THE STARLIGHT HILL COMPLETE COLLECTION: 1-8

by Bell, Heatherly

  She had goals and a direction. Unfortunately life had taken a left turn again while she’d been ready to turn right. But she’d roll, as she had so many times in the past. On the other hand, Jeff had a penchant to schedule everything down to the last detail, and all this couldn’t be sitting well with him.

  * * *

  This could get complicated. He wouldn’t mind complicated if it meant seeing Ivey naked, but that was a pipe dream. This wasn’t part of any plan he could have imagined. Ivey living with him, her bedroom inches away from his.

  A few minutes later, he’d changed and pulled a beer from the fridge when Ivey emerged from the bedroom wearing a tank top and sweatpants that read bootylicious. In case he’d forgotten, which he hadn’t.

  They simply stared at each other for a minute, and then they both spoke at once.

  “Are you going to bed?”

  “I’m going to watch some TV.” Ivey headed towards the set and turned it on to the news.

  Not a good idea. “Maybe not the news.”

  “There’s nothing else on, and I might hear something about what happened tonight.”

  “Do you really want to?”

  “Of course. I want to make sure they got the story straight. My aunt had nothing to do with this.”

  Curious, he waited to hear as well, and when they listened to a story about a boy who had figured out a way to recycle straws, Jeff had convinced himself that they’d skip the story altogether.

  But no such luck.

  “In other local news tonight, a Wall Street financial investor’s home has been seized in an FBI sting.”

  “A sting?” Ivey cried out. “There was no sting.”

  They showed film of the newscaster at the scene, reporting on the few known details. Nothing Jeff and Ivey didn’t already know. Then back to the talking heads, who seemed amused. Slow news day and all.

  “I thought all they had in Starlight Hill were vineyards.” The male anchor preened.

  “Sounds like they’ve got crooks too. But even those are high-class.” A light elbow to her co-anchor. A little chuckle.

  Next, a large photo of Ben Cartwright and Lucy at their wedding. “Here’s a photo of the couple in happier days. You know, Lucy Cartwright is a local who won the California lotto several years ago. It goes to show you, it’s never enough.” The male anchor shook his head sadly. This, obviously, was the news commentary portion of the show.

  “For some people, it never is. But justice prevails, and tonight maybe a few unlucky investors are a little closer to getting back their life savings. Well, good night and sleep tight, folks.” The female anchor winked.

  Jeff turned toward Ivey, who hadn’t said a word. She stared at the screen, mouth gaping. “Did you hear that? They lumped them together, showed their wedding picture for crying out loud, and made it sound like my aunt was involved.”

  He rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. “No they didn’t. And no one will believe that.”

  “I’m going to call the station. This is irresponsible journalism. They might as well call it the evening rumors.”

  “You want to let it go. Let it die out. You’ll only call more attention to the situation.”

  “I don’t want people to think badly of Aunt Lucy. I know she’s been married four times, and she probably has more fun than any fifty-eight year old woman should, but she’s been good to me. And she’s been good to the hospital too. That’s something nobody knows. She’s the women’s center’s main benefactor.”

  That got his attention. When he’d pressed, he’d been told that it was one of the benefactors who wanted him on the subcommittee. No explanation. Could that have been Lucy? “No kidding.”

  Ivey froze, then turned from him and snapped the TV off. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “She’s the one that wanted me on the subcommittee, isn’t she?” He would have a little fun with this tonight. And maybe someday personally thank Aunt Lucy, since he’d had more excitement lately than in the past year. “Maybe to get us back together.”

  “Why would you say that? My God, the ego on you! Are all doctors like this? Don’t answer that. I happen to know they are.”

  She tried to get by him, but he grabbed her wrist. “Tell the truth. It will only hurt a little. It’s like tearing off a band aid.”

  “I’ve said enough.”

  And maybe she had, because he had his answer. Aunt Lucy had played matchmaker, because somehow even she knew that they weren’t done with each other. “Thank her for me.”

  “I will not.”

