by Janice Lynn
What was wrong with her? Each day that passed seemed to leave her thinking about Oz more and more.
Each day that passed made her feel a little more susceptible to his charms.
A little? Now that was a joke. Her susceptibility was growing by leaps and bounds. Oz was climbing out of that box she’d stuffed him into. She needed him crammed back in there. Pronto.
Because, even if her brain knew Oz was really the womanizing playboy she’d painted him, the Oz of late had her heart thinking perhaps he wasn’t so bad. Perhaps he’d changed and wasn’t really like Chris.
Leaning her forehead against the empty back hallway of the cardiac cath lab, she dug her fingers deeper into her tense flesh.
Moist heat blew against the back of her neck, prickling every hair, electrifying every cell in her body. She didn’t have to look to know who stood behind her. Instinctively she knew, her body recognizing Oz’s presence.
Ready to tell him to stop, that she was becoming too weak to fight him, she spun.
And toppled right into his arms.
He caught her, but didn’t let go.
God, he felt good. Smelled good.
His eyes twinkled and a smile curved his lips. “Really, Blair, can’t you wait until the night of the auction before you throw yourself at me?”
The night of the auction? Did that mean he was agreeing? That he really wanted her to bid on him?
What was she thinking?
This was Oz. He was teasing her.
She needed to get a grip.
And not on Oz’s shoulders to keep herself from falling.
Her throat tightened and the knots in her neck twisted so tight they threatened to snap. A strangled sound escaped from her open mouth.
But for the life of her, she couldn’t speak, couldn’t pull loose from his hold, couldn’t let go of him.
His eyes darkened. His smile faded. Oz drew her close. So close she could feel his breath against her cheek. “Are you okay?”
She wasn’t.
She felt light-headed. Dizzy. Breathless.
This was Oz. Why was she going into sensory overload? Why did the moist heat of his breath goose-bump her flesh? Why did she want to stretch onto her tiptoes and touch her lips to his?
His hand slid behind her, cradling the back of her neck. He held her close, his mouth centimeters from hers. “Blair?”
A hot flush drenched her skin. Her gaze dropped to his mouth.
What would it feel like to have Oz’s mouth against hers? To have him kiss her with the passion for life that coursed through his veins? Would his lips be gentle? Demanding? Warm? Cool? Would his tongue slip into her mouth? Would—
She had to stop. She didn’t want Oz. Not really. She couldn’t deal with all the emotional pain that followed being involved with a man like Oz. She couldn’t. Wouldn’t.
She placed her palms against his chest, planning to push him away. Her fingers stilled. She flattened her hand over his heart.
His racing heart.
Her pulse jumped from eighty to a few thousand beats per second.
She lifted her gaze to his.
He wanted to kiss her. Surely that was why his heart beat so fast.
Dear sweet heaven, Oz wanted to kiss her, and his heart beat as crazily as her own.
It shouldn’t matter that he was as physically affected as she was by the strange chemistry between them.
Unfortunately, it did and left her powerless against the desire erupting inside her body.
“Blair.” Oz’s lips brushed against hers. His mouth tasted hers. Soft. Gentle. Reverent.
Yet hungry.
Desperately hungry.
Starved.
She pressed against him, wanting closer, wanting as much contact as possible. Deep in her mind she registered stress had likely caused her weakness. Probably, stress had caused Oz’s reaction to her, too. But she couldn’t pull away, didn’t even want to try.
Her fingers slipped into his hair. Soft. His hair was so soft. So were his lips. Soft, yet hard.
His whole body was hard.
He pressed her against the concrete hospital wall, pushed against her, groaned. “I swore I wasn’t going to do this. I know I started it, but we have to stop. We’re in the hallway.”
He was right. If caught, she’d forever be labeled as the woman who had been making out in the back cardiac hallway with the seductive Dr Oz Manning. Eventually, he’d leave Madison, but she had no plans to leave. She’d be the one left facing the consequences of a few stolen moments of pleasure.
