Another Chance (Lake Placid Series Book 7)

by Natalie Ann

  Matt shivered at that description. “I did. I’ll never be able to apologize enough for it. I’m sorry for that.”

  “I don’t need your apologies. Though I can’t tell you the number of phone calls I got that first month she was in college crying and wanting to come home. And don’t you dare tell her I said that to you.”

  “I won’t. It won’t make you feel any better, but I was miserable too that first year.”

  “I don’t think she’d believe that. I’m pretty sure she thought you were partying it up in your new single life.”

  “Hardly,” he said. “I told Dena that.” He wasn’t going to say more. It wasn’t a conversation for the two of them, but one for him and Dena to have.

  “Whether you were or not is no business of mine. What is my business is Dena. It’s when she starts to doubt herself because she isn’t sure what to do or what to believe anymore.”

  “What is she doubting about herself?” he asked.

  “That’s not my place to say. And you’re not going to tell her I was here, are you?”

  “If she asks, I won’t lie,” Matt said.

  “See that you never lie to her about anything.”

  “I won’t. Trust me, I don’t want to get on her bad side.”

  “It’s not a side people see often, but it can be pretty ugly.”

  “I never meant to hurt her,” he said.

  “I believe that. I believe that you hurt yourself just as much when you did it. I’m not going to ask you why or what you were thinking. It’s not my business and only you know the answer to that. What I am going to say is not to do anything like that again. If you think things won’t work out with you two, don’t blindside her with it.”

  “I don’t plan on blindsiding Dena with anything. Conrad. To the father of Dena, I’m telling you right now—I never stopped loving her. Ever. I did and said some stupid things and I’m going to spend the rest of my life making up for them. If things don’t work out, it’s going to be my heart on the ground left for the wolves, not hers.”

  “And you’d have no one to blame but yourself,” Conrad said, then let himself out.

  Best Laid Plan

  Matt never remembered Dena being all that romantic before. Or if she was, he just didn’t pay much attention to it. But a few times now she’d commented on romantic things and thoughts and his radar was going crazy.

  He was going to do everything within his power to give her what she wanted. So when Valentine’s Day rolled around he suggested that they have dinner at his place and he’d cook. He knew she was on call this week and since it was the middle of the week, she’d prepared him for the possibility of their dinner getting interrupted.

  That hadn’t bothered him all that much. What were a few phone calls here and there if that was the case?

  With those thoughts in his mind, he went about reading a recipe online for lasagna. He knew Dena always loved Italian food before and he was banking on that fact still remaining.

  With the sauce simmering, including small chunks of hot sausage in the pan with it, he set about cooking the noodles.

  Dena said she’d be over around five unless she was held up. Since he’d read lasagna needed to set for a bit after it was baked, he was going to plan on pulling it out of the oven a few minutes after five. That would give them time to have a glass of wine and unwind.

  Best laid plans were halted the minute she walked in the door at five fifteen and he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, then handed her a glass of Pinot Noir he picked up at the liquor store earlier.

  “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said.

  “Right back at you.” She kissed him on the lips, licking around and humming. “Tastes good, but I’m afraid I can’t have a glass tonight. Sorry.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “I’m on call. No drinking during that time at all. I could be called into surgery or the OR at any minute.”

  He hadn’t realized that part of her job. When he thought of her being on call, he figured it would be a few phone calls she’d have to answer and then get back to her night. “You can’t make any plans at all?”

  “Not when I’m on call,” she explained.

  “What could you be called in to do?”

  “Anything. I don’t just treat patients in the office or those that have procedures and stay at the cottage. There are two people at the cottage right now, so I’ve got to be on hand for any questions. If something major happens, we have to direct them to the hospital and then I’ll have to meet them there and call Max in if need be. There are times we girls can deal with stuff without him, but we always call or text him first.”

  “Makes sense. And covers you all with a lawsuit.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “Don’t put me in a bad mood.”

  “Sorry,” he said, grinning. “So what types of plastic surgery emergencies are there?”

  “I’m not sure if you are joking with me or not, but that isn’t always why Max is called in. Car accidents and facial injuries. Any body injury that a simple surgeon can’t reconstruct. Max does it all, every part of the body. People have had accidents and chunks of their body have been cut off, Max will come in and repair the body so that divots aren’t there, if need be. Minimize scarring on faces for accidents. Not all, but if he’s in the hospital when something happens or a patient requests a plastic surgeon, he’s the only one in the area. Hand injuries. I can’t tell you how many severed nerves people get in their hands and Max specializes in that.”

  “So it’s not just cosmetic stuff that you do?”

  “Not at all.”

  “More emergency medicine like you said you always wanted to do?” he asked. She really had reached all the goals she’d had in her life. At least on a career level.

  “Yep. It’s a nice balance. The cosmetic stuff is fun. The patients are great and a blast to work with. The cancer patients are a little harder at times, and the emergency medicine mixed in gives me everything I never knew I would want.”

  “I’m happy for you,” he said, pulling her in for a hug.

