by Selena Blake
“What are we, middle schoolers?” he asked crossly.
“Some of us are acting like it,” she said and regretted the words immediately.
“Sorry,” he murmured, sounding tired.
“Me too.”
“Well?” she asked when he didn’t finish the thought or give her directions. The sooner she got him home, the better. Hopefully dinner would improve his mood.
CHAPTER THREE
Greg wasn’t sure how to answer her without giving up Baby’s secret. Best to skip as close to the truth as possible.
“I was interested in a relationship, not the casual fling Baby proposed,” Greg said. How had they even gotten on this topic, he wondered.
The car weaved over onto the safety ruts on the side of the highway, jiggling the car like they were in an earthquake. Greg winced as his beaten body protested. She quickly returned her attention to the road and gently steered back into her lane.
“Sorry,” she murmured, grimacing right along with him.
“That surprises you?” he asked after his body quit spiking with pain. From what he could tell the girls shared everything. Why not his love life or lack thereof?
“Yes and no,” Gretchen answered.
“Why?” he found himself asking even though he felt like a gossiping teen.
“I–I just don’t understand how she couldn’t be interested in you. But then again…”
Greg tried to wrap his tired brain around her words. Was she saying she was interested in him? If so, why hadn’t she ever said anything?
“Then again?” he prompted.
“Baby’s never been one to commit.”
He knew that…had known that in the back of his mind, in his heart of hearts. Even as she’d been flirting with him two months ago during the Super Bowl party, he’d known she flirted with everyone. But still…
“Yeah well, JJ warned me. It’s my fault for not listening.”
“JJ warned you?”
“Yeah.”
Greg braved the pain in his neck and glanced at Gretchen’s profile as they cruised down the highway. Her lips were a little pouty, her nose turned up ever so slightly, and her chocolate brown hair brushed her cheek like a gentle caress. He knew her features as well as he knew his own. She exuded calm and confidence as she drove under Spaghetti Junction, named for all the massive bridges that converged in one spot, resembling spaghetti noodles. As traffic from 285 merged with 85 south she slowed a little so another car could merge into her lane.
So she was a courteous driver too; he wasn’t surprised. Greg had to give it to her, other than the one trip to the grooves she was smooth behind the wheel. Since he always drove, his aching muscles were pleased with the discovery and his mind wasn’t as anxious as he’d thought it would be.
After the doctor said he could go home he’d instantly started wondering how he’d be able to get in another car. How would he be able to stand not having control of the vehicle? But Gretchen was easy on his ears, funny, patient and careful too.
She seemed genuinely surprised that JJ had warned him about Baby. He should have heeded his sister’s warning. Just one more instance where thinking with his little head wasn’t the right answer.
“So why didn’t you listen?” Gretchen asked softly.
“Usual reasons. She’s my sister. And I’m a guy.”
She laughed softly. “Men don’t take directions very well.”
He did. Well, depending on who was giving the instructions and what she was instructing him to do. Damn. He shouldn’t be letting his mind wander, although in his current condition, wandering was about as far as he was going to get.
“I’m surprised you and Baby didn’t work out,” she said softly, as if she wasn’t quite committed to her words. She tucked her hair behind her ear. He recognized the nervous habit and wondered what on earth she had to be nervous about. Surely not driving on the highway, she did it all the time. That left…him.
He decided to ignore it for now since he couldn’t do anything about it.
“Why?” he asked to keep her talking.
“You’re both good looking and outgoing. You have a lot in common.” She switched lanes and he noted how she used her turn signal every time.
“Yeah, so I thought.” His mind drifted back to the day he’d helped JJ move out of her condo last year. Baby had been so flirty and attentive he’d pursued her.
“I don’t get it,” Gretchen said, sounding adorable and confused all at the same time. Her mouth was turned down in a delicate frown.
“What’s not to get?” he asked, rested his head against the headrest. “She just wants to bang everybody. She doesn’t want a real relationship.”
Gretchen sucked in a sharp breath and then was quiet for a long time. Lips pursed, she didn’t look at him, only kept her eyes on the road and the rear mirrors.
“I’m—I’m sorry, that was crass.”
“But one hundred percent correct. I could have told you that and saved you the trouble.”
Gretchen glanced over at him, just a quick look before returning her gaze to the road.
“She told me Baby wasn’t ready to settle down. I thought if I showed an interest…whatever. It doesn’t matter. She’s not the person I thought she was.”
Gretchen sighed and it wasn’t the blissful I’m-happy kind of sigh. “You can’t tell me after all these years you didn’t know Baby is fast and loose. She’s my best friend and I love her, but geez, Greg, how could you not know what’s she’s like?”
“I thought that was all exaggerated. I thought when JJ said Baby doesn’t do relationships she meant Baby didn’t date much.”
“Baby’s too busy having fun to date. She works long hours and has more extracurricular activities than I have pairs of shoes.”
“So she’s too busy for a relationship?” he asked.
“When the right man comes along I’m sure she’ll make time.”
“You’re probably right.” While Greg wouldn’t call Baby flighty, she did seem to be a complicated person. And busy.
