Nate held out a hand, which she took before putting a tentative heel on the running board. As she put some weight on it, a wave of dizziness crashed over her again and her skull throbbed with the beginnings of a wicked headache. Damn, I must have been quite drunk last night. She’d never felt this bad after a night of drinking. She reached out for something to grab and found a hard shoulder under her hand. There was a warmth against her waist, and she looked down to see Nate had stepped directly in front of her and had put his other hand on her waist.
He disentangled their clasped hands and put his other hand on her waist too. Joanne stared into his green eyes. She could see flecks of brown in them up this close. With effortless ease, he lifted her and lowered her slowly to the ground.
Joanne clung to those hard shoulders on the way down. She couldn’t seem to break eye contact. She felt every curve of hers move along those taut muscles on the way down. When her feet touched the ground, she didn’t pull away, although she knew she probably should.
“Joanne, where have you been?” The admonishment broke the spell Joanne was under, and she closed her eyes for a second before she stepped back from Nate. He went back to unhooking her car, which now rested on the pavement of the driveway.
She faced her grandmother. Like Joanne, Vera was tall and thin. Her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail and only showed a few streaks of gray within the light brown. Vera stood on the stoop holding the screen door open.
Joanne walked across the lawn to her grandmother. “I’m sorry, Grannie. I didn’t mean to be out all night.”
Vera’s eyes travelled to the tow truck then back to Joanne. Worry shone in her eyes. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Nothing happened.”
Just then a streak of orange fur ran past Vera’s legs and straight under the Cadillac.
“Oliver!” Vera screeched. “Oliver Twist, you come back here.”
Nate stood beside the bed of the tow truck holding the chains in his hands. He looked towards the car curiously.
Joanne rushed over to the car, trying to see under it without prostrating herself onto the ground. She’d been in enough compromising positions already this morning; there was no need to embarrass herself further. “Oliver? Ollie baby, come here.” She stuck her hand under the car and used her sweetest baby talk, trying to coax the cat out.
“Don’t let him run away,” Vera shouted
“I won’t, Grannie.”
She looked over her shoulder at Nate, who hadn’t moved. He was smirking, and his gaze moved from her ass, which was up in the air from her bent position, to her eyes. She glared and straightened, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You could offer to help, you know.”
“Looked like you were doing just fine to me.”
Joanne dropped her arms and stepped closer. “Please?” She gestured to where the cat had disappeared. “Oliver is an inside cat. Every time he gets out, he gets hurt. You wouldn’t want to put my grandmother through that, would you?” She knew that last comment was manipulative, but she was too tired to care.
Nate’s eyes narrowed at her, but he dropped the cables. “Fine.” He got on his knees beside the tire and bent underneath.
As Joanne watched Nate, she had to admit she couldn’t keep her eyes off him either. Turnabout is fair play, she justified, as her eyes took in the fluid movement of each muscle.
“Here, kitty, kitty,” he called.
“His name is Oliver,” Vera called.
“I think I can reach him.”
“You do know how to pick up a cat, right?” Joanne asked.
Nate threw her a glance from his position on the ground. “I think I got this.”
She shrugged. “Fine. Don’t blame me if you get hurt.”
He started to straighten. “Are you telling me he’s vicious? You sweet-talked me into catching a monster?”
“No. Don’t—” Oliver had seen his opportunity and started to dart from under the car between Nate and Joanne. Nate was fast though and scooped the large orange tabby up in his hands and stood to face Joanne. He smirked with a know-it-all look and stepped to her, holding the cat against his chest.
When Oliver saw Joanne, he clawed out of Nate’s arms trying to get to her. Joanne grabbed him to her before he got away again.
“Ow. Damn it.” Nate held his bleeding arm. “He’s a menace.”
“Oh no, I’m so sorry. He doesn’t like men.” She offered him a smirk then. “I did warn you though.”
