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Bound for Christmas

Page 5

by Yvette Hines


  Zoey’s eyes slowly opened, dark orbs held him spell bound. Desire looked damn good on her.

  “Wow. I’m not sure how to respond to that?” her voice was breathless, husky. She lifted a hand to her lips.

  He enjoyed knowing she was just as affected by him. Kissing the corner of her mouth, he stepped back completely.

  “Just in case the kiss wasn’t clear, Zoey, I’m attracted to you. I’ll be gone for a few days and--”

  “Zoey! Where’s my juice?” His father’s demands invaded the intimacy that had bloomed between them in the kitchen.

  “Duty calls.” She moved past him to the refrigerator, escaping.

  He took hold of her arm as she passed. Her feet halted automatically, he could not help but be enchanted by her response.

  When her gaze met his, he said, “Think about me while I’m away.” He brushed his thumb over her supple skin, before dropping it and walking away to claim his bag and say good-bye to his father.

  * * *

  How can I not? Zoey collapsed against the counter as Evan strutted out of the kitchen and buried her face in her hands. She would have never considered the events that would unfold when she got up this morning at five and dressed for work. Last night she’d thought about Evan and allowed herself a moment of fantasy about kissing him. Imagining him leaning over in the plane and placing his lips against hers. It was foolishness, she convinced herself.

  However, seeing him appear in the flesh had done fantastic and bizarre things to her body. At first she had believed him to be an apparition, a figment of her imagination. That wasn’t the case.

  Evan was real and now a permanent fixture in her life, wanting more from her if his kiss and words were any indication. He’d asked her for a date in a week. Did she want this? Regardless of the fact she thought he was uber-gorgeous. She could not deny her attraction to him. Hell, she couldn’t refute the fact she had hoped for someone in her life. However, this situation may just be too complicated. But was there a way out of this?

  Unless she quit her job or put in for a transfer and head back to the floor in the hospital. Run away. She was good at that her family would say. Hell, outside of her brother Ricky, she was the only one in her family to leave Paris. Only difference between her and Ricky, he’d finished four years in the military, went to college and returned to their hometown, something she would never do.

  She heard the front door closing and thought about Evan, a man who had to come back home for his ailing father. Okay, in a similar situation, she loved her parents and would do just as Evan had done. However, just observing the interaction between Evan and Mr. Douglas this morning she could easily see there wasn’t much love shown by them.

  Turning to the refrigerator, she took out the apple cranberry juice, Mr. Douglas’ favorite beverage. She also pulled out ingredients to make him some oatmeal. All the medications he took in a day, he needed something solid in his stomach to keep him from getting sick. Not to mention the oatmeal would help in regulating his cholesterol which was off the charts six months ago from a lifetime of poor diet and health.

  Placing everything on the tray she returned to the room. She had days before she would even see Evan again, but a job to do at the moment.

  “Okay, Mr. D, I have your juice and something for you to eat, as well.”

  Sitting the food on the small adjustable table attached to the bed and moved it up towards the older man’s waist.

  Mr. Douglas peered into the bowl and scrunched his nose as he continued to press the button on the remote and flip through channels. “I don’t like porridge. Do I look like Goldilocks or a damn bear?”

  “You’re as grouchy as one. I know you don’t prefer it, but you will eat it anyway.” She smiled down at him, as she compressed the button to raise the head of the bed, placing him at a higher, upright position. Mr. Douglas was a petulant old man, but she’d learned a long time ago that he was all bark, at least when it came to her. Other nurses always complained that he gave them a hard time and fought them on every front. By what she’d seen this morning between him and Evan, his son didn’t have an easy time with him either. It explained a lot. Now she could better understand the dejected look in Evan on the plane. Who would want to come home to this kind of treatment?

  “For you,” he grumbled.

  Going to the table on the other side of his bed, she set a med-cup out and began to dole out his plethora of medications for his blood pressure, vitamin D, iron, fluid, cholesterol and muscle relaxers.

  When she turned back to him, he was eating his oatmeal with his left hand while staring at a rerun of Matlock. She held the small cup out to him. “Lily will be here in about an hour for your physical therapy.”

  He mumbled something under his breath about not wanting to do it. Setting his spoon down slowly, she noted the severe shaking of his hand and the beads of sweat that popped out on his forehead. It broke her heart to see him struggle so, but she knew it was his own fault that he wasn’t further along in his strength and coordination; his tetchy attitude.

  “None of that ill tempered behavior towards Lily or I’ll move your remote so you can’t watch Murder, She Wrote and put it on one of those reality shows you hate.”

  Holding his cup of pills in his hand, he stared at her. “How can you threaten a dying man?”

  She laughed. “No worries. You’re not dying anytime soon. Not on my watch.”

  As he dumped one of the pills into his mouth, she thought she noticed a small twinkle in his eyes. It wasn’t quite illuminated, or joyful, but it was Mr. Douglas’ slight way of showing humor.

  “Mr. Douglas why is it you are so hard on your son?”

  He didn’t respond at first, just stared down into the small cup of meds as if he expected the colorful menagerie may have held the answer.

  “You wouldn’t understand,” he whispered in a gruff voice.

