The next one isn’t far from The District and Green Valley Ranch Resort. That makes movies, shopping and really good restaurants close.”
During the drive they were quiet, just taking in the greenbelt
s and walkways through the family-centered neighborhood. Right off Valle Verde Parkway she stopped in front of another two-story house with a small front yard landscaped with desert plants and decorative rock.
Shelley looked at the information sheet. “This is supposed to be in nice condition, lots of extras. It’s a little over the price range you gave me.”
Nick released his seat belt and leaned forward. “Not a problem if she likes it.”
Ryleigh gave him an independent look that was new and very hot, as in sexy hot. “If I like it, I’ll handle the cost.”
“Everything is negotiable,” Shelley told them. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
The owners weren’t home, so the same routine applied. When the agent left them, Nick stood beside her in the kitchen/family room combination. This property had five bedrooms, including one on the first floor with its own bath.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“The carpet is pretty worn.”
“Shelley said the sellers are motivated and offering an allowance. They’ll even let the buyer pick out something and have it installed before move-in.”
“The floor plan is a little choppy,” he added, studying the backyard. “It has a pool.”
“I know.” She grabbed his arm in her excitement. “Isn’t that great?”
“There’s no fence.” Her hand was still warm as it gripped his long-sleeved shirt, but he felt the enthusiasm drain out of her. Explaining his motivation for the comment would probably be good. “A small child could wander outside and fall in.”
She nodded, but a frown settled in her eyes. “Doesn’t look like it would be problematic or costly to add one.”
“If you like this house.” He studied her face. One part of him hoped she loved the place and would move in tomorrow. Another part hoped she hated it and would stay with him just a little longer. Part two needed some serious therapy.
“I like this house a lot,” she said, glancing around. “But there are still more to see.”
He nodded. “At least you narrowed the search by price range and square footage. Nothing farther than ten miles from Mercy Medical Center or smaller than twenty-three hundred square feet.”
“And still there are so many properties for sale.”
“Yeah. Let’s go see them.”
When they got to the last house on the list, Nick could tell by the look on Ryleigh’s face that she liked it a lot. As usual he held his emotions back, but Ryleigh didn’t. She’d worn the very same bright-eyed expression when walking through the house they’d bought together.
One of the things he’d always liked about her was that you never had to guess how she was feeling. Happy, sad, grumpy or puzzled, her face showed everything. Right now it was showing unqualified approval.
Shelley didn’t miss it, either. “I think this might be the one. You two talk. I’ll go sit in the car and make some calls.”
When the front door closed, Nick asked, “Is she right?”
“I really like this one,” she confirmed. “Love the tile. It’s something I would have picked and goes with the light beige walls.”
He leaned a shoulder beside the French doors leading to the rear yard. “You don’t think that makes it too dark?”
She shook her head. “The white ceiling not only makes it look higher, but it brightens the room, too.”
“The pool takes up most of the backyard.”
“It’s fenced,” she pointed out.
“But that doesn’t leave much grass for a kid to play in.”
“There’s some off to the right. And the private park and play area is across the street.”
“You don’t think it might get noisy?”
“No.” She listened. “It didn’t seem like there’s much traffic, just people in the neighborhood.” She looked around the family room that adjoined the kitchen. “This is the only house we’ve seen with a fireplace.”
“This is Las Vegas. It’s not like you need one to stay warm.” But he remembered lighting his fireplace to set a romantic mood for sex, and that went under the heading of no good deed goes unpunished.
“But can’t you just see it decorated with lighted garland at Christmas?”
“Not really.” He was picturing his house without her in it and the emptiness when she was gone.
“That’s because you have no whimsy.”
He grinned. “I can live without it.”
“Not me. And the master bedroom had a ton of it. Big and bright. Didn’t you love that Jacuzzi tub?”
Not after he got a vision of being in it with her. Naked. “The closet is too big.”
“On what planet?” She looked at him as if aliens were popping out of his chest. “There’s no such thing as a closet that’s too big.”
“If you say so.”
“I’m not alone. Ninety-nine-point-nine percent of women would say the same thing.” She tilted her head and studied him, a frown lurking in her big brown eyes. “What’s with you today, Nick?”
“Nothing.” Denial was as good a place to hide as anywhere else. “Why do you ask?”
“Because you weren’t this much trouble when we bought a house together.”
