Second Time Around Page 6

  He paused, and a twinkle of moonlight caught in his eyes as his gaze met hers. “I’ve had seventeen of them. And amazingly enough, I limped just like you. As much as I’d love to stand here holding you, it isn’t getting us anywhere. Open that truck door for me so you can sit inside, and we can take care of one problem at a time. I’ll use the phone in the truck, since I assume you don’t have your cell phone in that itty-bitty bag of yours.”

  Emily looked sheepishly at him and opened the door. Her mouth gaping open. It’s over between us, isn’t it? He abandoned me once, he’d do it again.

  He watched her struggling for words. “Must be my charm, huh?” He laughed, but she couldn’t. That was exactly what it was. She couldn’t think with him holding her, helping her, taking care of her.

  He set her down with care and closed the door lightly this time. She watched as he walked past the hood of his hunter-green truck, thinking she was the one who took care of people. No one took care of her. Even when they’d been engaged, he’d never taken care of her. Maybe you never gave him the chance, said a voice inside her.

  Emily realized Kevin was talking, and turned her attention to the arrangements he was making for the locksmith to come to her address. He started the truck and turned on the heater.

  “You warm enough?” Kevin switched on the dome light, then lifted his arm to the back of the seat and reached for her hair clip. “May I?”

  An unwelcome chill went up her spine and she chastised herself. He only wanted to check her head. “I thought we agreed, you won’t play doctor, and I won’t play builder.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe next time, Doc. It’s either me, or the hospital staff. Take your choice.” Emily hesitantly turned her head so he could look for any swelling. He unfastened the clip and slipped his fingers through her hair.

  She pressed her eyes closed, refusing to let herself think of the old days. He carefully touched the perimeter of the goose egg and let out a little whistle. “That’s one nasty bump. Let’s check your eyes.”

  She couldn’t bear the thought of him looking into her eyes. It was simply too much. “I’m fine.”

  “Hmph,” he said, handing her the clip. “It’ll be a while ’til the locksmith can get here. Why don’t you recline the seat while I dig an ice pack from my first-aid kit. I’ll be right back.”

  She felt the truck bounce as he slammed the metal box behind the cab closed and climbed back in beside her. He broke the inner sack of the disposable ice bag and mixed the contents, then placed it behind her head.

  Suddenly there was an uncomfortable silence between them. Their few attempts at a conversation went dry. A few minutes later, the locksmith pulled into the driveway behind them. After confirming ownership by checking Emily’s identification, he opened the front door. Kevin paid the man and came back to the truck for Emily.

  Once inside the house, he deposited her on the sofa and closed the front door.

  “Thank you for the ride home, Kevin. I don’t want to delay you any longer.”

  Ignoring her, he loosened his tie and turned away, pacing the room. “I know you don’t want to believe me, but I’m really not the louse your mother made me out to be. Yet I’m not here tonight to start over, either.”

  She stared at his broad shoulders, at the curls of blond hair, at the tension in his jaw. Part of her wanted to cry at his admission, and another part wanted to laugh. Not as much had changed about Kevin as she’d originally thought. Cynicism might have overshadowed his sense of humor at times, but he was still as open as could be. “Thank you for clarifying that.” She didn’t know whether to be hurt or relieved. “However, you don’t need to stay. I can take care of myself—been doing it all my life.” She didn’t mean to sound harsh, but the words had an unavoidable bite to them.

  “I just want you to understand, there’s no room for dreams of family in my life. We both have other things we have to do now. Life goes on.”

  “Why don’t we just avoid seeing each other altogether?” she snapped. How dare he presume she was even remotely interested in a relationship with him again?

  “Come on, Emily. It may be over between us, but we can try at least to be civil, can’t we?” He straightened his back, and his eyes narrowed. “Once I’m sure you’re okay, I’ll be out of here. But until then, sit back, relax, and tell me where I could find your coffeepot. We’re going to need something to keep us awake.”

  “Don’t bother, Kevin. I’ll be fine.”

