Chapter 1

Emily

 

What do lukewarm coffee, fava beans, and blind dates have in common?

They’re on my top-ten list of least favorite things. Seriously, lukewarm coffee is disgusting. Fava beans freak me out. They’re flat and broad and just wrong.

And blind dates? Does anyone actually enjoy being set up with a complete stranger? I’d gone on a handful of these affronts to human nature. They all ended with me in the bathroom sending the obligatory SOS text for my designated savior to call with an imaginary emergency.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t bail out on tonight’s disaster, not when I was double-dating with my current land-lady and her husband. Besides renting me their garage apartment, the Hogues were my only friends in Rhode Island.

“You look like your planning your escape route.” Bridget reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Relax and try to have fun. Rhett’s a great guy.”

“So you keep saying.” Rhett. Ugh. I’d grown up next door to a guy named Rhett. He’d rocked my world before destroying it, and me in the process. As kids, we were best friends. We’d dated throughout high school and gone to the same college. Unfortunately, when our romance crashed and burned, so did our friendship.

Bridget leaned across the table to get my attention. “Emily?”

“Sorry. I zoned out for a minute.” I laughed to cover my embarrassment. “I don’t usually go out with doctors.”

She hitched her shoulder. “Neither did I until I married one.”

“Right, but Simon isn’t your typical doc.” I didn’t want to say it out loud, but Bridget’s hubby was more than a little easy on the eyes. The man put underwear models to shame. On top of his looks, he was a great father, talented physician, and dedicated humanitarian.

“No, he’s not your typical anything.” Bridget’s expression turned gooey before she shook herself out of the love induced stupor. “What do you have against docs? You work with them on an almost daily basis.”

“Correction, my job requires me to beg them to treat sick kids on an almost daily basis.” I sipped my tepid coffee and frowned. “Not all doctors, I don’t have a problem with female physicians. As a general rule, they are more down to earth.”

Bridget gave me a dubious look. “That’s a little like reverse sexism, but I agree.”

I have her attention. Now, all I have to do is bring her to the dark side. “I have a theory.”

“Go on.”

Leaning closer, I lowered my voice. “Have you ever noticed that almost all TV doctors are hot?”

She arched a brow and nodded.

“I think it gives regular docs an overinflated sense of self-worth. In reality, most of them are the guys who couldn’t get a date in high school. Not including Simon of course.”

Bridget choked on her iced tea. Waving her hand in front of her face, she said, “You’re right. Most docs in the ER have the social skills of a paper towel, but in their defense, medical school is competitive. Simon says he missed out on most of the college experience because he had his nose in a book.”

Memories of another guy, who was always busy cramming for exams, flashed unwelcome through my mind. Of course, I’d found out later Rhett wasn’t too busy to knock-up some bleached blonde co-ed while he claimed he was studying. In hindsight, it all came down to priorities—and I wasn’t his.

“It’s not like Simon to be late.” Bridget glanced over her shoulder toward the door. “Rhett must have gotten hung up at the hospital.”

I checked the time on my phone. “I can’t stay long. I have to check in with Paola’s host family.”

I’d spent the previous four years of my life working for a non-profit organization who specialized in sending doctors, and other volunteers, to remote areas of the globe to set up temporary clinics. A couple of times a year, I brought sick kids to the United States to receive life-saving medical care. Paola, a five-year-old Colombian girl, was one such case.

Bridget flashed me a bright smile. “I’m so glad Memorial agreed to donate her surgery and aftercare. Simon and I absolutely loved volunteering with Healing Hearts last year. We’re looking forward to going on another medical mission trip soon.”

“Ah yes, another exotic holiday spent in a third-world country.” A male voice, accentuated with a British accent, interrupted our conversation.

“You’re late.” Bridget stood and embraced her husband.

“Sorry, luv. Rhett’s surgery ran long.” Simon kissed her temple before turning to me. “Where will it be this time, Em? I hear the Antarctic is nice in the spring.”

“Only if you want to treat penguins and seals.” I deadpanned.

Simon tossed his head back in laughter as he drew me into a hug. “How’s the new case going?”

“Great. Paola is settled in with her host family. She had her first visit with Dr. Dickson yesterday. All we’re waiting for are the results from her latest tests, and the surgery is a go.”

