“What do you want?”
He crossed his arms over his worn blue scrubs and leaned against the wall. She pushed her oversized glasses up the bridge of her nose and straightened her shoulders.
“I want an interview.”
That was one thing he liked about Laura. You always knew where you stood with her.
“No.”
You could also be as blunt as you wanted and she never played the poor-delicate-girl card. Her eyes narrowed slightly.
“I need an interview.”
“I need sleep. Looks like we’re both disappointed.”
He watched her jaw for the tell-tale sign she was grinding her teeth. Sure enough there it was. Any minute now there would be violence - that was something she’d learnt from his sister. Hit first, ask questions later.
“I’ll get fired from my new job if you don’t give me an interview.”
“And I care, why?”
“You owe me.”
He reeled back as though she’d hit him.
“You’ve got to be kidding? After a dozen years you’re going to pull that one. I don’t owe you anything. You came to me.” He cocked an eyebrow and gave her his most lecherous leer. “You came for me.”
No blush. That was Laura. Proper girls blushed. Not the Iron Maiden.
“I didn’t come for you. You couldn’t make me come if you tried. You have to have actual skill to achieve that and believe me, you don’t have anywhere near the skill level. You owe me, moron, because you were an ass about the whole thing. I gave you my virginity and you never even said thanks. In fact you ran like the devil was on your heels.” She jumped off the bed and pulled herself up to her full miniature height. “Now I’m collecting.”
He was almost amused. Almost.
“So I’m supposed to lay my life at your feet for you to write about in some teen magazine because I didn’t thank you for opening your legs for me a dozen years ago?”
He stepped towards her, crowding her space. She didn’t back off, instead she put her hands on her denim clad hips and glared up at him.
“I don’t work for a teen mag.”
He had to shake his head to follow the conversation.
“Yeah, that was the most important part.” He pointed at her tiny button nose. “I’m not giving you an interview. And I don’t care if you’re holding a grudge about my lack of manners. You begged me for sex.”
“I didn’t beg.”
She poked him in the chest, making him growl.
“I remember exactly what happened,” he said. “You followed me to the summer house. I told you to go away. You wouldn’t. I said what the hell do you want? You said – sex. I gave you what you wanted. It’s you who should have said thank you. Instead you had a hissy fit. So no, I don’t owe you.”
For a second he thought her green eyes flashed Satan red.
“We’ll see about that,” she warned. “This isn’t over. I want an interview. I need an interview and I’m going to get an interview. Got it, Neanderthal?”
She poked him in the chest again before storming out of the cubicle. Charlie resisted the urge to shout something childish behind her, something like – yeah, right, you and whose army? Mature. She always did bring out the mature in him.
“Thanks for the show, Charlie boy,” Frank said beside him.
Charlie looked around him as the emergency room came back into focus. He had a rapt audience. Just what he needed - more gossip fodder. People were staring at him open mouthed. The women were frowning. Laura brought out the worst in him; he said things to her, deliberately crude things, that he would never say to another woman. And now they had all heard. His last three hours were going to feel like three hundred. There wasn’t a woman in the place who didn’t look like she would eat him alive.
“Find a paddle, it’s creek time,” Frank said, confirming his thoughts. “You can’t be a woman’s first time then bolt for the exit. They don’t like that.”
He said it as though it was sage advice.
“I was twenty three.” Charlie felt the need to explain before the women grouped together and attacked. “I was having a bad day. She took me by surprise.”
The room actually grew colder.
“Not helping,” Frank told him out the corner of his mouth.
“You’ve seen her.” Charlie motioned to the exit. “She’s like a praying mantis. I was scared for my life.”
“You’re on your own.” Frank made a hasty exit.
Charlie ran his hand over his longer than fashionable hair. If he was going to make it through the rest of the shift without getting his balls handed to him on a plate there was only one thing that could save him – heartfelt honesty. Women loved that.
“I was young,” he told the women in the room. “She was my sister’s best friend and she took me by surprise. I didn’t know she felt like that about me. I should have said no, but I was a young guy with raging hormones and no self-control. Afterwards I didn’t know what to think or what to feel. I freaked out and ran away. I’m sorry.”
He tried to look contrite while keeping an eye on the room to see if the women were softening.
“Don’t you think you should tell her that, instead of us?” one of the older women said.
“Absolutely.” He nodded in what he hoped was a shame faced manner. “As soon as I finish this shift.” If I get out alive. “I will tell her exactly that.”
They didn’t look like they were about to kill him, but they sure didn’t look friendly either.
“Maybe you should apologise for tonight as well,” another woman said. “You were downright rude.”
“Yeah,” another agreed. “You’re not my Doctor Hottie anymore.”
“Doctor Moron,” someone mumbled and heads nodded in agreement.
Charlie clenched his jaw.
“Okay people,” Frank shouted. “The man is sorry. Let’s get back to work. There are sick people to deal with.”
Slowly, people wandered back to their jobs.
“Thanks man,” Charlie said when he was no longer the focus of attention.
“Don’t thank me,” Frank said solemnly. “I agree with them.”