Nate rubbed at his chest where Oliver had used his back legs to kick off, and Joanne saw tell-tale spots of blood staining his shirt. Chagrin filled her. She shouldn’t be so smug. This guy had offered to help and had gotten hurt because of her.
“Look, why don’t you come inside and let me clean those scratches.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“No, I insist. Cat scratches often get infected.” She shifted a now purring Oliver to one arm and put a hand on Nate’s arm. “You’ve done so much for me this morning, please let me help you now.”
“It’s just a scratch. I can do it.”
She rolled his eyes at his stubborn nature. “I’m a nurse. I know how to clean a few scratches.”
“You’re a nurse?”
She watched him as he evaluated her once again from head to foot. “Yes, I’m a nurse. Now get your ass inside and let me fix that.”
She saw a flash of something unidentifiable in his eyes before his signature grin—at least, she thought it had to be his signature grin since she’d seen it so often this morning—broke through. “Yes ma’am.”
Joanne turned to the house and started across the lawn, Nate following behind her.
“Oh, my sweet baby Oliver. Did you get hurt?” Vera cooed at Oliver. Joanne handed the cat off to her grandmother before holding open the screen door for Nate.
“Ollie is fine. It’s Nate that’s hurt,” she told her grandmother. “I’m going to clean up his scratches.”
“Oh, you poor man. You just go with Jo, she’ll fix you right up.”
Joanne led Nate to the downstairs bathroom and pointed to the toilet. He sat down on the closed lid without a word. Joanne opened the tiny door of a linen closet and pulled a plastic carry case from a shelf. She set it down on the counter, opened it, and pulled out the supplies she’d need.
When she was ready, she reached for Nate’s wrist and pulled his arm up on the counter where she could reach it. She swabbed the alcohol pad over the three lines of blood. Joanne was aware of Nate’s eyes on her the whole time, and she shifted uncomfortably. He never flinched as the alcohol hit the scratches.
His forearm was warm, and she watched the muscles move as he flexed his fingers. She felt the strength beneath her trembling fingers. Trembling? Why the hell am I shaking? she wondered. I’m a freaking nurse, for God’s sake. I clean cuts and worse all the time. Maybe it’s the hangover, she decided as she brushed the hair from her face with the same shaky arm. Her other hand never let go of Nate’s arm, not wanting to lose that contact yet.
She applied ointment to the scratches and covered them with two large bandages before letting go of his arm. She gestured to him. “Now for those.”
“Excuse me?”
“The scratches on your chest. You’ll need to take your shirt off.”
Nate glanced down, and his eyes widened in surprise as he saw the spots of blood on his shirt. “I didn’t even know he’d scratched me there.” He stood, pulled the T-shirt from his jeans, and lifted it over his head. Joanne tried not to be affected by the sight of those muscled abs so close to her. It’s just the hangover, it’s just the hangover, she kept repeating to herself. Surely that was the only reason he seemed to affect her so.
He laid the shirt over one leg as he sat back down. Joanne grabbed another alcohol pad, took a deep breath, and stepped between his open legs so she could reach him. As she touched him this time, she felt him flinch. She glanced up into his eyes. “Sorry. It might sting.�
�
“It didn’t,” he said curtly.
She didn’t see pain in his eyes, she saw something else. She broke their gaze, and she felt the heat flood her cheeks again as she returned her focus to his scratches. His chest was hairy, and Joanne was surprised that she found it sexy on him. She’d never thought about chest hair being sexy before.
She finished quickly, even though she would have loved an excuse to keep her hands moving over that beautiful body, and she turned back to the medical case to put the supplies up. She felt Nate stand up behind her and pull his shirt back on.
She didn’t look at him again as she led him back to the front door. “Thanks for bringing my car home. And for catching Oliver.”
“You’re welcome.” He turned to go and then stopped and half turned back. “And Joanne, try to stay out of trouble.” He grinned, which eased some of the sting of his words.