  “What was that for?” she asked, leaning back and then making her way to the kitchen. “Man, it smells good in here. What did you make?”

  “The hug is because I’m thrilled you got everything you wanted.”

  “Not everything,” she said quietly.

  Another strike against him for bringing up the past and not even realizing it. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “I know,” she said. “And I’m the one that is sorry for putting a damper on things. Forget I said it. Did you make me lasagna?”

  “I did,” he said, grinning at her huge smile.

  “Okay, that is worth another hug and kiss.”

  They sat down and started to eat when her phone went off. She picked it up and answered a few questions to a patient, then set the phone down and they went back to their dinner.

  Before he could even clean up the plates, her phone was ringing again. This one took a bit longer to complete, but she finally hung up.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “One of the women in the cottage is uncomfortable. She isn’t running a fever, but she claims it’s high for her. I’ll check in on her again once the Motrin takes effect.”

  “Not a problem. I’ve got dessert too,” he said. He opened the fridge and pulled out a pan of brownies that he’d frosted with cream cheese frosting. He never thought he’d be a man to bake but found when he was determined to win someone over, he was going to go all out.

  “This is perfect. I don’t remember you ever going to this much effort before.”

  “It means more now.”

  She looked up, her eyes all soft and dewy-like. He wasn’t sure if there were tears there or not and was afraid he’d put his foot in his mouth.

  “I appreciate it. I know you’re putting a lot of effort into this. Maybe more than me and I feel guilty about that.”

  “Don’t feel guilty. I made some mistakes and I’ve got a lot to prove
.”

  “We both made mistakes, Matt. I told you that.”

  “But I handled it worse than you, and for that, I’ll never forgive myself.”

  She nodded and opened her mouth, only to have her phone go off again. “Crap. This is the hospital and probably not good.”

  She answered the phone while he eavesdropped on the conversation, not understanding a ton of what she was saying other than “What’s wrong with people? I’ll be there within fifteen minutes.”

  “You’ve got to leave? How about a brownie for the road?”

  “I’m sorry. I do and I doubt I’ll be back in an hour even. I’d love a brownie for the road.”

  He set about cutting it while she got her boots and jacket on. “So what do you have to go in for?”

  “Burn victim. Thought he was being cute trying to impress his date by downing a shot with fire on it, but he spilled half of it around his mouth. He’s blistering pretty bad. I’m going to get there and clean him up before Max can come in and do what he does best.”

  “So you’ll be in surgery too?”

  “Probably. It’ll be a long night so I doubt I’ll be talking to you again. Sorry about this. I’ll make it up to you this weekend.” She pulled him in for a kiss again, snatched the brownie out of his hand, and waved as she walked out the door.

  The young girl who always knew what she wanted out of life had turned into one hell of a strong woman that he had no choice but to admire and hope that, if anything, he could be half the person she was.

  Priorities Straight

  Dena felt horrible that she’d ruined Matt’s plans for the holiday, but it wasn’t as if she had much of a choice in the matter. Work came first and she wasn’t pushing that aside for anyone.

  Maybe that was why she was still single. No man had liked what happened tonight—the phone calls and then finally just up and leaving for the hospital. They felt she should be able to have more time off. They just didn’t get her job at all.

  All those plans she’d had in life? Work was the only thing that seemed to have come true for her. She wasn’t throwing it away.

  “Everything okay?”

  Dena looked up at Max in the operating room. The patient was sedated while Max was trying to assess the damage. “Yes, why do you ask?”

  “It’s Valentine’s Day and my guess is you had plans for the night and they were interrupted.”

  She laughed. “Yes and yes. But I’m sure everyone had plans tonight that got interrupted, yourself included.”

  “No plans here. Old married man with three kids,” he said, laughing.

  Max was far from an old married man. “You mean Quinn didn’t make you some nice meal?”

  “You know she did,” Max said. “But she does that every night.”

  “And I’m sure you got her something special. Probably got the kids things too?”

  He blushed and she laughed. Max was a great guy, a great father, and she was guessing an awesome husband. “I’m not stupid, am I? I want to continue to get those nice cooked meals. But yes, I got Quinn a new kitchen thing she wanted and a spa day.”

  Most women wouldn’t like kitchen appliances, but Quinn loved to cook, and since Max loved to eat, it worked for them. “I’m sure she appreciated both the same.”

  “She did. Lara was thrilled that I got her a gift certificate for a pedicure. She’s still a little tomboy, but Riley got her hooked on pedicures last summer.”

  “That’s what a good aunt does,” Dena said while the two of them continued to work on the patient.

  “Riley’s always been great with Lara. Even Davy.”

  “Just not so much with Jocelyn.”

  “She’s better now that Jocelyn is moving around and communicating a little bit. Babies and Riley don’t go so well together. It’s kind of funny watching them interact.”

  “I can’t believe how big Jocelyn is getting.”

  “Time flies, that’s for sure. Was Matt okay with you being called away tonight?”

  “It doesn’t matter if he wasn’t,” she said back, surprised Max was asking that.

