by Annie Rains
Noah baited the line and dropped it into the water. He glanced at his phone again. She wasn’t responding to his texts this morning, but her job as a pediatric nurse was a busy one. That didn’t explain why she hadn’t texted him back once he’d returned home from Castaways last night, though. When Krista was upset she used the word “fine” a lot and her easygoing smile became tight and brittle—a lot like the one she’d sported on the way to the ladies’ room just before ditching him and Amber.
Crap.
She was definitely pissed. He guessed he’d need to find a way to make it up to her. Tonight was Thirsty Thursday, which meant Krista would be going out with Abby and Grace for drinks. He wasn’t above crashing their girls’ night. Maybe he could show up at Castaways, sweep Krista away, and twirl her around the dance floor until she forgave him. Krista never stayed mad for long and he knew exactly which buttons to push to get back in her good graces.
Yeah, that’s exactly what I’ll do.
A smile lined his lips. Then his line gave a sharp tug in the water. Noah’s heart jumped and Beauty started barking excitedly. “Shush,” he told her again, reeling in his line. This was his first catch of the day, but hopefully it was nowhere near his last—if he could get Beauty to chill out. Without a proper crew, he needed to work longer and harder so that he didn’t single-handedly tank his family’s seafood company. He wasn’t fooled. A lot of folks were expecting him to fail at his new role of captain. He was the youngest of the Sawyer brothers and the one who typically screwed things up, starting on the day he was born when his mother had died in childbirth. Noah was determined to succeed at this, though. He’d never really planned out a future for himself, but being a boat captain felt right.
He pulled a nice-sized red drum onto the dock and set to unhooking her.
The only thing that didn’t feel right in his current life was the fact that Krista was ignoring him. She was his best friend, his constant, and without her everything felt wrong.
—
“I’m skipping Thirsty Thursday tonight,” Krista said, holding her cellphone to her ear and plopping on her couch after a long shift at the hospital.
“Noooooo,” Grace whined on the other end of the line. “I sit behind a desk from eight to four-thirty. I’ve been looking forward to drinks and dancing all day.”
“You can still go. Joey will pick you up and DD for you and Abby.”
“It wouldn’t be the same without you,” Grace said. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you going?”
Krista stared up at the ceiling fan. It wasn’t hot, but she’d flipped it on so that she could watch it spin. She focused on the rotating blades. “It was a rough day at work,” she finally said, her eyes immediately burning. She wished she could take her boss’s advice and leave her patients tucked in their stiff, white hospital beds and out of mind when she came home, but she couldn’t. “One of my patients returned today with a pretty serious infection.” That’s all the information that Krista could spare. Patient confidentiality rules made Krista carry the burden of what was going on with her patients alone.
“I’m sorry,” Grace said softly. “But I think you might feel better if you came to Castaways with us. It’ll take your mind off things.”
“Not tonight. But I’ll meet you for coffee and muffins at the BB Café before work tomorrow.”
The Blushing Bay Café was her favorite guilty habit.
“All right. If you’re sure.”
“I am. See you tomorrow.” Krista set her phone aside and continued to stare at the ceiling fan. It wasn’t just her patients that she was upset about tonight. She was still bothered about Noah bringing a date to Wednesday Wings.
She blew out a breath and pressed her palms into her eyes. A moment later, the door to her townhouse opened behind her.
“Hey, brat,” Joey said, tromping in and heading straight to the fridge, as usual. He was a beast of a man. Large boned just like their father and a towering six foot two. Krista hadn’t gotten the “beast” gene, as her family called it. She was petite by their account, even though the world considered her five-foot-six, one-hundred-and-thirty-five-pound frame average.
Krista sat up and watched him pull out the salami. He lifted two slices of bread from a bag and sandwiched at least an inch of meat in between. “Want me to make you something better than that?” she asked.
He looked up, taking her in for a moment. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Why aren’t you getting ready for Thirsty Thursday at Castaways?”