“Good to hear. I called in a lot of favors to help make this happen.” He slid into the booth beside his wife. “It’s important work you’re doing.”

“Thank you.” I loved my job. Traveling the world and helping to save sick kids wasn’t for wimps. The hours sucked almost as much as the pay, but it was so worth it. Other than traveling now and then, I worked from home. The perfect set up for a single parent.

Bridget nudged Simon’s side. “Where’s Rhett? Don’t tell me he chickened out.”

Simon ran his hand over the back of his neck. “Parking the car, and I wouldn’t exactly say he chickened out.”

“What does that mean?” She narrowed her eyes.

“I didn’t tell him this was a set up.” He gave her a coy grin. “You know he’s anti-dating.”

I saw Simon’s lie by omission as the perfect out from an awkward situation. Making a show of checking the time, I said. “Shoot. Sorry to have to bail, but I really do need to check in on Paola before it gets too late.” Not to mention, I wanted to check in on my own little girl before she went to bed.

Bridget turned and gave me her no-nonsense-nurse expression. “I thought you said you had to call them?”

“You know how it is. The host families are awesome, but they need a lot of hand holding. These kiddos are in a strange country without their parents. They don’t speak the language. Heck, Paola’s village didn’t even have electricity. There’s always an adjustment period.” Half-standing, I finished off the now ice-cold coffee.

“He’ll be in any second.” Bridget frowned between Simon and me. “Are you sure you can’t stay long enough to meet him?”

“Maybe next time.”

“Before I forget, let me give you the name and number of the risk manager at the hospital. She needs you to sign a forest’s worth of papers before Dickson can do the surgery.” Simon scrolled through his phone.

I retrieved a pen and my journal from my bag.

He looked at me as if I’d sprouted wings. “You don’t keep phone numbers in your cell?”

“It’s easier if I keep the case notes all in one place. Plus, I document my personal thoughts and experiences in here.”

“Ah so you keep a diary.”

“A journal. Diaries are for teenaged girls with crushes. I keep serious information in here. One day, I plan to write a book about my work.” I motioned for him to relay the information.

A man spoke from behind me, “You wouldn’t believe the asshole in the parking lot. He cut me off then threatened me as if I was the one who hit the gas to steal the spot.”

The deep, whiskey-smooth, voice caressed me from my ears to my toes, and back up again.

My blind date lifted my purse from the seat, handed it to Bridget, and slid into the booth without as much as a glance in my direction. I hadn’t run across a man with a voice like that in ages.

Color me intrigued.

I took stock of my blind date. Dark hair, nice body—muscular, but not too bulky. From what I could see, he had a nice five-o’clock shadow on a strong jaw. Even his arrogance did something for me, but I’d reserve final judgement until I got a look at his eyes. Afterall, the eyes were the windows to the soul.

“I’ll have the grilled salmon, risotto, and spinach salad.” He placed his order without bothering to look at me. Instead he ranted to the couple. “The fucker outside had the nerve to threaten me after he almost side-swiped the Jeep.”

Simon chuckled, but Bridget looked as if she’d swallowed sour milk.

“Umm…” I stood there like an idiot waiting for Simon to give me the phone number, so I could leave. It didn’t matter what the guy looked like. I had zero respect for anyone who treated servers like they were second-class citizens. Seriously, what kind of man didn’t bother to look someone in the eye when ordering food?

The kind that deserved spit-sauce on their fish, that’s who.

My would-be blind date finally met my gaze.

Those piercing chocolate brown eyes. The hard-set line of his jaw. The scar bisecting his right eyebrow…the same scar I’d given him in the sixth grade. It was a damned good thing I was standing in front of two doctors, because my heart stopped beating.

Correction. Make that one doctor and one destroyer of hopes and dreams.

Oh my God. What are the freaking chances? I’d dreamed of this moment for the last ten years, or more accurately, I’d had nightmares about it. The cold coffee churned in my stomach, and the muscles in the back of my neck tightened. If I didn’t get out of there soon, I’d end up with a migraine.

“You don’t work here?” His eyes widened a fraction as he took me in from head to toe.

