Here And Now (American Valor 2) Page 2

  Determined to be a better girlfriend, she kept the house spotless, made dinner every night even if he wasn’t there to eat it, and she certainly didn’t nag him about their future. She’d almost convinced herself things were going well between them until she found a wadded-up receipt in the pocket of his jeans. When confronted with the piece of paper from a nearby casino itemizing dinner for two, he tried to pass it off as a night out with his cousin.

  But knowing his cousin like she did, she was damn sure that redneck wouldn’t be caught dead drinking anything but Jack Daniel’s or Jim Beam, much less some pink, fruity girlie drink that had probably been garnished with a tiny umbrella.

  As she blew her hair dry, Rachel made a mental list in her head of things she needed to do. First things first, find a place to live. Which wasn’t as easy as it sounded. Just today, she’d tried to adjust her body clock for the night shift and quickly learned apartment living wasn’t conducive to a daytime sleep schedule. People tromping up the stairs. People tromping down the stairs. People tromping across the floor overhead.

  Obviously her apartment building was home to a herd of elephants.

  What she’d really like was a house. No shared walls with noisy neighbors. A little breathing room. Maybe a small fenced yard so she could get a dog. A really big, scary one.

  Unfortunately, if she had to guess, most of the rental properties in her price range would already have been snapped up by college students. If the new place wanted first and last month’s rent, plus a deposit, she’d be living on peanut butter and jelly for the next month. Throw in the utility deposits and it might be only bread and water for two months.

  And so very worth it.

  As the sun set, she headed out the door and hopped into the pickup truck that once belonged to her younger brother, Ethan. He’d bought it brand-new just after joining the army, and when he died he left it, along with everything else of his, to her. Much to the disappointment of their parents. So instead of using his death benefits to pay off the truck, she gave the money, along with her old car, to her financially strapped parents and went about paying for Ethan’s truck herself.

  More than six years later, it was just as he’d left it. An army decal stuck on the back window. His favorite CDs in a holder strapped to the sun visor. The tassel from his graduation cap hanging from the rearview mirror.

  About every three months she’d tell herself she’d take it all down the next time she cleaned it out. But when the time came, she couldn’t do it.

  Halfway to the hospital, the cell phone rang where it sat in its hands-free holder. She pressed the speaker button and said hello.

  “There’s nothing to eat,” Curtis said immediately.

  No “Hi” or “How you doin’?” No simple courtesies at all. It was all about him. And for all she cared, Curtis could starve. The days of fixing him dinner and waiting on him hand and foot were over.

  “Then go to the store. I’m on my way to work.”

  Even without seeing him, without him saying a word, she could picture him standing in front of the refrigerator, resting one arm on top of the door as he stared inside, and waiting for something to magically appear.

  “What am I supposed to do about dinner?”

  “You’re a big boy. You’ll figure it out. I gotta go.” Rachel quickly disconnected the call as Curtis swore and sputtered on the other end.

  She really wanted to tell him to have little Miss Blue Panties make his dinner, but shooting off her mouth would only hurt her in the end. If she had a place to crash temporarily, she would’ve said it. But Curtis was just vindictive enough he’d destroy her stuff before she’d have a chance to retrieve it.

  Nope. She needed to play it cool. Avoid him at all costs and find a new place to live ASAP. Which also meant she needed to find someone to help her move out in the middle of the day when Curtis wouldn’t be home.

  The idea of a covert moving-day operation made her laugh. What she wouldn’t give to see the look on his face when he returned home to find her stuff gone.

  With only seven minutes until her shift began, Rachel whipped into the employee parking lot. And as her luck would have it, the first row was completely full. As was the second and third. Through the half light, she saw a car on the next aisle backing out and hurried to claim the spot. Without coming to a complete stop at the end of the aisle, she made a quick right and saw something flash in her headlights just before the moment of impact.

  LUCKY GINGERLY PUSHED himself up to sit with one hand, instantly feeling the throb and burn of a good old-fashioned case of road rash. With his feet tangled with the frame of his bike and the cleats from one pedal digging into his calf, it took several seconds to extricate himself from the wreckage.

  “Oh, my God,” he heard a woman say as she came around the front of the truck and fell to her knees beside him. Although it was hard to make out her features looking into the glare of the headlights, he could see she pulled a cell phone from her pocket. “Don’t move. Just give me a second to call 911.”

  “I’m fine,” he said, reaching out to stop her from calling.

  “You don’t know that. Since you aren’t wearing a damn helmet you could have a concussion and not really be aware of your injuries.”

  Who did this chick think she was? After all, she hit him. Not the other way around.

  Lucky tried to get a look at her face, but the bright headlights silhouetted her so that he could only make out the color of her shoulder-length hair. Blond.

  Figured.

  “I promise you, I’m fine.”

  He must’ve convinced her since she shoved her phone into her pocket. She put both hands on her knees and huffed. “I’m a nurse. At least let me take a look at you.”

  “I think you’ve done enough,” he mumbled under his breath.

