Weekend Fling with the Surgeon

by Janice Lynn

  Her lips formed an O, then she laughed but kept going through the steps as instructed by the woman moving around the dance floor, giving pointers.

  When Ryder bumped into McKenzie a third time, he shrugged as if he didn’t know how it had happened.

  “Hey, are you doing that on purpose?” She gave a suspicious look, but her eyes were dancing with delight.

  Doing his best to maintain a facade of innocence, he asked, “Would I do that?”

  Keeping in step, she arched a brow. “Two weeks ago, I’d have said no. That you’d have done anything to move away from me rather than closer. Now...”

  She was right. He had avoided her. Because she’d been seriously involved with another man and when he was around her, he’d wanted to toss aside his common sense and make her his. He might have even been successful, but he didn’t go after women who had boyfriends. Or women who were on the rebound from a man they’d planned to marry.

  He’d learned that lesson with Anna and wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

  His gaze met McKenzie’s. She looked at him as if she wanted to strip his clothes off and explore every inch of him.

  Was it for show because her friends and family were there?

  “Now?” he prompted, wanting to hear what she had to say, to see if she’d flirt back, even if only a little, as he rocked his hips forward and held, then shifted to the left, then rocked to the right, keeping time with the music.

  “Now?” Her eyes twinkled. “I’m sure you would.”

  He laughed. “You might be right.”

  “Might be?” Her gaze was still locked with his.

  “You sure you’re a beginner?” Reva called from the opposite side of McKenzie, interrupting their banter. “Because you’re picking that up awfully fast.”

  “Hello?” McKenzie play scowled at her cousin. “Did you not just see him almost knock me down half a dozen times?”

  Smiling, Reva shook her head and called, “I must have missed that.”

  Ryder winked conspiratorially at the bride-to-be who was enjoying herself despite the medical drama at her rehearsal dinner. Probably because her husband’s uncle was expected to fully recover and might even be released from the hospital the following day so long as nothing unexpected happened between now and then.

  “Okay, now, ladies and gentlemen,” the dance instructor said. “From the beginning. Let’s go.”

  The music started over and they went through the motions to the decades-old hit about an achy broken heart. They danced and Ryder kept his body in his dance space, rather than invading McKenzie’s, although the temptation to bump her just for another touch was strong.

  When the song ended, he was glad he had stayed focused on the dance, because, eyes sparkling, mouth curved in a big smile, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug and squeezed.

  “That was amazing. You were amazing!”

  Her arms around him was amazing. So amazing Ryder felt his resolve melting. In its place was happiness that he was relaxed, away from work, dancing with a beautiful woman who was flirting with him as if she planned other dances, more primal, in her mind.

  “Never say you can’t line dance again,” she warned.

  “Pretty sure being able to follow step-by-step instructions doesn’t qualify me to say that I can line dance,” he pointed out, wondering what she’d say if he just held her in the hug forever?

  Her body felt that good.

  Like he wanted to hold her body against his for a very long time. Ryder fought to keep his lower half from reacting in an embarrassing way.

  Around them, everyone clapped and thanked the instructor. Eyes locked, he and McKenzie parted and did the same.

  The band took the stage again and launched into a slow song. Next to them, Jeremy pulled Reva to him.

  McKenzie’s gaze lowered and she started walking off the dance floor.

  “I don’t think so,” Ryder said, reaching for her hand even as he acknowledged slow dancing with her would do nothing to stop the erection threatening to make itself present. “If I had to line dance then you don’t get to run away when I get an opportunity to show off that I don’t really have two left feet despite recent evidence to the contrary.”

  “You’re sure?” she asked, looking as if she wanted to stay, but was hesitant, in case he didn’t really want to slow dance and she didn’t want to force him to stay.

  He wanted to hold McKenzie in his arms.

  Any excuse would do.

  “Positive.” He pulled her to him and put his hands at her lower back, holding her close as they began to sway to the country love ballad.

  McKenzie’s head rested just beneath his chin as they moved in perfect harmony to the song Ryder had never heard before but would never hear again without thinking of McKenzie and this moment.

  Without remembering her light flowery smell and warm body next to his wreaking all kinds of havoc with his internal circuitry.

  Holding her like this had him wondering what it would have been like had McKenzie been single when he’d arrived in Seattle. What if Paul had never been in the picture? What if he’d never had to tamp down the way she burned his insides and instead could have let her set him on fire over and over.

  Her fingers toyed with the hair at his nape. “Thank you, Ryder.”

  “For not stepping on your toes?” Her fingers in his hair was making his feet happy enough to walk on air.

  “That,” she agreed, brushing her thumb slowly across the back of his neck, “and everything else. For coming with me this weekend, for being so great at the rehearsal dinner, for saving Jeremy’s uncle’s life.”

  “That was a partnered effort,” he reminded her, pressing his palm into the curve of her lower back to keep her close. Her body next to his felt good. “You played just as big a role in saving his life as I did.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t think so. You were wonderful. Jeremy’s family all think you’re a hero. My family, too. Which is great, only...”

