Affection glowed in Tess O’Bryen’s face. “Aw, sweetheart, you’ll always be a winner to me.”
A low chuckle rolled from the lips of Jack’s cousin, Matt Ball. “Yeah, the Mommy’s Boy Award.”
Jack grinned, finger-shooting a crumb at Matt from his half-eaten roll. “Better than being a loser, Ball.”
“You’re a winner to me, too, Jack,” Cat piped up, a bit of the devil gleaming in blue eyes so like Shannon’s and yet so different. “Except at shrimping and crabbing, of course, where I will always be queen.”
“‘Queen of Crabbing?’” Cat’s date said with a lift of sandy brows, a laid-back guy who turned out to be Jack’s pastor and best friend as well as a friend of the family. He chewed his salad in a leisurely manner, broad shoulders and hard-chiseled features more reminiscent of a bodyguard than a minister. He tweaked the back of Cat’s neck with a lazy smile. “Now there’s a crown that fits with all the crabbing you do at volleyball whenever you lose.”
Jack grinned, finger-shooting another crumb at Cat. “Or when I decimate her in fishing tournaments.”
“Or when it’s her week for dishes,” Shannon volunteered with a flutter of lashes, her love for her sister evident from the sparkle of tease in her eyes.
Cat’s jaw sagged in an open-mouthed smile, the spark of trouble in her gaze leaving no doubt as to which twin was the handful. “Even you, Shan?” she said with a true flair for drama, hand splayed to the bodice of a red dress that hinted at far more cleavage than Shannon ever displayed. “I’m wounded—you’re supposed to defend me to the bitter end.”
“I do, Catfish,” Shannon said with a sweet look of sincerity as only she could. “When Jack says you’re a big, fat pain, I tell him straight out that you are not fat.”
Sam laughed along with the others, soaking up the playful banter of family like a parched wasteland thirsting for rain. Jack was one of the luckiest guys around, in Sam’s opinion, with the incredible family and friends that he had. But at least Sam was gaining ground with Shannon as his friend.
And soon, God willing, Jasmine as his wife.
His mind stilled despite the chatter and clink of silverware. God willing? The random thought caught him by surprise, making him uneasy over the notion that Shannon might be making more headway than he thought. Shaking the feeling off, he zeroed in on Lacey’s dad, the notorious Dr. Snark of Memorial, of whom he and every other intern had steered clear. “Congratulations, Dr. Carmichael,” he said across the table, “for your nomination as Physician Philanthropist of the Year. That’s quite an honor, sir.”
Memorial’s chief cardiac surgeon and Shannon’s neighbor glanced up with a polite smile, his manner far more amenable than his cranky reputation warranted. But according to Jack, Ben Carmichael was a new man with a newfound faith, something that totally intrigued Sam in light of his own recent overhaul at Shannon’s hand.
Taking a drink of his water, Dr. Carmichael assessed Sam through hazel eyes that held a humility he hadn’t expected. “It is, Sam, and please, call me Ben. But I have to admit, for a man who seldom gave of himself philanthropically until the last year, the idea of an award makes me more than a little uncomfortable.”
“Oh, poo,” Tess O’Bryen said, giving her neighbor’s arm a quick squeeze. “Ben’s given of his time and services to the less fortunate for years now, Sam, culminating in an eight-month medical mission leave this last year.” She launched into a thorough rundown of Dr. Carmichael’s achievements that quickly caught the ear of Chase Griffin, whose questions prompted a conversation on the other side of the table.
Shannon leaned close to Sam. “Mom claims they’re just neighbors and friends,” she whispered, “but Cat and I think there’s more to it than that, thus the staunch defense.”
“Interesting.” Sam observed the body language between Tess and Ben, the idea of Jack’s mother involved with Lacey’s father intriguing, to say the least.
By the time dessert had been served and awards had been won—including Rookie Pediatrician to Wilson and Physician Philanthropist to Ben—Sam was like one of the family. Seldom had he felt so included and at peace as he did sitting next to Shannon, thriving on being part of the camaraderie they all shared. So much so, he’d almost forgotten about Jazz after the dancing began, enjoying a private moment with Shannon while everyone at their table was out on the dance floor.