She nodded in reply before pushing the door shut. She leaned against it and closed her eyes. What a crazy morning. And the day had only just started. She sighed and pushed herself away from the door. She had a rehearsal dinner to prepare for. It was going to be a long day.
Chapter Three
‡
Nate checked his phone to get the location of his next job. He was sitting in the parking lot of the Nissan dealership, having just dropped off a vehicle that had broken down on I-65. He heard a sound that he didn’t recognize. He turned the radio down and looked around the truck cab, trying to identify the noise. Leaning over, he saw a phone wrapped in a pink plastic case underneath the passenger’s seat.
He reached under the seat and picked up the phone. He knew it was Joanne’s. No one else had been in his truck in the last couple of days. Still chiming, her screen lit up, and he saw a text message visible there.
JoJo don’t do this. Call me.
Well crap. It looked like Joanne might need her phone. He should probably return it to her. He grinned as an idea occurred to him. Pushing some buttons, he saw her phone was unlocked. Quickly, he added a number to her contact list.
Texting his dispatcher that he was taking a short break, he drove out of the dealership and headed back towards Green Hills.
A few minutes later, he stood on Joanne’s stoop. The door was open, but the screen door was closed. Peeking through, he didn’t see anyone in the living room just inside the entryway. He pressed the doorbell and rested his forearm on the door jamb above his head. In just a few seconds, Joanne came around the corner and towards the door. She had changed into clingy yoga pants and a tank top. She paused when she saw him outside.
“What are you doing here?” she asked without opening the door. Oliver came to the door and meowed, rubbing against her ankles.
“Forget something?” He held her phone up for her to see.
“My phone!” She reached down to scoop up the cat before opening the door and reaching for her phone.
Grinning again, he yanked the phone out of her reach. She scowled at him.
“JoJo? You go by JoJo?”
“No, I don’t. Where did you hear that anyway? I hate that nickname.” She tried to grab the phone again, which brought her into his personal space. Oliver hissed at him. “Ollie, quit. Give me my phone.”
“Someone texted you; they called you JoJo. You know, you really ought to lock your phone.”
“Why? So people like you can’t snoop on me?”
“Exactly.”
“Can I please have my phone back?”
“Yes ma’am.” He placed it in her outstretched palm. He took his arm off the door jamb and stood straight. “Well, guess I better get back to work.”
“Thank you for bringing me my phone. I don’t know what I’d have done without it today with the wedding and all.”
Nate’s heart suddenly sank. Had he been messing around with a woman who was about to get married? The text he had seen took on more meaning. That would be just my luck, finding a cute girl only to discover she was engaged. “Are you the bride?” he asked.
“Oh God, no.” She laughed, but it sounded forced to Nate’s ears. His hopes rose a little. Maybe he did have a shot after all. “My best friend’s getting married tomorrow. I’m the maid of honor.”
He nodded. So he still had a shot at a date. “Well, enjoy, I guess. Like I said, I gotta get back.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder.
“Sure. Thanks again. For everything.”
“See ya around,” he said over his shoulder as he headed for his truck.
*
Joanne watched as Nate drove away, then she put the cranky Oliver Twist down and headed upstairs to her bedroom. She had to go over to Ashlyn’s apartment and pick up all the handmade decorations that they had made over the past few weeks. Ash was one of those creative types, so different from Joanne herself. Joanne had made more messes than pretty decorations, but she’d thrown her all into the projects anyway, knowing how much they meant to her best friend.
After she picked up the decorations, she had to take them over to the banquet hall and set everything up for the wedding reception. Only after all that was done could she come back home to get ready for the rehearsal dinner. She was exhausted just thinking about it all. Luckily, Ashlyn and Rebecca, the other bridesmaid, would be helping her.
As she readied her outfit for the evening, her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and did a double take. The caller ID came up as “Stripper/Cat Rescuer/Towing” instead of a name. She shook her head and accepted the call.
