Untamed (Irresistible Bachelors Book 9)

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Untamed (Irresistible Bachelors Book 9) Page 3

by Lauren Landish


  By the time I make it back to Eleanor’s room for a scheduled check-in, I admit to myself that I’m feeling a little bit tired from all the running back and forth between patients. And I’ve still got med rounds and making sure lunches go out correctly.

  “Well look who’s back,” Eleanor teases, taking her eyes off the TV and fixing them on me. “Ready to switch places with me yet? I’ve got this bed warm and comfortable for you.” She grins and pats the bed next to her.

  I laugh and throw my hands up in defeat. “Okay, Mrs. Smith, I’ll admit it. You’re right. I’m a little tired, and now that you mentioned a getaway, I’ve been thinking about it all morning.”

  Eleanor smiles and gives me a thumbs-up. “That’s the spirit! Have you thought about where’d you like to go?”

  Picking up the clipboard from the end of her bed, I write as I talk. “A little bit. But if I do end up taking off, it has to be somewhere that’s worth it.” I give Eleanor a wry smile as I fix my eyes on the snow-capped mountains in the distance. “Somewhere special.”

  I’m hungry by the time I make it to the break room. Unfortunately, I didn’t pack lunch, and I have no desire to walk down to the cafeteria. But I did manage to stuff two of my favorite dudes in the freezer for a snack before my shift.

  Ben & Jerry . . . I know you’re cheating man-whores who’ll put out for any girl who’ll wave some money and a spoon in your face, but damn if a mouthful of your cream isn’t what hits the spot.

  I grin at my own dirty double-entendres and retreat to the corner of the room to enjoy my half-eaten tub of Rocky Road, sinking down on the beaten-up but comfy old couch some doctor donated long before I started working here. While I eat, I watch as some of my co-workers come in and out, chitter-chattering about the latest gossip.

  Usually, if a subject interests me, I join in. That’s how conversations go around here, just jump in with both feet while you can and drop out when you have to. But today, I’m content to listen from afar. My mind is too busy contemplating an actual vacation.

  Throughout the day, I’ve thought about going to Paris, Barcelona, Greece, a whole bunch of exotic places. But I quickly discarded those ideas. If I can’t even do Disney, flying overseas would break the bank, and besides, I definitely don’t want to take a trip like that by myself. I try to remember the last vacation I actually took. Maybe when I was a kid, piled up in the backseat with Trey to drive to some rock formation or museum? Shit, has it really been that long?

  I’m in the midst of a delicious bite of ice cream, my tongue lightly scraping over a nugget of delicious fudge, when a brochure on the wall catches my eye. I squint, trying to see details from where I’m sitting. It looks like some brochure for a vacation hot spot.

  With all the talk of a vacation today, I can’t help myself. I get up and walk over to examine it. The headline at the top seems to jump out at me.

  Relax and get away. Find peace and beauty you have to see to believe!

  It’s a gorgeously laid out pamphlet, with pictures of a beautiful cabin and scenery located in the Bear Mountains. The same mountains I saw through Eleanor’s window today.

  There’s one picture in particular that sticks out to me. A nighttime shot of a small lake that feeds into a lagoon, the stars twinkling above. It’s so beautiful yet so very familiar. It plays with my mind as I leave the break room and go to get meds ready.

  I’m about halfway through Mr. Robinson’s twelve pills when I realize, and I’m so shocked that my fingers go numb and the bottle falls out of my hand to clatter to the top of the med cart.

  That lake . . . I’ve been there before.

  Chapter 3

  Ana

  Two weeks.

  One beautiful cabin.

  And a whole lotta me time.

  It took me a week to get the time off arranged, but just the idea of having plans helped buoy me through the past few days of overtime shifts. Now, vacation time.

  I’m excited but a little scared. I’ve never taken a vacation by myself. What if I get bored? What if I don’t? Maybe I’ll just hole up in the cabin, pamper myself with spa treatments, and eat junk food. That sounds great, but I do want to get outside a bit too, enjoy that sunshine Mrs. Smith told me I needed.

