He stared at the table, then back to her. “Could you…” He circled his finger.
She rolled her eyes but stood and gave him her back.
Jeremy hopped on the table, lying down on his stomach to hide his serious boner. Damn, that hurt. He didn’t have any false modesty, and nudity didn’t bother him. But letting Mad know he was rock hard even despite the pain wasn’t in either of their best interests.
And there he went again, thinking things he really shouldn’t be thinking.
Tim’s baby sister. Tim’s baby sister. Tim’s baby sister.
That helped. Watching her gather more gauze and slip into her professional mode helped a little more. But when she stepped behind him and began gently scraping with the gauze pad, lust took a backseat in his mind to fighting against the pain. It took every ounce of concentration not to squeal like a little girl when she grazed over the raw skin, removing the dirt and grit collected from his meet-and-greet with the asphalt.
“Sorry,” she said, voice quiet. Very un-Madison like. “Do you want a local to numb the area? It might be best.”
“No,” he said, teeth gritted.
“This is never fun. I’m trying to be quick without rushing.”
“I know.” He hissed in another breath, then let it out slowly. As she poured some liquid with a fat syringe over the area, he felt a moment of cool relief—like rubbing aloe from the fridge over a sunburn—before she went back at it.
And although he knew he shouldn’t, he watched her work over his shoulder.
Madison’s nose scrunched a little, her tongue planted between her lips, as if she were in total concentration, in some nursing zone where only she and her task existed. Her right hand was firm but not harsh as it wiped and worked to clean the abrasion. Her left rested right above the abrasion, which happened to be over the curve of his ass, ready with the syringe. Warm, soft, totally inviting. All she had to do was slide that hand a few inches lower, over his hip and…
And nothing. Because he couldn’t go there. Despite his previous slips, getting involved with his best friend’s sister was a line, an invisible boundary that guys didn’t cross. It seemed beyond wrong. Like he couldn’t go out and get his own girl, so he picked from the most easily accessible pool.
Easy. A word that would never apply to Madison O’Shay. Being with Mad would be like trying to hold on for dear life while you were being tossed around the eye of a hurricane. The guy that finally managed to nail her down for keeps had his work cut out for him.
And annoyingly, the thought of some other guy winning Madison over made his back teeth ache with frustration.
“You need to relax a little more.”
“Huh?” He glanced at her face again.
She blew out a breath, stirring the few hairs that escaped her regulation bun. “Your body, you’re all tense.” As if to prove a point, she reached for his hand and curled her fingers around his tight fist, squeezing. “If it hurts too much, I’ll just go get that local now. It won’t take me more than a minute.”
“No. No, I’m fine.” With effort, he unclenched his fists, closed his eyes, and tried to take his mind elsewhere, willing his muscles to relax enough to finish the job. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. I know it’s uncomfortable.” Her voice was all business again, as if he could have been any random Marine in here getting worked on.
He knew that was best. But he hated it anyway.
“I’m having people over next weekend to break in the new place. I know I’ve lived there for a while now, but I haven’t had any guests over. I’m always at Tim and Skye’s place. So I wanted to play hostess for a change. I didn’t know if Tim had mentioned it.”
He had. But Jeremy gave a noncommittal answer, as usual. “Not sure if I can go,” he mumbled.
“Oh. Okay. That’s fine.”
But it wasn’t. He could hear the hurt in her voice, knew there would be just a hint of sadness in her eyes if he dared open his own to look.
He didn’t dare.
She continued on in silence. Which seemed heavier than the conversation before it.
“Okay. I think you’re good. Do you have something else to change into, or will you need a pair of scrub pants?”
“I’ve got jeans in my bag.” He waited for her to step away and turn her back to him before hopping down and pulling up his now-ruined cammie pants. He couldn’t walk out the door in them. But for the moment, until she stepped past the curtain, they were his best chance of coverage.
Madison stood still, watching as he belted the pants. She bit her lip—a sign he recognized now as meaning she was holding back something.
“What, Mad?”
“I hate how things are between us,” she blurted out, then blushed furiously.
“How things are…” he said, waiting for more information before he stepped in it.
“I just… Yeah. After that whole thing with you and me outside Dwayne’s apartment, I don’t know. I don’t like that we can’t seem to be friends anymore.”
“That’s not true.” Was it? He couldn’t deny he was always watching where he stepped with her now. “You’ll always be a friend.”
She chewed her lip a little more and stared over his shoulder instead of at him, but she shrugged as if she were done with the convo. “All right.”
“Madison.” He croaked her name, unable to hold it in.
She met his eyes then, and he could see the pain there.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” She turned away, fiddling with instruments on the cart. “Seriously. I’m a little embarrassed that I was throwing myself at someone who didn’t want me back.”
“I never said that.” The words were out before he could stop them. But they were no less than the truth.
Her hands froze, but she stayed facing away. “But you won’t give us a chance.”
“Madison.” She wouldn’t turn around. He touched her shoulder. “I can’t.”
