by Gina Wilkins
Joe D’Alessandro, Brynn decided during the next few days, was a very conniving man. He must have suspected she would have turned him down if he came out and asked her for a date. So, he didn’t ask. He just showed up.
He was there for dinner with his brother and sister-in-law Thursday evening. Before knowing that Joe would be there, Brynn had accepted Michelle’s invitation to dine with them. By the time it was mentioned that Joe would be joining them, it was too late to politely change her answer, of course.
Joe sat right beside her at the dinner table. It was suspiciously odd how often his thigh just “happened” to brush against hers during the meal. By the time she’d managed to choke down her dinner, she didn’t know whether she wanted more to strangle him or drag him outside and attack him in the bushes.
He insisted on walking her home afterward, as if she lived blocks away instead of a few yards. Brynn was aware that Tony and Michelle watched them speculatively as she and Joe left.
“I always thought doctors were very busy people with almost no free time,” she commented as they stepped out into the warm summer evening.
Joe patted the pager clipped to his belt. “Electronics have freed us somewhat. As long as I’m reachable, I’ve got time for myself after normal working hours.”
“I see. Um, I visited Kelly this afternoon. She said you told her she can probably be released in a couple of weeks.”
“Yes. She’s responding very well, and working hard at her therapy. She should be back on her feet by early fall, though she’ll need to support that leg with crutches at first.”
“She’s still in some pain. She doesn’t complain, but I can tell.”
He nodded. “I’ve started cutting back on the pain medication. It’s time.”
“She’ll have medication if she needs it?” Brynn didn’t like the idea of Kelly suffering.
“Of course. Kelly will have what she needs and she knows it. She and I have talked about this at length, and she’s the one who said she was ready to cut back. None of us want her to become overly dependent on the meds.”
“No, of course not.”
Joe turned to Brynn at her door. “Kelly’s lucky to have such a loyal, caring friend. I envy her.”
Brynn was startled by his words. “But you have...everything. A huge, close family. A fabulous career. And you must have dozens of friends.”
“All that is true, and I’m not taking any of it for granted. But I’m still going home alone tonight,” he remarked gently.
That silenced her, since there was nothing to say in response.
She reached quickly for her door. “Thanks for walking me home, Joe.”
His hand covered hers on the doorknob. “Will you ask me in for a little while?”
Just looking at their joined hands, feeling the warmth of his skin next to hers, caused a dull ache in her chest. She didn’t look at him when she spoke, her voice strained. “I’m really tired tonight, Joe. It’s been a long day.”
There was a taut pause, and then Joe sighed in resignation. “Patience,” he said, “is not something I’m known for. But for you, I’ll work on it.”
“Joe, I...”
Once again, he refused to allow her to say anything that would negate any chance of something developing between them. “I’ll be seeing you.”
He squeezed her hand lightly, then drew away. He was gone before Brynn could find the words to discourage his interest in her—not that she had any idea what she would have said.
Whether by coincidence or design on Joe’s part, Brynn happened to be visiting Kelly when Joe stopped in Friday afternoon.
He greeted his patient first, his tone friendly and lightly teasing, his smile warm. And then he turned that smile toward Brynn, and the sudden heat in his eyes nearly melted her kneecaps. It was a very good thing she was sitting down, she thought weakly, hoping she didn’t look as dazed as she felt at that moment.
“Hi, Brynn. How’s it going?”
“Fine, thanks. Do you need me to leave while you examine Kelly?”
He shook his head as he glanced through Kelly’s chart. “I’m just checking in. Therapy go okay today, Kelly?”
“The usual routine. I was brutally tortured, put through incredible pain and agony, folded, spindled and mutilated.”
Joe laughed. “Glad it wasn’t too bad.”
“Hey, Dr. Joe?”
“Yes?”
“When I get my legs back in working condition, I’m going to chase you down and break both of yours.”
He didn’t look noticeably fazed by the threat. “Well, that just gives you a reason to work harder, doesn’t it? It always helps to have a goal.”