  “Only?” he prompted.

  Her gaze lifted to his and she searched his eyes, making him wonder just how much of his thoughts she’d read, especially when she answered his question.

  “None of it is real.”

  * * *

  They weren’t real, McKenzie reminded herself for the dozenth time in the past five minutes.

  Literally, she kept reminding herself, because it was easy to forget they were pretending when Ryder smiled at her with a certain look in his eyes.

  Ryder wasn’t her boyfriend.

  Despite her reminder that had been for herself as much as for Ryder, he was smiling.

  Why wouldn’t he be? It didn’t matter to him that they weren’t real, that the sexual tension building between them on the dance floor was a byproduct of proximity, pretense and young, healthy bodies rather than something more.

  Her family all bought that they were a real couple.

  Only rather than being happy at how well her plan was working, she laid her head back against his shoulder and moved to the music with him in slow, rhythmic movements and fought sighing.

  Because they were doing such a good job pretending that they were convincing her, too.

  She liked how he held her, firmly against him, but not too tightly.

  Being in Ryder’s arms, having him hold her next to him, feeling his warm breath against the top of her head, was an experience unlike anything she recalled.

  She couldn’t remember having her ear pressed against Paul’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, or perhaps feeling it against her cheek more than actually hearing the resounding lub-dub over the twangy love song, and being so aware of each beat. Of being aware of the strength of the chest she leaned against. Of being so in sync with that rhythm and becoming mesmerized by the tune it played.

  Of being so aware of the spicy male sce
nt surrounding her and flashing her back to when he’d stepped into her bedroom fresh from his shower that morning and filling the room with him—his scent, his presence.

  Of how her thighs had clenched, her heart had quickened, her throat had tightened.

  The song ended and another started, its beat a little faster than the previous song. She and Ryder didn’t pull apart, just kept moving to the music.

  She closed her eyes.

  This feels right.

  Only it was make-believe.

  Ryder’s lips brushed against the top of her head, softly, but she’d definitely felt the caress. Opening her eyes, she caught Reva and Jeremy watching them. Smiling big, her cousin gave a thumbs-up sign.

  Down the road, many years from now, she’d tell Reva the truth. Her cousin would understand why she’d wanted Ryder with her. No one wanted to come home for a wedding single, dejected and at her meddling family’s mercy.

  She might even admit to the green tinging her blood at how Reva’s life was so wonderful and to the guilt she felt at her jealousy.

  Glancing over at where Jeremy and Reva were hugged up on the dance floor still, her cousin laughing at something he’d said, McKenzie’s chest squeezed. That’s what she wanted. Someone to love her and laugh with her and want to spend their life with her.

  Was that such an impossible want?

  “What are you thinking?”

  She lifted her head from Ryder’s strong chest to look at him. “Nothing, why?”

  “You got tense. Everything okay?”

  The man was too observant.

  Still, McKenzie had no real regrets on bringing Ryder with her. To have come alone would have thrown an ugly wrench into McKenzie’s entire visit.

  Because of him, this weekend had been fun, exciting and full of self-discovery.

  “Just thinking how nice this is, spending unpressured time with my family, getting to know you, dancing with you,” she admitted.

  “It is nice, but don’t forget none of this is real.”

  No chance of that happening.

  “It would be nice if it were, though.”

  He stiffened against her and she realized they’d stopped dancing, were standing close, and to the casual observer probably just looked to be talking.

  Obviously, her last comment had raised his hackles.

  Embarrassed that she’d let herself get caught up in the heated emotions being with him caused, she forced a smile in his general direction.

  No worries, Ryder. I know this is only pretense to you.

  That’s all it had been to her, too. Initially.

  Now, she wasn’t so sure, which was obviously making him uncomfortable.

  She’d save him from having to stress that they weren’t real and never would be.

  “Now, no more serious talk. Let’s have some fun.”

  * * *

  Just after eleven Ryder and McKenzie were back at her mother’s house. Her cousin Jeff and his family had already called it a night, as had her mother. All the lights were off except the front porch and a couple of night lights.

  Mark was still out with the others, saying not to wait up on him as he’d likely find more comfortable sleeping arrangements than the sofa.

  Ryder let McKenzie use the bathroom first, wandering around her childhood room to check out the boy band posters adorning her walls. He could just imagine her and Reva blasting the music and singing along at the top of their lungs.

  Seeing how close they were, he wondered again why had she chosen to move so far away from her family?

  With him, his parents were super successful single children of small families and, with Chrissy’s death, he was an only child. There were no big gatherings at holidays or chaotic shared bathrooms. Next to McKenzie’s family, his home life seemed quite dull.

  He picked up a framed photo off her dresser. McKenzie held a volleyball and Reva was in a cheerleader outfit. They were hugged up like the best of friends, much as they’d been embracing on the dance floor.