Her shoulder jerked under his hand, and he dropped it. “Keep the area dry for a few days, and change out the dressing tomorrow morning with this.” She tossed an individually wrapped gauze pad large enough to cover the bulk of his abrasion onto the table. “If it looks worse, or the skin around it starts turning red, come back in.”
And with that, she pushed through the curtain. The flap closed behind her, and he was alone in the cubicle, suddenly swamped with sound from outside. As if Madison’s presence had been a mute button, locking them in a soundproof room, and when she left, the world and all its sounds intruded once more.
Dammit. He sat down heavily in the chair next to the exam table and opened his bag to hunt for his jeans. Jeans he should have put on before heading home but he was too stubborn to bother with.
What the hell was he going to do with Madison?
Nothing, a voice that sounded suspiciously like his father told him. A career in the Corps requires a wife who can be with you, be flexible, be supportive. What kind of parents could you be if you were a dual-military couple?
Nothing, a more reasonable voice echoed. Madison is Tim’s sister. A real friend wouldn’t go there. Not ever.
He prayed he was friend enough to remember that in moments of weakness.
***
Madison slammed into her apartment with enough force to scare a SWAT team. The man was so infuriating, she couldn’t even begin to unravel the ways he made her want to scream.
Actually, screaming sounded pretty good. She debated for a moment, then decided her neighbors wouldn’t be as pleased with the result as she would.
She flopped down on the couch, then rolled enough to reach around and untie her bun. It annoyed the hell out of her, how tight she had to keep her hair back. Talk about a headache. But when she thought about cutting it, she just remembered all
over again how annoying it was to grow back out when she wanted to change. And the regulation length for short hair for females really didn’t flatter her face all that much either.
The silence of her home pressed around her, choking her. For the first time ever, she lived alone. In college, she had roommates. During OCS, she had several roommates. And at her first duty station, yup, a roommate. Even moving here, she originally planned to live with her brother Tim while he was deployed. Though she would have been the only one there, his things and his emotional presence would have made her feel better.
But then it turned out he was, um, married, and Skye wanted to live with her husband. Go figure, she thought with a smile. So she did the mature thing and found a place for herself on the fly, giving the newlyweds some time to get to know each other without a sister underfoot.
Maybe she could get a dog. No, too much work and her hours were too unpredictable. The poor thing would be home alone way too much.
A cat, maybe. They were more self-reliant and didn’t need to be taken out for walks all the time.
Too bad she hated cats. Too pissy and selfish. She was selfish enough.
Something else she hated… the way Jeremy was dodging all chances to see her, to be alone with her.
She snorted a little as she remembered the look on his face when she asked him to drop his boxers in the hospital. Priceless didn’t begin to describe it. But, God, that hadn’t been easy for either of them.
Her professionalism kicked in, thank the good Lord, and she managed to work without trembling hands. But while he kept his eyes closed, trying to relax his muscles, she couldn’t help but notice his body. And when she’d finished and bandaged the area, she took just one self-serving moment to look her fill.
He was cut, that was for sure. Not as bulky as Dwayne, but he had his fair share of muscle. Lean and sculpted, that would be how she described him. It wasn’t an obvious strength. Someone could easily overlook him when taking bets on a fight. But Jeremy had a body that was quick and sharp and made her mouth water.
The first time Jeremy dropped trou in front of her, she didn’t imagine it’d be in this capacity. But she’d take it.
And he fought her. He as much as admitted there was an attraction on both sides. She wanted him, and she’d made it beyond clear. The way he responded to her, it was clear he felt the same. But he held back and refused to get involved. She knew he wasn’t dating someone else, so what was his issue?
Madison stood, body aching just a little from the twelve hours on her feet, and shuffled back to the bedroom where she tossed her scrubs on the floor and hopped in the shower for a quick rinse off. After drying, she grabbed an oversized pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt she’d liberated from her brother’s closet when she moved out. Despite the fact that she was bone-tired, she knew she wouldn’t fall asleep. Crawling in bed now would only lead to aggravation, she’d learned over the years. After a long shift in the ER, her body needed an hour to decompress before any sort of sleep was an option.
So she grabbed a magazine and headed back for her couch. Except, she passed by the second bedroom and couldn’t help but peek in.
She had no need for an office, and the only bedroom furniture she owned was in her own room. The two-bedroom apartment had seemed like such a waste, but she liked the complex and no one-bedroom units had been available. All that sat in there now was a lonely looking—and sadly underused—elliptical machine and a few stray boxes that she had yet to put in the outside storage unit her apartment came equipped with.
Maybe another roommate was the ticket. Her mind immediately flashed to Jeremy.
Easy, girl. That’s not going to help at all.
Being more practical, she scanned the room again. She had the space. But she was past the idea of putting an ad in the base paper. No, she’d need to choose a roommate more carefully this time around. She wasn’t twenty-two anymore. Didn’t want a party animal or a complete slob. She was bad enough on the slob front.