With a few months in the rear view mirror he was really glad he’d put the brakes on during the Super Bowl party. She’d wanted sex and didn’t care that they were in his sister’s house. A house that still didn’t have a lot of furniture. He didn’t want casual sex anymore and he’d told Baby that. But she was insistent that casual was all she wanted, all she had time for.
He believed her now.
He also couldn’t figure out what the hell he’d ever seen in her. Word was she’d gone right back to the party and flirted with everyone else. He just didn’t get that and he wasn’t about to ask her what the hell she was thinking.
“How are you feeling?” Gretchen asked a few minutes later.
He studied her profile. She’d always been the quietest of JJ’s friends. Studious and watchful. Sweet, but on the periphery of the group, of his life. He’d always thought she engineered it that way. Baby was the attention getter of the group. Cindy was beautiful and opinionated. Gretchen took care of everyone.
The way she was taking care of him right now.
“What?” she asked, sneaking another quick glance.
“I’ve been better. Neck hurts like hell.” Didn’t help that he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. But it was like seeing her for the first time. And yet he’d known her forever. Long brown hair a shade lighter than his favorite dark chocolate, incredibly warm brown eyes that watched him with unabashed curiosity. He knew the pucker of the almost-dimple in her cheek but today…today everything was different.
“The doctor said that’s to be expected.”
Yeah. He knew that. He’d been sitting right there while the doctor had given her instructions on caring for him. While she’d been playing the part of his fiancé.
He would have grunted at the thought if it wouldn’t hurt so freaking bad. Gretchen Mascoe didn’t lie.
One moment. Just one moment and then the world had gone to hell-in-a-hand-basket. He’d been in the ba
ckseat and without airbags to protect him, he’d been thrown against the door like a discarded McDonald’s bag.
Ryan had been in the passenger’s seat next to Peter. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Peter was gone. Ryan, thanks to the air bags, had walked away with a couple of bruises.
Greg just couldn’t wrap his head around it.
So he concentrated on the woman at his side. She was very much alive and sneaking glances at him as if to make sure he was still breathing. He appreciated her concern.
While the doctor had obviously been interested in his health, it just wasn’t the same. He’d felt a bubble of happiness travel through him the moment she walked in the door, worry in her big brown eyes.
A familiar face. Not the sterile, placid expressions of the doctors or the flirty smiles from the nurses. But a familiar, trusted face.
And she’d told the hospital she was his fiancé so they’d let her see him. From what he knew about Gretchen, she wasn’t one to lie. But he appreciated her deception. Her presence had pushed aside memories of the crash and he’d felt a surge of energy, strength to get out of that bed, into his clothes and away from the hospital.
And despite what he’d been through, he’d enjoyed teasing her about their upcoming wedding. What would it take to make her blush again, he wondered as sleep claimed him.
“Greg…” A gentle touch on his arm woke him.
“Hmm?”
“Sorry, I was on autopilot. What’s your address?”
He glanced around and realized they were in front of her little cottage style house. A few years ago, he and Ronny had helped her and the girls move boxes and a few pieces of furniture in after she’d purchased it.
“Yeah…” He drug a hand down his face and grimaced at the pain in his shoulder. After a few slow, deep breaths to alleviate the pain, he spoke again. “Let me think, because I live on the third floor.”
And the doctor had said no stairs for a few days until his right leg was healed. Or at least not aching like a son-of-a-gun. Damn, he needed to think fast because the pain medication was wearing off and he really wanted to stretch his legs all the way.
“Where’d you say my dad was?” he asked. He supposed he could crash on the couch of his childhood home since all the bedrooms were upstairs. Then again, he didn’t have a key.
“Fishing. JJ said she couldn’t reach him. “Do you want me to try?”
He really hated imposing on her like this.
“I’m interrupting your evening,” he said, glancing at the darkened street.
“Not at all. I spend most evenings rescuing dudes in distress, I just forgot my cape is all.”
He let out a short laugh at her good natured teasing and his ribs protested.
“That’d be great. Do you have his number?” he asked. The sooner he got in touch with his dad, the sooner he could get another pill and stop hiding just how freaking bad his body ached right now.
She already had her cell phone out, ready to type in numbers before he finished the sentence. He wondered if she was trying to get rid of him and found he really didn’t want to be without her company tonight. Somehow she made a dreadful situation a little brighter and easier to bear.
“JJ sent me his number just in case she lost reception during her flight.”
“Her flight?”
“She and Trevor are flying back as soon as they can catch a flight.”
With her bottom lip between her teeth and her brows drawn in concentration, she dialed a number.
“They don’t need to do that. I’ll be fine.”
“We’ll call them next,” she said, already holding the phone to her ear. Half a minute later she shook her head. “No answer. His phone must be dead or—”
“He’s still in the middle of the lake with no reception.”
“I was going to say Moby-Dick ate it.”
The mental picture of his dad on Lake Lanier, losing his cell phone to a giant whale almost brought a smile to his lips.
“Why don’t we get you inside where you can lay down comfortably while we sort this out. I still need to run to the drugstore and get your pills.”
She had her pocketbook in her lap, phone in the front pocket and was reaching for the keys before he’d even digested her offer. Laying down sounded real good right now.