“She’s not the waitress, bloke. She’s a friend of ours.” Simon shook his head.

Rhett’s mouth opened and closed several times before he finally managed to speak. “Sorry about that. I saw the pad and pen and assumed you were the waitress.”

He doesn’t recognize me? Sure, I hadn’t seen him in ten years, but we’d grown up together. Hell, he’d punched my V-card freshman year at Auburn. I couldn’t do this. Couldn’t be here with Rhett. I’d spent too long ensuring I’d never see him again to blow it over a stupid blind date.

Turning to the couple, I forced a smile. “It was great seeing you guys again, but I should go.”

Bridget glanced between Rhett and me. “Coffee tomorrow?”

“Sure.” I snatched my purse from her.

“Stay and a have a drink at least.” Simon furrowed his brow. Evidently, he failed to notice my impending melt-down. Nodding toward Rhett, he said, “Emily, this is Rhett Hammond. Rhett this is Emily—”

“McCabe.” Cutting him off, I thrust my hand in Rhett’s face. “Emily McCabe.”

 

 

Chapter 2

Rhett

 

Emily McCabe? I’d known Emily Elizabeth Daniels since fourth grade, but my God she’d grown up since college. Her dark hair was longer. Her eyes seemed bluer, and her curves were damned sure curvier.

Memories of the last time I’d laid eyes on her came back with the force of a tsunami. Emily-freaking-Daniels, my first and only love.

“Nice to meet you, Ms. McCabe.” What’s with the new last name? She could have gotten married in the last ten years, but I would have heard about it. Our mothers still lived next door to each other in a suburb outside of Atlanta and gossiped like a couple of school girls.

“You too.” She raised her chin and squinted, the same damned expression she’d used on me since we were kids. I’d pissed her off. Again.

In my defense, seeing her for the first time since I’d broken both our hearts had rendered me speechless. Now that my brain had a chance to reboot, I couldn’t help but wonder why she was pretending she didn’t know me.

Ignoring me, Emily nodded toward Bridget. “See you tomorrow. Eleven o’clock?”

My overwhelming need to keep her there a while longer shocked the shit out of me. I hadn’t as much as looked at another woman since my divorce, but this was Em. My Em. We had a long history and years of catching up to do.

“I insist you stay.” Sliding further into the booth, I motioned to Simon and his wife. “These two obviously set us up.”

“Guilty as charged, mate.” Simon smirked. “Ms. McCabe? Won’t you stay for a little while longer?”

Bridget elbowed his side. Likely in response to his teasing Emily about the fake name.

God, I hope it’s a fake name.

Emily shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I really have to go.”

I couldn’t allow her to walk out of the restaurant and risk waiting ten more years to see her again. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

The color drained from her face. “That’s not necessary.”

Like hell it isn’t. I didn’t know what kind of game she was playing, but I intended to find out. “Don’t worry about it. I should probably make sure that jerk who cut me off didn’t key my car.”

“I have to go to the restroom.” She turned so quickly she nearly lost her balance.

Judging by the lack of dishes on the table, Emily probably hadn’t eaten dinner. She always did have issues with low blood sugar. Back at Auburn, she brought new meaning to the word hangry.

I stood to follow her, but Bridget placed her hand on my arm. The second I met her gaze, I knew I had a problem. Nurse Hogue was known as a tough cookie at the hospital. Though I knew she had a soft side, I didn’t want to risk landing on her naughty list.

“What’s going on? Do you two know each other?” Bridget asked.

“You could say that.” I nodded toward the restrooms. “I should go make sure she’s all right.”

Bridget shook her head and added a bit of steel to her voice. “I don’t know what the deal is, nor is it any of my business, but I’d give her a few minutes.”

Simon ran his hand over the back of his neck. “She’s right. We spent two weeks with Emily in the jungle last year. I watched her order around a medical team one minute and hold a dying child’s hand the next—but I’ve never seen her that upset.”

“You’re right.” Resisting the urge to pull the I’ve known her longer card, I sank into the booth and rested my forearms on the table. The reality that we were strangers hit me like a two-by-four upside the head.

The actual waitress came and took our orders, but between Emily’s disappearing act, Bridget frowning, and Simon drumming his fingers, I’d lost my appetite.

