by Janice Lynn
“You’re welcome, Chrissie. Making you smile is my pleasure.”
* * *
There were a dozen or so people on the medical crew. More than they’d needed tonight, but that would change with sun-up.
There were a few two-man tents at the back of the medical area so there would be medical staff close in case middle-of-the-night care was needed. Chrissie was rooming with one of the nurse-practitioner volunteers, a pretty woman in her late forties who worked with a local children’s hospital and said she’d been volunteering with CCPO for the past couple of years, after one of her patients’ family had mentioned how the organization had helped with expenses.
Chrissie liked hearing how the organization was making a difference out in the real world, rather than just through the testimonies given on stage at the event. Somehow, hearing Bernadette say CCPO had helped one of her patients made it all so much more real.
She and Trace had checked to make sure the medical area was still slow, then she’d slipped off to her tent to grab her toiletries where she bumped into her roommate.
“I’m headed to the shower truck to wash the bubbles off myself,” she told the smiling woman.
“I’ll be heading that way before the rush, too,” Bernadette said, from where she sat on her sleeping bag, holding her phone. “I’m going to call home and check on my husband and kids since there’s not a need in the medical tent right now.”
Chrissie nodded, then left their tent to give the woman a semblance of privacy. In reality, there was very little. Yet, four years ago, she and Trace had found ways to be alone, especially at night when they’d been the two manning the slow, midnight hours.
Trace.
She’d essentially agreed to get to know him.
Ha. What did that even mean? She wasn’t sure.
At least he’d been upfront that his main goal was to sleep with her again.
What a goal.
What a man.
She hung her head and took a deep breath. Why was she even fighting him?
He was right. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.
Probably more.
But she was four years older, four years wiser, four years more mature. She didn’t have wild sexual flings.
Especially premeditated ones.
Then again, trying to convince herself of greater maturity right after playing in a sea of bubbles probably wasn’t the most effective argument she’d ever waged.
But, oh, how she’d had fun playing with Trace.
Who’d have ever thought she’d be surrounded by bubbles, dancing and acting goofy with Trace Stevens?
She’d have bet against those odds every time.
But she didn’t regret it. How could she when she’d laughed more than she recalled laughing in months? Years?
No, that wasn’t true. She laughed with Joss. Lots and lots. Goodness, but that kid made her happy.
And Savannah. Spending time with her best friend and her baby daughter made Chrissie happy, too. Prior to Savannah’s wedding, her friend had stayed the night and they’d giggled the night away while Joss slept.
But it was a different kind of laughter, a different kind of happy, than she felt at the moment. She couldn’t explain the difference, just recognized that there was one.
Maybe it had to do with how Trace had laughed along with her, that they’d shared some magical, fun moment.
Maybe, she tried to convince herself as she made it to the bath area.
Most of the CCPO participants were still at the bubble-a-thon. There wasn’t a line at the shower trucks.
Chrissie quickly squeezed into one of the tiny stalls inside the eighteen-wheeler shower trailer, rented for the event, and stripped off her sticky clothes. She let the warm water sluice over her body, then shampooed her hair, suds trickling down her nakedness.
Her mind couldn’t help where it went.
Not after seeing Trace again. Not after their bizarre conversation. Not after his telling her she looked good covered in bubbles.
He’d kissed her.
She’d let him.
Craziness.
How could she have pushed him away when for the first time in four years she’d felt physical excitement? When for the first time in four years her heart had sped up at a man’s touch? When her whole body had zinged with awareness? When her thighs had squeezed with excitement?
She’d wanted to kiss him back. To really kiss him back. To drag him somewhere where they were less likely to get interrupted and kiss him until they’d both been breathless.
She wanted him now, in this tiny shower stall with her, and for the bubbles and warm water to be their only covering.
She leaned her head against the wall, letting the water rinse the suds from her hair and body.
Just remembering his kiss, letting her mind go beyond that kiss to previous kisses from four years ago, had her ribcage contracting around her lungs, making her breathing labored.
She finished showering, dried off the best she could in the tiny space, slipped on fresh clothes, then headed out of the truck and over to the sink area.
She got her teeth brushed, then headed back toward the path that would take her to Medical.
“Am I seriously lucky enough to bump into you here?”
She turned slowly, her gaze colliding with Trace’s. “Guess that depends on what you call lucky.”
“Any time I have the privilege of setting eyes on you.”
Feeling vulnerable to the emotions fizzing through her, she frowned at him in hopes of at least having a moment to catch her breath. She’d thought she’d have longer before facing him again. “I don’t recall you using cheesy lines four years ago.”
Her frown didn’t deter him in the slightest and his grin was potent.
“Telling the truth is not a cheesy line.”
“Still, I don’t recall you saying such things.”