“I’m staying in tonight.”
His assessing brown eyes continued to stare. “You’re still upset over whatever happened last night? You never did tell me what that was, by the way.”
“Doesn’t matter. And no. It was just a long shift at work. My feet are killing me.” And her heart felt a little achy, too. “I can cook you dinner, if you want. To pay you back for all the nights of DDing in your cab.”
Joey shrugged his broad shoulders. “It’s no problem. It’s good for my image to be seen with a bunch of beautiful women.”
Krista walked over and joined her brother at the kitchen counter. “Seriously, it’s time you found yourself a good woman to take care of you.”
“Well, if I do that, who’ll take care of you?”
This made her laugh, even though laughing was the last thing she felt like doing at the moment. “You do take pretty good care of me. Guess we’ll be stuck together into old age. Maybe we should take in a couple dozen cats and freak the neighbors out.”
Joey glanced at her over his shoulder. “Tempting.”
She laughed again. “So, dinner. What do you want? Name anything we have in our pantry and I’ll cook it for you.”
He scratched his chin. “I’m not sure you can handle what I’m craving.”
She folded her arms at her chest and shook her head. “Are you serious? I’m offering to make anything and you want mac and cheese right now?”
He took on a serious expression. “How the hell did you know that?”
“Because that’s what you’ve wanted for every meal since you were five. Aren’t you ever going to grow up?”
“Only if you do.”
Krista pointed at the couch where she’d just been having a mini pity party. “Go. It’ll be ready in fifteen. But you’re eating a vegetable, too,” she said, channeling their mother who lived with their father on the west side of Blushing Bay now. Krista pulled out the dark blue box with a neon orange–colored pasta dish on the front. Then she set about to making the meal her brother had asked for. He was never going to outgrow mac and cheese, but he had grown up. He owned his own cabbing business—even though he was the only cabbie—and he’d nearly married his high school sweetheart a while back. That had never happened, but at least he’d gotten close to his happily-ever-after. Krista, on the other hand, felt stuck in some in-between place. She wasn’t a child anymore, but she didn’t have the things she’d assumed would be hers as an adult. A husband, a family. Even Grace was getting married now. And Abby Sawyer, the other part of their Thirsty Thursday trio, had already been there and done that with Noah’s oldest brother, Sam.
So why not me? Krista wondered as the water boiled in front of her.
The doorbell rang, breaking her from her thoughts. Krista looked up. It was either Grace or Abby attempting to pull her down to Thirsty Thursday with them. “I’ll get it,” she said, sucking in a breath. She readied her “no” and opened the door to the one man she’d never been able to say no to—and the reason she didn’t have the adult life she fantasized about. “Noah. What are you doing here?”
Chapter 2
Noah had decided groveling in front of Grace Donner and Abby Sawyer was a bad idea. Instead, he’d come straight to Krista’s front door. Looking at her now, he wondered if that wasn’t a bad idea, too.
Her lips were pressed into a plump line. He could almost see the wall building between them right in front of his eyes.
“Stop that,” he said, still standing
on her porch.
“Stop what?” She crossed her arms at her chest.
He kept his gaze above her shoulders. Always above the shoulders. “You’re shutting me out because you’re mad at me. I’m sorry.”
One invisible brick tumbled. If he’d been smart, he would have brought chocolate and watched the whole wall crumble with minimal effort.
“What are you sorry for?” she asked, lifting her chin stubbornly.
Noah squeezed past her and waved at Joey on the couch.
“Hey, I didn’t invite you in,” she objected, spinning around to face him again.
Noah grinned at her. Another brick fell. “Krista, I’m sorry that I brought Amber to dinner last night. I didn’t realize it was going to scare you off.”
Joey sat up. “So that’s what happened last night.”
Krista shushed him. “I felt sick. That’s why I left. You’re free to bring people to our Wednesday night hangouts. There are no rules.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “Not a problem.”
“She’s lying,” Joey said, sitting behind them. He pointed. “See how she’s biting her lower lip?”