Nothing new there.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you, Blair.”
Rattled by his kiss and by how much she’d wanted him to keep kissing her forever, she frowned. “Why not?”
“I’d never want to hurt you or Addy.” He drew in a deep breath, raked his fingers through his hair. “A relationship between us would never work. We’re too different, want different things from life. We can’t be more than friends.”
“If we were more than friends you’d hurt me?” She knew it was true even before he answered. Hadn’t she always known? Wasn’t that really why she’d avoided him all those years? Because she’d known Oz had the power to hurt her? Perhaps even more so than Chris had?
“It’s what I do.” He took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. “What I don’t want to do to you, Blair. I don’t do commitment, you don’t do flings. This is new to me, but I really would like us to be friends.”
Blair let his words sink in, searched his eyes for some sign he was kidding. For some sign he wanted her to say yes, she’d love to have a fling with him. Because, in the insanity of the moment, that was exactly what she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. Sure, she recognized that her insanity was temporary, that she’d regret saying anything of the sort. But in the heady aftermath of Oz’s kiss, she didn’t want sanity, didn’t want logical. For once she just wanted to feel.
“I want to be friends, Blair. Say yes.”
God, he was serious. He wanted to be her friend. “Why? For Dr Talbot’s sake?”
“If Dr T is the only reason you can find, then yes, for Dr Talbot’s sake. But also because I like you, respect you and enjoy spending time with you.”
Blair considered him, admitting to herself that there was something different about Oz, that he really didn’t fit the mold she’d created for him so long ago. But that didn’t mean there could ever be anything between them.
Because he was right. He would only hurt her. Possibly Addy, too.
She forced a smile onto her numb face. “Friends it is. For Dr Talbot’s sake.”
She wasn’t looking for a man in her life, but one could never have too many friends, could one?
Or was she fooling herself that they could ignore the sparks between them and just be friends?
CHAPTER SIX
OZ MANNING might be completely undateable, but he was turning out to be a better friend than Blair would have thought.
That night they sat on Dr Talbot’s back porch, enjoying the gentle breeze blowing off the Gulf, bringing the scent of the sea with it. The sliding glass door leading into the house was open so they could hear anyone who awakened.
Addy had played with Boo-boo until they’d both run out of energy, talked Dr Talbot’s ear off until the man dozed and, when she’d finally sat still, had fallen asleep curled next to him. Stephanie had gone home shortly thereafter, leaving Blair and Oz virtually alone.
They’d been talking for hours.
“I owe so much to Dr Talbot,” she told Oz. “When I first came to Madison Memorial, I worked wherever they needed me. My long-term goal was to work in the cardiac unit, but I was so nervous my first day there. I’d heard horror stories about what a bear Dr Talbot was and, of course, I’d been assigned to work directly with him.”
Blair smiled at the memory.
“Instead of being a grizzly, he taught me more about cardiac nursing in a week than the entire time I was in school.” She’d soa
ked up every tidbit, every drop of knowledge. “Thanks to his request that I be his personal nurse, I worked hands-on with him from almost the time I graduated from nursing school.”
“He’s a brilliant teacher.” Oz stared into the dark backyard. “The best.”
“He insisted I have formal cardiac training.” She might have gotten a certificate from the school, but the class hadn’t taught her anything Dr Talbot hadn’t already shown her. “Whoever permanently takes his place—God, I hate the thought of him never returning to the hospital—I’ll be qualified to work with them.”
“You won’t have problems keeping up with any heart surgeon, Blair. You’re an excellent cardiac nurse.”
Warmth spread through her at his praise.
“Thanks. If anything new comes up, I’ll learn.” She looked up at the stars. Why did it feel so easy to tell Oz all these things when just the night before, she had still been professing not to like him? Why was she telling him about herself? Why did doing so feel so right?
