Holiday House Call

by Doyle, Jen

  He was ready for the hesitation, the combination of there’s a shit ton of work that has to be done and even though I said it wasn’t too close too fast I totally lied and now I’m pulling away. Again.

  As expected, she said, “Oh. I’m okay. Ryan probably has something for me.”

  “I’m sure he does. I have something, too, and I’d be happy to bring it up to you.”

  Also as expected, she said, “Oh, no. That’s fine. But thank you.”

  “No worries,” he answered. “I got something for Bruiser, too, so I’ll just hang out here with him in the parking lot. Have a good afternoon.”

  Then he hung up.

  He wasn’t entirely sure it would work; it was definitely a new approach. So he nearly let out a holler when he saw her come out into the parking lot no more than five minutes later. It couldn’t have been more perfect.

  Although he’d have been happy to have lunch in her office—and, say, partake in any particular getting naked activities should they come up—he’d also been fully prepared for this. Right down to the folding chairs in the bed of his truck, the radio blaring from inside the cab, and the portable heaters he’d borrowed from the Deacons’ catering operation because, yes, it was the Tuesday after Thanksgiving and it was damn cold outside. He was happily taking a drink of water when she appeared in front of him.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  He was proud that the sight of her in her lab coat no longer caused a visceral need to frown. “Don’t mind me. Just making a house call of my own out to Bruiser. The poor guy gets lonely out here.” He held up his water in Bruiser’s direction as if in a toast. “I know you’re busy. You don’t need to join us. We’re good.”

  She frowned. “Aren’t you cold?”

  The heaters were actually a little too powerful, truth be told. He had to take off his coat. He shrugged it off, draped it over the side of the truck, and patted the top of the heater. “Nope.”

  “This... It...” Her eyes darted over to the attendant’s booth. “Are you sure you’re allowed to do this?”

  He hadn’t fully thought that part through, unfortunately. Her car was in the staff lot and he’d needed to talk his way in. Luckily, the promise of two tickets to a Chicago Watchmen game, which Nate would take care of even though he’d just retired, went a long way.

  Time to close this deal. Tuck jumped down from the bed of the truck and stood right in front of her. “I sure am. Are you?”

  That prickly look he loved settled over her face. “I’m a surgeon here. I’m allowed to do anything I want to.”

  Yeah. He liked when she got her back up like that. He was definitely finding his aversion to doctors was diminishing—although he did prefer her out of the white coat. “Then I’m sure you’re allowed to take ten minutes to eat lunch.” He put his hands on her waist and stepped right up close to her. “I’ll even give you a boost.” He pulled her against him.

  Since she clearly hadn’t had a problem sharing the details of her sex life with the people who worked with her, he decided it would be okay to go as far as kissing her neck. And he liked the sound she made as she let her head fall back, her hands coming up to his chest.

  She was a logical woman. But just because he’d made his argument carefully, it didn’t mean she’d let him win. When she rolled her eyes and said, “Fine,” he felt like he’d just sank the winning basket in the state championship.

  So he lifted her up, and he jumped up in next to her. Then he held out her chair and served her lunch.

  Although she seemed vaguely uncomfortable, she did begin to relax. “Were you lying to me, or did you really get something for Bruiser, too?”

  Yep. He was ready for that question, too. He handed over a bag.

  It took her a few seconds to open it, but when she did, she laughed to his extreme satisfaction. “Fuzzy dice? Please tell me you’re not trying to get me to visit your father in Reno.”

  He nearly choked on his sandwich. “God forbid, woman.”

  With a serene smile, she picked up the other sandwich and dug in. When she remembered to eat, she did enjoy her food. Tuck liked that in a woman. They were nearly done with lunch when her pager buzzed. She looked at the number and frowned. “I need to take this.”

  Since she didn’t seem to have her phone with her, he handed over his.