Krista’s face reddened and she spit out her lip.
Noah suppressed a laugh because she was already mad at him, and now her brother was tossing logs on her flames. “Can we take a walk? Talk in private maybe? How about I be your DD tonight with the girls?”
Krista shook her head. “I’m not going tonight.”
Noah could see the shine to her blue eyes. There were tears behind them, waiting. He knew her well enough to know it wasn’t all about him. Something had probably happened at work today. She loved being a nurse, loved her patients almost to a fault. “All right. How about we take a drive together? I can take your mind off the day and win back my best friend.”
Krista glanced behind her to a boiling pot on the stove. “I’m making mac and cheese.”
Joey stood and headed into the kitchen. “Go, I’ll finish it. It’s the thought that counts, blah, blah, blah.” He looked up and winked at his sister.
Turning back to Noah, Krista gave a small nod. “Okay. A drive would be nice, I guess.”
“Well, let’s go.” Noah led her to his four-door Jeep Sahara and took the driver’s seat. They cruised down several roads before she started talking.
“It’s fine that you brought someone to dinner last night. Great, actually. And she seemed to be just your type.”
“Ha. Definitely not my type,” Noah said. “I’d rather have Wednesday Wings with you. Just you and me on Wednesdays from now on. I promise.” He glanced over as they drove. A small smile set on her mouth. “Wanna talk about today?” he asked.
He could hear the sharp intake of breath filling up her chest. She blew it out and he knew, if he looked over, he’d probably see her fighting off tears again.
“One of the kids on my floor had to be medevaced to the children’s hospital at Duke. That only happens if we can’t meet their needs. If…” Her words trailed off. She rolled her lips inward and sniffled at his side.
“I’m sorry, Kris,” Noah said in a low voice, feeling helpless suddenly. “I’m sure the people at Duke will take good care of him or her.”
Krista wiped a finger under her eye. “I know.”
Noah heard the crack in her voice. He wanted to make it all better. “Ice cream?” he asked, turning toward the Blushing Bay pier. There was an ice cream shop there where he and Kris had shared many a cone together. In his experience, ice cream made things better. All the more if it was chocolate ice cream.
“I didn’t say yes,” she said, noting the direction of his Jeep.
“You didn’t have to. I know what makes you tick.”
Five minutes later, he parked and they strolled along the Main Street sidewalk toward the vendor. The air was chilly, summer long gone by now. Noah doubted there was much demand for ice cream these days. The old man who’d run the shop for as long as Noah could remember waved as they stepped inside.
“There’re my two troublemakers,” he said, looking at them over his thick-lensed glasses.
“How’s the kidney?” he asked Krista, as if it hadn’t been nearly two decades since her transplant.
Krista swept an unruly lock of dark hair from her cheek and patted her side. “No problems. Just like new.”
The question made Noah’s gaze fall on the charm she’d been wearing around her neck for just as long. It was a fishing hook twisted up to make a heart that he’d given her just before her surgery. He’d looped it on a piece of fishing line to make a necklace for her. He hadn’t known what else to do and he’d wanted to give her something. He’d have given her his own kidney if he could have. In fact, he’d petitioned his dad to let him do so. “This is to hook your new kidney and keep it on the line.” It was silly, but Krista had loved it so much that she’d had the fishing hook plated in gold. It now hung around her neck on a thin gold chain and she never took it off.
“What’ll you have?” the old man asked Krista first.
Before she even answered, Noah knew exactly what she’d choose. She’d pour over every choice before deciding on cookies and cream. Always.
She stepped along the cartons, looking at every choice.
Noah tapped his foot, but held his tongue. He’d developed patience over the years.
“Cookies and cream,” she finally said, smiling up at Mr. Plumly.
“I’ll have coffee ice cream,” Noah added.
“Not that you need any more caffeine. I don’t know how you sleep at night,” she said, laughing.