  Kevin glanced around the room, from the checkered sofa to the fresh flowers on the dining room table. Trying to close the door on his curiosity, he looked back to Emily, who was now falling asleep.

  “Open your eyes, Emmy.”

  They popped open.

  “What day is it?” he asked.

  She looked at him, annoyed. “Friday.”

  “How old are you?”

  She hesitated.

  “Come on, Emily. It’s not like we have any real secrets, is it?”

  “Thirty-two,” she admitted reluctantly, as if it would be news to him. He knew she’d be thirty-three in two months. Surely Emily didn’t think he’d forgotten her birthday.

  “Your sisters’ names?”

  “Lisa and Katarina. See, I passed the test.”

  “Your boyfriend’s name?”

  She laughed. “Nice try.”

  He smiled. “Never hurts to ask.” He looked into her green eyes, noting there was no difference between the pupils. He continued to examine them, while stealing a peek at the woman inside—the woman he had known and loved long ago. There was an impenetrable wall there, and he felt a shock of disappointment zap him back to reality.

  “You’re free to go home. I know what to watch for—headache, nausea, dilated pupils.”

  “Time will tell, won’t it?” He moved to a chair across the room. “Humor me, prove me wrong.”

  “It’s been a very long day, Kevin, and I’d like to go to bed—er, get some sleep.” She turned her body, dropped her feet from the sofa to the floor.

  “You know I can’t let you do that. Come on, Emmy, pretend eight years ago never happened, just for tonight. I’m not going anywhere.” He slipped his loafers off and set them neatly next to the chair. After an uncomfortable silence, Kevin leaned back and crossed one ankle over the opposite knee. “So what’s wrong with Laura?”

  He saw a sad and pained expression flash in her eyes. “I think that’s for them to say.” She ran her fingers through her hair, allowing it to veil her face.

  “Bryan said you’d explain. You have his blessing.”

  “She’s my patient. You’ll have to talk to them.”

  He’d never before seen her squirm like this.

  “I’m going to go change. Feel free to leave.” She stood, stumbling as she did so.

  He stood up and took hold of her arm, steadying her, but she shook loose. “What’s wrong, Emily?”

  She hobbled down the hall and slammed the door behind her. Kevin felt his own stomach tighten. He checked his watch, confirming his suspicion that it was too late to call Bryan. Storming after her, he felt the panic rise inside. “Emily. What is wrong with Laura?”

  On the other side of the door, he heard her crying. “Go home, Kevin. Just go!”

  He turned the knob and stepped inside the room. “You okay?”

  Her answer was clear as she blew her nose. Tears streamed from her eyes.

  “Come on, Emily, you’re scaring me. Is Laura sick?” Kevin took her by the shoulders and turned her toward him.

  “She’ll be fine.”

  “Tears and a diagnosis of ‘fine’ don’t go together, Doc. So what’s going on?”

  Emily pulled away. The delicate straps that formed the heart-shaped cutout on her dress tightened as she hugged her arms to her body. Her long fingers wrapped around the black velvet, and she dropped her chin to her chest, exposing the delicate sprinkling of freckles between her shoulder blades.

  He felt his strength waning and stepped behin
d her, tentatively placing his hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Emily. Of course you can’t break your professional confidence. I’m worried, is all. I don’t want to see Bryan hurt again.”

  “It’s not going to hurt him, Kevin. It’s a joyous occasion.”

  He heard the slight hitch in her voice when she said “joyous,” and realized what she was saying, or, more to the point, what she was feeling. What could he say without making things worse?

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She needed a friend, and, the way he figured it, so did he. So many times he’d tried to convince himself that he was doing the right thing in avoiding any serious relationship, but holding Emily like this, doubt reared its ugly head again.

  He and Emily had dreamed of a large family at one time. Now that was gone. It had to be.

  Kevin closed his eyes, wishing he, too, could shut out the pain. Watching his mother’s health fail after his father’s death, he had promised he’d never let anyone suffer the same way. And when his sister had lost her baby and home to a fire the next year, he knew he could never bear the pain of losing another love, and especially not a child. “Better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all” was a total fabrication.