  “Gabe? Is everything okay?” Then her cheeks turned red and her hand flew up to cover her mouth. “This is entirely inappropriate, you know that, right? But sure. Put her on.” Then, a few seconds later, she blushed a little. “Yes.” After another pause, Karen’s cheeks grew redder as she began to laugh. “Taking the fifth on that one. And I’m not saying another word.” She handed the phone back to Tuck. “Gabe wants to talk to you.”

  Before Tuck could even say hello, the other man’s voice came over the line. “I had no choice, okay? But I was closing the blinds and I saw you there and Taylor didn’t entirely believe me when I told her about that set up you have going on.”

  Taylor was laughing in the background. Which was really good to hear.

  “And as for the rest of it,” Gabe continued, “you’ll have to ask Dr. C because if not for these extenuating circumstances, this would be entirely between Taylor and Doc C. So after we hang up, we’ll need to pretend this phone call never happened.” Then his voice went rough. “But this just totally made Taylor’s day, and I can’t thank you enough for that.”

  Which, of course, made Tuck turn to Karen the second the call ended. “What did he ask you?”

  After taking the last bite of her sandwich, Karen carefully folded up the paper wrapper. “I talked to Taylor, actually. And she wanted to know if we were really seeing each other. She overheard some of the nurses talking.”

  Tuck really wasn’t a fan of being the subject of conversation, but he couldn’t deny that Karen’s admission felt like a win. Plus he was happy if anything he did helped bring even just a little light to Taylor and Gabe; that was the first time he’d heard Gabe sound like his old self since this had all happened.

  Except, well, there’d been a second question, and it had been enough to make her blush. He’d never seen her blush.

  He sat back a little. “And...?”

  Karen hesitated before saying, “She said there was some speculation about, well, you. Because you’re on everyone’s short list of eligible men, but you haven’t dated in a while so if I had any additional details to share—like, for example, any comments as to what was under that uniform—she’d be happy to pass them along.”

  “But you aren’t sharing.” Just to be clear.

  That was when he got the evil smile. Then she leaned forward and put her lips right up against his neck. “Absolutely not. Those things are all for me.”

  She gave his thigh a little squeeze as she pulled back. She straightened up, gathered the trash together and stuck the bag under her arm, then she jumped out of the truck. She blew him a kiss before turning and waving up to one of the windows, which Tuck assumed was Taylor’s, although when he looked up he saw they had a much bigger audience than he’d realized.

  Well, hell.

  After she disappeared back into the hospital, Tuck looked up at the windows and gave a wave himself—the damage was already done—and then went about restoring his truck to its normal November state. As he was leaving the lot he stopped in front of Bruiser. “You should’ve warned me.” The woman did keep him on his toes.

  With a shake of his head, he drove off to the rest of his afternoon.

  Chapter Fifteen

  That had been unexpected. Karen was sure Ryan had at least a little bit to do with it, so she attempted a healthy glare when she came back into the hospital. But her heart wasn’t really in it, because, well, she had enjoyed that little interlude.

  She even found herself stopping in to
see Taylor and Gabe on her way back to her office. The second she walked in, Gabe started laughing. He turned to his wife. “Picture Dr. C, and picture her face bright red. I could see it from all the way up here and even I couldn’t believe it.”

  This should have bothered her. She was as connected to her patients as she could possibly be, but it never got personal, not like this. It was one thing to tell her staff about exploits that didn’t mean anything; it was another entirely to find herself falling not just for a guy but for the people he loved—and then realizing they were thinking about you, too. “You do realize you shouldn’t know this about me. And him!”

  Taylor turned to Karen with her eyes unfocused, but with the biggest smile on her face that Karen had ever seen. Granted, Karen had met the woman at what had to have been one of the worst moments of her life, but still. This was a good one.

  “Oh, Dr. C, I’m sorry, but I don’t give a crap about how inappropriate this is.” She reached out for Gabe and patted his hand. “Honey, close your ears.” Then she turned to Karen. “That man has been the subject of many discussions among my friends, and I cannot tell you how happy I am to have something to tell them that isn’t going to make them feel sorry for me.”