That seemed to break through whatever was making him smile so intently. “If I failed to tell you how lucky I felt four years ago then I did you a grave injustice. I felt very privileged that you noticed me.”
“You were hard not to notice,” she admitted.
“Because I kept finding reasons to bump into you? To ask you a question? To hand you something so I could touch you? I couldn’t believe my luck in meeting you that weekend.”
“I wasn’t complaining.” She hadn’t. She’d been just as attracted to him and she hadn’t tried to hide it. Not then. She might as well not bother now because she was failing miserably. The hot look in his eyes warned of that.
“Do you remember that first kiss, Chrissie?” His voice had lowered even though there was no one else on the path.
“Remind me,” she said to be contrary, because she knew every ounce of attraction she felt for this man was shining from her eyes like a homing beacon.
“Everyone had gone to dinner. It was just you and me in the medical tent.”
“We’d stayed to clean up from a suture one of the docs had done on a woman who had sliced her arm while opening a can in the kitchen,” she added.
“But the moment we were truly alone for the first time, we came together like two magnets.”
“We kissed,” she corrected. They hadn’t “come together like magnets” until much later that night. Which had quite blown her away. She’d never done anything like that before. Never.
“We’re alone right now,” he pointed out. “I could remind you with more than words.”
“Someone could come along.”
“I’m not sure I like this older, more practical version of you,” he teased.
She was older, more practical. She had to be. Did that make her boring? She bit the inside of her lip. “I’m not the same woman I was four years ago.”
<
br /> “Neither of us are the same as we were four years ago.”
Something in his voice said life had thrown a lot of things at him during that time.
“But I am attracted to you,” she heard herself say.
His smile returned. “And?”
“Apparently, we share very potent sexual chemistry.”
“Is that something you encounter often?”
She almost said, Only with you, but caught herself just in time. She was already vulnerable enough.
“Not that often,” she improvised. “What about you?”
“Not since you.”
Three little words that made her heart sing. Okay, so he wasn’t saying he hadn’t ever experienced such a strong attraction, but that no one since her had made him feel that way. A minor, silly, little thing, but his admission made her happy.
Funny, because not for a second did she doubt the truthfulness of his words. She never had. There was something about him that she instinctively trusted, rightly or wrongly.
“You got quiet,” he accused softly.
She nodded. “We’re standing in the middle of a path between the bath area and the medical area. Maybe we should head back.”
He nodded and stayed in step beside her. “Agnes said this is the first year you’ve been back to volunteer since we met. What kept you away?”
“It wasn’t fear of running into you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions, Chrissie.”
“You’re right. I just didn’t want you to make assumptions that...”
“Where you are concerned, I’m doing my best not to make any assumptions. Not even the ones I want to make. So, what kept you away? Family? Work?”
“Family.”
“Tell me about your family.”
Not likely, but she smiled and suggested, “Then you’ll tell me about yours because that’s all part of us getting to know each other?”
His nose wrinkled. “Okay, so you have a point. Let’s talk about something besides family. Do you still live and work in Chattanooga?”
“Yes, I love my job at the hospital.”
“You’re a CVICU nurse, right?”
Pleased that he remembered, she answered, “Yes, I work in the cardiovascular intensive care unit.” She straightened her shoulders proudly. “I was promoted to nurse supervisor a few years ago.”
“That’s great.” He smiled. “I’d say your family must be proud, but that would take us full circle. So, I’m going to say how proud you must be of that accomplishment.”
“I love taking care of patients and I always try to do my best. This time, hard work paid off.”
“Have there been times in the past where it hasn’t?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t mean my comment that way. What about you? Tell me about working for DAW.”
The medical tent was within sight and their steps had slowed.
“What do you want to know?”
“What made you decide you wanted to do that?”
“Probably Agnes and Bud’s influence over the years. I wanted to make a difference. A buddy of mine had joined and convinced me that doing the same would give me a sense of accomplishment that I wasn’t finding in Atlanta.”
“Was he right?”
CHAPTER FIVE
GOOD QUESTION. BUT not one Trace could easily answer.
In some ways, joining had filled a need within him that had been gaping since Kerry died. In others, he now had holes where they hadn’t previously existed.
Maybe life was one big trade-off after another.
“I’d do it again, so I guess that’s a yes,” he finally said, realizing they’d completely stopped moving. “I thought of you.”
Surprise lightened the green of her eyes. “What did you think about me?”
“You know what I thought.”
Her eyes rolled a little. “That we share a strong sexual chemistry?”
“Among other things.”
Why he was telling her so much, he wasn’t sure; it was just that he felt it imperative to be upfront with her, that anything else seemed inadequate.
“I’d never met anyone like you, Chrissie.”