After what felt like hours, Simon finally asked, “Are you planning to tell us what’s going on, or leave us to guess?”

Without taking my gaze off the tabletop, I said, “We grew up together. Went to the same college. I was young and stupid, and screwed up.”

Bridget glanced from me to the ladies’ room. “I’m going to make sure Emily’s all right. Excuse me.”

Although his wife was well out of earshot, Simon lowered his voice. “Screwed up or screwed around?”

I massaged my brow to stave off a headache. “I didn’t cheat on her. We were taking a break from each other when I met Lila.”

He stiffened as if I’d slapped him. “Damn.”

“Yeah. I haven’t seen or spoken to Emily since she found out about Lila’s pregnancy.”

Precious few people knew the story of how my ex-wife weaseled her way into my life, but I’d shared the basics with Simon.

I’d met Lila, AKA Pathological Lila, my sophomore year at Auburn. After a drunken sorority party, I’d woken up naked beside her with little memory of the activities leading up to my lack of clothing. Needless to say, I got the hell out of there.

Two months later, Lila announced we were having a baby on social media, and my life changed forever.

“Emily must have recognized you. She gave a fake name,” Simon said.

My heart rate accelerated. “It was fake?”

“Hell if I know. She goes by Emily Daniels professionally.” He tilted his head. “Give her some time to get over the shock.”

“I could write her a letter.” I needed to lighten the mood. What better way to do that than to tease Simon about his own relationship?

He chuckled. “Say what you will, but those letters changed my life.”

When Simon and Bridget were dating, he’d written her a letter expressing his desire to get her into bed. It’d worked. The lucky son of a bitch got laid and managed to marry the girl. Not that I had any intention of marrying again. Ever.

Been there. Done that. Have the scars to prove it. Although…it would be nice to catch up with Em.

Bridget returned to the table, gave me a once over, and folded her arms. “She wasn’t in the restroom. One of the waiters said he let a woman out the service entrance a few minutes ago.”

I held my hands up. “I didn’t mean to scare her off. I haven’t seen her in a decade.”

“For her sake, it’s probably best you steer clear.” She sighed and reclaimed her seat. “Emily’s working on a difficult case. She needs to keep her head in the game.”

“Case? What kind of case?” Was she a lawyer? A doctor? As far as I knew, she’d dropped out of college after the Lila incident.

“Em works for Healing Hearts.” She spoke as if I should know what the hell she was talking about.

My patience stretched like a rubber band. If I didn’t get control of myself, it’d snap. “Which is?”

Simon said, “It’s like Doctors without Borders. They specialize in pediatric cardiology but treat children with a variety of life-threatening diseases.”

My stomach soured. While I didn’t recall the name of the organization, I remembered the discussion about pro bono work on a child with a serious congenital heart condition. I’d spoken out against the hospital donating such a delicate surgery. Not that I had any ill will toward the kid. My decision was based on more practical concerns. Since the operation would happen outside of normal protocols, neither the hospital’s nor the physicians’ malpractice insurance would cover any lawsuits—the potential for financial disaster to her medical team was huge.

“Tell me this isn’t about the tetralogy of Fallot with pulmonary atresia case.” I braced myself for the oncoming argument. Simon and Bridget had rallied to get the hospital board to agree to treat the child. It didn’t help the child in question had the same condition as a popular actor’s newborn son. The hospital saw the case as a public relations dream.

“Her name is Paola, and she’ll die without the surgery.” This from Bridget, a mother of three. Of course, she has a soft spot for a needy child. Once upon a time, I had one too, but it’d hardened when I lost everything good and precious in my life.

Simon held his hands in the shape of a T. “Time out. Before this conversation gets heated, we will agree to disagree on the merits of Memorial Hospital taking on the little girl.”

Bridget and I nodded.

He cracked a half-assed smile. “Yes. Emily is the case manager from Healing Hearts overseeing Paola’s care.”

Damn it. There was no way in hell I could reach out to her now. I’d spent the previous eight years avoiding any and all things pediatric cardiology. Getting involved with Em, even a casual friendship, would put me smack dab in the center of a place I couldn’t be—not if I valued my sanity.