“A lot more!”
He grinned, and adorable dimples formed in his cheeks.
She looked away. “I didn’t mean it like that!”
“Come on.” He leaned down and spoke directly in her ear. “We’ll change you into Captain Huddle in the supply closet and go out the service exit in the back.”
She thought about that. It might work. “My shift’s not over.”
“I’ll wait.”
She knew she wasn’t as focused on work as she should be and quickly decided to ask Jane if she could leave early. “Give me a minute.”
She went back to Jane, who shooed her out. She returned to Jared’s side, and he started walking quickly toward the exit by the stairs. Most people took the other exit by the elevators. He opened the door to the stairwell and walked briskly up three flights of stairs. She followed behind, a little out of breath at his breakneck pace. His legs were longer.
He inclined his head to follow him and she did, stepping around the corner and into a supply closet. He turned on the light, locked the door, and turned to her. “Ready?”
The space was small, forcing them to stand close enough that she could feel his body heat. Or maybe she was just overheated from…the trip upstairs. “I guess so.”
He plopped the porcupine hat on her head. Then he handed her the eye mask.
“How’d you know about the service exit?” she asked. “That’s just supposed to be for suppliers.”
He flashed a smile. “Or for nurses who don’t want to be seen leaving the building with me.”
She set the eye mask and hat on a nearby shelf. “Do you sneak out nurses a lot through the service exit?”
He untied the cape and set it on the shelf with the mask and hat. “Lucky for you, I do. But, in my defense, they hunt me down.” He winked. “I’m both fun and discreet.”
She rolled her eyes. “Shirt.”
He took a small step back to take the T-shirt off over his gray long-sleeved shirt, giving her a glimpse of golden skin and mouthwatering abs. She quickly looked away. He pushed the warm shirt into her hand.
“Turn around,” she told him.
“Why? You naked under your scrub shirt?”
He lifted the end of the shirt to peek, and she slapped his hand away. “Jared!”
“What? You’ve got some kind of undershirt on.”
“It’s a tank top. Would you just turn around?” She didn’t want her tank top to pull up with her scrub shirt.
He turned. “Okay, but I have to warn you, I have eyes in the back of my head.”
She found herself smiling despite the stressful situation. “I thought that was just moms that had that.” She pulled off her scrubs shirt and set it on the nearby shelf.
“So do horny doctors. No one ever told you that?”
“No!” she said on a laugh. She pulled the T-shirt over her tank top. It was warm and smelled like soap, apple pie, and Jared. How long had it been since she’d worn a man’s shirt? A vision of wearing her ex-boyfriend’s T-shirt came to her vividly. Another heartbreaker for an altogether different reason. She was extremely unlucky in the love department.
“Okay,” she said over the lump in her throat.
He turned back. “What’s wrong?”
She was taken aback, surprised he knew she was upset. “Nothing.”
He tilted his head and studied her. “You sure? Nothing more than you’re in a supply closet hiding from the press in a porcupine costume with a horny doctor?”
She laughed and he grinned, laugh lines forming around his green eyes. “Nope. Nothing more than that.”
He slid the eye mask on her, settled the hat over her head, and tied the cape around her shoulders expertly. Somehow him dressing her in the small space felt intimate.
He gazed at her for a moment, his warm hands resting on her shoulders. “You look adorable. You should’ve been Captain Huddle all along.”
She shook her head. “The kids know me. Besides, it’s nice, especially for the boys, to have some male energy in the wing. Usually it’s a lot of women nurses taking care of them.”
He slid his hands from her shoulders down her arms, leaving a tingling path before stopping to squeeze both of her hands. “You like male energy?”
Her breath caught at the heated look in his eyes. “We should go,” she said in what she hoped was a convincing voice because she was getting a little too cozy in the supply closet with Dr. One-and-Done.
He nodded once and pulled her quickly out of the space, still holding her hand. They hurried down the hall, up another flight of stairs, and down a service elevator. Her heart raced as the elevator descended to the main floor. She really, really hoped this worked. Jared, at her side, was utterly calm. The elevator doors opened into a dingy back hallway. Jared went ahead of her, opened the exit door, and she followed, stepping out into bright sunshine and an empty blacktopped area.
She stopped and realized she hadn’t thought this through. The parking lot was on the other side of the building. They’d still have to walk around to get to her car or his. “Now what?”
“Now we walk away.”
He took her hand and started walking toward the service driveway and then onto a side street. She stopped, but he pulled her along. “Come on,” he said. “I live a few blocks from here.”
“Wait, we’re going to your house?”
“Sure. We’ll have lunch and hang out. Then we’ll call over to the hospital, and when the coast is clear, you can pick up your car.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t realized she was going to be hanging out with him at his place. He might’ve mentioned it. Still, his plan had worked, and she found herself relaxing more and more the further they got from the hospital.
Finally they reached a well-maintained Colonial with stained wood siding and white trim. The yard was neat with lush grass and hedgerows on either side of the small front porch.
“Welcome to Chez Reynolds, Madam Porcupine,” he said grandly, opening the front door and ushering her in.