  He held Emily in silence, leading her back to the living room. He sure wasn’t the person to comfort his ex-fiancée on this one. She didn’t want or need to hear his prescription for avoiding love.

  Where’s a joke when I need it?

  They sat in silence, Kevin holding Emily, realizing too late that he was brushing the hair off her face and that his lips were near hers. He gave her a chaste kiss, and backed away. “I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t meet his gaze. “Don’t be. Even a doctor needs a little TLC occasionally. Thanks. I really shouldn’t keep you any longer.”

  He felt his chest pounding; his mind could only think of escaping unscathed. Or was it already too late?

  Chapter Six

  Kevin placed the tire jack under the bumper of the sporty teal coupe and pumped the handle. An hour later, he had the tire repaired and put back on the car. Kevin slid into the seat, turned the key and revved the engine. “Not too shabby, Emily,” he whispered to himself, then returned to her house and knocked on the door.

  He was asking for trouble. That realization had occurred around three in the morning, as he peeked in to make sure Emily was doing okay. Once the knot on her head was nearly gone, he could have gone home. But he didn’t. Instead, he sprawled across the sofa and dozed off. Emily was still sleeping when he awoke and took the set of keys laying next to her purse on the table.

  Just this once, he promised himself. He would prove that Emily’s mother was wrong, that all men were not the same as Em’s father.

  Kevin would show her that they could put the past behind them without becoming involved. Show her that they could be friends. He’d do her a favor—just because. He’d hand her the keys, ask her for a ride back to get his truck, get on with his life, and let her get on with hers.

  It was too late for them. More to the point, it was too late for him. The price of love was too high. Life was simpler without it. Love was for dreamers. And his dreams had faded long ago.

  Emily opened the door, her pale face barely visible. “What do you want now?”

  He stepped closer and pushed the door slightly with his foot. “Emily, you look awful.”

  “Aren’t you charming this morning? What do you need, Kevin? I thought we agreed last night, our association will be strictly on a professional basis.” Her voice had lost its strength—even angry, it sounded as weak as she looked.

  “It will be, I promise. After you take me back to the clinic to get my truck.”

  “What’s it doing there?” Her words slurred.

  “I took your tire and had it repaired. Could you let me in?” He tried to stay calm. “I like your car,” he added, trying to distract her while he eased his foot into the gap in the door. It has spunk, just like you.

  Before she could answer, Emily collapsed, forcing his foot away and trapping him on the outside.

  “Emily!” he yelled. He turned the handle and pushed, moving her just enough to get in, then stepped over her.

  She was lying on the floor, a broken lamp next to her. He shoved the pieces aside and unplugged it before kneeling beside her.

  “Wake up, Emily. Come on, sweetie, wake up for me.” He placed his fingers in the hollow of her neck to check for a pulse. It was beating strong. Brushing her cheek, Kevin felt a draft as she exhaled. It had been almost ten hours since her fall, and so far the only possible sign of a concussion was loss of balance, but that could just as easily be blamed on her sprained ankle.

  “You’re scaring me, Emmy. Wake up. Please.” He mentally scrolled through the first-aid training he’d taken at the community college, then lifted Emily’s bare feet above the level of her heart. A minute later she opened her eyes, blinking them wildly as she drew in a deep breath.

  “What happened?”

  Kevin put her feet on the floor, relieved that she was okay. “You fainted, I guess. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He searched through the hall closet for a washcloth and soaked it with cold water, then returned. She remained still while he blotted her pale face with the cool cloth.

  When she started to get up, Kevin helped her move to a chair. Her damp hair smelled like apples and tumbled over her sweatshirt. Kevin knelt next to the chair and leaned his elbow on one knee. “I’d feel a lot better if you would have one of your colleagues check you out, Doc.”

  She studied his face intently, as if she’d forgotten how angry she had been with him just a few minutes ago. Her eyes opened wide, and she leaned forward. “Are my pupils dilated?”