  And I won’t be alone the whole time, just for most of it. Trey and Brad are coming for the first few days, a nice weekend getaway for them too, but they can’t take that much time off.

  I initially insisted that I’d rather go alone, but Trey likes to play big brother. And he wanted to make sure I got settled into the cabin safely and that it wasn’t some Deliverance-esque trap via vacation brochure. After the past few hours of listening to Brad’s crass jokes and reminiscing about the good times with Trey, I’m kinda glad they’ve tagged along.

  “So I said, girl, I’m a makeup artist, not David Copperfield. I’m nowhere near as old and a whole hell of a lot better looking,” Brad quips from the back seat as I round a bend going up Bear Mountain. We’re riding in a rented Volkswagen SUV for the trip. No way would my little day to day car make it. “You want a magic act, head yourself to Hollywood for some CGI-action, because I can’t make a Hyundai look like a Mercedes without a green screen!”

  I chuckle and then give him a scowl. “You know you shouldn’t talk about people like that. Especially your customers! That’s so wrong,” I scold him.

  “Me? Wrong? What about her? I might be good, but I ain’t that good,” he laughs, then grows serious. “Relax, girly. Don’t get your panties all in a bunch. You know it’s a joke . . . but it works better if I say it in first-person, dammit!”

  I smile and shake my head, giving an ‘I feel for you’ look at my big brother, Trey, who’s sitting in the passenger seat. “I don’t know how you deal with him.”

  Trey, who’s dressed for our trip with dark jeans, a flannel shirt, and a fur cap, returns a tight smile. “With a lot of patience. Besides, I’ll take it out on him later.”

  “Oh, please, would you?” Brad says, little hearts almost visibly shooting from his eyes as he bats his lashes at Trey. “You know I love it when you get all sweaty and primal and just . . . mmpfh.” His eyes don’t leave Trey, but his next words are to me, “Ana, you’re gonna have to take a walk when we get to the cabin. And don’t mind the ropes in the back seat. They’re just for fun.”

  Trey rolls his eyes. Their constant banter is a trip, but it can get old after a while. Hopefully, they’ll be long gone before either one happens too much.

  “Seriously though, Sis, I tell my clients all the time how important it is to take a time-out from work and de-stress, so I’m really happy that you’re finally doing something like this for yourself,” Trey says a few minutes later as we round another bend. He gently pats my shoulder. “You need this.” Trey’s a personal trainer by definition, but really his approach to his clients is much more holistic and I frequently tease him that he’s more life coach than meathead. He humbly rejects that notion, but the truth is, my big brother is a pretty smart guy and I respect the hell out of him for doing his own thing and making a living at it.

  As we come around the side of the mountain, the sun hits the windshield, dazzling me before the road adjusts and everything clears dramatically. I can see we’re a thousand feet in the air, in the lower portion of the snowline, Great Falls sprawled out below. It’s dramatic, a postcard in itself, and looking at the town below me makes me feel like I’ve been freed, a great weight lifted off my shoulders for a little while.

  “For real,” Brad adds as I start to smile. “All jokes aside, Ana, you are the sweetest, most down to earth bitch I know. And you work so hard at that germ-infested hospital, always giving and never taking. Ain’t no way in hell I could do that. So if anyone deserves a vacation, it’s you.”

  “Gee, erm, uh, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome, honey.”

  I come up another curve that leads off to a level road and the GPS dings. We’re getting close to our destination and I’m getting excited. Just the thou
ght of being able to lay out, meditate, take a hike, or do whatever I damn well please for the next two weeks sounds so appealing.

  It’s amazing how I didn’t even know I needed a little break from work until a patient pointed it out to me.

  I guess sometimes we get in a rut, spinning in the wheel like a hamster but never going anywhere, and it takes someone on the outside to tell us that we need to step off, get help, and try something new.

  The good thing is once this is over, I can return to work fresh, able to make even more of a difference in people's lives. The thought makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

  I turn down a dirt road that goes on for another twenty minutes, narrowing a few times, and I start to worry, double-checking the GPS, but then it opens into a clearing. My breath catches in my throat as I take it all in—a beautiful, lush landscape of gorgeous trees, open land, and two scenic cabins spread about fifty yards apart. Actually, the far cabin is close enough that I wonder where the hell it was on the promo materials.