She stepped inside, simultaneously relieved that she’d actually made her escape from the press and nervous that she was now in the infamous love den of Dr. Reynolds. She looked around, expecting some cheesy bachelor pad with a huge TV and sofa, but instead the space was surprisingly homey with a honey-colored wood coffee table, matching end tables, and a five-shelf bookcase. The dark green sofa was a sectional with a chaise lounge on one end that would be perfect for stretching out when watching TV. He did have the expected large flat-screen TV mounted to the wall. A throw rug with round circles of ruby red, orange, and yellow reminded her of fall. It was exactly the kind of homey space she would’ve done herself.
She turned to him. “Thank you. That could’ve went so-o-o badly. We both could’ve ended up in the news like some kind of sex scandal love triangle. I appreciate you taking that risk.”
He pulled the hat off her head and then the eye mask. “It was nothing.” He smoothed her hair with his warm hand. “I’m the idiot always running toward danger.”
She untied the cape herself before he could get a chance to undress her further. “Well, today I’m glad.”
He smiled at her, his warm green eyes holding her in thrall again with that most-wonderful-woman-in-the-world gaze he did so well. “Me too.”
She tore her gaze away. No man had ever looked at her like that. Imagine what that look could do to you in bed. Not that she was lining up for a turn.
She took a step back and gestured for him to turn around. It wasn’t that she cared about him seeing her tank top. It was just the tank had a habit of clinging to her clothes as she took them off.
“Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll cover my eyes.” He slapped a hand over his eyes and peeked at her between his fingers.
“You’re shameless.”
He grinned and dropped his hand. “I really am.” He turned away, giving her privacy.
She pulled off the shirt and realized in her rush to escape that she’d left her scrub
s shirt in the supply closet. She crossed her arms, a little chilly now in just her tank top and scrubs pants. “I left my work shirt in the supply closet.”
He turned, his gaze dropping to her breasts and then snapping back to her eyes. “I’ll get you a sweatshirt,” he said and quickly headed upstairs.
“Thanks.” She went to admire the empty bookcase. The wood was gorgeous with a beveled trim and still carried a woodsy scent. She inspected the rest of the furniture, which also had beveled trim in matching wood stain. It was all quite beautiful, like the expensive pieces you’d find in a high-end furniture store.
Jared cleared his throat, and she turned. “Did you make this furniture?”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Yup. How did you know? Amateurish?”
“Not at all. It’s gorgeous. I guessed because the bookcase smells freshly cut and it’s empty.” She admired it some more before turning back to him. “You’re very skilled.”
He handed her a red University of Medicine and Dentistry New Jersey (UMDNJ) sweatshirt probably from where he went to medical school. She quickly slipped on the oversized shirt, feeling warm and safe in it like a big fleecy hug. She lifted her long hair out of the collar.
He gazed at her for a long moment. “It’s just a hobby. Relaxes me to do some woodworking. You hungry?”
And, to her surprise, her appetite was back. “Yes.”
Chapter Four
Jared slapped together a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches and poured Fritos on the plates. Emily had already settled at the round table in his eat-in kitchen, sitting ramrod straight. He figured she was tense after being front-page news again. He set a plate in front of her and took the seat next to her. He dove into lunch and gave her a sideways glance to make sure she was eating too. After a few moments, he asked, “You want to tell me your side of the scandal story?” She’d never spoken about it publicly. He was really curious to know her take on it. And now that she was sitting in his kitchen, so close, so beautiful, he also really needed to know if she was married.
Emily froze, sandwich halfway to her mouth. “Can I get a drink?”
“Sure, what do you want? Water? Milk? Gatorade?”
“Any alcohol?”
“Oh, ho, ho. Hitting the hard stuff this early, are we?”
She blew out a breath. “I’ve had a rough week.”
“I hear ya.” He stood. “How you like scotch?”
“Never had it.”
“Well, you are in for a treat. This is the good stuff.” He poured them both a small amount in a couple of glass tumblers and set them on the table. “Bottoms up.” He took a healthy swallow, feeling the burn down his throat to his stomach. “Ahh.”
She did the same, swallowing the whole thing down, and then started a coughing fit that made him laugh. Newbie.
“You like it?” he asked.
She wiped her eyes. “Yes,” she croaked. She took a bite of sandwich.
He took pity on her and got up to fetch her a glass of milk.
“I’ll take another,” she said.
He froze. “Really?”
“Hit me.” She slammed the glass on the table.
He shook his head. “All right, but I expect some juicy secrets after two drinks.”
She tried to glare at him but just ended up looking adorable with her pink pursed lips. He poured her a glass of milk, and then with his back to her, he watered down her next serving of scotch. He set them both in front of her, grabbed a glass of water for himself, and adjusted his chair a little closer to her, hoping it would lead to some good secret spilling.
She drank the whole glass of scotch in one long swallow, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and coughed. “Thanks,” she croaked.
He dipped his head. They ate their lunch in silence for a few minutes. He’d discovered that a well-timed silence could get women talking. Emily didn’t disappoint.
“You know the problem with men?” she asked.
He leaned in. “Tell me.”