  “I know how much you put your job first, Dena. I’m not asking for that reason. I’m asking from a personal standpoint, but you don’t have to answer me either.”

  She’d like to consider Max her friend as well as her boss. “He seemed okay with it. I think he didn’t quite understand everything I did and now he does.”

  “And that is important,” Max said.

  “It is.”

  “If it’s meant to be, it will be. I know I don’t get involved in the lives of you girls often, but I’d like to think you’re a bit of a little sister to me more than Amber and Rene.”

  “Really?” she asked, her smile filling her face. Max and Amber had the type of relationship where they busted on each other nonstop. Rene was just so innocent at times and Max took her under his wing. Dena kind of fell in the middle.

  “Yeah. You’re tough and strong, but have a vulnerable side you don’t want many to see. But it’s there and it’s okay if it comes out. And it’s okay if a man sees it. I don’t know the whole story about you and Matt, but I’ve picked up some pieces. All I can say is, if I messed up that badly, but came back to the place I said I hated and wasn’t going to leave, then you can bet your butt I’d have my priorities straight this time around.”

  She heard what Max said but didn’t respond. Max was right. Matt hated it here. So much so he left the way he had, the divide of twelve years widening between them. But he came back and he wasn’t leaving, he’d said.

  If what Matt was telling her was the truth—if Max was right and Matt had his priorities straight—then Dena had to decide how much of her heart she was ready to let go because it was teetering right now.

  The problem with something that teetered was it could lunge forward or fall back just as quickly and she wasn’t positive she was ready for either of those movements.

  ***

  By Saturday morning Matt thought he was dying. He’d spent the whole night throwing up, his body aching from the roots of his hair to his toenails, and he couldn’t stop shaking.

  What a shitty thing to happen when he still hadn’t had a chance to finish his Valentine Day date with Dena and tonight was supposed to be the night.

  He’d been feeling fine until about ten last night. Then wham, heat hit his stomach like a torch taking off and had him running for the bathroom.

  Maybe it’d pass if he just lay down and took a nap after the four Motrin he downed with water in the hopes they’d stay in his stomach long enough to work.

  He had to have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew there was banging at the door, and his name was being called. He must have unlocked the door at some point. Maybe when he was opening it to get fresh air. Or maybe that was a dream too.

  “Matt!”

  He rolled over and blinked his eyes open to see Dena standing over him. “What?”

  “My God, you look like shit. Damn, you’re burning up too.”

  “You should leave. I don’t want you to get sick.”

  “I’ve had a flu shot and I’m around sick people all the time at the hospital. When did this start?”

  “Last night.”

  “Tell me what is going on.”

  “I need to sleep. I’m sorry,” he said.

  “I get that. That’s fine. But let me know what is going on and when it started first.”

  “Last night out of nowhere I just started to throw up. Then the body aches started.”

  “Okay. I’m going to call you in a script of Tamiflu, then go get it. Give me your insurance cards and stuff and I’ll pick it up.”

  “In my wallet,” he said. He felt the couch shift when she moved and didn’t remember anything else after that.

  ***

  “Matt. Wake up,” Dena said.

  She’d seen some sick people before, but Matt looked like he’d been hit by a bus, then run over by all eighteen wheels of a tractor trailer.


  “What time is it?” he asked.

  “Time to take this medicine and you should start to feel better. Or at least get better faster,” she said.

  “I want to sleep,” he said. She’d never heard him whine before, but damn if it didn’t sound it now.

  “I’m sure you do and sleep is a good thing for you to have, but you need this and you need some fluids if you can keep them down.”

  He slowly sat up, his skin a pasty sweaty mess. But he took the bottle of Gatorade she’d handed him with the pill and made sure he swallowed.

  “What if it doesn’t stay down?”

  “That’s why you aren’t drinking anything else for at least thirty minutes. I’ve got some soup I’m going to warm up for you. If you don’t want to eat, the broth will be good for you. Any other symptoms? Sore throat?”

  “No. My body hurts as if someone took a sledgehammer to every muscle and joint. This is worse than after my accident.”

  “I’m sure it is since the pain is almost from the inside out.”

  “That’s not making me feel any better.”

  “Sorry. While I was gone I got a change of clothes. I’ll stay here with you tonight.”

  “You don’t need to,” he said.

  “I want to. I want to make sure the fever is gone and you are keeping things down. The flu can be dangerous. Especially for someone who had a lot of surgeries in the past year. Your immune system is probably compromised more than you realize.”

  “Are you telling me I’m weak?”

  She grinned. “Not necessarily.”

  “Close enough.” He scooted over and laid his head on her lap. “I’m too tired to argue so if you want to stay that’s fine, but this is not how I had planned this weekend to go.”

  “How did you plan on it?” she asked, her hand running through his hair. It was damp with sweat, but she didn’t mind.

  “With us both in bed and a lot of screaming going on.”

  “Pillow fight?” she asked. “We haven’t had a pillow fight in a long time.”