Kelly sighed gustily. “You see what I have to put up with here, Brynn?”
Brynn nodded gravely. “You surely deserve a medal.”
“I heard you had a couple of cowboys in here earlier,” Joe said, closing the chart and pulling up the extra chair.
Kelly dimpled and nodded. “I was just telling Brynn about it. Jared and Shane Walker came into town to pick up some supplies for their ranch and they stopped in to visit me. They invited me to come see the ranch and have a riding lesson as soon as I’m able.”
“Shane knows how lonely a hospital room can be. He was hospitalized briefly after a car accident when he was a teenager. He wasn’t hospitalized nearly as long as you, Kelly, since he wasn’t as badly injured, but I can tell you he hated every minute of it. He shudders every time he mentions it.”
“I can’t imagine Shane being immobilized for long,” Brynn commented, smiling a little as she thought of Shane’s barely contained energy. “He must have been bouncing off the walls of his hospital room.”
“It happened shortly before I met him, so I wasn’t there to see it, but you’re probably right,” Joe agreed. “Shane’s always been a hyper kid.”
“Kid?” Kelly giggled. “Shane’s hardly a kid. He’s three years older than I am—the same age as Brynn.”
A fleeting frown crossed Joe’s face. “It was a figure of speech. Remember, I’ve known Shane since he was fourteen and I was in medical school.”
“How old are you, Doc?”
Brynn bit her lip, thinking ruefully that Kelly had never been shy about asking personal questions.
“I’m thirty-five. Does that seem ancient to you?”
“Not at all,” Kelly assured him with a glance toward Brynn. “Actually, it seems just right.”
Brynn narrowed her eyes and sent Kelly a stern mental message. Be very careful, Kelly.
But Kelly was wearing the mischievous look that meant someone was going to be embarrassed—usually Brynn.
“So how have you gotten to this ripe, old age without getting married?” she asked Joe with exaggerated innocence.
I’m going to strangle her.
Unaware of Brynn’s fierce thought, Joe grinned. “Now you sound like my family. Especially my father.”
Kelly wasn’t letting him get away without an answer. “So...?”
He shrugged good-naturedly. “I’ve been in school most of my life. I’m just getting really started in my practice.”
“Any serious prospects in the picture?”
Joe lifted an eyebrow. “Why, Miss Morrison, are you flirting with me?”
She batted her eyelashes. “I have to do something to entertain myself while I’m in here.”
“You could always take up knitting,” Brynn suggested dryly.
Joe smiled. “That seems much too tame for her.”
“True. She’d probably enjoy kickboxing, but she’s not exactly in shape for that at the moment.”
Kelly cleared her throat. Loudly. “I am still in the room.”
Joe chuckled and pushed himself out of his chair. “I’ve got to be running along. Next time I visit, you can ask me my shoe size and bank balance.”
“Oh, I’m sure I can think of more interesting questions to ask you,” Kelly murmured.
“Make a list. That will give you something to k
eep you busy until I see you again.”
Joe turned to Brynn, his eyes suddenly gleaming with a slightly wicked smile. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, Ms. Larkin.”
She couldn’t help smiling a little as she responded in the same formal tone. “Thank you, Dr. D’Alessandro.”
“I’ll see you again soon.”
He was whistling beneath his breath when he left.
Brynn stared at the empty doorway until she realized that several long moments had passed in silence. She turned quickly toward the bed, her cheeks warming.
Kelly was looking at her with a glint of speculation. “That,” she murmured, “sounded a lot like a promise.”
Or a threat, Brynn couldn’t help adding silently.
“So when are you going to ask the girl out?”
Lifting an eyebrow in response to his father’s impatient tone, Joe looked away from the baseball game playing on the TV. “You’re talking to me?”
Vinnie rolled his eyes. “No, I’m talking to your brother.”
Lounging on his parents’ den couch, his gaze focused on the television screen, Tony sipped his beer and spoke without looking away from the game. “If you’re talking to me, then the ‘girl’ had better be my wife. Michelle would kill me if I asked anyone else out.”