“Uh-oh, target approaching at nine o’clock.” Shannon’s soft alert congealed the last of Sam’s English trifle in his throat, forcing it down along with a sudden knot of nerves.
Pretending not to notice Jasmine heading their way, Sam hooked a casual arm over Shannon’s shoulder, bending close to whisper in her ear. “Do you have any idea just how much I appreciate you, Angel Eyes?”
When her cheeks bloomed bright red, he laughed out loud, massaging her shoulder before pressing a soft kiss to her head.
“Hey, Sam.”
He and Shannon glanced up, his arm around Shannon’s shoulder the stabilizer he needed. Especially with the luscious Jasmine Augustine mere inches away in a clingy dress that sapped all moisture from his mouth. “Hey, Jazz.” Sam rose, working hard at nonchalance as he fought the urge to tell her she was a knockout, which were always the first words off his tongue whenever he saw her dressed up. He gave Shannon’s shoulder a squeeze. “You know Jack’s sister Shannon, right?”
“Sure. Hey, Shannon—great dress.”
“Thanks, Jasmine,” she whispered softly, “I like yours too.”
Turning back to Sam, Jasmine paused as if waiting for his approval, and Sam practically had to bite his tongue. One thing that had surfaced when he and Shannon talked was about the control she thought Jasmine held over him because he wanted her more than she wanted him. “A woman doesn’t want a man she can control,” Shannon said. “She wants a gentle man strong enough to stand up to her because that means he’s strong enough to protect her, love her. Which means for the time being, Sam …” He remembered how she’d gently gripped his chin like he was some hyperactive kid whose attention she needed to corral. “You’re going to have to refrain from giving Jazz her way—with your time, your attention, your attraction to her, and your compliments that she’s so used to hearing.”
“Watch me,” he’d told her with the utmost confidence. But that had been before Jazz had come on to him in his apartment, and before the recent hint of longing in her eyes.
“I’m sorry you didn’t win,” she finally said, grazing his arm with perfectly manicured nails.
He shrugged. “Not a big deal.” He smiled, features softening when his heart began a slow thud, acutely aware of what was a big deal—winning the heart of the woman he loved. “There are more important things in my life now,” he said quietly, pulse picking up when he saw hope flare in her eyes.
Their song began to play, and memories hit Sam hard, taking him back to the best year of his life when Jazz was all his in the second year of residency. Before he blew it in the call room one night, when another nurse came on to him and Jazz found out.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I thought it’d be fun to dance to our song again, so I requested it.” Her gaze flitted to Shannon and back. “That is, if Shannon doesn’t min—”
“Where’s Derek?” Sam interrupted, suddenly feeling like a heel at the thought of leaving Shannon alone.
“He’s not coming till ten, so I—”
“Absolutely no problem whatsoever.” Shannon bolted to her feet so quickly, Sam had to steady her when she wobbled. “I need to visit the little girls’ room anyway, so he’s all yours, Jasmine.”
“Perfect.” Peeking up through sooty lashes, Jasmine twined her fingers through Sam’s as Shannon turned toward the door.
“Hey, wait.” Sam halted Shannon with his free hand, a crease of concern wedged between his brows. “You sure you don’t mind?”
Reaching up, Shannon gave his cheek a gentle pat, her sweet smile at odds with the somber look in her eyes. “Come on, Doc,” she whispered in his ear, this is what
you’ve been waiting for, remember? I’ll see you in a bit.”
He watched her walk away and wondered why he suddenly felt so alone.
“Sam?” Jazz squeezed his fingers. “Ready?”
Shaking the feeling off, he turned to the woman of his dreams, struck all over again at just how beautiful she was. “Sure,” he said with his trademark smile, leading her out on the floor.
I hope.
Chapter Twenty-One
“You do realize it’s killing me not to nibble your neck.” Holding Tess at a respectable distance on the dance floor, Ben whispered through gritted teeth. His polite smile was more than a little forced in front of a sea of family, friends, and coworkers who thought he and Tess were only friends and neighbors.
With a gentle smile, Tess discreetly squeezed his hand, the pink glow in her face a perfect match for the wispy pale pink dress she wore. “Yes, just like it’s killing me not to snuggle in and lay my head on your chest, Dr. Carmichael, but there’s no sense in setting rumors afire before we’re able to tell both of our families we’re dating.”
