by Tara Rose
“No need to.” She pulled her hand away before he released it. “Let’s get inside. It’s cold out here.”
Cold? It had to be close to sixty. And for mid-March, sixty was warm to him. “I feel foolish for not having realized who you were. I was stressed about my flat tire, and…” Just shut up.
There was no plausible excuse for his rude behavior. He’d judged her on sight without really looking at her. If he had, he would have recognized the pretty woman who had offered him a job last month. The only job he’d been able to land since being forced to resign from Northwestern Memorial Hospital in Chicago almost a year ago. He should be kissing her feet right now.
She didn’t answer him as they walked inside. A burly-looking man behind the counter glanced up and smiled, showing a couple of missing teeth. “Vivian Morrison. I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“It’s Tremaine again. The divorce was final six months ago.”
“Oh, right. How are you doing? You need anything?”
Preston was now more than curious as to why her marriage had split up.
“I’m fine, Dan. Really. How is Linda? I heard she had a relapse last week.”
“Oh, well you know. She has her good days and her bad days. Mostly bad days right now.”
“We’re all praying for her.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that. What can I help you with today? That old truck of yours finally break down?”
“Old? That thing’s got miles on it yet.” She placed her hand on Preston’s shoulder, and his dick twitched at her touch. Whoa, down boy. He hadn’t so much as gone out on a date since being served with suit papers. It wasn’t worth the trouble.
“This is Dr. Preston Benson, and he’s the new chief trauma surgeon at Sin Hospital. His car has a flat about a mile outside of Christiana, and he’s hoping you have a tire that’ll fit his Jaguar.”
“Oh, a Jag, eh?” Dan punched the keyboard on the counter. “What year?”
“It’s brand new.”
“What model?”
“F-type S.”
“Standard wheels?”
“No. They’re gloss black alloy.”
“Nice. What color is it?”
“The wheel?”
Dan chuckled. “The car.”
“Dark blue.” What the hell did that matter?
“Sounds like a nice ride. Let’s see here…” Dan punched a few more keys then started whistling a tune Preston didn’t recognize. He should have let Vivian drive back to Sin and send the drunk tow truck driver. “Here it is. Yep. We got one.”
“Great,” said Vivian. “I’ll drive you back to your car, and then you’ll be on your way.”
“Who’s going to change the tire?” asked Preston. “The drunk man?” This was ridiculous. He had a houseful of unpacked boxes waiting for him. All he’d been trying to do was find his way back to town after searching for a Starbucks. The traffic on 231 was stop-and-go, and he’d mistakenly thought he could weave his way back to Sin on the back roads and save some time. He’d never try that again.
Dan laughed as he punched more keys. “This girl here can handle that. I’m printing your invoice now, Dr. Benson. Cash or charge?”
“Charge.” Preston felt the heat rise to his face, and he didn’t like it one bit. A woman who looked like her, drove a truck, and changed tires? He glanced at her hands. Perfectly manicured nails. She even had on lipstick. She was an enigma, and Preston Benson loved enigmas. The more mysterious a woman was, the more attracted to her he became.
And that’s exactly why he’d been in trouble in Chicago. He glanced away from Vivian. It was best to get this unpleasantness over with and then show up for work Monday morning as if nothing had ever happened. It’s not like he’d run into her in the ICU every day. No one need ever know about this.
From now on, he’d be more careful about jumping to conclusions. Nothing about this state so far was what he’d expected. This was home, at least until everything died down over the bullshit lawsuit. He needed to lay low and make the best of it. Then maybe one day he’d redeem himself and be back on top, where he belonged.
Dan followed them out to the truck and hoisted the tire into the bed, and then Preston cooled his heels while Vivian and Dan talked about everyone in the damn county. He took out his cell phone, which of course now had plenty of bars, and couldn’t believe it had been ninety minutes since he’d left the house for coffee. Hadn’t she said she was on her way to town? Surely she must have something else to do today.
Finally, she slid into the driver’s seat, and he climbed into the cab next to her. “Thank you for this. I’ll pay you gas money for your trouble.”
She waved a hand in the air as she backed out of the parking space. “Don’t be silly.”
“Then let me buy you lunch, at least.”
When she gave him a wary look, he held up his hands. “Nothing implied. Just a meal to say thanks.”
“It really isn’t necessary.”
He stared out the window at the town of Murfreesboro, which was much larger than Sin but just as quaint. “How long have you lived here? In Tennessee, I mean.”
“All my life.”
He glanced at her again. As charming as the town was, she was prettier to look at. “Ever been to Chicago?”
“Nope.”
Had he completely lost his ability to talk to a woman? He’d never felt so out of his element. Then again, it wasn’t every day he made an ass of himself over a flat tire. “Have you been outside of Tennessee?”
She gave him a quick smile, which made it difficult to look away. “I’ve been to London. Does that count?”
“London, England?”
Her easy laugh held no trace of disdain, which surprised him. If the tables were turned, he’d still be pissed off, but she seemed to have forgotten the whole thing. “Yes, England. Five years ago, I had the chance to visit some online friends who live there.”