“And so she should,” Vinnie said sternly. “Only a bastardo breaks the vows he makes before God and his wife.”
It was talk like that that had kept Joe single for so long. Vinnie and Carla believed absolutely in the sanctity and irrevocability of marriage, and they’d passed their beliefs to their sons. Tony claimed he’d taken one look at Michelle and had known he’d never look twice at another woman.
Joe had been waiting a long time to feel that way about someone.
Vinnie turned his attention back to his youngest son. “Well? I’m waiting for an answer. When are you going to ask her out?”
“By ‘her’ you mean...?”
“Brynn, of course.” Vinnie sounded thoroughly disgusted with Joe’s obtuseness. “Who else?”
“If I decide to ask a woman out, it will be a woman and a time of my own choosing.” Joe turned his attention pointedly back to the game.
Vinnie responded to the hint the way he always did—he ignored it. “She’s a nice girl. Pretty, too. And we all know you’re interested. Tony said—”
Tony coughed loudly. “Er, Dad...”
Joe glared at his brother and then at his father. “I thought we were going to watch the game.”
“The game is boring. I’m more interested in hearing why my son who is smart enough to be a doctor is too dense to know when he meets a woman who is obviously perfect for him.”
“That may be obvious to you, Dad—and okay, maybe the thought has crossed my mind—but it’s certainly not obvious to Brynn. She’s given me no reason to believe she wants me to ask her out.”
“Michelle thinks she’s interested,” Tony murmured, looking ready to duck, if necessary.
“Is everyone in the family speculating about my social life?” Joe demanded in exasperation.
“Of course. That’s what we D’Alessandros do.”
“Well, stop it.”
“You bring the girl to Paul and Teresa’s for the Fourth of July,” Vinnie ordered. “She’ll see what a fine family you have, and she’ll understand what a fine catch you are.”
“You make me sound like a nice fish,” Joe muttered.
Tony laughed.
“Bring her for the Fourth of July,” Vinnie repeated, unperturbed.
“I’m not sure Brynn is entirely comfortable in large family situations. She seems to enjoy being with people, but she always seems more relaxed in small groups.”
“The outsider syndrome,” Tony murmured.
Joe frowned. “What?”
Tony shrugged. “It’s what Jared calls it. He and Joe and Ryan have talked about the adjustments they’ve had to make since being reunited with their family. Growing up in foster homes, they tended to feel out of place among other families. As if they didn’t really belong. It was something they all had to overcome, even when they first started getting together with their own brothers and sisters and in-laws. Brynn probably feels that outsider syndrome when she’s surrounded by D’Alessandros and Walkers. Lacking a family of her own, she’s had little experience with the dynamics of large family gatherings.”
“That was very insightful, Antonio.”
Tony smiled in response to his father’s admiring comment. “I can’t take credit for any of it. I was just quoting my in-laws.”
Vinnie thought about Tony’s comments for a bit longer, then nodded. “I’m sure Brynn has her share of baggage from her foster care experiences, but she seems to have turned out just fine. We wouldn’t have her taking care of our little ones otherwise. The children tell me they are already devoted to her. She’ll make a good mother to her own children.”
Joe choked on a sip of his beer. He set the can down quickly. “Okay, that’s enough. You’re talking about Brynn as if she were a broodmare you’ve been looking over.”
Vinnie’s brows drew downward. “I’ve simply pointed out that she’s a nice girl—smart, pretty, good with children. We all like her, and we can tell that you do, too. So what’s so bad about urging you to do something about it?”
“Just back off, Dad. When it comes to Brynn, I’ll make my own decisions.”
Apparently deciding he’d pushed as far as he could for now, Vinnie subsided into mutters and returned his attention to the TV. But Joe knew the subject was far from forgotten—by any of them.