  “Then I’ll thank her.” He let his fingers trail up her arm and then back down again.

  “I can’t stop you.” Her eyes didn’t betray a single emotion, but he did feel her arm shiver.

  Then his pager went off, because that thing had the timing of a metronome on crack. Reluctantly, he ended the standoff and went to find his pager on the counter where he’d unloaded it.

  He recognized the ER’s number, and called them back on his cell phone. “Dr. Garner. You paged?”

  “It’s Nancy. I thought I’d let you know that Frank Sullivan came in and he was taken up to cardiology. Apparently there’s something abnormal on the EKG. I know how fond you are of him, so I wanted to let you know.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be right over.” He gathered his wallet, his keys.

  “Don’t you dare. You’ve already logged too many hours, and the board will have our hide if they hear about it. I shouldn’t have called you. Donna was right. And you know how I hate it when she’s right. Stay where you are, Doctor, or I’ll be forced to take drastic measures.”

  He let out a breath. With all the extra shifts he’d pulled, he needed the break. But this was Frank. How many EKGs had he ordered, all perfectly normal? What had he missed?

  “Fine. I’ll drop by to see him tomorrow.” He hung up the phone.

  “Is something wrong?” Ivey asked from the couch. She had a book in her hands now, something that looked like a romance novel.

  “Nothing,” he lied. Something was wrong with Frank, and he’d missed it. Maybe because he’d been too tired, working too hard. Thinking too much about his own needs and whether the ER was where he wanted to land.

  “You care about your patients, don’t you?” This was said kindly, and took him by surprise.

  “Does that surprise you?”

  She smiled a little. “I wasn’t sure how you’d do with patients. I’ve always known how smart you were, but not every doctor has the compassionate side of them fully engaged.”

  “I think they wind up being radiologists.”

  Ivey laughed. “We’re not so different, you and me.”

  “Uh huh.” Damn, he was tired. Not too tired to flirt with Ivey, but too tired to talk about what a great doctor he was. Or wasn’t. The jury was still out. And he had an early call tomorrow morning. He took one last longing look at Ivey and made a snap decision. “Good night. I’m going to bed.”

  With any luck, he’d actually sleep.

  9

  Ivey blinked awake as the pale moonlight spilled from the overhead skylight. She jerked up, forgetting where she was for a moment. She’d fallen asleep on Jeff’s couch. Her last memory was of fighting off sleep so she could read a few more pages. She’d almost finished the novel, and soon Melody and Bobby would be together again after all the trouble. They were meant to be.

  She stretched and yawned. The digital clock on the kitchen microwave read four in the morning when she staggered towards her bedroom, eyes bleary and half-mast.

  Once in her dark room, she fumbled for the bed and pushed back the covers. The bed seemed bigger than it had looked earlier. She snuggled into it, grateful for another few hours of sleep before morning.

  "This is an interesting way of flirting,” Jeff said from the other side of the bed.

  What the hell?

  “What are you doing in here?" Ivey rolled off the side of the bed and fell in a heap on the floor. "Oh, ow." This
floor was so much harder than it looked.

  "Are you all right?" He leaned over the side of the bed, shirtless. And who knew what else “less.” In all their time together, she’d never known him to sleep in anything but a pair of boxers if he felt cold.

  Ivey held up her hand. "No! I mean yes, I'm fine, and stay there! Please don't get out of bed."

  But of course he hopped out of bed, flipped on the light and was next to her in seconds. “Did you hit your head? And why are you squeezing your eyes shut?”

  I won’t look, I won’t look, I won’t look. “I’m okay, you ninny.”

  “If you’re okay, then open your eyes and look at me.”

  Please let him have some clothes on. She slowly opened one eye and then the other to find Jeff crouched next to her wearing a pair of dark boxer briefs. Okay, not so naked. But still. “I’m looking at you.”

  He gazed in her eyes intently—as if he’d lost his keys in there. “Where does it hurt?”

