Rescue Me: A Bad Boy Military Romance

by Vesper Vaughn

  But I don’t have time for that today. Today is my new life. It’s not the past. It’s right now.

  ***

  “Alright, Mr. Thomas. You keep that wound clean and stop using your chainsaw without eye protection,” I say, snapping off my gloves and pushing my rolling stool over to the waste bin. “This could have been a whole lot worse.” My eighth patient of the morning nearly lost his eye when wooden shrapnel lodged itself just above his eyelid.

  I know as he leaves that he won’t take my advice.

  I walk back into the still-full waiting room to call back an elderly woman with bed sores when I see a new patient sitting in the chair by the door. “What are you doing here?” I ask, with everyone looking at me.

  Luke smiles and puts down the issue of National Geographic he’s been perusing. “I’m one of your patients,” he says.

  “I won’t be able to see you until after lunch,” I say flatly. I feel everyone’s eyes watching me. We’ve got an audience. Great.

  Luke grins and his dimples pop into view. “I don’t mind waiting, doctor.”

  My heart is pounding and I have to stutter out the names of each patient as I bring more people back for the rest of the morning.

  Luke Davis has reduced me to a stuttering mess.

  By noon, he’s the only one left. My stomach is rumbling. “I can’t see you for another hour,” I say, taking off my white coat and hanging it on a hook by reception.

  “I brought lunch,” he says, pulling out a large cooler lunchbox. It’s covered in scuffs and sawdust.

  “That makes one of us,” I say. I’m regretting not making something for myself last night, but I was too nervous to settle on any one task.

  “I brought enough for both of us, actually,” he says, walking over to the reception desk where one day I’ll hopefully have a secretary. He opens the bin and pulls out two wrapped sandwiches and a canteen filled with soup. “Have a seat.”

  I’m feeling nervous again. The window air conditioner is on full-blast, and my eyes dart over to the sparkly ribbon flying out of it. “I…actually - I have food in my house,” I say pathetically.

  Luke laughs and walks over to me, grabbing my arm and pushing me down into the rolling chair. “Sit. Eat,” he says. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”

  The food is delicious, and I’m so hungry not even the butterflies in my stomach can keep me from stuffing my face. “Did you make this?”

  Luke nods. “Sure did.”

  “I seem to remember your knowledge of the culinary world being limited to microwavable macaroni and cheese,” I say in awe. The sandwich is a gourmet creation with freshly baked bread.

  Luke polishes off his sandwich and dusts his hands on his jeans, leaning back in his chair and putting his cowboy boots up on my desk. His tattoos are wavering on his arms and I have to force myself to look away. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’ve changed until you listen for yourself?”

  I roll my eyes at him. “So you’re just a handyman?”

  “Just a handyman, says the woman who was able to open her clinic a week early thanks to my hard work.”

  “I didn’t mean-“

  Luke shrugs and starts cleaning up our picnic. “I know what you meant.”

  “Sorry,” I mutter, feeling guilty. “Thanks for lunch, by the way.”

  “My pleasure, doc. You ready for your first patient of the afternoon?”

  I hear cars pulling up in the front circle and check my watch. “You better get in there before the line forms again.” Luke carries his lunchbox back into the patient room. I walk over to open up the front door and hold it open for the stream of women, men, and children filing into the waiting room. “Just sign in on this clipboard and I’ll get to you in the order in which you showed up, alright?”

  I walk down the hallway, pulling my coat back on. The patient room door is shut, and I knock twice.

  “Come on in,” Luke says.

  I turn the handle and step inside.

  Luke is naked.

  Completely, utterly, stark-ass naked.

  I swallow hard. I didn’t remember him being so…big.

  He’s laying back on the exam table with his arms behind his head, the paper crinkling as he wiggles a little to get more comfortable. And of course, he’s beaming at me. “Thought I’d save some time and get down to brass tacks, Doctor.”

