The Makeover Prescription

by Christy Jeffries

  “This is it.” She loosely waved at the already half-empty car.

  Was she serious? Most of the women he’d dated, including Erica, would pack twice this much for a week’s vacation.

  “What about furniture?” he asked, trying to balance the load in his arms as he walked up the porch steps.

  She shrugged. “I’ll have to buy some, I suppose.”

  “Wait. You don’t have a bed. Where will you sleep tonight?”

  “I’m going to have a campout.”

  “A what?”

  “A campout.” Her excited smile nearly blinded him. “I always wanted to have one when I was younger—you know, with blankets and pillows, building forts in the living room—but my parents didn’t like the idea of me messing up the house. I decided that there’s no better way to start my new life in my new home than by declaring my own set of rules.”

  Boy, her parents sounded like a pair of buzzkills. No wonder Dr. Smarty-Pants was so formal and stiff. Growing up in the Chatterson house meant sheets, quilts and toys scattered all over the floor. Having four siblings was fun and kept things interesting, but it was certainly chaotic and... Wait. A basset hound had just lumbered up her driveway and through the side yard. Had she bought a dog, too?

  He turned to ask her if they allowed pets in the officer’s quarters near Shadowview, but his bad shoulder bumped into the front door frame and he let out a strong curse instead, dropping the armload of stuff he’d bragged would be easy to carry.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, those big green eyes looking scandalized by his choice of words.

  “Yep. Just wasn’t watching where I was going.”

  “Let me take a look.” She set her box on the floor, and he had to hold out his hand to stop her from coming closer.

  “No, really. It’s fine.” The last thing he needed was the sweet doctor touching his body again—even if it was clothed this time. “I’ve always been a little accident-prone, so I’m used to a few bumps and bruises. How about some pizza?”

  Julia looked doubtful, but Kane rolled his shoulder and held back a grimace at the stab of hot pain. “See? It’s fine. No big deal.”

  He walked to the makeshift table and opened the white cardboard box, his lips curling down at the contents. “Uh-oh. We’re oh and two with restaurant orders. Looks like Patrelli’s forgot the meat.”

  Her blond ponytail shook back and forth. “No, they didn’t. I’m a vegetarian.”

  Kane couldn’t stop the involuntary shudder. “Does your Aunt Freckles know?”

  “Yes. She’s not too happy about it, either, and says I’ll outgrow it by the time I’m in my thirties.”

  Kane was looking so intently at the pizza, he almost didn’t catch her admission. “Your thirties? How old are you?”

  “Twenty-nine.” Her shoulders elevated several inches with the straightening of her spine, and he suspected he’d just hit a nerve. But he didn’t care. The math wasn’t adding up, and he hated it when problems didn’t add up.

  “But I thought you were surgeon. Doesn’t medical school and all that take a long time?”

  “The average is four years for medical school, and depending on your specialty, the neurosurgery residency is another six or seven years.”

  “But that would be impossible,” he said, then saw her eyes turn a darker shade of green, reminding him of that superhero cartoon he used to watch as a kid—the Hulk, where the good guy would get angry and turn green all over.

  Not wanting to rile her past the point of no return, he tried to get his brain to calculate the numbers. But she beat him to the punch. “I graduated from high school when I was fourteen. I had a bachelor’s in science by age seventeen. I finished med school early, and did my residency right after being commissioned an officer.”

  He kept staring at her, this obvious genius who truly was a Dr. Smarty-Pants. By the time she was in her midteens, she’d already far surpassed the level of education he had now. That familiar baseball-size knot of shame grew to the size of a basketball, and again he wanted to change the subject as soon as possible.

  “Why do you always touch your mouth and chin like that?” she asked. He’d been unaware he was doing it, and he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Is it a nervous tic or something?”

  “Of course not,” he said, then screwed up his face in annoyance, because that’s exactly what it was. Damn, for someone who supposedly didn’t socialize much, the woman had picked up on one of his most obvious tells. The involuntary gesture was the reason he’d had to grow his beard when he played baseball, making it appear as though he was simply smoothing down his facial hair rather than alerting the opposition to his discomfort. But he wasn’t about to admit that to her. “Actually, ever since a woman tried to give me the Heimlich maneuver and then pointed out that I had spinach stuck in my teeth, I’ve been a little self-conscious about having something on my face.”

  Her face grew red. “I am so sorry about that. I really did think you were choking.” There was a note of insecurity in her voice, and he cursed himself for being the cause of it. Especially since he’d made the joke to deflect from his habit of touching his former beard.

  “Don’t worry about it. Scooter and Jonesy thought it was hilarious. I don’t suppose you have any plates packed away in one of those boxes?” he finally asked.

  “Plates? Oh. Right.” She tightened her already perfect ponytail. “I guess I’ll need to get some of those, too. I’ve never had to furnish an entire house before, and I was so focused on getting the upstairs bedroom and bath livable, I didn’t even think about how the rest would all come together.”

  Was she serious? She’d been studying for her med school entrance exams at the same age when he’d been studying for his driver’s license test, yet she hadn’t thought about the most basic necessities of a house. How could she be so naive?