“Funny, real funny. Is that the best you can come up with?” she asked.
“Hey, it got you to answer the phone, didn’t it?”
“Is there a purpose for this call?” Okay, she admitted to herself, it is sort of cute. And it was definitely a unique way to get her attention. But she couldn’t let him think he could get away with messing with her phone like that.
“Actually, there is. I wanted to ask you out to dinner.”
“When?”
“How about tonight.”
“Can’t, sorry. I have the rehearsal dinner tonight.”
“Some other time then.”
Joanne considered for a split second. Should she accept? She was still getting over her fiancé’s—ex-fiancé’s, rather—betrayal. On the other hand, what better way to get over a guy than to go out with a handsome hunk of a man? Who cares if he’s not my usual type? It’s not like I’m gonna marry him. I just needed someone to get me over Stan. “Sure,” she agreed brightly. “Call me next week. I have a lot on my mind right now with my friend’s wedding and all.”
“Great. I’m looking forward to it.”
Joanne hung up the phone in a better mood than she’d been in for weeks. Dumping Stan had been awful, but not nearly as awful as finding out about the numerous affairs he’d been having over the years. Even so, it was hard working at the same hospital as him, seeing him take advantage of his status as a prominent doctor to flirt with her coworkers. Maybe this Nate would be just the guy to help her get over Stan and his philandering.
Chapter Four
‡
Joanne closed her eyes and prayed for an end to the miserable evening. Ashlyn was her friend, but Joanne wished anyone besides herself and Stan had introduced the soon-to-be bride and groom. So, of course, Ash had wanted Joanne to be her maid of honor, while Aaron asked Stan to be his best man. No one could have predicted that Stan and Joanne, the once happy couple, would be over before their friends’ wedding even came.
Joanne pushed at the steamed broccoli on her plate. She loved broccoli but hadn’t had much of an appetite in the past month. Not since she’d found out about Stan’s numerous affairs. Even now, the thought of his lies made her stomach twist, and the few bites of food she had managed to swallow were a struggle to keep down.
Stan sat to her left at the large round table. The rest of the bridal party took up the other seats at their table, while the three other tables were filled with Ash and Aaron’s families.
As if being walked down a wedding
aisle on Stan’s arm wasn’t bad enough, she been forced to listen to him drone on throughout the entire meal. She’d managed to ignore most of what he said, focusing instead on the other conversations at the table. She didn’t want to listen to Stan. How could she know if anything he said was true? It felt like everything he’d told her over the last three years was a lie. When she’d thought he’d been at the hospital working, he’d really been fucking other women. When he’d told her he was too tired to go out, it was because he’d spent the day fucking someone else. When he’d said he wasn’t in the mood for sex, it was because he’d wasted his libido already.
Her stomach churned again, and Joanne clutched at it, forcing herself to think of something else, anything else, to stop the flood of images coming to her mind—images of Stan’s naked body entwined with other women. Her coworkers, her colleagues, supposedly her friends.
She pushed the images of Stan away. What took their place was unexpected. Nate. His sandy hair moving in the wind. That infectious grin. The wide shoulders covered in layers of muscles. She wondered what he would look like naked. Before she could rein in her mind, her imagination galloped away, and she pictured Nate shirtless, his abs flexing as she ran her fingers down them. She pictured the curve of his ass, uncovered by jeans.
Hearing her name, she came back to the present suddenly. Her breathing was heavy, and she felt the stirrings of desire low in her belly. Damn. Of course, it had been over a month since she’d had sex. Surely I have better control than that. I shouldn’t be lusting over some man I just met.
Joanne glanced around, wondering what she had missed. Stan had one eyebrow raised in irritation. It must have been him who had said something to her.
“What was that?” she asked.
Stan sighed and threw his cloth napkin onto the table. “See. This is why I felt the need to go to other women.” His voice was low, and none of the other people at the table heard his accusation.
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