  I clear my throat and pull out a fresh chart to write down his name. I realize my hand is trembling as I try to scrawl Luke Davis across the top, so I put the pen down. I’m determined to make eye contact only, which is going to be nearly impossible. “And what seems to be the issue today, Mr. Davis?”

  He wiggles his eyebrows, his white teeth shining at me. “I like you calling me Mr. Davis,” he says.

  I groan. “Just get to it, alright?”

  He sits up and pulls his far leg over so I can see it. I try to keep my composure as I look at it. It’s like something took an enormous bite out of his thigh. The skin is tight and twisted and shiny. My medical curiosity outweighs my shock. “Nasty, right?” Luke asks with a grimace.

  “What…what happened?”

  Luke shrugs. “IED. Nearly blew my leg off but it took out my buddy instead. His torso caught most of the shrapnel and the rest went right into my thigh. They had to cut out most of the muscle there.”

  “Has it been causing you issues?” I ask, rolling closer and running my fingers up over the taut skin. I can see now why he took his underwear off; the scarring runs all the way up to his abdomen.

  “You could say that. That’s why I’m here, after all.”

  I see that he’s had tattoo ink applied right to the top of the injury. I almost run my hands up the curving lines but stop myself just in time. I clear my throat. “Pain?”

  He nods. “I need narcotics. Usually doctors aren’t too keen on giving them to new patients without a history, but I figured the injury speaks for itself.” He reaches over to his pile of clothes and pulls out a handful of business cards. His six-pack abs ripple as he reaches, and I can’t help but stare at his gorgeous, perfect body. “Here you go. The numbers and names of all of my specialist doctors so you know that I’m not just a drug-seeker. It’s just going to be a lot more convenient if I can see you in person instead of driving all the way to the big city every few months.”

  I nod and take the cards, wheeling myself away from him. “You can get dressed,” I say, making notes on his chart and tucking the cards into the file for later.

  He laughs. “You sure about that, doc? Because I’m up for more than just an exam, if you know what I mean.”

  I can’t help but look at him, his mischievous eyes gleaming. I feel heat between my legs and have to cross them. “Out,” I say as flatly as I can muster. I know I’m not fooling him, though. “I have other patients to see.”

  I leave the room and shut the door, leaning up against it and collecting myself. No other man has this effect on me. Nobody but Luke.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  LUKE

  “You sure have been spending a lot of time up there at the clinic,” Tanya says to me over her beer. The bar around us is noisy and crowded. Nearly the whole town gathers here every night to unwind. “Bet you haven’t got a lot done at your place in a while.”

  I shrug. “It’s worth it, though.”

  Tanya raises her eyebrows with a smile. “I’ll bet it is.” Tanya sips her beer. “You know she’ll be at the school tomorrow for clinic hours there.”

  I try and fail to keep my face neutral. “Alright.”

  “Might want to wear your Sunday best to impress your girlfriend.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend!” I say. “Not yet, anyway.”

  The door to the bar swings open and Ella walks inside. A few people greet her and she smiles, pulling off her denim jacket to reveal a floral sundress that sets off her tits perfectly. My eyes follow the curves of her body and I lick my lips.

  “Keep it in your pants, Romeo,” Tanya
quips. “I’m getting another beer. Coke for you?”

  I nod. “Make it two, actually.” I cup my hands around my mouth. “Hey, Ella!” I yell, pulling the chair out beside me. She deliberates but only for a second before walking over.

  “Thanks,” she says, sitting down. “Alexa was supposed to meet me but Teddy’s babysitter cancelled. I couldn’t spend another night up at my place without going stir-crazy.”

  “You ride your bike out here?” I ask her.

  She nods. “I did.”

  “And how is it?”

  She blushes and grins. “Amazing,” she says. “Rides like a dream.”

  Tanya returns with two Cokes and another beer and takes a seat. “How was your first clinic day?”

  Ella takes the Coke and swallows some before answering. “Really busy but really great. I still need to get a secretary, though.”

  Tanya looks at me with a smile. “Ask him. I bet he knows of someone who could start this summer.”

  I could strangle her. “Not really,” I reply.