  “Oh no, I’m not telling you that.” He’d completely unnerved her with his penetrating eyes and his stupid sexy boxers.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Let’s put it this way: you’re not touching where it hurts. Got it?” Her lower back had taken the worst of it, right next to her bottom.

  “I’m getting you an ice pack.” He was out the door before she could protest.

  “Stop overreacting.” She slowly rose from the cold hardwood floor and rubbed her butt. He had to stop behaving like a doctor and understand she could take care of herself. Nurse and all.

  She made her way to the door only to find him blocking it, holding the ice pack in one hand. "But how did you manage to get the wrong room, Little Face?" He gave her a lazy grin as he leaned against the door frame. Her breath hitched when she heard his term of endearment. No one had ever called her Little Face before he did, or since.

  "I was half asleep when I woke up on the couch. These two doors look identical. It was an easy mistake. And are you going to give me that ice pack?" She tried to snatch it out of his hands, but he was too quick for her and pulled it out of her reach.

  “Maybe this is really where you want to be." He moved closer until he was only inches away, and she swore she could smell the minty flavor of his toothpaste.

  She couldn’t help but tremble a little bit, because he was so close, and dear Lord he was so gorgeous. The dimple on his chin. Words. Words would be good right now. “The—ice pack?”

  “Yep,” he said, but rather than put it in her outstretched hand, he reached behind her and held it right where it hurt. As if someone had drawn him a map of the area.

  She jumped when his hand hovered near her behind. Exactly where he had no right to be, MD or not.

  “Cold?” he asked.

  But also pretty hot, if I’m being honest. She put on her best smile through gritted teeth. “Take your hand off my ass.”

  “Sure.” He handed her the ice pack. “I don't recall inviting you in here, but you might as well stay."

  "I might, except that I'm not." She shoved past him and closed the door quickly, unwilling to hear one more word out of his sexy mouth.

  She'd never make this mistake again, dark hallway or not. Maybe she'd mark her bedroom door with a glow-in-the-dark sticker to be on the safe side.

  She didn't know what upset her most, the fact that he'd suggested she'd done this on purpose, or the frightening reality that for one moment she wanted to stay exactly where she was and find out if those abs were as rock hard as they looked.

  No, the only way this arrangement was going to work, the only way her heart could handle this, was if they both kept their hands off each other. And if tonight was any indication, it would be a challenge.

  The next morning Ivey blinked awake and pulled the covers over her head. Under the covers she’d stay until she could be certain he’d left. Wandering into his bedroom was not the way she’d planned her first night as his roommate.

  One way or another, he’d get the message that they couldn’t do a round two of Jeff and Ivey. A second breakup and there might not be enough pink and blue ribbons in the state. Anyway, one kiss and he’d see inside her. And he wouldn’t like what he found.

  When in the silence of the morning she heard a lone dog barking in the distance, Ivey tiptoed out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. Sharing a bathroom was another challenge she hadn't thought all the way through.

  She would have to remind herself to check the toilet seat on a regular basis, because falling in during the night would hurt almost as much as falling onto the hardwood floor. She rubbed her lower back. Despite the ice pack, it still felt sore and bruised. Much like her pride.

  The bathroom was organized better than she would have thought for two guys. And it was clean. The medicine cabinet had two empty rows—he'd made room for her. Well. This could work if he continued to be so accommodating.

  His thin row contained only deodorant, a razor, toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, and a small almost-full bottle of men’s cologne. No hair gel for his glorious hair. No hair spray. So in other words, it still took no effort to look that good. Ivey frowned as she pulled out her toiletries from the bag she’d left in the bathroom yesterday—hair mousse and gel, hair spray, make-up remover, body spray, razors, special teeth-whitening toothpaste, deodorant, and make-up. Before long her rows were full and she squeezed a few more items onto his row, hoping he wouldn’t notice since he obviously didn’t need the room.

  After her shower Ivey towel dried her hair. She wiped the steam from the mirror, viewing the face of a determined woman. A woman who had plans, a career, a direction. So what if she’d been alone for the past few years?