  “Most women I know wouldn’t dream of moving into a house and roughing it without some long-term plan in place.”

  “Well, I’m not most women.”

  He forced himself not to look her up and down and confirm her obvious statement. Instead, he handed her a cold slice of pizza loaded with...what were those? Carrots? Who puts carrots on a pizza?

  “Thank you,” she said, looking anything but grateful to hold her food in her bare hands. Well, Just Julia should’ve thought that one out a bit more. Then he wanted to kick himself for being such an insensitive jerk. He took a bite of veggie-covered congealed cheese to keep himself from saying something he’d regret.

  Big mistake, he realized when his throat refused to welcome a piece of broccoli. He coughed several times before getting the bite down. Then waved his hand at the concerned look on Julia’s face. The last thing his extra tense, hyperaware muscles needed was for her to wrap her arms around his chest again.

  “I’m okay. But would it have killed Freckles to order an extra pizza for your poor contractor? One with a little pepperoni and sausage?”

  “Let me get you something to drink,” Julia said, walking toward the grocery bag he’d dropped by the front door. She pulled out a yellow-green soda and twisted the top off for him.

  He felt his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “You won’t eat meat, but you’ll drink that?”

  “I know it’s a contradiction, but growing up, I wasn’t allowed to have any junk food. Yet I was able to convince my parents that it gave me an extra boost of energy so I could study longer.”

  Ma and Pa Fitzgerald sounded like a real barrel of fun, and again Kane found himself experiencing a sense of pity rather than inadequacy. As much as he hated the fact that his grades had prevented him from going to college, at least he’d had loving and supportive parents growing up.

  He shook his head as Julia handed the drink to him. The neon color was about the least healthy shade he’d ever seen, and he had to
wonder if the genius gene had skipped a generation in her family. “No, thanks. If I drink that, I’ll be up all night.”

  He picked off the more offending vegetables and threw them in the black trash bag he’d set up in the corner of the room. With nowhere to sit, they ate their cold meal standing up, Kane growing more and more restless by the second. By the time he’d gotten down to his third piece of crust, his legs were so fidgety, he’d begun pacing the room.

  “It’s getting pretty late,” he finally said. “I’m going to run back upstairs and get my tools and stuff out of your room so you can get settled in.”

  “All right,” she said, “I’m just going to wash my hands.” He sure hoped she’d brought some soap with her.

  Then the thought of soap made him think about bubbles, which made him think about her in the bath and...

  Man, he needed to get out of here. He took the steps two at a time and grabbed his tool bag and portable speaker in record time. He was halfway out the front door when her voice stopped him.

  “Do you think you could help me with a list?” she asked.

  He froze. What list? The man list? Was she seriously asking for his help with something so personal? “Um. Depends.”

  His voice sounded like he still had broccoli stuck in his throat, and his once restless feet felt as though they were encased in concrete as he forced himself to turn and face her.

  She bit her lower lip before explaining. “I’m only on call tomorrow, so I planned to go shopping as long as no emergencies come up. There are so many things I need for the house. I was hoping you could tell me what I should buy. I’d ask Freckles, but the café is usually packed on the weekends, and besides, she’d probably talk me into stocking up on a bunch of kitchen supplies I won’t ever use.”

  Aw, hell. Kane knew his answer long before he said it. He’d been a protective older brother for too long, and he was instantly reminded of what her aunt had said about Julia being too trusting and needing someone more worldly to look out for her. Besides, he was going to be working here for a couple more months and could probably benefit from her having a better stocked kitchen.

  “Sure, I’ll make some notes and bring you a list tomorrow.” Of course, that would mean a lot of writing and concentrating, and it would just be far easier if he went and picked up all the stuff at the store himself. He thought of something else Freckles had said about her niece’s business sense. “You’ll also need to get those appliances ordered.”

  “I know I’ve already asked so much of you, but do you think you could help me navigate that, too? After the whole furnace fiasco, I think I may need some refreshers on how to negotiate.”

  Kane clenched his jaw at the reminder. He’d wanted to kick that heating and air-conditioning salesman’s ass for the price he’d quoted her last week. Instead, he’d called in one of his own subcontractors to do the installation. Sending Julia alone to one of those appliance warehouses would be like throwing her to the wolves.

  “You know, my shoulder will probably still be a little sore tomorrow,” he said, rotating it, this time not trying to hide his wince. “And I doubt I’ll be able to get those cabinets in with just one good arm. Maybe I should go to that appliance place in Boise with you, and we can stop by one of those big department stores afterward and get you some of the basics you might need.”

  “Oh my gosh. I would appreciate that so much. Are you sure you won’t mind?” He’d mind more if he had to watch her be taken advantage of by some salivating salesmen looking to pad their commissions. And it would keep him from having to write out a list of his own. Really, it was a win-win. As long as he managed not to touch her. Or smell her shampoo. Or look at her sexy lips.

  Man, his senses were out of control. Especially his common sense.

  “I’ll pick you up at eight.” His voice sounded a bit more gruff than he’d intended.

  He saw her peek around him and look out the front door at his Bronco before saying, “Why don’t I drive? After all, it’s not fair for you to have to use up your gas money on an errand for me.”