  He blinked with surprise, then slowly smiled. “I thought we agreed, I don’t practice medicine.” Kevin rose to his feet, hoping that from a distance her full lips wouldn’t look quite so tempting.

  It didn’t work.

  “Just remember who broke the agreement first.” A smile tugged at her mouth as she tipped her head for him to examine her eyes.

  Forcing the temptation away, Kevin looked at her pupils, then shaded them from the light and quickly took his hand away. He was relieved to see them make the proper adjustment. “They look fine.”

  “I’m not nauseated,” she mumbled, as if reviewing a medical file. “No headache. Eyes are okay.” She shook her head slowly, rubbing her arm. “Probably just need to eat. I missed dinner, and maybe the shower was too hot. I should have cut it short, I guess.”

  “What does that have to do with it?”

  “Dilates the blood vessels and sends the blood rushing from the brain. I heard the doorbell and rushed in here. Your diagnosis was right—I just fainted. It’s no big deal.”

  He wasn’t convinced. People didn’t just keel over like that. Not without a reason. Must have been her fall.

  Emily released the footrest on the recliner and leaned back. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to make it look as if she was only fluffing it dry. The knot was gone. Her stomach growled. She had to get some breakfast.

  “You okay?”

  She looked admiringly at Kevin, then nodded. She had treated him horribly from the first time she saw him at the hospital, and yet he continued to be kind to her. “I’m just famished. Why don’t I make us something to eat, then I can take you to get your truck.”

  “Why don’t you rest while I make something.”

  Emily laughed. “I remember your cooking skills. I’ll do it.”

  “Let me help, anyway.” A mischievous glint in his eyes tempted her to put her anger aside.

  Emily couldn’t forget a time when she had really needed his support, and he’d let her down. Forgive seventy time seven. You aren’t asking much, are you God? Who was to say anything would be different now? He’d come right out and told her he wasn’t interested in starting over. Proclaimed that there was no room for dreams of a family. What happened, Kevin? You loved children.
Then again, he had once loved her, too. And that had changed.

  He stretched out his arm, offering a hand to pull her to her feet.

  “So, think you could handle the toast?” She took his hand, accepting his help—again. His grip was firm, yet tender and reassuring.

  The years of hard work were evident in the calluses and scars covering his hands. Their grasp lingered uncomfortably. She let go and headed for the kitchen, leaving the personal questions behind. She couldn’t afford to let herself entertain old dreams. Not with this man.

  Kevin made a pot of coffee and searched through the cupboard for dishes, while Emily dug through the freezer for a can of grape juice—his favorite, she realized as she set it on the counter.

  She’d gone through enough because of him, and survived despite his dumping her. They’d both moved on. It would be okay. She was happy. She had a job she loved. A home she bought all on her own. What else could she want?

  In silence, Emily pulled eggs and homemade wheat bread from the refrigerator. Kevin reached over the door and pulled out a bag of shredded cheese, bringing his face close to hers as she reached for the milk. “Do you mind?” His dimples betrayed him.

  The faint remnants of his musky aftershave scrambled her thoughts. Mind? Do I mind that you’ve found a way back into my life? That you’re right here in my kitchen at eight o’clock on a Saturday morning? That you’re flirting with me? She snatched the cheese and tossed it onto the white ceramic-tile counter, next to the eggs. You bet, I mind! Emily avoided his gaze, not sure she’d survive one more glance into his baby-blue eyes. How dare he flirt with her!

  Emily felt the scars of her broken heart being pulled and tugged by Kevin’s familiar voice, his blue eyes, his very being. Her entire soul ached. She’d tucked and stuffed her feelings for him so deep that she thought they’d never resurface. Apparently she was wrong. Go away, Kevin. You’re not supposed to have a place left in my heart!

  She broke the eggs into a bowl and stirred them with a fork, while Kevin placed the silverware on the table and mixed the juice. Her gaze darted to him and back to the stove repeatedly, as if she were trying to convince herself that she wasn’t hallucinating. Each glance served to remind her that Kevin was still very real.