“What was it like?”
“Big, noisy, crowded, with a lot of old buildings. And I couldn’t understand a thing anyone said.”
He snorted. “I’ve been having that same experience for days now.”
“You’ll get used to the accents.” She gave him a sideways glance. “But I wish I could say the same in reverse. Maybe just slow down the words a bit, until people get used to you.”
“Nice.”
She shrugged. “Just keepin’ it real, Dr. Benson.”
“Why did you hire me, Vivian?”
“Because you were the most qualified candidate we had.” She gave him a thoughtful look. “And because you needed the job.”
They locked gazes for as long as she had her eyes off the road, which likely was no more than seconds, but to Preston it felt like a lifetime. She knew why he’d left Northwestern, of course. It wasn’t something he’d been able to hide, and he hadn’t tried to do so. But what she didn’t know was his side of the story, because no one at Sin Hospital had asked. And yet, she’d hired him anyway, but had just let him know she knew how desperate he’d been to find work.
When she turned her attention back to the road, he studied her profile. There was no trace of smugness, or of having put one over on him. She’d merely acknowledged the truth. This wasn’t a woman who would play him, or pretend to be something she wasn’t. Her candor was refreshing, but since it also wasn’t something he was used to, he didn’t feel on solid footing. “Thank you, Vivian. For the job.”
“You’re welcome, Dr. Benson.”
“Call me Preston.”
“Most folks will, you know.”
He smiled. “Guess I’d better get used to that, too.”
When they reached his car, Preston was shocked to see a tow truck parked next to it. They climbed out of her truck, and Vivian introduced him to Pete Rivera.
“Dan gave me a holler,” said Pete. “So I came out here and found it. You got the tire?”
Preston watched, torn between amusement and embarrassment as Pete and Vivian changed his
tire in seven minutes flat. When he tried to pay Pete, the man looked mortified. “There’s no charge. We’re neighbors now. You have any more trouble with your Jag here, you holler at me.”
Vivian leaned close, and he inhaled the scent of her shampoo. “That means you call him.”
“Right. I figured that one out. Will do. Thanks again.” Sure. I’ll call you. Assuming I can get a cell signal.
Once Pete left, Preston struggled for something to say. This entire morning had left him wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into. “Are you sure I can’t buy you lunch?”
For a second or two, he thought she was going to change her mind, but then she shook her head. “Thanks, but no. It might give folks the wrong impression.”
“You mean because of your position at the hospital?”
She looked uncomfortable, as though searching for the right words.
“I didn’t do it,” he said, quietly. “The allegations in the suit. They’re not true.”
Vivian didn’t say anything, so he kept going.
“She dropped it less than three months after she filed it.”
“I know.”
“I went out with her one time, when I was a resident.”
“You don’t have to tell me any of this, Dr. Benson.”
“Preston. My name is Preston. And I know I don’t have to tell you, but I want to. I had one date with her, almost six years ago, and I didn’t ask her out again because…well…because she simply wasn’t my type.”
He didn’t think it was necessary to tell Vivian that the reason he’d never asked Renee out a second time was because he’d realized about a half hour into their date that she was batshit crazy.
“But she would not let it go. She transferred from the Medical ICU to the Surgical ICU when I began my fellowship there. She told me she’d done so in order to work more closely with me. I told her more than once I wasn’t interested in pursing a relationship with her, but she was relentless. Since she appeared to pursue every male who worked there, I didn’t see any point in making a federal case out of it, or reading anything more into it.”
Preston took a deep breath. He hadn’t told anyone except his attorney this story, but what was the harm now? She’d taken a chance on him, and in his mind that meant she should know the truth.
“She paged me one day, from the ICU. When I called her back, she said a patient was showing signs of neural compromise, and she gave me the bed number. I didn’t realize the bed was empty. It’s a big hospital and I barely remember the patients I have in the units by name most days, let alone by bed number. The curtain was closed, so I knocked on the edge of the door frame and she said to come in. I assumed there was a patient in the bed.”
“No one else saw you?”
“No. It was the middle of the night and all the nurses were caring for their own patients. No one even saw me come onto the unit. She was alone in the room and the bed was empty, of course. As soon as I saw that, I started to leave, but she grabbed me around the waist and tried to kiss me. I told her to back away, and I extricated myself from her grasp as gently as possible, but I did have to shove her a bit to get out of there.”
“Do you think that’s why she sued you for sexual harassment? Because you shoved her?”
“No. She sued me because I spurned her. Because for over six years I wouldn’t go out with her again. I went to my chief, and to HR. We even talked to risk management. I told my side of the story, and they said to do nothing at that point. When the suit was filed, I told them about it. Renee left Northwestern and went to Cook County shortly thereafter. She told everyone who would listen it was because the working conditions in the units were unbearable for her.”
“Why did you leave, then?”
“Because she went public. Her comments were all over the Internet. People I’d worked with for years looked at me sideways every time I walked into a room or onto a unit. I wanted to countersue for defamation but my attorney said it would only make me look worse. Even after she left the hospital and dropped the suit, nothing was the same. Nurses started complaining to my chief that I was surly and sloppy in the units.”