His father’s encouragement still echoing in his mind, Joe approached Brynn’s door Sunday afternoon. He carried a package in one hand, his excuse for popping in this time. He knew he should have called first, but he’d decided to simply show up unannounced.
Keeping Brynn guessing about him was part of Joe’s strategy.
Sometimes, however, his scheming backfired. Joe wasn’t at all pleased when Shane Walker answered Brynn’s door in response to Joe’s knock.
Dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans, Shane looked strong and work toughened, quite different from the skinny fourteen-year-old boy Joe had first met.
“You’re here again?” Joe asked, studying Shane’s tanned, smug face with narrowed eyes.
Apparently, Shane found something amusing in Joe’s tone—but then, Shane generally found something to amuse him in just about everything. He planted his hands on his hips, spread his sneakered feet and cocked his head in a gunman’s pose. “Yep,” he drawled, his blue eyes gleaming, “I’m here again. Wanna make something of it, pilgrim?”
“Is Brynn here?”
Shane didn’t seem to mind that Joe refused to acknowledge his teasing. “She’s changing her clothes. We’re going bowling.”
“You’re going bowling?”
“Nothing wrong with your hearing, is there, Doc?”
“Joe?” Brynn stepped up behind Shane, looking surprised. She wore a brightly striped, scoop-neck T-shirt, with denim shorts, white sport socks and sneakers.
Joe’s first instinct was to step between Brynn and Shane, putting considerably more distance between this attractive young couple.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”
Joe nodded. “I know you have plans. I won’t keep you. I just stopped by to bring you something.”
“Another crystal clock, Doc?” Shane quipped.
Joe was still looking at Brynn when he answered. “It’s Quinn Gallagher’s newest police mystery. You mentioned to Dad the other day that you like Gallagher’s books. I just finished reading this one, and I thought you might enjoy it.”
Brynn accepted the package eagerly. “Why, thank you. I’ve looked forward to reading this. I was going to wait for it to come out in paperback, but now I don’t have to be so patient. I’ll take very good care of it, I promise.”
“Just enjoy it. Books are meant to be read and experienced, not handled with cotton gloves and stored i
n glass cases.”
“You like shoot-’em-up thrillers, Brynn?” Shane asked, sounding surprised.
“Love them. I also love romances, classic British mysteries, some science fiction and fantasy and Garfield comic books. I just love to read.”
Shane made a face and pushed a hand through his thick brown hair. “I’m afraid I’m not much of a reader. Can’t seem to sit still long enough to concentrate.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Brynn smiled at Shane with such comfortable affection that Joe felt his hands begin to clench. He relaxed them quickly, before anyone noticed, and took a step toward the door.
“Have a good time bowling, you two. I’ll see you around.”
“You’re welcome to join us, Doc,” Shane said, and he looked completely sincere with the invitation.
“Thanks, Shane, but I have things to do this afternoon.”
“Thank you again for the book, Joe. I can’t wait to read it.”
Joe wasn’t thrilled to drive away, leaving Brynn to have fun with Shane. His only hope was that Brynn would think of him now—at least a little—during her afternoon with the younger man.
Chapter Eleven
Brynn neither saw nor heard from Joe again until the following Wednesday. But out of sight, in this case, was most definitely not out of mind.
She found herself thinking of all him all the time. While working with his nieces and nephews. Visiting her friend in the hospital where she felt his presence so keenly. Reading the book he’d brought her because he thought she would enjoy it.
All the time.
She wondered if he knew his silence would only make her more aware of him.
When she did see him again, it was the same way he usually came to her—without warning.
It was midafternoon Wednesday. A warm June breeze caressed Brynn’s cheek and ruffled her hair as she sat on a lawn swing built for two, baby Justin in her arms. He gazed up at her in slightly cross-eyed fascination as she sang softly to him, gently pushing the swing with her foot.
He was such a beautiful baby. She stroked a finger over his perfectly formed head, with its fuzz of curly black hair. His chubby little cheek was impossibly soft, and his tiny mouth puckered reflexively when her finger strayed close to the corner.