  “And why would you know of someone-“

  The Monday-night band cranks up the speakers and feedback calls out across the restaurant. “We are the Dad Monkeys!” says the middle-aged guy at the microphone. Stephen Wells starts into his cover of an ACDC song.

  “These guys aren’t bad, actually,” Ella says with a laugh. It seems like she’s forgotten the previous topic and I’m all too happy to let it go.

  “They won a few local contests in Ft. Worth last summer,” Tanya says over the music. She swallows down her beer and checks her watch. “I better get going,” she says. “Order the chili fries. They’re great.”

  Ella waves goodbye to her and looks at me. “You hungry?”

  “I could eat,” I reply, standing up. A pain shoots through my leg and I double over, grabbing it. Shit.

  Ella grabs my arm. “Are you alright?”

  I grimace. “Fine,” I choke back. Her phone rings and vibrates on the table. I see a name flash across it. Jason. “You gonna answer that?” I ask her, sitting back down.

  She looks irritated and sighs, ignoring the call with a swipe of her finger. “No,” she replies simply. “Should I get two orders of chili fries?”

  Another shock of pain goes through my body and I can’t hide it.

  “I’ll get them to go,” she says without question.

  I don’t stop her.

  Ten minutes later we’re stumbling out of the bar, her arm around my waist to help me to my truck, a brown bag filled with our dinner in her hand. “Give me your truck keys,” she says.

  “No way,” I reply. “You think I’m gonna let you drive my truck?”

  She rolls her eyes. “You can barely walk. I’m guessing shifting is out of the question as well, or at least it should be if you want us to make it there alive.” I hand her my keys and she helps me into the truck.

  “You’re way too excited about this,” I intone from the passenger seat, gritting my teeth.

  “You never let me drive your truck in high school. It’s like getting sweet revenge,” she says with a laugh. She backs out of the parallel parking space and stops. “Where am I going?”

  “Up a ways and take a right,” I say.

  She’s shifting gears like a pro. She sees the smile I’m giving her and looks satisfied. “You would know that I’m a pro at driving a manual transmission if you’d ever let me drive when we were…when we were dating.” She bites her lip and flips her curls back over her shoulder.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I say jokingly, trying to gloss over the moment. “Eyes on the road.” It only takes a few more instructions of where to turn before I see the gears going in Ella’s head.

  “You didn’t,” she whispers, as we get closer.

  “I did,” I reply, staring at her. I don’t want to miss a second of her reacting to this surprise.

  She turns down the long driveway, old willows draping over the road and leading dramatically to the decaying stone mansion. She parks the truck, her jaw on the ground. “You bought this place.”

  “I did indeed,” I reply, hoisting myself out of the truck and hobbling around to open her door. She’s stuck there in shock. I chuckle. “Get out of the fucking truck before our food is ice cold, Ella.”

  She pulls the keys out of the ignition and I walk her to the enormous wooden double doors. They are in desperate need of refinishing. I stick my key in the lock and turn it. I hold my arm out. “Ladies first,” I say.

  She pushes past me into the grand entryway. Most everything is covered in layers of drywall dust, but I pat myself on the back mentally for at least getting the massive chandelier hooked up to electric. I flip the switch by the door and the foyer is bathed in light. Ella gasps. “It’s so weird to see this place with the lights on,” she says quietly.

  I laugh. “Must also be weird to see it with your clothes on.”

  She punches my arm. “Shut up,” she says playfully. I can tell she’s excited for a tour.

  “Let’s eat and I’ll show you around,” I say, the pain in my leg diminishing in light of her excitement.

  I walk into the decrepit kitchen and hit the lights. The countertops are plywood and I only have a hotplate and a small dorm-sized refrigerator along with an old, rusting sink. “Sorry this place isn’t great yet,” I say, walking across creaking floorboards and pulling two Big Reds out of the refrigerator. I pop the bottle caps off and they let out a satisfying hiss. I pass one to Ella, who is standing at the bar. She takes it gratefully.