Smile askew, he issued a low grunt. “It’s not rumors I want to set afire,” he muttered, scorching her with a heated look that deepened the blush in her cheeks. He grinned when she actually distanced herself several inches despite his arm clamped to her waist.
Lips pursed in a tight smile, she narrowed her eyes to that adorable look of warning that always made Ben smile. “I know patience is a virtue you’re not fond of, Dr. Doom, but we agreed to break our families in slowly to the idea of our engagement, did we not? First announcing we’re dating at an official family get-together, then another in a few months to disclose the engagement? And since the soonest everyone could get together for a BBQ was next week, you may as well put your matches away, Doc, because there will be no fires until we say ‘I do.’”
“What about smoke?” he said in a husky tone, his lidded gaze drifting to her lips and back, hoping some of that fire in her cheeks was coursing through her veins just like his.
Her lips tipped off-center. “No problem. I’ll just have a nice, tall glass of ice water ready in case things get too hot.” The smug smile on those beautiful lips confirmed she’d have no problem doing that, just like she’d done in the beginning of their friendship when she found him stinkin’ drunk one night in his recliner.
“Might be worth it,” he said, giving her a quick spin that coaxed a tiny squeal from her lips. He heard the catch of her breath when he dipped her back at the end of the song, lingering long enough for his gaze to burn into hers. “But I’ll behave, Ms. O’Bryen, because you’re definitely worth the wait.” He swooshed her back up, and she thumped against his chest breathless, allowing several intimate seconds for his gaze to caress hers. “I love you, Teresa O’Bryen,” he whispered, and it took everything in him to refrain from showing her just how much.
“Ditto, Ben Carmichael.” And the proof was in her eyes.
Smiling, he guided her to the table with a hand to the small of her back, managing a quick caress of his thumb to her waist before seating her again.
“Goodness, I didn’t think pastors could maneuver a dance floor so well, Rev.” Cat smiled up at Chase as he pulled out her chair, her blue eyes sparkling while her strawberry blonde hair spilled over bare shoulders. “Left over from your days as a Navy Seal, no doubt, when danger required being quick on your feet.”
“Still does,” he said with a languid smile, draping his suit coat over the back before taking his seat. He reached for his iced tea. “Now more than ever.”
Ben smiled, pretty sure that was true if Pastor Chase Griffin was interested in Tess’s more spirited twin, the daring daughter who seemed to be straying from her spiritual roots, according to Tess. Ben’s gaze ventured to where Jack was ushering Lacey back to the table, and his heart skipped a beat, still amazed at all God had done to heal his relationship with his daughter.
Lacey plopped into her chair, smiling up at Jack with the same adoration she’d shown when she was a teenager. “Have to give it to you, O’Bryen—you haven’t stepped on my toes once since we’ve been married,” she said, reminding Ben how Jack had trampled Lacey’s feet at her junior prom. “And you’ve even picked up some pretty fancy moves.”
Ben leaned close to Tess. “Taught him everything he knows,” he said under his breath, grinning when she jolted after he tweaked her knee under the table.
“Yep, that’s Jack—light on his feet.” Jack’s cousin Matt flicked Jack’s head on the way to seating his wife, Nicki. “And in his head.”
Jack lounged back in his chair with a lazy grin, arm looped over Lacey. “Yeah, Ball, that’s why I have a medical degree and you spend your days teaching little boys how to sweat in a smelly gym.”
“What can I say?” Reaching for his drink, Matt smiled as he offered a slight shrug. “When God handed out grace and athletics, you obviously had your nose in a book.”
“Hey, Shan, where’s your date?” Cat licked her spoon after finishing off the rest of her dessert.
“He’s not my date,” Shannon emphasized with a tinge of pink in her cheeks, “he’s my friend.” She glanced over her shoulder to where Sam was dancing with Randy Augustine’s pretty daughter, and Ben thought Shannon’s shoulders slumped the slightest bit. He tossed back the rest of his water, hoping Tess’s softer twin wasn’t falling for the likes of Cunningham, whose Romeo reputation at Memorial was well known.
One song ended and another began, and Chase jumped up and rounded the table, tugging an open-mouthed Shannon to her feet. “Love this song, Shan. Let’s dance.”