  She would be all right, as long as she could stop thinking about him. Last night had been humiliating enough, but thank heaven dreams were private. In her dreams she'd stayed in that bed with him and enjoyed every part of his hard body. Even now, her naked breasts quivered at the memory.

  Ivey pointed to her reflection in the mirror. “Stop it.”

  She dressed and looked through the bare kitchen cupboards. There were a few cans of soup and not a single vegetable in the crisper. A nearly empty gallon of milk, and some kind of science experiment that might have been cheese at one time. Ivey started a grocery list.

  The man was definitely household challenged. Although he wasn’t challenged in any other way. Highly intelligent, educated, respectful, kind, with bedroom eyes, and thick brown hair that she wanted to run her fingers through. That any woman in her right mind would want to run her fingers through. Broad shoulders, strong arms, and large hands that knew how to hold a woman. She did remember that. Abs to die for, she’d seen those last night. Ivey sighed, and then sucked in a breath when she took a closer look at her grocery list. She’d unconsciously written down every one of Jeff’s attributes right along with the food items. She tore up the list and threw it in the trash.

  What are you doing, Ivey? Fantasizing about her ex, that’s what. She had to remember that he’d left her because she wanted too much from him. And he hadn’t been willing to give it. Didn’t want to marry her. Even if he didn’t know she’d been pregnant, the fact was he’d never changed his mind. Never called and said he was sorry. Never told her he regretted their fight. Not a single phone call, text, or email. Maybe it was harder for her, because she’d carried a part of him, and that had made it impossible to ever forget him.

  But sometimes Ivey wondered if she were silently punishing him for something he didn’t know. She couldn’t hold him responsible for the things he didn’t realize had happened, but some small and unreasonable part of her wanted to believe that somehow he should have known.

  Her cell phone rang. Ivey recognized Marissa’s caller ID and answered with a smile. “Have you reconsidered?”

  “I’d like to talk to you about that. In person. Could we meet, maybe for breakfast?” Marissa sounded perky and excited. This had to be good news.

  Ivey knew exactly the place. Sooner or later
she’d have to face everyone after last night’s broadcast. No better place better than Mama’s to find out if she and Aunt Lucy were still welcome in town.

  Mama’s was bustling when Ivey eased into a booth at the diner, prepared for the worst. Em barely glanced at her, busy with the morning rush.

  Ophelia Lyndstrom and Kevin Morrison were sitting in a booth on the other side of the restaurant, and as they were leaving, they veered in Ivey’s direction.

  She braced for impact.

  “We want you to know none of us believes your Aunt Lucy had anything to do with that ugly matter,” Kevin said as he took out his wallet.

  “Not for a minute.” Ophelia patted Ivey’s hand.

  “Thanks. Because she didn’t. She’s pretty upset about the whole thing.” Over the phone from Italy, Aunt Lucy had some choice words for Ben Cartwright, the kind Ivey would rather not repeat in front of her elders.

  “I imagine she is. The poor dear. You think you know someone.”

  They were being so nice it was a little strange. Where was the outrage? Aunt Lucy did know how to pick them, didn’t she? Even Ivey would have to agree with that.

  Kevin put his business card down on the table and slid it across to Ivey. “If you wouldn’t mind, dear, give my card to your aunt. We need new advisors to the city planning commission, and I always value the opinions of reasonable people.”

  And Aunt Lucy sounded reasonable?

  Ophelia nodded. “We should go. Have a good day, Ivey.”

  “You’ll give her my card?” Kevin coughed.

  “Sure.” Ivey put it in her purse, wondering what city coffer or new project needed funding now. Everyone in town knew about Lucy’s windfall, and had already hit her up countless of times for donations, investments or loans.

  Em popped by to take Ivey’s order. “What was that about?”

  “I don’t know, but I think someone needs money. At least they realize Aunt Lucy had nothing to do with her ex-husband’s fraud.”

  “No one thinks your aunt had anything to do with that swindle. It’s always the men who cheat. Always the men.”