And that was true. The only thing they didn’t know about each other was how the one slept. And that’s the way it would stay.
Ice cream cones in hand, they walked toward the pier that stretched out over the roaring ocean. The wind whipped by, repeatedly tossing Krista’s hair into her cone.
“I’m going to have to shower off the stickiness when I get home, thanks to you.” She glanced over. “But thank you. I needed this.”
“Does this get me out of the doghouse?”
She laughed, the sound light and bubbly as it reached his ears. “Yes.”
They made it to the end of the pier and leaned against it, staring out from where they used to fish as children, before the days of commercial fishing boats and a quota of fish that had to be brought in daily for the Sawyer Seafood Company’s needs.
Noah cut his gaze to the side just in time to see Krista swirl her tongue over the peak of the ice cream mound on her cone. He resisted the surge of attraction that hit him like one of those wind-tossed waves on the pilings below.
Noah swallowed and frowned at his own cone. He was suddenly turned on. He usually ignored the attraction he had toward Krista. Ignored it like his life depended on it, because in a way, it did. As his best friend, she made his life better. He never wanted to lose her. “Dammit,” he whispered under his breath, pulling his cone away from his mouth.
Krista looked over. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it?”
“Not too much,” he muttered.
—
Friday the thirteenth wasn’t exactly a holiday, but when you worked on the pediatric floor of a hospital, any opportunity to make things fun was welcome.
Krista poked her head into Adam Reese’s doorway. “Boo,” she said, entering into the dimly lit room. Adam remained asleep. His mother, Mandy, smiled tiredly at his side.
“It was a rough night,” she said. “He didn’t get to sleep until after midnight.”
Krista’s heart sunk like a lead balloon. “I’m sorry. You look tired, too. You should go home. Get some sleep. I’m on shift for the next eight hours and I’ll make sure Adam is well taken care of. I promise.”
Mandy shook her head, but then submitted to a yawn.
“You can’t take the best care of him if you’re a zombie. He’ll probably be asleep for another four hours anyway. Then I plan on making spiders out of surgical gloves to scare Dr. Jacobs later. Adam will love it.”
Mandy
laughed. “You’re amazing with him. I’m so glad you’re here.”
Krista hugged Adam’s chart to her chest. “You know, there’s a caregiver support group that meets downstairs once a week. I know it’s beneficial for a lot of friends and family members who frequent here. You should go.”
Mandy shook her head. “I don’t have anyone to leave him with when we’re home.”
Krista knew Mandy didn’t work. Adam had what the medical community referred to as PAD—primary antibody deficiency. His little immune system had a difficult time fighting off even a basic cold. He came to the hospital once a month to receive an intravenous blood product heavy in antibodies that would help him fight off germs for the next few weeks—but even so, he sometimes landed in here with an infection. This week’s diagnosis was pneumonia. Mandy couldn’t hold down a job because she was always carting him to and from the ER, so they lived on child support checks from Adam’s father, who preferred to pay big bucks to keep the weighty responsibility of Adam’s illness off him—the bastard.
“My parents are older. They can’t manage a seven-year-old boy,” Mandy said.
Krista pulled a pen and notepad out of her pocket and jotted down her cellphone number, which broke one of the unwritten rules in nursing: Never give your personal information to patients. All contact goes through the hospital. “Here. You just said it yourself. I’m great with Adam. Once he’s discharged, feel free to call me anytime. If I’m not working, I’ll be glad to come over and watch him so you can take some much deserved ‘you’ time.”
A smile pushed up Mandy’s sunken cheeks. “Are you serious?”
“Of course I am. I love Adam.” Krista turned to look at the sleeping boy. “And you need a break.”
Mandy pocketed Krista’s phone number. “I’m going to take you up on that. I haven’t had a free night to myself since he was diagnosed.”
“Good. And right now I want you to go home and get some sleep. He’s fine here. I promise.”
Mandy pulled her lower lip between her teeth and slowly stood. “Okay. But please call if he needs me.”