“That’s because I just let you pick it out.”
He remembered as if it were yesterday. When the idea of house hunting came up, they’d just been married. He’d have bought her the moon to make her happy.
And she was. For a while. Then he left her alone too much, more than he needed to. At least she didn’t turn to another man. Her leaving was hard, but he didn’t think he could take that.
Backlit by the French doors, she rested her hands on her hips. “The thing is, this time you don’t get a vote.”
“Did you not say that you wanted my opinion?”
“Yes. But not if all you see is negative. I’m picking it out and making the final decision.”
And there was the source of his conflict. He wanted her under his roof every bit as much as he didn’t want her there. He’d thought it would be no big deal, but he hadn’t counted on the scent of her skin and the sound of her voice surrounding him.
He hadn’t anticipated that her essence, her presence, would remind him every second of every day what he would never get back. Even if he wanted to, there was no point in trying because he’d only disappoint her again. And he’d sworn never to do that.
He’d once heard his father say that his mother was as necessary to him as breathing. When she left, he never recovered and remarrying was a mistake. His dad was a broken man and nothing could fix him, not even a second marriage. It was very possible he’d died of a broken heart. Nick wouldn’t be a chip off the old block. He couldn’t let himself need anyone or be lost without them. Ryleigh had come awfully close to doing that to him, but he’d gotten over it.
When he’d invited her to live with him this time, it never crossed his mind that he’d be so completely tempted to let go of his control with her. Taking a step back was what he needed to do.
“You’re right.” Nick met her gaze. “You should make an offer on this house.”
Chapter Seven
Nick wasn’t liking this Monday nearly as much as the last one. He hadn’t seen Ryleigh that morning, for coffee, breakfast or anything else. Although it didn’t stop him, he had no business thinking about sex. Her fertile window had slammed shut several days ago.
As if that wasn’t enough to justify his foul mood, he’d made a complete ass of himself during Ry’s house-hunting expedition. Women were notorious for sending mixed signals, but if anyone had ever accused Nick of it, he’d have sent them for a psych evaluation. At least that’s what he’d have done before yesterday’s real-estate tour.
On the one hand, he supported the idea of her moving out a hundred percent and had given her every practical reason he could think of to buy a house. During her attempt to do just that, he’d verbally assaulted every property, even though any of them would have suited her perfectly. It didn’t take a mental giant
or a shrink to figure out that he didn’t want her to move out even though he knew it would be best and had advised her to make an offer.
He was feeling things that were unacceptable and against his primary rule. Survival meant not letting himself need anyone. Never get in too deep emotionally. That was the devil of it. Ryleigh had a way of skewering that rule with the four-inch heels of her come-get-me pumps.
That’s why this Monday was already a freaking disaster and it was only just after noon.
Nick had finished morning appointments in the office, then looked in on a patient at Mercy Medical Center and was now in the cafeteria putting food on his tray. Halloween wasn’t far away and there were a few decorations. Ghosts, witches and jack-o-lanterns were tacked up on the walls. A skylight in the bell tower bathed the room and the scattered tables and chairs in it with natural sunlight.
At the stainless-steel cashier table, fake cottony stuff made a web that held a plastic spider. The woman at the register knew him and waved him through the line. Doctors didn’t pay for food, but it wasn’t like that perk of the job would lift his cone of crabbiness.
Seeing an empty table in the back corner, he headed for it. Isolation was the best treatment for his condition in case it was contagious. Mostly he didn’t feel like being nice.
He’d just finished his turkey sandwich and started on a bowl of strawberries that made him think of Ryleigh when he saw Carlton Gallagher heading his way. Nick noted the gray slacks, tailored white shirt and red tie that Gallagher had on along with the stethoscope draped around his neck.
Was being a sharp dresser what made the female employees in the room check him out as he walked? Maybe the sprinkling of gray at the temples of his dark hair turned the guy into a chick magnet? The puppy-dog brown eyes? Or the mysterious tan he somehow maintained even though seeing patients in either the office or the hospital made being in the sun for any length of time practically impossible.
Nick’s irritation edged upward and he knew it had little to do with the fact that Gallagher’s idealistic approach to the practice of medicine was different from his own. His annoyance had everything to do with Ryleigh chatting up his prospective partner that day outside the newborn nursery. Although it ticked him off even more, honesty compelled him to label the irritation for what it really was.
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