From the Start

by Cheryl Etchison

  Although J.T. was one of the nicest people Michael had ever met, he also wasn’t someone he wanted to accidentally piss off.

  Anthony was a big guy, an intimidator, and definitely not built like the typical Ranger. While he was the same height as Michael, his arms were as large as most men’s thighs. He was the kind of guy who looked like he should be playing defensive end in the NFL instead of squatting behind home plate at a family picnic in Savannah.

  Before Michael could even answer, Danny did so for him. “No need to worry, Cap. If anything, the fact you’re playing my team is in your favor, not working against you.” He smiled, then turned at looked at Michael. “Or have you not met my big brother.”

  Michael shook his head and pointed to the chalk outlined box on the ground. “Get your ass in the batter’s box.”

  His brother was still chuckling when he fouled off the first pitch into the chain-link backstop. The second he sent foul down the first base line. Danny stepped out of the box, tapped his cleats with his bat, then took a few extra swings.

  “You’re just delaying the inevitable, MacGregor,” Anthony chirped from beneath his catcher’s mask. “My trophy is waiting.”

  “Whatever you say,” Danny answered with a smile, showing a great deal of restraint.

  Because at the end of the day, Anthony was his commanding officer and could make his life a living hell if he really wanted to. Not that he would ever do it.

  The final pitch was a freaking watermelon right over the middle of the plate. Danny’s swing connected, sending the neon yellow ball sailing to deep centerfield, but landing just inside the fence. Danny dropped the bat and took off running, watching as the outfielder made his way to the ball. As his brother rounded second, Michael already knew what would happen next. And sure enough, ignoring Gibby’s signals to hold up at third, Danny skidded around the corner and headed home.

  The cutoff man made a strong throw, one-hopping it to Anthony, who grabbed it bare-handed and steadied himself for the tag. Danny lowered his shoulder and Anthony held his position until they both collided just left of home plate. Once the dust settled, Anthony sat up from the carnage of limbs showing Michael that he still had the ball in his hand. Michael then called his brother out and a string of expletives streamed from Anthony’s mouth celebrating the fact.

  But once the excitement wore off, the expletives became pain-related. Two of his fingers were now pointing in unnatural directions.

  “Goddammit, Danny.” Michael immediately took hold of Anthony’s hand as his brother stood wide-eyed, shocked by what had transpired. “We should probably X-ray these, J.T.”

  “You should listen to him,” Danny said. “No need to make things worse by staying. No stupid trophy’s worth it.”

  Anthony gave Danny a steely look. “Not. A. Chance.” Then the hard look transformed into a wide smile, making Danny swear under his breath as he headed back to the dugout.

  “Your brother was their last best chance and he knows it. So just pop them back in, Doc. I’ve got a game to win.”

  Michael shook his head.

  Typical Rangers. Of course, many of them had suffered far worse injuries over the years.

  “Deep breath,” he ordered as he took hold of the first digit and manipulated it back into position.

  “Whew.” Anthony shook his head, then grinned again. “One down, one to go.”

  Michael then took hold of the second finger and manipulated it as well. By the time he was done, both fingers were swelling, but Anthony ignored his advice to go put ice on them immediately.

  Thankfully, the pitcher made quick work of the last two batters and Anthony got his prized trophy. Which was presented to him by the previous year’s winner—Danny. And, of course, his little brother garnered lots of laughs as he swore vengeance would be his.

  Thirty minutes later, after he had taped a bag filled with ice to Anthony’s hand, he finally had a chance to check his phone.

  Couldn’t take another minute. On my way home.

  The message had come at four-thirty, which meant she would be back in Savannah around eight. Which meant there would be plenty of time for them to hook up. But in that moment he knew he didn’t want her to show up for a quickie and then leave again; he wanted to actually spend some time with her.

  Fuck it. Couldn’t hurt to ask.

  Michael took a deep breath and dove straight into the deep end.

  Or you could come to my place, stay the night, and we get up and go for a run together tomorrow morning?

  It felt like hours passed as he stared at the screen, waiting for a response, when really it was only a few minutes.

  idk

  He stared at the three letters on the screen.

  “Idk? What the hell does that mean?

  He didn’t realize he’d asked the question out loud until his brother who was standing a few feet away chirped up. “I don’t know,” Danny replied.

  Michael turned to look at him. “What?”

  “IDK means ‘I don’t know.’” Danny shook his head. “And you’re supposed to be the smart one of the family.”

  As his brother walked away, he was almost certain he heard him mumble, “Idiot.” If that wasn’t a perfection description as to how he felt at the moment.

  “In for a penny, in for a pound,” he muttered to himself while typing out his address.

  Just in case, he added.

  Then he shoved his phone in his pocket and tried his best to forget about it. And he did. At least until the picnic was over and he returned to his empty apartment without hearing another word from her.

  Low-level irritation simmered in his gut. He grabbed a can of beer from his fridge, popped the top, and was about to take a drink when a knock sounded at the door. Michael flipped on the small outside light and yanked open the door to find Kacie standing in front of him, staring up at him with those beautiful green eyes and a bright smile.