  Oh, God. “You can’t tell them.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can.” The woman smiled again, and it was infectious. “And I will. The man had a picnic for you in the back of his truck—in November!”

  That was a good point, actually, so there was no need for Karen to feel guilty. And he’d been the one to kiss her first, all while manipulating her right into his truck. As with pretty much everything else since she’d gone outside, the thought did make her want to grin.

  Gabe just shook his head as he stood up. Despite his wife talking about another man, he actually seemed happy. Emotional, too, but in a good way.

  “I need a cup of coffee,” he said, managing to keep most of the scratchiness out of his voice. “You need anything, babe?”

  Taylor shook her head. It was clear she could tell exactly what was going on. She squeezed his hand. “I’m good.”

  When he leaned down to kiss her, Taylor’s hand went up to the nape of his neck and the intensity of their love practically shimmered between them. Karen could feel her tears rising to the surface. She bit her lip. She couldn’t lose it here. She wouldn’t lose it here. Even if it was a Tuesday.

  After Gabe left, Karen came further into the room. “Will you promise me not to ask me questions about Tuck if I sit with you for a while?”

  That made Taylor laugh again. “Oh, honey, I don’t think so.” She patted the bed next to her. “I sure wouldn’t mind the company, though.”

  So Karen sat down, finding herself strangely at peace. She did love her patients and she gave them as much as they wanted to take. But she didn’t generally sit and chat, nor did she hold their hands. Yet with Taylor it seemed natural to reach out.

  She knew she was in trouble even before Taylor tearfully whispered, “I told him he should leave me. That he should find someone who’d be able to match the kids’ clothes—who’d be able to tell them apart.” Taylor gripped Karen’s hand. “But he said I was his heart. I didn’t need to be his eyes, too.”

  Karen tried to keep her breathing steady, but it hitched in her chest and she knew that whether Taylor could see or not, there was no question she was sniffling. Damn it. What struck her, though, was something she hadn’t considered until now—had never even thought about when she saw the couples whose lives brought them to Karen, who always made her think of her own parents. Gabe wasn’t sacrificing anything to be with his wife. It wasn’t about what he had lost or what their kids would never have.

  Instead it was what Tuck had said that day at the police station. Karen whispered, “As long as you’re there to come home to, he’s going to be okay.”

  “I see that.” Taylor’s voice broke. “That I can truly see.” She gave Karen’s hand one last squeeze before grabbing for a tissue and blowing her nose. Then she threw it toward the trash can at the end of her bed. “Two points!” Taylor raised her arms in the air. “Gabe tells me I make it every time.”

  Karen looked over to see the pile of scattered tissues on the floor. “Um...”

  “I know he’s lying to me. But that’s okay. Right now we’re taking all the wins we can get.” With a smile, Taylor settled back against the pillows and closed her eyes.

  So Karen sat back, too, wishing desperately she could have given Taylor one more.

  * * *

  Four hours later, Tuck was back at the hospital. He hadn’t asked her to have dinner yet, unsure of how she’d respond. And now he was wondering what to do next. He was unsettled, almost overwhelmingly so.

  It made no sense—he’d wanted her to tell people they were together. And he truly had no problem with the hospital staff knowing whatever Karen wanted to tell them. So what if Gabe and Taylor knew? If Taylor and her friends were “speculating.” He was allowed to have a life, too. This didn’t exactly blur any lines. His fellow officers dated, broke up, got married, got divorced...just like everyone else in the world. As long as Tuck played by the rules, it was fine.

  Except sometimes with Karen he didn’t follow the rules. Sometimes he actually just cast them aside. If he’d heard of any one of his officers doing what he’d done with her while still in uniform, for God’s sake—even while off duty—he would’ve torn them a new one.