  As he rose to his feet, Lucky felt a sharp pain in his hip where he’d taken the brunt of the fall. He doubted it was anything more than a deep bruise, something he’d definitely feel for the next couple of days, but nothing that required medical attention. Thankfully, the pickup had only clipped his back wheel and sent him into the curb instead of hitting him directly. Otherwise, who knew what kind of injuries he’d have ended up with.

  Again, she asked him to let her have a look.

  “No need. I’ll handle it,” he said, waving her off. “Just pay attention next time.”

  With the front wheel of his mountain bike now resembling a taco, he lifted it over his shoulder and walked to the side entrance of the hospital. Outside he locked his bike to a light pole, then headed in through the automatic doors and down the hall to the ER. The desk clerk, an older woman with big hair and an even bigger smile, waved hello as she hung up the phone.

  “Well, hello there, handsome,” Dottie said in her southern drawl. “You’re a little late tonight.”

  “Some idiot driver clipped my back wheel and tossed me into the curb.” He showed her the giant tear and bloodstain on the sleeve of his shirt. “I need to clean myself up before clocking in.”

  “Sure thing, sugar. Exam room seven is open. Anything else you need? A kiss to make it all better?” she asked with a wink.

  Lucky chuckled. “Another time, maybe.” She was old enough to be his grandmother, but that didn’t deter her from a little innocent flirting. “I could use some scrubs.”

  “Absolutely. We can’t have you looking like that. Whatever will the ladies think?” she said with a laugh. “Give me just a minute and I’ll bring you some.”

  Chapter Two

  WHEN THE PHONE kept ringing nonstop and the desk clerk asked her to take a set of scrubs to exam room seven, Rachel didn’t think much of it. It was, after all, an ER and she assumed they were for a patient whose clothes were ruined and was in need of something to wear home. She gave a light tap on the exam room door and pushed it opened further, expecting to find someone at least sitti
ng on the exam table and requiring assistance. What she did not expect was to see a fine physical specimen, upright and most certainly able-bodied, whipping his shirt off over his head in one swift fluid motion. Nor did she expect to be greeted by strong shoulders, a broad muscular back, and narrow hips.

  Holy moly.

  This guy was by far the best-looking man she’d seen in the flesh in a very long time. Maybe ever. And she hadn’t even seen his face.

  She clutched the scrubs to her chest and stood silent and tongue-tied, watching, appreciating, as the muscles in his back and arms flexed and strained as he unfastened the leather belt around his waist and released the button. All those finely sculpted muscles worked in unison to create a stunning physical display of power and strength as he shoved his pants to the floor.

  Wearing only white crew socks and gray boxer briefs, he turned to face her and she nearly forgot how to breathe. She thought the back was nice? The chest. The abs. The dark trail of hair that began just below his navel and disappeared beneath the waistband of his briefs.

  “You could’ve dropped them on the table and left instead of just standing there.”

  Her gaze shot upward to see one corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile, and as dark brown eyes stared back at her she was immediately struck by the feeling she knew this guy. There was something so familiar about him, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

  She swallowed hard in an effort to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “You knew I was standing here?”

  Instead of answering, he simply held out his hand, his eyes flicking to the scrubs she held in a stranglehold against her chest before lifting to meet hers once again.

  “How?” She relaxed her grip, felt the blood rush back to her fingertips as she placed the scrubs in his hand. “How did you know?”

  “Spatial awareness,” he said, taking the clothes from her and immediately tossing the shirt onto the gurney. “That and you knocked on the door before you came in.” He flashed that half smile again before stepping into the pants and tying the drawstring. “Thanks for the clothes, Rachel. I can handle it from here.”

  Immediately she looked down to see if he’d read the name from her badge, only to realize her crossed arms were covering her ID. Clearly, he knew her. So she looked harder this time, doing her best to ignore the chest and abs and arms and focus on his face. As she mentally stripped away the disheveled hair, the heavy scruff covering his face, the laugh lines around his eyes, the earlier feelings of lust were replaced by a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  There was little doubt the man standing in front of her was the one and only Lucky James.

  She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “How long have you been back in town?”

  His eyes softened. “Since August.”

  From his tone, she knew he was thinking back to that same hot summer day, when she was angry at God and everyone but lashed out at Lucky. And the last thing she wanted to do right now was talk about it.

  There was a loud knock on the door as it pushed open and in walked another man with a stethoscope dangling around his neck. Although he was about the same age, this guy was blond and wore glasses. He stopped short at the sight of her and offered his hand. “Are you Karen’s replacement? We haven’t met yet. I’m Chad Ferguson.”

  That was a name she recognized as being one of the ER doctors.

  “I’m not sure who Karen is,” she said, taking his hand, “but I’m Rachel Dellinger. I transferred down here from the floor. Tonight’s my first night.”

  “It’s good to have you,” he said with a nod and a smile before turning his attention to Lucky.

  “So, what in the hell did you do, man? I couldn’t believe it when Dottie said you were in here. Thought I’d come check on you to make sure you didn’t do some real damage.”

  It was then she noticed the fresh blood and dirt on the backside of Lucky’s right arm. Which meant he was the guy from the parking lot.

