Crazy For You (Last Frontier Lodge Novels Book 8)

by J. H. Croix

  Crazy For You

  A Last Frontier Lodge Novel

  J.H. Croix

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 J.H. Croix

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 9781542889179

  ISBN-10: 1542889170

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  To starting over…and over and over again.

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Excerpt: Once Burned by J.H. Croix; all rights reserved

  Find my Books

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Sawyer Hamilton gritted his teeth and swore under his breath as he climbed the stairs into the hospital. Searing pain shot through his knee when he cleared the last step. He swallowed his next muttered curse and navigated through the revolving door, not an easy thing to do with a bum knee. Once he made it inside, he paused and glanced around. He’d refused his brother’s offer to accompany him here and for the moment, he temporarily regretted it. He was tired of being in pain and not in the mood to find his way around a labyrinth. The hospital in Diamond Creek, Alaska was much larger than he’d anticipated with several long hallways branching off the main entrance. He scanned the signs, looking for anything that would tell him where the laboratory was. He finally saw the sign indicating he needed to find his way to the third floor.

  He limped into the elevator, relieved no one else happened to be waiting. The elevator whispered to a stop, and he stepped off. When he saw another sign for the laboratory pointing down a long hallway, he swore again and limped his way there. Sitting down with a sigh, he leaned his head against the wall and waited, doing his damnedest to ignore the pain radiating from his leg. While he waited, a few other people rotated in and out of the waiting room. He could feel the curious gazes on him, but he ignored them. He was accustomed to feeling strong, the opposite of how he’d been feeling since he’d had a close encounter with an IED in Iraq. He’d been lucky all in all, yet it didn’t change the fact he was about sick to death of limping around. He’d rather be invisible right about now.

  “Sawyer Hamilton?”

  At the sound of his name, he glanced up—straight into a pair of breathtaking blue eyes. He stared at the woman standing across the room. Aside from her stunning eyes, she had a heart-shaped face with a creamy complexion and rosy cheeks. Combined with her almost black hair, she was plain gorgeous. He must’ve stared a beat too long because the woman to whom the eyes belonged arched a brow. He stood. “That’s me.”

  The woman pushed off the shoulder she’d been leaning against the doorframe and stepped to him. “Violet Carter,” she said, holding a hand out.

  Sawyer closed his palm around hers and felt a jolt of electricity race up his arm and radiate through his body. Violet had a firm, no-nonsense handshake. “Follow me,” she said briskly as she turned and walked through a door that led to, guess what, another hallway.

  He took a deep breath and followed, his eyes drawn to the swing of Violet’s hips as she walked ahead of him. She was all curves, more so because she was on the shorter side. If the top of her head reached his chin, he’d be surprised. With him roughly an inch above six feet, that didn’t mean she was particularly short. Her generous hips swayed with each step, along with her almost-black hair swinging in a ponytail. Her hair was tied back with a bright purple ribbon to match her purple scrubs. She glanced over her shoulder and paused to wait for him.

  “Sorry. I walk too fast sometimes,” she said with a rueful smile when he reached her side.

  “Don’t think it’s you walking too fast. It’s me gimping along behind you,” he said wryly.

  Her eyes crinkled with her smile. “You’re not too gimpy, although I bet it feels like it to you. Come on, we’re almost there,” she said, tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow. Somehow, she managed to take just enough weight off his bad side for the pain to ease slightly.

  He didn’t know what to think about his body’s reaction to Violet. All she’d done was curl her hand around his elbow and another jolt of electricity zinged through him. He hadn’t given a thought to a woman in months—not since his accident. Before that, well, it was safe to say his life hadn’t allowed much time for relationships, casual or otherwise. He’d been on active duty as a Navy SEAL for the last ten years. That meant confidential missions all over the world and frequent travel. When he was home for visits with family, all he wanted was to turn his brain off. He’d had a few casual relationships here and there, but since he’d gotten too close for comfort with an IED, he’d gone through one round of surgeries and was on indefinite medical leave. He’d shattered his femur so badly, it had taken six hours for them to piece it together with steel pins. His femur was healed now, but a few bits of shrapnel had been missed in the emergency surgery, so he was finally cleared to get those removed. While the pain was relentless, he’d been advised his recovery after this would be swift compared to what he’d been through so far.

  Despite that, his leg would never be the same again. He’d sustained too much damage. He was out of sorts and the last thing on his mind was any woman. Yet, Violet’s mere presence caught his body’s attention.

  Violet paused to open a door and gestured him through. “Have a seat,” she said, pointing to a chair beside a counter.