  “I may if you give me a chance.”

  He shook his head. “Some things are just between a father and his son.” Bringing the cup to his mouth he went silent again.

  As much as she wanted to help cure the bad blood between the Douglas men, she respected the older man’s wishes. Besides, her role there as a caretaker, a nurse, she wasn’t supposed to get involved in the family affairs of her patients.

  What do you call your agreeing to a date with Evan? Her mind taunted.

  She didn’t know what was happening between her and Evan or why she was allowing it, but she’d never felt the connection to another man as she did with the younger Mr. Douglas and she couldn’t resist the desire to explore it.

  Chapter six

  “Man, do you wear a uniform well.”

  Evan shut the front door and turned to see Zoey walking out of his dad’s room carrying a bowl. Today she wore scrubs that were cream in color with big blue and yellow butterflies all over them. Apparel that was not meant to be sexy, but he could not help but admire the way it conformed to the delectable contours of her body.

  “I can say the same about you?”

  She laughed. “Scrubs aren’t sexy.”

  Setting his black carry-on bag by the door, he took a few steps across the living room, but kept the couch between them. Approaching her, he allowed his gaze to travel along her body. A body that had haunted his mind awake and sleep for the last few days. “Who says they’re not?” He met her eyes again.

  She smiled, shyly, glanced away then back at him. “Well, I think you still win with your tailored pilot’s uniform.”

  “We’ll agree to disagree.” He winked at her.

  Zoey continued her walk to the kitchen and he followed her.

  “How’s my father?” While he had been away, there weren’t any calls so he hoped that meant good news.

  Setting the bowl in the sink, she said, “No change.” She sighed. “If he would just try a little harder in therapy and let go of whatever anger he’s carrying inside then maybe he’d turn the corner on a positive note.”

  “I’m sure, b
ut him doing that would be a miracle.” Lifting a hand he rubbed the back of his neck. Nodding toward the bowl, he asked. “Did he actually eat all of his food this time?”

  “Oh, yes. Only because it was his sherbet snack.”

  Arching an eyebrow he stared at her. “He told you about his love for rainbow sherbet?”

  “Yup and other things. He said your mother was an amazing cook, but she never mastered the art of making his favorite treat.”

  A small laugh rolled out of him as he recalled all his mother’s disastrous attempts at the cool dessert. He stared at this woman before him, calm, sweet and alluring. Who was she? How did she manage to come in and get his father not only to listen to her, but tell his secrets, too?

  “That’s true. He used to enjoy eating it right before bed.”

  “Well, his stomach is a little more irritable nowadays, so it is best for him to have a small scoop in the middle of the day.”

  “Enough about my father. How are you?” He wanted to kiss her. Pull her into his arms again and reacquaint himself with her lips. But, he needed to slow things down.

  “I’m well. No complaints.” She smiled. “However, you on the other hand look exhausted.”

  “A little. Long flight and I’m getting used to being back behind the wheel.” He dropped his hand.

  “Ah.” She leaned against the counter. “Well, if you want to get changed, I have some free time in about thirty minutes, I think I could be persuaded into giving you a shoulder rub.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Lily, will be here to give your father physical therapy and it usually takes about an hour and a half. I can’t leave the premises in case she needs help, but it is my time.”

  Hell there was no way he was going to pass up an opportunity to have her hands on him, his body was already warming with the thought.

  “Okay, I’m going to put my stuff up and take a shower, and see you downstairs then.”

  Her brown eyes held a spark as she moved away from the sink, passed him with a light brush to his shoulder and exited the kitchen.

  He waited a couple of beats, giving her time to get across the living room, otherwise he knew he would have been standing at the archway of the kitchen watching her plump round ass sway like a lion admires a deer--a succulent delicious treat.

  * * *

  “Are you ready to get started Mr. Douglas?” Lily was standing at the foot of the bed staring down at the patient.

  “No,” James growled at the physical therapist giving her and evil eyed look. He shifted his gaze to Zoey as he did every day. “Tell her to go away.”

  “Not going to happen, sir.” Zoey patted his shoulder. “I will be out back if you need me Lily.”

  “What about me?” Mr. Douglas whined.

  “As long as it is not salvation from Lily I’ll be here.” Smiling, she turned and headed out of the room, seeing Evan standing there halted her feet and made her heart flutter. His hair still wet from the shower he must have taken, appeared dark as it was combed back slick against his head. He wore a Carolina blue t-shirt that was pulled tight over powerful, shoulders and his broad chest, even though it was loose around his abs. Long dark blue, jersey style, basketball pants covered his legs and on his feet he just sported white socks. He looked comfortable and incredible, like her dream come to life. That’s where he’d been appearing nightly in the last few days since she’d seen him.

  Her heart began to race and sweat was beginning to bead up on the back of her neck. She really needed to get herself under control around him. Being in his house was her job and she needed to remain professional.

  “I decided to stick my head in and see how the patient is doing.”He casually leaned against the door frame.

  She glanced over her shoulder at Mr. Douglas as he attempted to squirm away from Lily. “Ready and excited for his therapy.”

  “Liar,” Mr. Douglas barked.