  And even better, a large duffel bag in her hand.

  Like the saying went, Rome wasn’t built in a day. And if he had to win this woman over one day at a time, one hour at a time, he’d never consider a moment wasted.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The driving rain and booming thunder matched Kacie’s mood as she spent her evening curled up on her couch, binge-watching Grey’s Anatomy, and wallowing in her own misery. In the past when she felt this terrible, she’d soothe herself with a take-out order of mashed potatoes and gravy, then chase it with three Midol and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s. However, due to her pesky little dress problem, two items from her treatment plan had to be excised. But no way in hell was she going to have salad twice in one day, so dinner was a cold bowl of cereal.

  As the summer thunderstorm raged outside, she queued up season two on Netflix. It was her failsafe because no matter how bad she felt or how things were currently going in her life, it was always far worse for the employees of Seattle Grace.

  Several episodes into her misery marathon, Kacie rolled onto her side and hugged her pillow a little tighter. Of course it was only once she’d achieved maximum comfort levels that someone knocked on her door. She froze in place, her eyes darting to the clock on her wall. It was well after nine at night, far too late for it to be a salesman, even if the weather hadn’t been horrible. Hell, most solicitors never even noticed her little carriage house hidden far from the street. Hopefully, whoever it was, they’d just go away if she ignored them.

  A second knock came and her heart began to race. She peeked over the back of the couch and stared at the dead bolt, hoping she’d truly locked it when she came in and hadn’t just given it a ceremonial flip.

  “Kacie, if you hear me, you better open the goddamn door before I break it down.”

  Recognizing the voice, she shot up straight in the couch. “Oh, no, he didn’t,” she growled.

  Fueled by anger she marched across the room, turned the lock, which had been fully engaged, thank you very much, and yanked the door open.

  “We agreed n
o pop-ins!” she yelled at the giant shadowed figure standing on her small front porch.

  “Glad to see you’re alive.” A damp and dripping Michael pushed past her, then slammed the door shut behind him. “The least you could’ve done was return my texts.”

  Once he was inside she could see his eyes were filled with rage.

  Well, two could play at that game.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be busy with some night training thing? Jumping out of airplanes or something like that? Because you’re certainly dressed for it.”

  Michael glanced down at his rain-soaked military-issue clothing, then sarcastically pointed to the door. “Did you happen to notice the raging thunderstorm? Kind of makes night jumps impossible.”

  “Of course I did,” she dished back. “I’m also noticing you’re leaving a puddle on my floor.”

  When she looked up from his combat boots to meet his gaze, she noticed his eyes were focused on her chest. Only then did she remember she was wearing the thinnest of T-shirts. With no bra. Kacie looked down to see what he was seeing and, just as luck would have it, her nipples were oh-so-happy at his appearance they were practically waving.

  She folded her arms over her chest, obstructing his view. “What are you even doing here?”

  “What am I doing here?” he parroted while shaking droplets from his hair like a wet dog. “How about the fact the last message you sent me was stating how terrible you were feeling. So bad, in fact, that you were leaving work early. Throw in the weather, a million car wrecks, and then—” Michael tossed his hands in the air. “Fucking radio silence.”

  Kacie winced, realizing he was here dripping on her floor because he was actually worried about her.

  “My phone died on the way home and when I came in I just stuck it on the charger.” She grabbed a towel from a neatly folded stack of laundry on her small kitchen table and offered it to him. A peace offering of sorts. “I didn’t think to turn it back on.”

  He removed his digital camo print jacket and hung it on the back of her dining room chair before taking the towel from her hand. “I texted to make sure you got home okay. Asked if you needed anything. No reply.” He tossed the towel over his head and began rubbing his scalp violently. “I texted again.” His words were muffled. “Still no reply, so I tried calling. And calling. And calling.”

  By the time he draped the towel over his shoulder and took a long hard look at her, she was feeling a bit guilty. There was denying the concern in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry, but it never crossed my mind that you’d check up on me. After all, you said you wouldn’t be able to see me this week because of army stuff. And now you know I’m just fine.”

  Michael studied her thoughtfully as he swiped an errant drip from his ear. “How about since I’m here, you consider it a house call. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  That was not a conversation she wanted to have with him, doctor or not.

  “Thank you for asking, but don’t worry about it.”

  “Damn, woman.” He propped his hands on his hips and stared down at her. “Do you know how many people try to take advantage of the fact I’m a doctor and can give them free medical advice? Would you please quit being so stubborn and let me help?”

  And . . . now she was ticked again. Who the hell did he think he was to barge into her pity party of one and start demanding answers from her? Worried or not.

  “Well, you can’t help. It’s just that time of the month. Happy now?” She opened the front door. “Thank you for coming by to check on me. I appreciate it. But you can just go on home and I’ll send you an all clear message when we can resume. Until then, you can entertain yourself elsewhere.”

  The high winds gusted rain through her front door and all over her floor, yet she continued to hold it open for him. Michael shook his head and made like he was going to leave, but instead pushed the door shut again. With him still inside.