  Sawyer hated how accustomed he’d become to the feel of medical offices and labs. This room felt like any of the many medical labs he’d visited in the last few months. The space held a sterile feeling with its white walls and gleaming tile floors. Everything was white and stainless steel. Violet closed the door and sat down in front of him, lifting a clipboard off of a wheeled table beside her. She scanned whatever was clipped there before looking up at him. “Looks like they have you scheduled for surgery in Anchorage next week. We’re just doing some preliminary tests for your surgery. Any questions before I draw your blood?”

  He looked over into her eyes—a deep, translucent blue that he could lose himself in—and lost track of what she said. Her eyes stood out against her creamy complexion and dark hair. She arched a brow. “Sawyer? You with me here?”

  “Oh right. Uh, nope, no questions. Let’s just get this done.”

  Those gorgeous blue eyes scanned his face, and he felt as if she could see right through him to the man who was weary from pain and stumbling through how to accept the reality of ph
ysical limitations for the first time in his life. He closed his eyes, shuttering himself the only way he could.

  “Okay. Let’s get this done. Are you left handed or right handed?” she asked, her voice matter of fact but warm.

  “Right. Why do you ask?” he countered, opening his eyes again. He’d been in and out of doctor’s offices and the hospital for months, and no one had bothered to ask that question.

  She reached over and lowered the arm to the chair on his left side, patting it for him to rest his arm there. “So I can draw blood from your non-dominant side. No sense in making your strong side sore. I promise I do my best to make it painless, but there’s always a little residual soreness. Can’t stab you and have it be totally pain free,” she said with a grin.

  “You call it stabbing?” he asked with his own grin. The desire to smile came infrequently of late, so it was nice to banter about something silly like this.

  Violet rolled her eyes as she busied herself getting a few vials out and carefully lining up her instruments on the small table at her side. “I’m teasing. It’s not really stabbing, just a poke with a needle. I guess not a lot of people want to be a phlebotomist, but I did. I had leukemia when I was a little girl. I had my blood drawn so often I got really particular about whether they were doing a good job. I decided I might as well do it myself,” she said with a shrug as she turned to him again.

  She was so lively and warm, it was hard to imagine her being sick. Just considering it made his heart clench. “Are you…?” He trailed off, realizing he’d been about to get more curious than he should.

  “Still sick? Nope. Most children diagnosed with leukemia experience a full recovery. I’ve been clear for years, but I spent plenty of time in the hospital before that. I’m healthy as a horse now,” she said with a wink. “Anyway, onto you. We have to do the obvious dance now.”

  “The obvious dance?” he asked, having no idea what she meant.

  “The dance where I ask you incredibly obvious questions to confirm who you are and why you’re here. You know, all the stuff that would be a complete nightmare if we mixed it up.”

  “Oh right. Sawyer Hamilton, date of birth October 11th, 1983.”

  Violet smiled slowly. “You’ve done this a few times. Okay, the paperwork says you’re here for preoperative testing for knee surgery scheduled next week. Is that correct?”

  “Sure is,” he replied, unable to keep from returning her slow smile.

  “We’re done with the obvious dance.” She shifted to all business. In seconds, she’d prepped his arm and drawn blood so quickly, he barely noticed.

  As she carefully labeled the vials of blood, he rolled his sleeve down. “Well, that was the most painless blood draw I’ve ever had.”

  He could see her lips curl in a smile from the side. She set the vials in a rack and spun in her chair to face him. “I do my best. Trust me, I became a discerning patient when it came to getting my blood drawn. Try being a kid and getting poked with needles all the time. I hated it and especially hated when people were careless about it.”

  “You set a high bar,” he said with a slow nod. He couldn’t quite believe he was bantering about getting his blood drawn. It wasn’t just bantering, it was flirting and he damn well knew it. At the moment, he didn’t care to ponder how much he was enjoying it.

  “So, I can’t say I’ve seen you around town before. Are you from Diamond Creek?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Nope. I’m visiting my brother, Gage Hamilton. He owns Last Frontier Lodge…” He paused and gestured vaguely in the direction of the lodge. “I, uh, I’m on leave from active duty until they clear me. I was born here, but our parents moved away when I was a kid. Gage came back to renovate the lodge our grandparents owned. Then my brother Garrett moved here and my sister Jessa too. I figured I’d rather be laid up here with family nearby than anywhere else.”

  Violet smiled. “Oh, I know who your family is! Can’t say I know them well, but I’ve met them all in passing one way or another. It’s kinda hard not to eventually know everyone around here.”

  “Are you what they call local?”

  She threw her head back with a laugh, and his whole body tightened. Holy hell. With those amazing blue eyes and her dark hair, when her cheeks flushed it sent electricity spinning through his veins.

  “I suppose I’m local now, but I’m not from here. I think you have more cred than me since you were born here. I moved here from New York City about a year and a half ago. I wanted a change of pace, and I definitely found it here.”