  Lucky’s gaze momentarily slid to her, then back to the ER doc. “Nothing major. A little bit of road rash and that’s it. Give me five minutes and I’ll be outta here.”

  “No rush,” Ferguson said as he grabbed a couple of latex gloves from the dispenser on the wall. “Not like there’s anything going on out there anyway.”

  “You know you just jinxed it, right?”

  “Hell, yes.” Ferguson laughed. “You know there’s nothing I hate more than a quiet ER. Now let me make sure you didn’t break anything.”

  Rachel tried to back out of the way, but found herself hemmed in as Ferguson manipulated Lucky’s arm, working it to and fro, testing the elbow and then the shoulder.

  “Any pain in your wrist? Hand?”

  “Nope.”

  Then, as if the room couldn’t be any more crowded, another woman she didn’t yet know poked her head in the doorway. “We’ve got an ambulance en route. Patient is twenties, male. Motorcycle versus pickup.”

  “Ask and ye shall receive,” Ferguson said with a wide grin on his face. He took a moment to strip off his gloves and toss them in the hazardous-waste bin. “Things look fine, like you said. Let Rachel get you all bandaged up. But don’t be too long. This could be a good one.”

  As the ER doc rushed out of the room, she turned to grab wound cleanser and gauze pads from the supply cart. “Without a mirror, there’s no way you can see to clean it properly.”

  “You can go.” He tugged the bottle of wound cleanser from her hands. “I can take care of this.”

  Rachel grabbed the bottle back from him and set it down next to the gauze pads, daring him to try that little maneuver a second time.

  Once she was convinced he’d leave things well enough alone, she yanked a set of latex gloves from the dispenser and immediately pulled one on her right hand while leaning over to get a closer look. It was nothing more than a scrape, a pretty good one that had to hurt like hell. And when it started to heal and scab over, it was bound to pull and break open every time he bent his elbow.

  “So you’re the idiot from the parking lot.”

  The smile was gone from Lucky’s face this time when she looked up at him. Not that she could really blame him since she hadn’t really meant to say that last little bit out loud.

  That’s when she heard him mumble something under his breath about her driving skills. Obviously he didn’t think riding around on a bicycle in the almost dark didn’t play a part in their little incident in the parking lot.

  She blew out a frustrated breath and pulled on the second glove, snapping the latex against her palm while reminding herself that when she became a nurse she swore she’d treat all patients with care, no matter their gender or race or rotten disposition and holier than thou attitudes.

  “So, obviously you work here in the ER,” she said, turning her attention to the sterile packaging she was tearing open. “What do you do? Are you a doctor?” She held her breath hoping he wasn’t since she kinda hit him with her truck even though it was totally his fault. But it’d just be her luck to get fired the first night on the job.

  “I’m a tech.”

  Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s it?”

  “Wow. Don’t hold back from saying what you really think.” He grabbed the freshly opened gauze pad from her hand. “Since I’m the lowly technician who’d normally handle this type of stuff, I’ll just take care of it myself.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. We’ve been over this.” She snatched the gauze four-by-four back from him, doused it with antiseptic, and pressed it to his scrape at the widest point.

  “Goddammit,” he said through gritted teeth.

  She maybe could have used a more gentle hand, but what was done was done. “Who knew a Green Beret would be such a baby about a little scrape.”

  “Ranger. Not the same.” He took hold of her wrist, pulling her ha
nd from his arm. “I promise you, I can handle this from here.”

  “Fine. If you say so.”

  She stripped off her gloves and dropped them along with the gauze in the hazardous-waste bin and marched out of the room, thankful she didn’t have to spend one more minute taking care of the man.

  AFTER A HELLISH night at work, all Lucky wanted to do was go home, pull his blackout curtains closed, and turn off his phone. It ended up that wrecking his bike was just the beginning of his bad night. He was pissed on, vomited on, and then there was the unfortunate patient who needed assistance removing his penis ring. For four days the poor guy had tried to remove it on his own and only came in when the swelling reached the point he couldn’t pee anymore. It definitely gave a whole new meaning to blue balls and he and Chad couldn’t help but wince in sympathy when they got a look at the mess.

  So when the sun came up and his shift was over, Lucky was more than ready to get the hell out of there. His hip ached, his knee ached, and his elbow was wrecked enough he had to change the bandage more than once through the night. Then there was the little problem of his transportation home. Any other day, he’d heft the bike over his shoulder and haul it the two and a half miles home on foot. But today, he’d had enough. He was tapping out because he could.

  Not even two full months out of regiment and already he was going soft.

  For the next few minutes he chastised himself enough to feel sufficiently guilty for being so damn lazy. Was even on the verge of calling his dad back and telling him to forget about the ride when his old man pulled up to the hospital’s front entrance. Lucky gave himself a pass this time, taking a silent vow this would be the one and only time he’d do this. Next time, he’d suck it up and haul himself home on his own two feet, no matter what kind of day he’d had.

  “So much for the saying ‘Just like riding a bike,’ ” Duke James said with a laugh when he got a look at Lucky’s road bike. “It definitely looks like somebody forgot how.”