  Lily laughed.

  “Evan, this is Lily, your dad’s physical therapist. She comes five days a week to work with him.”

  She noticed Evan taking in Lily’s appearance, not in a sexual way, just observant. Most people did the same when they met her. Lily was an Asian woman about five eight in height and built like a sumo wrestler. If it weren’t for her breasts and lipstick someone could easily mistake her for a man. However, the therapist was happily married with three boys.

  “Nice to meet you, Lily.” Evan nodded at the other woman.

  “Same here.” She said as she assisted Mr. Douglas from the bed to a thick mat she had placed on the floor.

  “Well, we will leave you two to your fun.” Zoey led Evan away.

  “Wow, she is something else,” he said as they moved through the living room.

  “She’s a force to be reckoned with. However, very sweet. Your father has had other therapists, but he’s sent all of them, but Lily ranting and crying out the door within twenty minutes. He’s had Lily for two months now. If it wasn’t for her, atrophy would have settled into his joints and muscles worst than it has. He refuses to do anything with his right side when she is not around. He should have been walking on his own by now.”

  “But, he’s not.” The heavy weight of worry was evident in Evan’s voice and countenance.

  “No, he isn’t.” Pausing, she stared at the man before her and wondered about the weight and strain he carried. His body was tense for more reasons than just sitting behind the wheel of a plane for repeated hours for days. “How about you go ahead on the back porch and I will meet you outside in a minute with something to drink?”

  “Deal.” He did a little jog in the direction of the back door.

  She continued her path to the kitchen for the drinks. This morning she’d made cider, because both she and the elder Mr. Douglas liked it so she kept some ready to be heated. Now, all she needed to do was warm two cups of it up. While the cider and cinnamon boiled, she opened up the tin of cookie’s she’d made two days ago of raspberry shortbread cookies and placed four of them on a small plate and set it on the tray she normally used to take food to Mr. Douglas. The cookies were one of her favorite holiday treats. Since she’d moved to North Carolina she’d had to learn to make them herself. Multiple failed batches had gone into the trash. Learning to make a small batch had been the trick. Otherwise she would be bigger than St. Nick on Christmas day from consuming them all. She could have just had her mother ship a tin of them, but it was a part of her independence.

  She went into her room, quickly to put on a light sweater. When she returned, she noticed the cider was simmering. She turned off the small pot and poured the liquid into coffee mugs, keeping the stick in the pot. After setting them on the tray she gathered her things and went outside, hearing James’ grunts and complaints along the way.

  “I hope you like cider and cookies,” she asked pushing the screen with her foot and stepping out onto the porch.

  Evan saw her and rose from his seat and took the tray from her. Setting it down on the small, knee-high resin wicker table that sat between two dark brown matching chairs, Evan waited for her to take a seat. The classic furniture complimented the blue color of Evan’s family home with its light brown trim. The air outside was crisp for early December but not too cold to enjoy a moment outside.

  The back porch had a high fence and only gave a view of other houses around them in the neighborhood, but she still enjoyed the sight. They sat in silence for some time while Evan nibbled on a cookie, she sipped her cider.

  “These are good, what brand are they? I’ll have to pick some up before my next flight.” He stared down at his half eaten treat as if he were looking for some trademark symbol or name.

  “Zoey Carliegh brand.”

  He glanced over at her with a raised eyebrow. “You made these?”

  “Yes,” she laughed. “What nurses aren’t supposed to be able to know how to cook?”

  “Not that, just with you having to serve my father all day, I just didn’t think you’d have the time.�
��

  “Ahh, well your father dozes a lot and when he’s up he likes to enjoy his shows in peace which gives me some time on my hands. They were my favorite childhood treat for Christmas and now I make them once a month for myself.”

  “Why wait for Santa?”

  “That’s right. Besides, they would never make it sitting out with a glass of milk waiting for him to come.”

  His bark of laughter was nice. “A girl after my own heart.”

  Those words made her heart flutter. Taking a deep breath she shifted her gaze back to the other houses to keep her thoughts under control. There was an attraction between her and Evan but that didn’t mean that anything would come from it.

  “Hey, aren’t I supposed to be getting a massage?” His finger brushed the back of her hand, gaining her attention.

  “That’s right.” She set her mug down and rose.

  “You were probably just being kind. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, I’ll live.” He pouted his bottom lip out, appearing the sullen boy.

  Smiling, she said, “I want to. Besides, a promise is a promise.”

  Moving behind his chair, she stood just staring at his wide shoulders and trying to control the slight tremble in her hands. Not wanting to waste too much time and have him turn around wondering what was taking her so long, she laid her hands on the side of his neck and began to knead the muscles softly. His skin was hot, warming her hands and taking away the chill that had begun to set in her fingers from the outside air.

  “Are you cold? Should I have brought you a blanket?”

  “No, this is perfect.” His words were low, husky almost a moan as he lowered his head to give her more access.

  She couldn’t agree more with his assessment of the situation. Her hands worked down along the muscles below his neck and she pressed her thumbs deep into the thick, hard tissue. She was no professional masseuse but even she could feel the knots that were balled under her fingers.

 

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