Shannon balked, heels digging in while she clutched the back of her chair. “Chase, really, you don’t have to do this.”
“Of course I do—it’s one of my faves.” Not taking “no” for an answer, he steered Shannon onto the dance floor and into his arms, not far from where Sam Cunningham was on his third dance with Memorial’s most popular nurse.
Lacey sighed as her gaze trailed after Shannon and Chase. “He is such a great guy.”
Jack arched a brow, smile flat. “You do realize, Lace, that I’m still here, right? Listening to you brag on the guy you dated before me?”
Lacey reached up to graze Jack’s mouth with a tender kiss. “You mean the one I dumped for you? Oh, you bet, big boy—I always know when you’re around.”
“Hey, where’s Shan?” Sam returned to the table alone, sliding into his chair before upending his water.
“Dancing with Chase,” Lacey said, glancing to where Chase and Shannon were laughing while he dipped her, “and I’m sure hoping it’s the first of many because those two would be great together.”
“Chase?” Sam squinted at the dance floor with a hint of a frown before zeroing in on Cat. “But I thought you and Chase—”
“Oh, bite your tongue, Doc,” Cat said with a mock shudder. “I mean Chase is a great guy and great to look at, sure, but I’m afraid my taste doesn’t run that pure.”
“Unfortunately.” Lacey delivered a wry smile.
“I’ll second that.” Jack raised his drink in a toast before taking a swig.
Cat jumped up when the band began another song. “Oh, man, I love this one! Come on, Doc.” She tapped on Sam’s shoulder while dancing in place. “This one’s too good to waste.”
“I’ll second that.” Matt pulled Nicki back up and followed Sam and Cat to the floor with Lacey and Jack right behind.
Face and posture nonchalant, Ben slowly reached under the tablecloth to clasp Tess’s hand, taking advantage of the fact they were alone. “Have I told you lately just how over-the-top crazy I am about you, Ms. O’Bryen?” he said, leaning back while his free arm rested over the next chair.
She peeked up out of the corner of her eye, the dewy blush on her cheeks making her look like a woman far too young for him to date. “Uh … out on the dance floor?” Her smile shimmered with the peach gloss he just ached to taste.
“No, ma’am. That was a simple ‘I love you.
’” His thumb teased the inside of her palm. “This is certifiably, undeniably, put-me-in-a-padded-cell crazy over the only woman alive who can transform me into a total fool for love.”
She squeezed his hand under the table, her response husky with affection. “Then no, Dr. Carmichael, you haven’t told me lately,” she said, blue eyes glowing misty with love, “but you certainly have shown it.”
“Why, Ben Carmichael—I thought you weren’t bringing a date.”
Ben’s body went to stone at the sound of the statement, all blood leaching from his face when he glanced over his shoulder. “Cynthia …” He sprang up from his seat, voice cracking like some pimple-faced kid fresh into puberty. You’re supposed to be in Libya ...
Tess swiveled to stare up at the woman Ben had dated prior to her—the one Tess referred to as “Dr. Barbie”—and heat roared into his face while his Adam’s apple ducked in his throat. The same woman with whom he’d spent his last month in Libya, who’d wanted to pick up right where they’d left off before Tess.
She slid a perfectly manicured hand down the arm of his suit coat, the scent of her Poison perfume reminding him of the temptation she’d posed on the final stint of his medical mission trip. “I checked with your secretary, and she said you were flying solo, Ben, so I was disappointed to see you came with a date.”
Flustered for one of the few times in his life, he actually stuttered, the sight of his colleague in a snug sequined dress with ample cleavage making his hands sweat. “This is not a d-date,” he said quickly, waving a hand between him and Tess, pretty sure his stupid promise to keep their engagement a secret would trip him up. “Tess is Jack O’Bryen’s mother and my neighbor.”
Cynthia’s face perked up. “Wonderful, then you owe me a dance.”
Ben bit back a groan. “Sorry, Cynthia, but I’d rather not leave Tess alone.” He turned to Tess, stomach lurching at the tight press of her smile. “Tess, you remember my colleague, Dr. Cynthia Andreyuk, don’t you? You two met last summer.”
Tess’s smile was so bright, it made the candles on the table look dim. “Of course, nice to see you again.”
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