Her chest lifted a little, as if his admission had caused her to have to take a deep breath. “And now?”
Her question caught him off guard.
“What about now?”
She looked up at him with a fierceness that defied her petite size. “I’m trying to figure out exactly what you’re doing, Trace. You’ve admitted your goal is to sleep with me again. Is that the ultimate goal or do you want more from me than this weekend?”
More questions that made him uncomfortable, but at least he had answers for these. Not answers written in stone, but answers nonetheless.
“I’ll be back overseas soon, Chrissie. To pretend otherwise would be wrong. Anything between us would only be for the weekend.”
Taking a deep breath, she nodded, as if she’d been expecting that to be his answer.
“Is that nod an agreement?”
“No, Trace, I’m not agreeing to those terms. I didn’t come here looking for you, or for an affair, or for anything other than to volunteer. Despite what four years ago might have led you to believe, I don’t have affairs just because one is on offer and would feel good.”
“Maybe you should.”
* * *
Trace’s words haunted Chrissie as she tossed back and forth in her sleeping bag. She’d not gone to her tent until almost midnight, but that hour had struck long ago and her mind still raced too much for sleep to take hold.
This was ridiculous.
She needed sleep. Needed to get rest before tomorrow when they’d likely be busy all day with dehydration, heatstroke and minor injuries.
But no matter how long she lay there, sleep just wasn’t going to happen. She should see if whoever was working the medical tent needed help, or maybe a few hours of shut-eye while she sat up.
Taking care not to disturb Bernadette, she climbed out of her sleeping bag and slipped from the tent. There was a three-quarter moon that lit the night sky so she could easily make her way through the few small tents that were close to the medical tent.
Quietly, she entered Medical and wasn’t surprised by who she saw sitting at a table, reading one of the medical thrillers she’d donated.
“Chrissie?” He stood, stretched his lean body.
“It’s not what you think,” she began, but maybe it was, because she’d known he’d be in the tent. Hadn’t she been drawn there like a moth to a flame because of that knowledge?
“What am I thinking?” His words were soft, slow, but his eyes danced with mischief.
“I couldn’t sleep and thought I’d see if whoever was working needed help.” Right. She doubted she was convincing him any more than she was convincing herself. She’d come to find him.
“It’s been slow. Not a single person seeking care since before you left.”
She nodded, took a deep breath, and glanced around the empty tent. “I’m wide awake. You want to grab a nap? I can wake you if someone comes in.”
He shook his head. “I’m good.” He studied her. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”
Worried he could see right through her, she shrugged and sank into the chair across from where he’d been sitting.
“Me?” he guessed.
“Probably.”
“I’m sorry if I’m causing you stress.”
He didn’t sound sorry. He sounded pleased at her admission. Then again, he hadn’t made any pretenses about his interest. Quite the opposite.
“Is there something I can do to help?” he offered, causing her to look up and meet his gaze. He lowered in
to the chair across from hers.
“Are you promising you’d do it?” she countered, wondering how it was possible for him to be so attractive when she knew better. She did know better. But she was there all the same.
This time he was the one who shrugged. “Depends on what you say.”
Okay, so the reality was that she knew it had been him in the medical tent and that he was most likely alone. Had that been the real reason she hadn’t been able to sleep?
No, the real reason she couldn’t sleep was that she’d been sexually frustrated for four years.
Four years.
The cure was right in front of her. Willing and eager.
She was an idiot for coming there.
She’d have been a bigger fool if she hadn’t.
“I want you, Trace.”
The amusement in his eyes darkened to desire. He swallowed, slowly, and with exaggerated motion in his throat.
“Chrissie.” Her name came out a bit strained.
“You don’t have to say anything or do anything, but I needed to say that. I needed to tell you, because no matter how much I may think I am strong enough to fight the attraction between us, I’m not.”
He leaned forward, his gaze not wavering from hers. “You’re okay with us being together this weekend?”
Okay with it? Ha. No, her brain wasn’t. Not really. But her body, yeah, her body would never let her live it down if she ignored what a weekend with Trace offered. But this time, they’d have to be more careful. Not that they weren’t last time, but Joss had arrived nine months later all the same.
Joss.
For a moment, she considered fleeing the tent, then realized how ridiculous she was being. She was a grown woman. A grown independent woman. If she wanted to have sex with a gorgeous man who had a history of making her feel amazing, then why wouldn’t she embrace the opportunity?
“Yes.” A huge weight lifted off her shoulder at the admission. “I’m sorry I protested so much. Seeing you again and feeling attracted to you caught me off guard.”
Rather than looking triumphant, his expression was thoughtful.
“You’re sure about this, Chrissie? You understand I’m not offering anything more than this weekend?”
She nodded. She understood quite well.