  “I’d say. So you like it here?”

  “I love it. Diamond Creek’s small, but with all the tourists, there’s great shopping, great restaurants and plenty to do. Lots of people complain about the cost of living here, but it’s hard to beat New York City for that.” She grinned again, and he was starting to learn if he wanted to improve his mood and take his mind off of the endless weary loop of pain, all he needed to do was spend more time with her.

  “I’ll bet,” he finally managed to reply when she arched a brow again.

  He sat there, not wanting to leave and wondering how to drag this appointment out.

  Violet sat there grinning like a fool and wondering how to keep Sawyer Hamilton in her office a little longer. Foolish didn’t quite capture how she felt. She’d looked across the waiting room at him and her heart had skipped a beat. Sawyer was all kinds of sexy with his chocolate brown hair, smoky gray eyes and body to die for. It didn’t surprise her in the slightest to learn he was military. The man’s body looked as if it had been carved from stone. She could tell he was in some pain, which bothered her more than it should. She dealt with patients experiencing pain all the time. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel empathy for all of them, even the cranky, irritable patients who took out their frustration on her. Yet, with Sawyer, she wanted to hold him close and make the pain melt away. He held a sense of weariness that hit her right in her heart.

  You just think he’s sexy as hell.

  Maybe so, but that’s not all.

  She caught herself about to shake her head, a response to her internal conversation with herself. She needed to stop drooling over this guy and be professional. Even if it seemed like there was a little buzz between them, Sawyer was here to get his blood drawn, not to have her fantasize about him. She looked over at him again. His eyes locked onto her. The color was like nothing she’d ever seen—the sky on a stormy day, smoky with flashes of silver. A shiver raced through her, followed with heat rolling through her in a wave.

  For a moment, she was frozen, so startled at the intensity of her body’s reaction to nothing more than a look from him that she couldn’t move. This was so not her. This time she actually shook her head, standing abruptly as she did. She started to walk swiftly and came to a screeching halt, the screech part in her mind of course, when she heard him stand carefully and then mutter a curse.

  She turned back, her heart giving a little squeeze when she saw the tight lines on his face. “I didn’t mean to rush you. Are you okay?”

  His smoky gaze met hers again, but this time she braced herself. He straightened, and her eyes just had a mind of their own, greedily following the line of his strong shoulders and along his muscled chest. Dear God, even his hands were strong and sexy. The back of one palm was marked with a scar, while a black tattoo curled around his wrist in bold strokes. He cleared his throat, and her eyes whipped up, her cheeks heating instantly. If he noticed she was all but eating him up with her eyes, he didn’t let on. He gave his knee a careful shake and then took a step toward the door, grimacing. “Damn!” His muffled exclamation gave her heart another squeeze.

  “Are you…?” Her question trailed off when his eyes met hers.

  “I’m fine. Hate to admit it, but I suck at dealing with pain. I’m not willing to take those damn meds that make my brain fuzzy, so I’m getting through it with lots of swearing. It really only hurts when I go from sitting to standing and vice versa. Hard to believe,
but I’m doing a hell of a lot better than I was. I was clunking around in a cast for my shattered femur for two months. All that’s left are a few bits of shrapnel. They’re the pain equivalent of mosquitoes, relentless and annoying as hell.”

  She bit her lip and caught herself twirling the end of her ponytail, one of her dead giveaway nervous habits. She resisted the urge to ask him all kinds of questions about how he got injured. She had enough sense to know injuries involving shrapnel happened only in certain situations, but now certainly wasn’t the time or place to pelt her questions at him. She dropped her ponytail and next thing she knew, she was fiddling with the pen she kept in her pocket. Sawyer closed the distance between them, his steps smoother now. He rested his hand on the counter beside the door and looked over at her. Meanwhile, she seemed to be stuck again. He was close enough she could feel the heat emanating from him. Her belly did a slow flip and her pulse skittered wildly.

  His words fell into the quiet, weighted moment. “Don’t suppose you’d help me find my way out.”

  “Of course. Come on.” Without thinking, she slipped her hand in the crook of his elbow and gave him a gentle tug. “I’ll make sure we get you all the way to the front entrance.”

  He pushed off the counter and gamely walked alongside her. His limp wasn’t too bad once he got going. Questions spun through her mind. She wanted to know everything about him all at once. They made their way down the long hallway upstairs and into the elevator. She thought perhaps she should ease her hand free from where she’d curled it around his arm, but she didn’t want to stop touching him. She savored the subtle flex of his muscles under her grip. He didn’t seem inclined to tug free and simply leaned a shoulder against the side of the elevator, angling his body toward hers.