Did the label of “friend” really make that much of a difference? Or had this ease been there all along but masked by the barriers thrown between them in order to protect her heart?
“You enjoyed school?”
She nodded. “I love learning. Had it not been for Reesee and Addy, I’d have gone further with my education. Perhaps obtaining a master’s or a doctorate degree in acute care. I still may go back at some point.”
“Dr T mentioned that you raised your sister.”
“In many ways, we raised each other.” Blair stared at a tiny plane’s light moving across the sky. “My mother died when I was nineteen. I moved out of my dorm, got an apartment and convinced a judge to give me custody of Reesee. She was thirteen at the time.”
“There wasn’t anyone else to take her in?”
“If you mean, was her father around, the answer is no. He wasn’t. My mother was a good woman and a good mother, but she had a tendency to become involved with men who didn’t stick around.” Just like Blair. “The state was going to put Reesee into foster care. I couldn’t bear that. Besides, I wanted her with me. We’ve always been close.”
“You’ve been a blessing to her.”
“As she’s been to me.” Feeling his gaze on her, she elaborated. “Less than a year after I got custody of Reesee, I gave birth to Addy. Without Reesee’s support and unconditional love, I don’t know where I’d be.”
“You’d be fine, Blair, because you’re strong, a survivor.”
Yes, that was what she’d often told herself. But she rested her head against Oz’s shoulder, just to see how it would feel to lean on someone. A friend.
Silence enveloped them. Blair felt no need to speak, and instead soaked in the sounds around them. Insects. The sea. A car off in the distance. She soaked in Oz’s strength rather than feign any false sense of bravado.
She wasn’t strong, wasn’t brave. She’d simply done what had needed to be done. She’d promised to take care of her sister, and she had. Just as she’d taken care of Addy from the moment she’d discovered the precious life growing inside her body.
Chris had never been a part of Addy’s life, had never shared any of Blair’s joy or fears. How could he when he’d died mere weeks before Blair had discovered her pregnancy?
Why was she bothering with the past? A total waste of her time. She needed to focus on the future. On getting Reesee through college and making sure Addy had a healthy, normal start in life.
Whatever normal was.
Probably not a household of three females and an adopted grandfather figure who was fighting for his life.
Then there was Oz.
Where did he fit into the picture?
As her new friend?
His kiss had felt more than friendly. Way more. Yet she agreed that a relationship between them would never work. She didn’t have time for a relationship. Particularly not with a man who had no plans to stick around. That would be asking to get hurt and wasn’t that Oz’s reputation with women anyway? To leave them brokenhearted?
They were better off as friends. Besides, being his friend was nice.
She rubbed her cheek against the soft cotton of his T-shirt, breathed in his spicy scent, liked that his arm went around her, cradling her against him, his hand resting low on her back.
Lately, everything came back to Oz in one way or another.
She couldn’t escape him at work. She couldn’t escape him at home as Addy chatted about him incessantly. She couldn’t escape him at Dr Talbot’s.
Maybe they could just be friends.
And, if they couldn’t, Lord, protect her heart.
“I’m glad you came to visit tonight.”
They stood next to Blair’s car with Oz holding a sleeping Addy in his arms. Dr Talbot had stirred, and they’d gone into the house so Blair could bid him good-night. Addy had still been asleep curled next to him and hadn’t wakened when Oz scooped her up to take her to the car for Blair.
“I enjoyed tonight, too.” Blair glanced up at the sky, at the brilliant stars sparkling down at her. She marveled at the world around her. At how tiny she was in the grand scheme of the universe. Yet, in that moment, standing so near Oz with her daughter safely tucked into his arms, she could believe the world evolved around this moment. That they were meant to be. That Oz was the missing link to connect the broken lines of her heart and make her whole.
She’d obviously lost her mind.
“Dr T enjoyed seeing you.” Oz smiled down at her. “He always perks up when you and Addy visit.”