  A light film of snow is on the ground in patches and on the trees, like someone took God’s spray can of Christmas frosting and had a party. My tires squeal as I break through the frost, rolling to a stop near the first cabin. I hop out along with Trey and Brad.

  “Wow, this place is so beautiful.” Brad gawks, his mouth open wide and a little wisp of frosty breath trickling out. “Trey, we should’ve totally booked this place for ourselves! Big campfires, hot cocoa nights, and days of enjoying this alpine winter wonderland? I’m so freaking jealous!”

  I have to agree with Brad. The land is breathtaking. Just like in the photos. It’s so serene, I feel relaxed just being here.

  But I have to wonder . . . what’s up with the other cabin? The brochure and the lady who managed the property didn’t mention anything about another cabin nearby. I thought I was paying for an exclusive setting.

  Trey seems to be thinking the same thing as he starts to ask a question. “The other cabin for rent too?”

  “I don’t know, maybe—” I reply, but I’m interrupted by a strangled cry and several barks.

  “What the hell was that?” Brad demands, but I’m already running toward the direction of the sounds. My booted feet find solid ground as I run.

  We’re about a hundred yards on the up-mountain side of the other cabin when I find a large man lying there with logs scattered about him, a large husky hovering over him. The dog barks and growls menacingly at me as I approach, and I raise my hands defensively, hoping it doesn’t attack.

  “Easy, boy,” says the man, his voice deep but strained, pain evident in every syllable. “She’s harmless.”

  There’s something familiar about the way the man speaks, but the pain’s distorting it, and I don’t have time to figure it out right now. My main concern is assessing the situation and seeing how injured he is. My eyes are already scanning him, looking for blood, broken bones, anything life-threatening, and I take in his flannel shirt and jeans, along with his sensible boots, so I at least know he’s prepared to be up here on the mountain. I try to scan his face, but all I can see are his bearded jaw and the flops of dark hair that drape over his face, hiding his features. The sheer size of him along with the overall effect of mountain man is enough to make me pause, but he needs help and my instincts take over.

  “Little help?” I ask, nodding toward the dog, hoping he gets my meaning because he can’t see me.

  The man hesitates for a moment but then does a sharp whistle. The dog instantly stops and sits back on his haunches but still watches me warily. I crouch next to the man, looking his massive body over for wounds. “What happened?” I ask.

  “I chopped a tree down yesterday and was hauling some pieces for my stockpile . . . tripped on something,” his deep voice strains out.

  “Let me take a look.” I start to pull on his pants, but he jerks his leg away, hissing in pain. Well, looks like we’ve found our problem.

  “I’m fine,” he grunts. “Just need a minute to shake it off.”

  “Stay still,” I command with authority, not paying him any mind. In the face of serious injury, there’s no time to be prideful.

  “Really, I’m fine—”

  I ignore him and turn to look at Brad and Trey, who’ve finally caught up with me. “Brad, go get the First-Aid kit out of the trunk.”

  “Listen, lady, I don’t need help,” the man protests, trying to sit up.

  “Stop moving!” I crack sharply, pushing him back down. Well, trying to push him down, but it’s harder than I thought, he’s just that fucking big and strong. I think he more gives up against the pressure of my hand on his shoulder than my actually moving him. But he’s sitting again, at least. I swear this guy’s head must be as hard as a rock.

  “No, let me get up and I’ll show you—”

  “You’ll do nothing of the sort,” I growl, using the sternest voice I can manage. “I’m a nurse, and you could be seriously injured. Let me take a look. It will only take a minute.”

  I turn to give him a hard look, letting him know I mean business. Being soft-natured, it’s a face I don’t like to use, but he’s leaving me no choice. The man looks like he’s going to continue arguing but then relents, falling back on his elbows and watching me. His brown eyes peek from behind the curtain of hair, and there’s a moment of recognition in his eyes, and I wonder if I’ve treated him before. No time for that right now.

  Satisfied that I won’t be interrupted, I grab his right leg and pull up his jeans above his ankle. It’s swollen and already turning purplish. I suck in a breath instead of hissing in displeasure. Not good.