  Gas money? Did she think he was some broke guy down on his luck?

  “Besides,” she continued before he could take too much offense at the assumption he was purposely hoping people would make about him. “You should give your shoulder some rest, and steering on those steep mountain curves will do more harm than good.” She tossed the crust of her pizza into the trash, wiped her hands on a napkin and stood up. “All right, then. I’m going upstairs to soak in my new bathtub. See you tomorrow.”

  He blinked twice. Despite another awkward dismissal, he was touched that she was taking his well-being, and his gasoline budget, into account. He was also slightly annoyed by her presumption that he couldn’t afford to take her somewhere and Kane didn’t know how to reconcile his conflicting feelings.

  He told himself that her concern was a refreshing change from many of the women he’d dated in the past who seemed to be more interested in his celebrity status and seven-figure income than in him. Not that she was interested in dating him. But if Just Julia truly was clueless about who he was, then she was proving herself to be a thoughtful and kind person. Judging by her list and her determination to excel at everything, she’d make some guy damn lucky once she got herself settled.

  Which was a good thing for him, as well. The sooner she got off the market, the sooner he’d be able to get her and her damn bathtub out of his mind.

  Chapter Five

  Kane was surprised that his six-foot-two body was able to scrunch into the passenger seat of Julia’s MINI Cooper the following morning. He’d voiced his concern out loud when she’d walked out her front door carrying her key fob and another yellow-green soda for the road, yet she insisted that the inside of her car was deceptively roomy.

  Kane had a thing about arguing with a determined woman so early in the day. He also had a thing about zippy little cars, especially the kind that didn’t come with a six-figure price tag or a midlife crisis ego boost. His muscles were already clenching at the thought of being stuck in the passenger seat for the next hour or so. He didn’t need the added stimulation of being this close to her out of her surgical uniform. Granted, she wasn’t wearing the sexy workout gear, but her dark jeans encased her long, athletic legs and as she sat behind the wheel, her well-tailored blouse slightly gaped open where the top two buttons should’ve been fastened to prevent him from catching a glimpse of the curve of her left breast.

  “How long have you had this?” he asked as he buckled his seat belt. He could still smell the faint traces of new car scent.

  “I bought it about four months ago,” Julia said, proudly smiling as if she’d just told him it was her first Nobel Prize. They had those things for doctors, didn’t they? “I’ve never owned a car before. Or at least, a car that didn’t come with a hired driver.”

  His brain picked up the clue to her implied wealthy background, and maybe he’d remember that tidbit of information later, but he could only focus on the more important admission that this was her very first car.

  “What did you drive before this?” he asked.

  “Oh, I didn’t get my driver’s license until I was stationed at Shadowview. I always lived in a city with a mass transit system or on a military base and never really had to drive anywhere before now.”

  She reached forward and tried to program something into the GPS system, but her thumb hit the speakerphone button. “Name, please,” the electronic voice said.

  “Directions to Boise,” Julia called out, and Kane had to look out the passenger window so she couldn’t see him trying not to laugh.

  “Contact not recognized,” the speakerphone replied.

  Julia repeated the command again and got the same response. She shrugged and said, “I don’t think the navigation system recognizes my voice.”

  “Let me try,�
�� Kane said, pushing the menu button before typing in the address.

  “Calculating route,” the electronic voice announced, and a map popped onto the screen.

  “Thanks.” Julia smiled, then snapped her seat belt into place. “There’s supposedly an instructional video to learn how to use that thing, but I haven’t exactly had time to take a look at it. Yet.”

  Everything was yet with this woman. He studied her from behind the dark lenses of his Ray-Bans, while she fiddled with the radio dial, sending the volume skyrocketing and forcing Kane to cover his ears.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I’m still getting the hang of this stereo system, too.”

  “Is there an instructional video for that, as well?” he murmured, but because her finger had accidentally hit the mute button at that exact second, she ended up hearing him.

  “Probably. But I might have to look online for it. With the house remodel and taking on some of Captain Karim’s patients while he’s on deployment, I just haven’t had any extra time. But I’ll figure it out eventually.”

  They set out down Pinecone Court. Julia was in fact a better driver than he’d expected, considering the way she handled her smartphone and the other devices in the small, well-equipped car. But by the time they were heading south on Snowflake Boulevard, Kane’s left knee was doing its hummingbird imitation and he had to use his hand to hold it steady. He should’ve insisted on driving. Focusing on the road would’ve given him something to do. Being the driver gave him freedom to be in control of the car, of something bigger than him. He was a horrible passenger because he felt like a prisoner, trapped.

  When she reached for the thermostat controls, he practically pushed her hand out of the way before she could accidentally set the seat warmer on high. “Let me help you with that so you can concentrate on driving.”

  “Thanks, but I’ve got it. I’m a surgeon, remember? My hands are used to multitasking.”

  He stared at her palms placed precisely at the ten and two positions. She might have phenomenal surgical skills, but her inability to master electronics was making his own fingers twitch with the need to commandeer something. Anything. Man, he hated just sitting here, being this far away from the steering wheel.