  “Do you really believe I wouldn’t want to spend time with you because of your period? Do you think I’m such a self-centered asshole?”

  If she thought he was upset before, he seemed even more so now.

  But two could play at that game. “Go home, Michael.” She tried to shove him out of the way so she could open the door again.

  Michael took a firm hold of her shoulders and looked down at her with those dark blue eyes. She watched as the anger dissipated from his gaze and softened into a look of concern. Like two kids having a staring contest, she wanted to outlast him. Wear him down. Wanted to hold on to her anger and end this little standoff by tossing him out on his arrogant ass. But the longer he watched her, the more her resolve weakened. And when she took a second to think about it, she was just too tired to argue more.

  As if he sensed the moment the fight left her, he pulled her into his embrace, smoothing one strong hand up and down her spine.

  “What can I do to help? What are your symptoms? Cramps? Body ache? Fatigue?”

  This was one hell of a bedside manner he had, his words as gentle and soothing as his touch.

  “You forgot irritability,” she mumbled against his chest.

  Taking hold of her shoulders, he eased back just enough to meet her gaze. The corners of his mouth quirked up and the dimple popped in his cheek. “No, I didn’t forget. That one’s obvious.”

  She gave a weak punch to his arm and he laughed, pulling her close once again, almost curling his body protectively around hers. As his arms held her tight, his warmth seeped through his worn cotton shirt and into her body like an oversized heating pad.

  “I’m gonna ask you again, what can I do to help?”

  “This,” she mumbled into his chest.

  “Okay, then. How about we call it a night? It’s been a long day.”

  Kacie eased away from his embrace to look into his eyes. “You want to stay the night? With me?”

  “If you don’t mind.” He gave her a half smile. “I’ll have to leave pretty early, especially since I’ll need to go home and get my gear before I head into work. But I’d like to stay. If you’ll let me.” As he spoke he carefully pulled the elastic from her hair, raking his fingers across her scalp and through the strands in slow, comforting motions.

  Suddenly, she found it difficult to swallow around the lump in her throat.

  As if his words and kindness weren’t enough, he had to go and make everything worse by being tender, too.

  For the past week and a half she’d been telling herself Michael was only interested in one thing. And that the attention he paid her was only a means to get that one thing. But this? Coming over in a thunderstorm to make certain she was okay? Wanting to know what he could do to make her feel better? This was not the Michael she was accustomed to.

  As he held her tight, as his breath fanned across her skin and he pressed light kisses to her hair, she realized the arrogant, self-proclaimed sex god had disappeared and been replaced by Michael from the coffee shop. The man who had shared his secrets and bought her lemonade and kissed her on the cheek as he said goodbye.

  And while it was possible she could’ve walked away from the first one when the time came, she wasn’t sure she could with the second.

  Thankfully, Kacie gave up the fight. Her eyes closed and her entire body went lax as he gently stroked her hair. From the weight of her body leaning into his, it was quite possible she’d fall asleep where she stood if he kept it up.

  “Sunshine,” he whispered, and her eyes fluttered open to look up at him. “Do you want me to leave?”

  “No.” Her answer was barely more than a whisper.

  While he would’ve preferred a more enthusiastic response, it was far better than her trying to throw him out.

  “Are you ready to call it a night, then?”

  This time she responded with a simple nod against his chest and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

  “Okay, then. Why don’t you head off to bed and I’ll lock up.”

  There was no argument, just a soft groan as sh
e centered her weight on her own two feet and powered herself down the short hallway to the bedroom.

  Michael removed his combat boots and stacked them side by side, then used a couple of paper towels to dry the puddles of rain and mud he’d tracked inside. As he worked his way around her small carriage house, locking the front door, turning off lights, shutting off the television, his heart rate slowed and his anxiety eased. He was smart enough to realize even as he raced across town in the driving rain that his worries were likely unfounded. He knew he’d find Kacie safe and sound in her house, and yet, he couldn’t stop himself from panicking. And now what he needed most to settle himself was to hold her.

  When he made his way to her bedroom, he found her already snuggled up in bed, well on her way to being sound asleep. He couldn’t contain his smile as he noticed she’d situated herself on what had become her side of the bed, facing the space she’d left for him, the covers thrown back in invitation.

  As he quietly stripped down to his boxer briefs, neatly folding his clothes and placing them where he’d be able to find them in the early-morning darkness, he looked at her, her body curled into the fetal position with that mass of wild hair spread out behind her.

  Is this what would it be like to have a wife or a girlfriend to come home to every night?

  What would it be like to come home to her?

  Michael slid into bed next to her, careful to not bounce around on the mattress too much as he adjusted the blankets. But just as he settled, she lifted his arm and scooted toward him, bringing her body flush to his as she rested her head on his shoulder.

  “I’m sorry if I woke you,” he whispered.

  “You didn’t.”

  They spent the next few minutes rearranging themselves, both of them restless and struggling to find the sweet spot. After all, this was atypical behavior for the two of them. But eventually, he found himself perfectly comfortable, on his back near the center of the bed, with Kacie’s body draped over his, her palm resting over his heart and her head tucked beneath his chin.