  I gently press on the bruised area, and the man winces as I take his entire foot in my hands. There’s no grating feeling and he doesn’t scream like a baby, so I’m going to guess there’s nothing broken.

  “Looks like you have a bad sprain,” I announce after my examination, hoping there isn’t anything torn. Either way, that’s beyond my skills, and if he does need surgery, he’s coming off the mountain. “Pretty bad one. You’re going to need to rest and stay off it.”

  “Shit . . .” the man mutters in dismay.

  Brad returns just in time with the First-Aid kit. I take it from him and begin rummaging through it for what I need.

  I locate the elastic wrap and begin bandaging the man’s ankle with Brad, Trey, and the husky looking on. I can feel their eyes on my back, but what’s making my hands a bit shaky is the glare of the man I’m helping. I get it, man. You’re all big and burly, probably usually a badass. But right now, you need help, and I can offer that, so quit being so damn grumpy about it. Of course, I wouldn’t say that out loud. He’d probably eat me, and not in the fun way. Ugh . . . focus, Ana!

  “You know what?” Brad begins to say, “You’re lucky Florence Nightingale was here to help.” I can hear the fairy-tale tilt to his voice, like he’s getting ready to start some wondrous story about the sweet nurse and the growly beast.

  “Shh!” Trey says sternly with a scowl. “Ana’s trying to work.”

  “Spoilsport.” Brad goes silent, but when I peek over at him, he’s staring at the man as if he’s a scoop of ice cream with caramel bourbon sauce on top.

  When I’m done, I sit back with a scowl. It’s ugly, but it’ll work, and I can do better when we get inside.

  “I’ve got you all bandaged up. You need to stay off the ankle for a bit, probably a week or so—”

  “A week?” The man snorts. “I can’t do that. Got too much work to do.”

  Anger sparks in my stomach as I gesture at his ankle. I’m not sure why, maybe because he seems so stubborn and is questioning me, but I swear I’ve heard that voice before. “You have to if you don’t want it to get worse. I mean, you’re lucky all you have is a sprain. You could have broken it or ruptured a ligament or worse! And then you’d be fucked from here to Sunday.” Nice nurse Ana is gone, a sassy, mouthy version taking her place.

  “Here to Sunday . . . Ana?” the man asks suddenly, looking pal
e.

  I freeze as he shoves his thick fingers through his hair and I finally get a good look at his face. Moments before, I was too filled with adrenaline to even pay attention to his features, and he’s got a dirty face and his beard needs a little trim, but . . .

  My eyes take in his dark hair, longer than it used to be, with his brown eyes that seem to look into my soul. He’s definitely rough around the edges, but he’s almost too handsome to be real.

  He can’t be real, can he? a voice says in the back of my head.

  Ten years. He was just a boy when he left, though a big boy. But now he’s a full-grown man. Taller, a hell of a lot more massive, and corded with muscles. His chest and shoulders are about a mile wide and look chiseled like a rock.

  Aubrey O’Day.

  The boy I thought I would be with forever.

  The boy I thought I’d never see again.

  The bastard who broke my heart.

  “You.”

  We both gape at each other as the recognition washes over us. Behind me, I can hear Trey and Brad whispering, then Brad gets a little louder. “Ooh, things are about to get good. Wish I had some popcorn for this little showdown.”

  I ignore Brad and hop to my feet as soon as the shock wears off. “What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice. I’m rocked by the range of emotions running through me. Shock. Anger. Attraction. Yeah, that last one really pisses me off, but it’s undeniable. Ten years have taken Aubrey from being ‘handsome’ to being ‘holy fucking shit.’

  Aubrey grimaces as he sits up, but I refuse the urge to comfort him. “What do you mean? I live here.” His voice is a gravel-filled rumble, a soothing balm to the cracks he left in my heart. And that pisses me off even more.

  I used to come up to Bear Mountain with Aubrey back in high school, but he didn’t live here then. “What do you mean, you live here?”

  “I bought this place a few years back.” He nods at the cabin that’s near the one I rented. “I live next door.”

 

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