“Were you?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. My mind wasn’t on my work, that’s for sure. But no patients were harmed. I stand by that.”
“So they forced you to leave.”
He averted his gaze for a second. He’d come this far. He might as well finish it. “They wanted me to go to counseling but I refused. I didn’t believe I’d done anything wrong, and I still don’t. I never led Renee on or flirted with her at work. We only had one fucking date, for God’s sake.”
“Do you think it would have helped if you’d gone to someone about her behavior earlier? You said she followed you around for years.”
“Yeah. I should have done that. I see that now. But I figured she’d eventually grow tired of it and back off. And like I said, she was a flirt. She didn’t treat me any differently than the other men who worked there.”’
“So why you? I mean why didn’t she sue all of them?”
He gave her a droll look. “Because I had the most money.”
She nodded slowly. “Thank you for telling me. You didn’t have to.”
“I know. But I wanted the air cleared between us.”
There was a long, awkward silence. Somewhere in the distance a bird sang, but he had no clue what kind it was. The breeze carried the scent of flowers past his nose, and that was still a shock to him considering it was only March. The growing season was much longer here. He’d have to get used to that, as well.
“Well, I need to get to town,” she said. “And I imagine you have a lot to do at your new home.”
“Yeah, I sure do. Nothing is unpacked.”
She gave him a long, searching look. “Why don’t you come over for supper? If nothing is unpacked, you probably don’t even have groceries.”
“I don’t, actually. And I love to come over for supper. Should I bring a bottle of wine?”
She laughed softly, and his dick grew hard at the sight of her blush. “You ain’t in Chicago anymore, Preston. I’m talking take-out barbeque and maybe a couple of beers. Just bring yourself by about six, okay?”
He couldn’t help but smile. “All right. That sounds perfect.” After she gave him her address, he watched her climb into her truck and drive away. He stood there for a while, fighting the urge to follow her into Murfreesboro, and beg her to spend the rest of the day with him.
Was he totally out of his mind to be going over to her place tonight? Probably. But that wasn’t about to stop him. He’d never met a woman like Vivian Tremaine, and he wanted to get to know her better. A lot better.
Chapter Three
Luke Henderson watched Vivian’s truck pull up to her house next door. He’d taken the day off work at the Henderson Weed & Feed his family owned in order to paint his back deck. He’d finished three hours ago, and was sitting on his front porch, enjoying the sunshine and the smell of spring air. It was a bit cool by Tennessee standards, but the Bradford pears were in bloom, and he knew it would only be a matter of time before the yards in Sin were ablaze with color.
She pulled around to the back, so he sauntered into his own back yard and touched the deck. The paint was nearly dry. Vivian was carrying Sheetrock from her truck bed into the house, so he wandered over to help. “It’s about time.”
She grinned, setting off a chain reaction in his body that had begun when she was twelve years old and he was fourteen. He’d kissed her behind his grandparents’ barn on her birthday. It had been her first kiss, and even though he hadn’t admitted it at the time, it had been his, too.
“I’m still sending him and what’s-her-name the bill for this. When did it get so damn expensive? Even with my daddy’s discount it still cost too much.”
“Then charge them for your labor, too. Want some help carrying it inside?”
“Sure.”
Once they had the Sheetrock inside, Luke walked th
rough the house with Vivian while she drew a circle with a Sharpie around each of the holes she planned to repair. “You’ll need to repaint, too.”
“Think I should charge him for that, as well?”
“Ah, yes.”
“Guess who I carried into town this morning to buy a tire for his car?”
Luke frowned. “No idea.”
“The infamous Dr. Preston Benson. I came up on his Jag by the side of the road. He’d run over something and it tore his tire apart.”
Luke didn’t like the way her voice sounded almost too casual, like she was trying to make less out of the encounter than it had meant to her. “What’s he like?”
“Impatient, angry, and he hates it here.”
Luke shrugged. “He’s from up north, right? Chicago, I believe.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
She was too smart for that. Everyone in this town knew where he was from. The fact that Sin Hospital had decided to give him a chance was the biggest news around here in a dog’s age. “Bought that home out on Two Brothers Road, right? The one your daddy built two years ago and thought he’d sold, but then they couldn’t get financing for it.”
“That’s the one.”
“Nice house.” Very nice house. And too big for one person, but Luke imagined the doctor was used to pretentious surroundings. “So you say he hates it here? Did he tell you that?”
“He didn’t have to. Every word he spoke was dripping with sarcasm.”
“Sounds like a great guy. When do I get to meet him?”
Vivian laughed. “Come on over and join us for supper. I’m getting takeout from Uncle Sonny’s.”
Hot jealousy shot through him. He’d been wanting to ask her out since she filed for divorce, but had waited because his brother, John, told him to give it more time. John was married to Beth, one of Vivian’s older sisters, and Beth said she wasn’t ready yet. The pain of what Cletus had done to her was still too raw.
Didn’t sound to Luke like it was too raw at all. Not if she had asked the doctor from Chicago to supper. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable.”