  When the connecting bathroom door opened, McKenzie had changed into shorts that were barely visible beneath an oversized T-shirt.

  His breath caught at the sight of her shapely legs, brushed-out long hair and freshly washed face. She was beautiful.

  Brilliant and beautiful.

  Sexy as hell.

  “Your turn,” she offered, unaware of the lust she was unleashing in his body while she hung her dress back onto a hanger in her closet. When she turned, realized he’d been looking at the photo of her and Reva, something flashed in her eyes that struck him as odd.

  Then realization hit.

  He felt such a fool. How had it taken him so long to figure out the truth?

  Then again, he’d been blinded by his own attraction to McKenzie, blinded by her recent breakup with Paul.

  Paul had been a rebound relationship.

  Ryder set the photo frame back on the dresser. “I like to think I’m pretty astute, but I completely missed what was going on here.”

  “Oh?” Her gaze lifted to his much as a doe’s caught in a headlight.

  “I assumed it was something that had happened between you and your family that had you moving to Seattle, but then you all seemed so close that I’d decided I was wrong.”

  “I never said anything happened to cause me to move to Seattle other than that I fell in love with the city,” she reminded him, placing her fists on her hips as she regarded him.

  “But,” he continued as if she hadn’t said anything, “it was you and Reva who had a falling out.”

  “You’re crazy,” she accused, but looked away as she busied herself straightening the clothes in her closet. “My cousin and I did not have a falling out.”

  “I knew you were stressed about coming home, but I got that a wedding is a little more pressure to not be single. Now, it all makes sense. What happened between you and your cousin?”

  “Nothing happened.”

  He wanted her to tell him the truth, rather than him having to pry it from her.

  Frustrated, he said, “Something happened. Otherwise I don’t think you’d have moved quite so far.”

  McKenzie didn’t meet his eyes. “You’re drawing wrong conclusions, Ryder.”

  “Am I?” His brow lifted, then he shook his head. “I don’t think so, but I’ll let you think you’re deceiving me the way you’re deceiving yourself if you really believe that.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You barely know me, haven’t even been in this house twenty-four hours. So, don’t you go psychoanalyzing me, Ryder.”

  “Then you and Jeremy were never a thing? Because my guess is he’s what came between you and your cousin.”

  McKenzie burst out laughing. “Jeremy and I were never a thing. I knew him in school, of course, but he, and every other guy, was crazy about Reva. How could they not be? She’s wonderful.”

  “Then who came between you?”

  “No one,” she repeated. “I—I was involved with someone during my senior year of high school and into college, but Reva never dated him.”

  “Did she want to?”

  “Not to my knowledge. Clay didn’t break up with me because of Reva, Ryder. He left me to take a residency in Boston and I took one in Seattle. End of story.”

  “How long were you together?”

  “What does that matter?” She took a deep breath. “Seven years.”

  All this time he’d thought it was Paul who was his greatest competition, Paul who he had to worry about being a rebound guy from. Was it actually someone he’d never heard her mention?

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but Clay and I dated for seven years. We planned to both go to Seattle.” She gave a wry snort. “I didn’t even know he’d applied for a residency in Boston. My family worried about me going so far away when I was up
set about the breakup and wouldn’t know a soul. They didn’t understand that going to Seattle rescued me from their pity.”

  “Loving you and wanting to help you through a breakup isn’t the same thing as pity.”

  “How would you know, Ryder? I seriously doubt that anyone pities you. Do you want to know what my biggest issue is since coming home? That I’m freaking jealous of my cousin’s happiness. Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad she’s marrying Jeremy, but what is wrong with me that I can’t have a good relationship, too?”

  She was standing close to him, glaring up at him with eyes that flashed with anger and hurt.

  He didn’t want to fight with her and searched for the right words to answer her questions.

  Her questions that cut to his very core.

  But she wasn’t finished, and perhaps hadn’t even wanted answers to her questions, but was just shooting words out at him like emotional arrows meant to pierce deep.

  “Good for you on figuring out that not only was I dumped by Paul, but also by a man I’d given seven years of my life to thinking we’d someday marry, too.” Another self-deriding snort flared from her nostrils. “Obviously, I’m very dumpable.”

  “You’re not very dumpable.”

  “Right.” Seeming to deflate, she gestured toward the bathroom. “Don’t you need to change before bed?”

  “You mean floor?”

  Her gaze narrowed. “I’ll gladly take the floor.”

  “No.” He regretted his stupid quip. “I don’t want you taking the floor.”

  She didn’t answer, just stood waiting for him to go to the bathroom with her chin lifted.

  Which gutted him.

  What he wanted more than anything was to wrap his arms around McKenzie and wipe the exhausted, dejected look off her face.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Her chin hiked up a few more notches. “I don’t want or need your pity. I’m fine.”

  Gathering his pajama pants, Ryder crossed the room to the bathroom door, paused a moment as he racked his brain for something to defuse the tension between them.