  But the fact that Gabe and Taylor, who, incidentally, didn’t even live in Inspiration anymore, had been witness to that had no bearing on anything whatsoever. It was just a picnic in his truck, for God’s sake.

  A picnic in November.

  A completely romantic gesture that, on paper, was completely the opposite of Tuck’s general MO, and yet with Karen had seemed not only natural, but entirely necessary. Hell, they’d made Taylor and Gabe smile when there were so few other reasons to do so right now.

  But, still... Maybe it would be best for him to let the whole dinner thing go for tonight. Just head home and hang out with his dogs. Maybe even convince Ella to go for a ride, check on the lights for the Christmas trail rides that the town would be doing beginning on Saturday.

  Except then his phone buzzed. A text from Karen: Any chance you’re still in Ames? Want to grab dinner?

  He stared at the phone. She was asking him? That was unheard of. How could he possibly say no to that?

  And why the hell was that even a consideration?

  He was being an idiot. If his dad could take care of his mom for thirty-four years—if Gabe could be facing the unknown with a reassuring smile for the woman he loved even if she couldn’t see it—then Tuck could sure as hell manage to figure out how to reconcile his world with Karen’s.

  Right?

  Sure. What time and where?

  She named a steakhouse out by the arts center—he supposed he shouldn’t be too surprised she didn’t invite him back to her place given how he’d responded the first time, something he needed to work on, clearly. And then she said, How does 6:30 sound?

  Perfect. I’ll see you there.

  Yeah, he had an hour and a half to kill, but he had no problem finding ways to pass the time. If nothing else, he could call his dad.

  He’d been on the phone for about twenty minutes when he saw Karen come out of the hospital and head across the lot to Bruiser. She didn’t see him, which was probably a good thing since he wasn’t sure why she wouldn’t have just said she was ready.

  “Hey, Dad, I have to go. I’ll call you later. Love you.”

  Having every intention of letting her know he was here, as he hung up he realized she had laid her head on the steering wheel, which didn’t look good.

  Maybe she was just tired. She loved her job, but he knew how exhausting it was, both physically and mentally. It obviously took a toll. But before he could so mu
ch as open his door, she started up her car, turned out of the lot and headed onto the road.

  It felt wrong to follow her, and yet there was something about the way she drove that looked familiar. An odd statement for your run-of-the-mill driver, yet Tuck looked for patterns like that regularly. And everything about her right now was throwing up red flags. She headed out of Ames and into cornfield territory, of which there was no shortage considering they were in the middle of Iowa. Tuck wasn’t in his squad car because he’d known he’d be in Ames for most the day, but he still held back as far as he could so that she wouldn’t notice him. When she swerved a little, though, he did wish he’d stayed closer, especially when he saw her pull off onto one of the dirt roads that led into the fields.

  He was too far away to see which road she’d gone down, cursing her for finding the one area in which the corn hadn’t actually been harvested, stalks still standing tall, weeds thick enough to hide her headlights. And, damn it, it was dark and the lighting on these roads was nonexistent; they all looked the same. He slowed down and put his hazards on when he got to the part where he thought she’d turned off, but it still took a good fifteen minutes of driving up and down little off roads before he saw Bruiser pulled into a turnaround space in the field, lights off.

  Tuck pulled over himself, just out of sight. He wanted to yell at her. To tell her it wasn’t safe to be out here all alone in the dark on some abandoned field, to be driving if she was that tired. And, hell—there were a lot better places to take a nap. Like, for example, in his arms after he’d made love to her thoroughly. And fed her, incidentally. The woman really needed to eat more.

  But the second he shut off his engine and got out of his truck, he realized how wrong he’d been. She was sobbing again—loudly enough for him to hear it, even as muffled as it was.

  Goddamn it. The idea of her holding everything inside all day, unwilling to let anyone see how deeply it all got to her, shredded him.

  He started to go to her. Except, well, was this why she’d put him off for an hour—so she could be alone to cry?