With a growl Charlie grabbed the offered chart and threw back the curtain for his next patient. An old woman and her husband glared at him.
“Look dear,” the woman said. “I thought I was getting Doctor Hottie, but it seems we have Mr Misogynist instead.”
Charlie’s shoulders slumped as he pulled the curtain behind him.
For the first time in months Charlie didn’t have a nightmare. There were no bullets whizzing in his head. No children he couldn’t save. No comrades in arms that he had to watch die. He didn’t wake in a sweat gasping for air and he didn’t shake just thinking about trying to sleep again. For the first time in months Charlie got almost a full night’s sleep. And he had Laura to thank for it.
He padded into the kitchen in his boxer shorts, scratching his belly and wondering what the time was. He felt rested. All because of the Iron Maiden. Who would have thought? Instead of his usual nightmares, he’d dreamed about arguing with Laura. He’d actually laughed in his dream. It boggled his mind just thinking about it. The stress of dealing with Laura outweighed his experience in Afghanistan. Now wasn’t that something she could put on her C.V.? Under the heading of ‘other abilities’ she could write ‘scarier than armed conflict’.
He filled an extra-large mug with black coffee and pottered into the living room. He was halfway through a BBC news bulletin when the doorbell rang. With one eye on the large screen TV, he went to answer it.
“Oh no,” he said when he saw who was on the other side.
“Oh yes,” Laura said as she barged her way past him.
With a look of disgust she took in his surroundings.
“You better clean this place before Maddie and Dean get back.”
He looked at the surfaces covered with empty takeaway wrappers and old newspapers. There was even some discarded underwear behi
nd the couch, although he had no idea how it got there. Yep, he was a pig and proud of it.
“They’re gone for another six months.”
“It might take you that long to clean up.”
He frowned at her.
“I’m not giving you an interview.”
He folded his arms over his chest, belatedly remembering that he was almost naked. Laura didn’t seem to notice, or to care. That rankled. Sure he hadn’t been as physical since he left the army, but he still had muscle. He looked down at himself. Yep, still looking good.
“Go put something on,” she ordered. “It’s too early in the morning to look at you. I need coffee.”
“Well get it in your own flat.”
She ignored him as she headed for the kitchen.
“Get a wiggle on,” she said over her shoulder. “We need to talk and I’m on a schedule.”
Charlie stared after her. In her tiny shorts and halter top she looked like a school kid. He narrowed his eyes as he thought about it. He bet she dressed like that deliberately, thinking that if she looked like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth then he would give into her more easily. Not likely. As it didn’t look like she was going anywhere fast, he decided to pull on some clothes. One semi clean t-shirt and a pair of jeans later, he found her sitting at the breakfast bar eating his last bagel.
“Bye bye,” he said as he refilled his mug. “Be sure to let the door hit you on the way out.”
“What’s it going to take to get an interview?”
Her wavy hair was tied back in a ponytail and it swung as she turned towards him.
“More than you have to offer,” he told her.
Something like a blush nipped at the base of her neck. Had he said something that embarrassed the Iron Maiden? And here he was thinking it wasn’t possible. Slowly her eyes met his and he stilled. For some reason it was hard to swallow.
“I’ll do anything,” she said without emotion.
His stomach clenched. Was she offering sex? No. That wasn’t it. This was Laura. If she was offering sex she’d say – how about I sleep with you? So, no she didn’t mean that.
“I don’t need anything.”
“Nothing? Everybody needs something.”
A flash from the night before entered his mind. Maybe Laura could chase away his dreams for him? He shook his head to clear it.
“You know I’ll just bug you until you give in. And if that doesn’t work I’ll get Maddie and your Mum and Dad to bug you too.”
“I’m not ten, that won’t work.”
He could see her regrouping and it occurred to him that he was having fun.
“Fine, I’ll hound your every waking moment until you say something worthwhile that I can write down.”
He grinned.
“I’m on holiday, sweet cakes. Two weeks cycling holiday to be exact.”
She cringed. Charlie remembered vividly how anti sport she’d been as a kid. Maddie had been the dare devil, Laura was always the side kick. At one point she was forging a note a week to get out of gym class. A wicked thought occurred to him.
“I tell you what,” he said casually. “If you come with me, I’ll give you an interview.”
She balked, making him grin even wider.
“Two weeks on a bike?”
“With a tent.”
“Sleeping in a tent, on an airbed?”
She said it in a tone that implied it may as well have been a bed of nails.
“Roll mattress,” he clarified helpfully and watched her pale.
She drummed her pale pink nails on the counter top as she cast her eyes around the room, desperately looking for some solution to the problem.
“Where are you cycling?”
“Haven’t decided yet.”
There was no way she would go for this. Laura’s idea of a holiday stretched to taxi rides and room service. She pursed her lips, which were the exact same colour as her nails, as she thought it through. The orange halter she wore made her hair look golden. It caught the light from the kitchen window and glowed. Charlie sipped his coffee as he waited for her answer.
“I’ll go if you let me choose the destination.”
He spat coffee all over the kitchen floor. With a roll of her eyes Laura threw a towel at him so he could wipe it up.