Something else to think about. After she plopped back down on the cushions and started flipping mindlessly through the fluff magazine, her mind wandered once more to Jeremy and the haunted look in his eyes as he told her that yeah, despite the fact that he wanted her too, he wasn’t going to make that move—ever.
But at least she knew he wanted her. It wasn’t lack of desire that held him back.
A crinkling sound had her looking down to see her hands clenched around the magazine pages. She smoothed them out. It wasn’t fair to either of them, really. They wanted each other. They were both single, healthy adults. So why couldn’t they give it a shot? Whatever his reasons were, it didn’t seem fair to put them ahead of their own desires.
So maybe she would try again. Bump up the campaign to get Jeremy to set aside his silly reservations about the two of them in a relationship and see if things could go somewhere.
Feeling a little lighter now than she had before, Madison flipped again through the pages, smiling to herself as she started forming a much more subtle, simple plan of attack.
Chapter 3
Jeremy lay back, hissing again as he bumped his hip. Damn thing hurt like hell. All day his leg had been on fire at work. Like hell would he ever admit that to anyone. But damn, the thing was painful. Not to mention the numerous other bumps and bruises his body took on from the minor crash. He’d been avoiding changing the bandage all day, mostly because he just didn’t want to know what it looked like. Seemed easier that way. Denial was always healthy, right? Soon he’d have to get to it.
But first, a beer.
With his hip cocked up, he stretched out on the couch to watch Seinfeld reruns when someone knocked on his door.
Tim ran straight home to his wife after the workday was done, and Dwayne was deployed. Which only left…
He had no clue. But he grunted, called out a gruff, “Hold on,” and leveraged himself up as easily as he could. Thankfully he’d changed into mesh workout shorts when he came home, or his pants would be rubbing against his road rash like a son of a bitch.
He hobbled only a little on stiff legs to the door and yanked it open without bothering to check. “What?”
Madison stood on his doorstep, eyes narrowed at his pissed tone. “That’s a fine thanks I get for coming over here to check up on you and see if you need help with your bandage.”
As usual, his body fought a losing battle to ignore what she did to him physically. Rather than say no, he gave in and stepped back, letting her into his apartment.
She spun around once and shuddered. “Seriously, you need a new place.”
“It works for me.”
“It screams pitiful bachelor.”
“Then there’s no false advertising.” He hobbled the first step, then sucked it up and walked without the limp to the mini-kitchen area. “Want something to drink?”
“No.” Her eyes took another lap around his apartment—which took about seven seconds—and she shook her head. “It doesn’t even have a kitchen.”
“Yes it does.” He knocked a hand against the two-burner stove. “See?”
“That’s a kitchenette. Not a kitchen.”
He made a face. “Kitchenette is a girl word. It’s a mini-kitchen. So, therefore, I’ve got a kitchen.”
“I know you can do better. Why don’t you?”
“Leave it alone, Madison.” He sat down on the rolling desk chair, giving her the whole couch. The less their bodies touched, the better off he was.
But she didn’t sit down. “Did you change the bandage this morning?”
He wiped a hand down his face and mumbled something under his breath.
“Jeremy Phillips!”
Jesus, it was like his mother came back to life just to give him hell. “I said no. I forgot about it.” Total lie.
“What a lie.”
&
nbsp; He never could bullshit with Madison.
“Let me guess. Didn’t want to do it because it would hurt too much.” She blew out a breath and dropped her book bag on the steamer trunk that doubled as a coffee table. “Figures. Men. They act so tough and rough, but the moment they have a boo-boo, they turn into the biggest wusses possible.”
“That’s not a scientifically proven fact,” he pointed out, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.
“It’s enough of a fact for me. Don’t forget, I see people in pain all day. The women grit their teeth and apologize for being an inconvenience. The men are all, ‘Don’t you have a shot for that?’”
He chuckled, because it was the exact thing he’d been thinking while she cleaned the wound. “Yeah, well, it hurt.”
Madison patted the sofa cushion. “Come on over, tough guy. Lie down and let’s get that bandage changed.”
He’d rather chew glass, but that wasn’t going to add to the macho image she mocked. So he went for stoic silence as he dragged himself across the few feet to the couch. Doing a controlled fall, he landed on his stomach, face in one of the throw pillows that came free with the couch. Actually, it was a pretty comfortable position. He could settle in for a nap quite easily. “You’re not going to turn Evil Nurse on me and make me cry, are you?”
“It hadn’t occurred to me,” she said sweetly. But the glint in her eyes told him the thought very much occurred to her, and she was giving it a lot of consideration.
He groaned but held still.
“Uh. Earth to Jeremy. I need those off.”
“Hmm?” he mumbled into the pillow. This was actually a pretty comfortable position. Maybe he should look into napping like this more often.
Something tugged on the cuff of his shorts… presumably Madison. “These. They need to come off. Let’s go. Pants off, big boy.”
And just like that, his comfortable position became severely uncomfortable as his dick swelled and pressed hard against the couch cushions.
Officer Breaks the Rules (Semper Fidelis. Always Faithful.) Page 3