“We love him,” Blair answered simply, wondering if she was imagining that Oz was procrastinating saying good-night. Did friends do that?
“I’ll see you in the morning? At the Heart Association center to help Stephanie?” He shifted Addy’s sleeping body in his arms.
“We’ll be there by nine.”
“I’ll bring coffee and donuts.”
“Sounds good, but better add orange juice for Addy. She has enough energy without coffee.”
“Right.” Grinning, Oz’s gaze dropped to the little girl he held. “She’s something else, isn’t she? You’re blessed, Blair. Addy is a special little girl. Just like her mother.”
Why did his compliment settle in her belly and blossom outward, spreading warmth throughout her entire being?
“Thank you.” Blair stared at him in the starlight.
Silence stretched.
“I guess you should put her in her seat so I can take her home.”
“Yes.”
Blair turned, opened her car door and moved aside to let him deposit her sleeping daughter into the car. The interior light shone bright and the open door dinged. Addy stirred, looked at Blair with bleary eyes, then dozed off again while Oz struggled to get the safety straps properly latched.
“Let me.” She stepped close and popped the pieces together with the ease of having done so a thousand times.
“Right,” Oz said self-derisively at how easily she’d done what he’d struggled with.
She shut the car door, but made no move to go around to the driver’s side. She and Oz stood close. Close enough to feel his body heat. Close enough that she fought filling her lungs with his wonderfully male scent.
Friends, she reminded herself again. They were going to be friends.
“I should go.”
“You should.” He cupped her face, tracing his thumb along her cheek.
Her pulse tapped against her throat. Yes, yes, yes, it shouted.
“Addy,” she whispered, not quite sure what else to say, but knowing she needed a reminder of why she should go, of why she and Oz could only be friends, because her body had completely forgotten.
“Right.” He let go of her chin and rammed his hands into his pockets. “Good night, Blair. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Oz balanced the bag of donuts, the tray of coffee cups and juice, and opened the door to the Heart Association with his shoulder.
He’d already pushed
Dr Talbot in his wheelchair into the building. Stephanie and Blair had made a fuss, taking over the moment the older man was inside the building. Oz had gone back for their breakfast and to park his SUV.
Stepping inside the building, he took in the scene before him. Addy leaned in, whispering something to Dr T, eliciting a smile from him as only the little girl could. Stephanie watched with longing in her eyes—longing that bespoke of feelings much deeper than friendship. Blair was looking at Oz, but quickly glanced away when their gazes met, pretending she hadn’t been watching him.
He’d wanted to kiss her last night. Badly.
But he’d been serious when he told Blair they should only be friends.
If he got involved with Blair, he’d hurt her and then where would that leave them?
No matter how much he wanted Blair Pendergrass—and he did want her—he couldn’t have her. Blair was a white picket fences and PTA meetings kind of woman, a mother. He might not be the playboy he had once been, but he was no saint. He didn’t plan to commit to a woman. Ever. Manning men shouldn’t commit.
They couldn’t commit even when they’d vowed to do so.
As long as Oz lived, he’d never do to a woman what his father had done to his mother. Oh, yeah, if he and Blair became involved he’d hurt her, hurt Addy. He suspected he wouldn’t forgive himself easily for those transgressions.
“Here, let me take some of that.” Stephanie reached for the tray of drinks. “Oz, this coffee smells heavenly. I swear you’re an angel.”
An angel? He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. He was no angel. Far from it.
His gaze met Blair’s. Fire burned low in his gut.
Hellfire.
No, he wasn’t a saint or an angel.
Far, far from it.
“Please, Mommy, can we go to the beach?”
They’d finished hammering out the fine details of the fund-raiser. Dr T had grown tired. Oz had loaded him into his SUV. The girls had followed them to Dr T’s house.
After having been indoors all morning, they sat outside on the back patio. The sun shone. A soft breeze blew in from the sea. It was a gorgeous day.