“You did hear me right?” He crouched on the white tiles and looked up at her. “Two weeks. Bike. Tent. And you need to keep up because I’m not waiting for you.”
“Fine.”
Her expression said it was anything but fine. Her expression said it was a visit to the dentist for a root canal.
“You’ll have to carry your own stuff and put up your own tent.”
He threw the dirty dishtowel into the sink, belatedly thinking he should have used a cloth to wipe the floor.
“I get it,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Well, okay.” Charlie was stumped. Had she developed a love of the outdoors when he wasn’t looking? “Where do you want to go then?”
With a look of triumph, she folded her arms over her cute little breasts.
“Holland,” she said.
Charlie stared at her for a moment before he threw back his head and roared with laughter. She thought picking somewhere flat would make it easy. Rubbing the tears from his eyes, he laughed until he ached. Laura was not amused. She scowled at him while she waited.
“Holland it is, short stuff,” he said at last. “We leave in the morning. Better get your gear ready. I’ll pick you up at eight.”
Her eyebrows arched.
“We’re driving there?”
He could feel laughter bubbling up within him all over again.
“How else will we get the bikes over the Channel?”
The look on her face was priceless. One thing was clear; she wanted this interview pretty badly. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so hard. Charlie rubbed his palms together in anticipation. This could turn out to be the best holiday of his life.
Chapter Two
Charlie hadn’t felt even a pang of guilt about abandoning Laura for the first day of their trip. At least not until he’d arrived back at the campsite after an evening with a pretty, but vapid, blond girl. With a sinking feeling, he elbowed his way through the crowd that had gathered around the spot where he’d pitched his tent. He stopped beside two young British guys who handed him a bottle of beer without comment.
“How long has she been like this?” Charlie asked as he screwed the cap off.
“She conked out about half an hour ago.”
Charlie nodded.
“Anybody help her?”
“Naw man, it was too entertaining to watch.”
He could believe that. Facing him was the sorriest excuse for a tent that he’d ever seen. It was a brand new two layer dome and Laura obviously had no idea how to put the thing up. She’d managed to join the rods together and get most of them into the slots in the corners, but nothing was fastened to the ground and at some point her bike had fallen onto the tent making the whole thing squish to the left. Outside the tent was a tiny camping stove with a pot on top of it, the flame still burning beneath it.
“Anybody tell her there’s a camp kitchen?” Charlie asked, although he knew the answer already.
One of the young guys grinned at him.
“That’s the second gas canister. The first one blew up in her face and made her hair go funny.”
He motioned that it went straight in the air with his hands.
“We think she’s cooking beans,” the other said helpfully.
Charlie pointed to the tent and the current fascination for the crowd.
“And how did that happen?”
“Well,” the guy with the floppy hair said. “We think that blowing up her air bed was too much for her. She disappeared inside the tent without a pump. We could see her struggle to get the thing in the right position.”
“Yeah, it was obvious she was blowing it up, you could hear her sucking i
n air,” the other one said helpfully.
“Then she just sort of keeled forward,” the first one pointed to the tent.
Charlie studied the view. Gaping through the tent door was Laura’s backside, looking fine in denim shorts. It looked as though she had been kneeling and then slumped forward onto her face.
“She’s alive man,” the floppy guy said. “Madge checked.”
He signalled to an older woman, who waved back when she heard her name.
“We’re waiting to see what happens next,” the other kid said. “I think the whole tent is going to come down, but Mark here thinks she’s going to wake up and freak out.”
“Or the food will go on fire,” Mark nodded solemnly.
Charlie let out a deep sigh. It was his own fault. He shouldn’t have left her alone. He told her their agreement was for her to come on the trip, not for him to spend time with her, and then he’d cycled off leaving her to breathe a dust cloud in his wake. He sighed heavily. As tempting as it was to leave her as entertainment for the crowd, he couldn’t do it. Knowing Laura she’d find some way to blame him for this fiasco and make him suffer. A scheming Laura was a dangerous Laura. He drained his beer and handed the bottle back to the boys.
“Show’s over folks,” he said to the small group. “Unfortunately, that sorry excuse for a camper belongs to me.”
There were groans of disappointment along with one ‘way to go man, great ass,’ which came from an American guy.
The little group wandered back to their tents while Charlie went to sort the mess - but not before taking a picture on his phone. With a shake of his head, he turned off the stove before the base of the pot burned through. What was she thinking? There was a McDonald's ten minutes down the road.
Then he looked at the rest of the mess and didn’t know where to start. As he bent to pull back the tent flap he kicked something. A book. The complete idiot’s guide to camping. Well - he looked at the bum sticking out of the floppy tent - they obviously never had Laura in mind when they wrote it. He tossed it in the direction of the rubbish, along with most of the other kit he could find. The woman had brought gas lanterns. To Holland. There were no words for it. He stuck his head into the tent. Sure enough, she’d managed to get the mattress blown up before blacking out on top of it. One look at the tube of cream for muscle pain, which lay beside her, explained the fact her backside was in the air. He bet it hurt too much to lay any other way.
Second Chances Boxed Set: 7 Sweet & Sexy Romances in 1 Book Page 49