So she wasn’t trying to get rid of him. She was simply efficient. A caretaker. Like his mom had been. At least, the mom he remembered. JJ’s mom. Technically his step-mother but he’d never thought of her that way. She was the only mother figure he remembered.
“That’d be great.” Darn, couldn’t he say anything else to her? He sounded like a broken record but Gretchen’s offers did sound great. She had the most soothing quality about her, a quality he’d only known when JJ’s mom had been alive.
Sure, Leigh Ann Fairchild hadn’t wanted her kids to play the same sports and she was wary of too much competition in her house. But she’d loved and taken care of him and his brother’s when they’d needed her most. She’d been a tender touch with a backbone of steel. He’d never had to stay in bed when he was sick. She’d build him a comfortable nest on the couch and make his favorite foods. It was no wonder he and his siblings hadn’t stayed sick long. Leigh Ann Fairchild had been an excellent mom/nurse.
Greg didn’t bother opening the door, but he did release his seatbelt. There was no getting around it, as much as he hated it, he needed help. Gretchen’s help.
“I’m so glad you weren’t hurt worse,” she murmured after she opened the door. Silently, she offered him a hand.
He liked that she didn’t order him about and make him feel like an invalid. That would have chafed more than being unable to help her change the tire. Once he was on his feet, he glanced down at the woman who was holding him up like her life depended on it.
She flicked a glance up at his face as if to gage his reaction. How had he ever thought her unassuming? Light from the street lamp lit her expressive features. Through the haze of pain he noticed the flecks of gold fire in her brown eyes and the combination surprised him.
“Let’s get you settled,” she murmured, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Am I holding you too tight?”
“No.” Though his bones might be protesting slightly, he rather liked the feel of her wrapped around him, her body tucked beneath his left arm.
They made slow, steady progress up her sidewalk and onto the porch. He hated having to lean on her but found her surprisingly strong and steady. Though the splint on his leg took off some of the pressure, he was acutely aware of the dull pain mixed with sudden sharp spikes that took his breath away.
Focus on the door, forget the pain and ignore how good she smells.
But that was damn near impossible when she was so close.
She made quick work of unlocking the front door. After pushing it wide, she escorted him across the threshold. He got a quick impression of a neutral space, soft colors, and a small wrought iron lamp casting a warm glow. She dropped her keys next to a half full glass of wine on the entry table, a reminder that she’d left in a hurry to rescue him.
For some reason, the simple design and medium toned wood surprised him. He’d imagined her to be the kind of girl who liked chipped white paint and flower prints.
The long rectangular mirror over the entry table gave him his first look at himself. He couldn’t feel the scratches on his face yet, although the wound beneath the bandage…that was starting to hurt. The faded, baggy blue scrubs were, as Gretchen had said, not his color.
“I look like hell.”
“You look good, considering. Let’s get you to the couch.” She turned into the first doorway on the right.
More neutral tones. Khaki walls, matching cream colored sofas faced each other atop an off white rug that was stark against dark wood floors. Everything was different than the last time he’d been here. Fresh and cozy with not a floral print pillow in sight. No lacy curtains either.
He’d been completely wrong about her. In more
ways than one, it seemed.
“Here. Have a seat and then I’ll grab some more comfortable pillows.” As soon as she’d helped him onto the couch, she plucked off the orange throw pillows and tossed them toward the other sofa. Then she disappeared down the hall, leaving him alone just long enough to catch his breath and wince openly at the pain throbbing through his shoulder.
A few minutes later he heard her shoes clicking against the wood floor, growing louder. He didn’t remember the house having a wood floor, and those were details he usually noticed, given his job and passion for homes and construction.
He was impressed by how much she’d done, updating and making the place her own.
She reappeared with two bed pillows, one fluffier than the other and tucked them into the corner of the sofa. “Do you want to lay down?”
That sounded like a good idea since his head was throbbing now along with the rest of him. “Yeah.”
“Need any help?” She stood back, as if she didn’t want to crowd or pressure him.
He grimaced as he lifted his legs.
She held out a hand and he stared at it for a long minute. Her nails were natural with maybe a coat of clear polish. Nothing trendy or colorful that would attract attention.
It had always irked him when he had to lean on anyone, but especially, well...it was more that he didn’t want her to see him so weak and helpless.
“Come on, tough guy. Just let me get you settled so you’re not in so much pain.” Was she reading his mind?
He gripped her hand and was once again surprised by her strength. With her as an anchor, he maneuvered himself more easily. As he laid back, she arranged the pillows behind him and he relaxed against them, thankful for a soft place to lay.
“Better?”
“Much.”
“Great. You stay put while I go get your prescription filled.” She breezed into one of the other rooms and then returned with a cordless phone in hand.
“In case you need anything…” She perched on the edge of the sofa, her hip brushing his, and pulled a pen and paper from a basket under the ottoman. “Here’s my cell phone number,” she said, scribbling away.
There was a hand print on her hip. A child’s hand print. She’d come to his rescue straight from school? He didn’t want to investigate what that meant or why it meant so much to him. Not quite yet.