  “You should get off your leg,” she says, finally shaken out of her reverie.

  “Being here with you, I’m miraculously healed,” I say with a smile that makes her blush. I open the paper bag and distribute our food. “It’s almost like we’ve gone on two dates today,” I say as we dig into the meal with relish.

  Ella rolls her eyes. “Two little picnics is not a date, Luke.”

  I shrug. “Suit yourself,” I reply. Her phone buzzes in her pocket and she groans, sliding it out to silence it. I catch a glimpse of the screen and see the same name from earlier. “Who’s Jason?”

  She shakes her head. “This asshole I broke up with in California. He keeps calling me.”

  I feel a foreboding in my stomach. “Ah. Were you serious?”

  “Not really. But he doesn’t take rejection that well, as it turns out.”

  “You tend to leave an impression on people, Ella. I’m not surprised he doesn’t want to let you go.”

  She bites her lip and I can tell it’s to keep from grinning. “Hurry up and finish eating,” she says to me, polishing off the last of her chili dog. “I want to get the grand tour.”

  We walk through the echoing, dusty hallways of the mansion, me describing in excited detail how I’m going to be fixing this place up. “So I’ve had it for about a year now, and I’ve managed to get most of the old electrical rewired. But only one space is totally finished.” I step down the hallway of the west wing of the house and open up the doors to the master bedroom. “This is where the magic happens.”

  Ella rolls her eyes but still looks excited. She steps into the space and I have to reach around her for the light switch, our skin brushing up against one another. She’s breathing hard, and I take my time before hitting the lights.

  She gasps again, the same way that she did in the entrance. “Oh my,” she whispers. This room is the architectural crown jewel of the house. It was the one space that I was most looking forward to working on when I bought it. The room is an octagon, with one-hundred-and-eighty-degree windows set into the walls. It looks out onto the backyard, which is several acres of sweeping vista. My four-poster, king-sized bed sits in the middle of parquet hardwood flooring that I hand-sanded, stained, and refinished. The pattern of the boards is concentric circles emanating from the center.

  “It’s amazing,” she says. “This is your bedroom?”

  I nod. “The one and only.” I put my hand on her waist and steer her toward the bathroom.
“This is the other space I’ve finished.”

  She sees the claw foot tub and looks back at me. “You didn’t,” she whispers.

  I laugh. “You inspired me, what can I say?”

  She rushes over and hops into it, clothing and all. She leans back and moans with pleasure. “It’s perfect. I’d never leave this tub if I were you.” Her eyes meet mine and there are more unsaid words that pass between us in that moment than we’ve said all week to one another.

  “I made it for you, Ella,” I say.

  Her face softens and then goes dark. She climbs out of the tub. “I should get going,” she says. “I can get your truck back to you tomorrow. I’ll pick my bike up from the bar and-“

  I grab her arm. “Don’t leave,” I say to her. “Spend the night.”

  Her eyes are filling with tears. “Luke, I can’t.”

  “I want you, Ella. It’s always been you. Always,” I say, pleading.

  She shakes her head. “I have to be at the school tomorrow first thing, so I’ll be dropping it off early. I’ve gotta go. You rest that leg, alright? Doctor’s orders.”

  She leaves me standing in my own bedroom, completely alone.

  Suddenly my leg hurts more than it did at the bar.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ELLA

  I pull up to Luke’s bright and early the next morning. It still seems like a dream that he lives here, in this place where so much happened between us. I can still smell the old, wet wood scent in my memory, feel the softness of the blanket he used to lay me upon so tenderly. The memory is so visceral I half expect an eighteen-year-old me to be staring back in the mirror as I check my lip gloss. But the Ella of a decade ago is dead.

  It’s just me. Here. Now.

  I climb out of the truck just as Luke is opening the front door. He’s wearing a button-down shirt and dress pants, his dressy black cowboy boots peeking out from under the hem of his pants.

  “We sure are seeing a lot of each other, aren’t we?” he asks me with a smile, locking the door behind him. He’s not limping as much today.