“Big cheaters,” she pronounced with a nod. She pointed a Frito at him, looked at it, and took a bite.
“That’s hardly fair to paint us all with the same brush. I never cheated. I just don’t stick around. So your ex was a cheater. Ex, right?”
She murmured something that sounded like mmm-hmmm, or it might’ve been a really long mmm. Either way, he took that as a yes.
He pounded a fist on the table. “Fuck him. He didn’t deserve you.”
“I’m never gonna fuck him again!”
He raised his fist for a fist bump, and she gave him one. He took a bite of sandwich and then a drink of water. “So, tell me your version of the scandal. We’ve all heard his side, but you refused to speak about it.”
She sighed and took a bite of sandwich.
“I’ll tell you one of my secrets.”
That got her attention. She set her sandwich down, pushed her long dark brown hair behind her ears, and regarded him curiously. “Really?”
“Really. Only if you promise to share one of your scandal secrets.”
“You first.”
“Okay. I, uh, gosh, this is hard for me.” He looked at the table, fighting back a grin.
She took his hand and held it. “It’s okay. This won’t leave this room.”
“Sometimes I have impure thoughts.”
She scowled and shoved his hand back on the table.
“Ouch. Be careful.” He lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers. “These hands are precision instruments.”
She picked up a Frito and pointed it at him. “Are you ever serious?”
“Not if I can help it.”
She stared at the Frito then licked it. His jeans got tight.
“He is your ex, right?” he asked. “You’re divorced?”
“Yup. Totally and completely dee-vorced.” She put the Frito in her mouth and chewed. “I’m never getting married again. Men are pigs.”
“Is that why you turned me down?”
“I told you why I turned you down.” She fed him a Frito. “Your reputation precedes you.”
He wanted her, there was no question. He couldn’t resist trying one more time. “My rep is overrated,” he informed her.
She raised a brow. “Yeah? They say you’re one and done, but it’s worth it.”
He chuckled. “That’s why you called me Dr. One-and-Done. Maybe it’s not overrated then. That doesn’t make me a pig. Everyone knows going in it’s just for fun.”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s what they all say.” She went back to her sandwich. “Tell me a real secret,” she said around a mouthful of sandwich. “I really want to know about you.”
No one ever asked what was in his head. Most women just liked the package, his body and what it could make them feel. He double-checked if she really wanted to know. She set her sandwich down and stared at him, her body stock-still. “Go on,” she said softly.
He put his sandwich down, took a deep breath, and blurted, “I never commit because then they might figure out I’m not so great and leave me.” A weight lifted from his shoulders just saying that out loud. He’d had that fear in the back of his mind ever since Jen left him.
Her brown eyes widened. “Jared, wow. That was so deep.” She propped her head on her hand and stared at him. “Has that ever happened to you?”
“Yeah. Last year after I finished my residency.” He ate some more sandwich, and when she just sat there, head propped on her hand, listening, he added, “We lived together for six months. She left because I wasn’t exciting enough. As much as I’m an adrenaline junkie, I also like working on the house. You know, fixing things, making stuff. Sometimes I’ll work on the truck. I always find something to do.”
She stared at him with those sympathetic brown eyes for so long he feared he would blurt out more deep shit, so he stood and poured himself some more scotch. Finally, she spoke. “This doesn’t leave this room.”
He returned to the table, eager to hear her side of the sex-scandal story
. “No, ma’am.”
“My ex wanted things he couldn’t get from me, so he hired prostitutes to do them.”
He hissed. “Bastard.”
She seemed to warm to her topic, leaning toward him to confide even more. “He called them all Emily and made them wear brown-haired wigs and dress in nurse’s outfits so they looked like me.”
“That’s sick. Was he kinky or something?”
“He wanted a threesome.” She pounded a fist on the table. “Like one me wasn’t enough.”
“It’s more than enough.”
She pointed at him so close her finger grazed his cheek. “Thank you!” She licked another Frito, her pink little tongue driving him crazy. She met his eyes over the Frito. “He wanted to spank me and…”
He was almost afraid to speak. “And?”
“And screw me in the ass when I have a perfectly serviceable vagina for just that purpose!”
He forced a straight face. “I’m sure it’s perfectly serviceable.”
“Damn straight!” She beamed at him. “You’re so easy to talk to. He screwed my neighbor and former best friend at the same time a week before the wedding.” She jabbed a thumb at herself. “I’m the idiot that went through with it. I believed him that it was a drunken fluke and would never happen again.”
He took her hand. “You’re not an idiot. You just didn’t want to lose the deposit on the wedding reception.”
She laughed, which made him smile. She shouldn’t have had to go through all that.
He went on. “The caterer, the DJ. That ball was rolling.”
She gave him a watery smile that made his chest ache.
“C’mere,” he said gently.
She didn’t move.
He squeezed her hand. “I’m not kinky. I’m a real old-fashioned guy that likes good old missionary position. A few other positions too since we’re being so honest. I’m perfectly content with a serviceable vagina.”
“I’m not sleeping with you.” She leaned a little closer, gave him a soft kiss, and smiled.
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