Here And Now (American Valor 2) (14 page)

Chapter Fourteen

F
OR TH
E FIRST
time in almost a year, she was going out on a first date. She was surprised to find herself a little nervous, a little excited, and if she were completely honest, slightly disappointed it wasn’t with Lucky. She slipped on her high heeled boots, wore her nice bra, and curled her lashes, hoping the good doctor would see a noticeable difference from her everyday nurse look.

Instead of Rich picking her up, she met him in the hospital parking lot. After all, she didn’t know him all that well and it was better to be safe than sorry.

And it just so happened Lucky suggested she meet him in a public place.

Knowing the kind of car Rich drove, she pulled up alongside him, and when he turned to see her pulling in next to him, she gave a little wave.

He got out of his car to greet her and as she made her way toward him, he asked, “You drive a truck?”

She looked back at it, trying to see it from his perspective. It wasn’t anything fancy. No bells and whistles and certainly nothing like the car he drove. But it was clean and she hadn’t had any mechanical problems with it whatsoever so there was no reason to get rid of it. Not that she’d consider it even if it did have problems. “It was my brother’s.”

Rich shook his head. “I’ve never known a woman who drove a truck. Come to think of it, I don’t know many guys who drive trucks. At least, not like that one.”

At least he had some manners as he walked her around to the passenger’s side of his black BMW. He paused just before opening the door.

“You’re wearing heels.”

She looked down at her four-inch heeled boots and back to his face, realizing only then they’d brought her eye to eye with him. Actually, more like her eyes to his forehead. Oops.

“We’re just going out to eat, right? It’s not like we’re going for a long hike in the woods,” she said in hopes of a laugh and lightening the mood a bit, but that didn’t happen.

Lucky would’ve laughed.

So she lowered herself into his car and wriggled her butt on the leather seat. She’d never considered herself a materialistic person; her childhood broke her of any such ideas. But even she had to admit his car was really nice. The all black interior. Dark tinted windows. New car smell. He climbed in the driver’s side and slid what she could only assume were some high dollar sunglasses onto his face and started the car.

As the engine roared to life, the car radio blared out the latest maudlin song from Coldplay. Only after the first song finished and another began, and then another, did she realize this wasn’t some random emo college station programming they were listening to, but rather a conscious musical selection made by him.

Not that there was anything wrong with Coldplay. She’d just never known a man who purposely listened to them.

She laughed to herself, making a mental note to tell Lucky later on.

“Something funny?” he asked, his tone almost accusatory.

“No, sorry. I was just thinking of something a friend told me.” She bit down on the inside of her lip and stared out the window, forcing her brain to find a new train of thought as they drove to the south side of town.

“I hope you like Italian,” he said after lowering the radio volume a bit. “Everyone was suggesting this new restaurant that just opened near the casino. Thought we’d try it out.”

“Sounds good.”

“I’m glad you think so, although I’m not sure how good it can really be in a town like this.”

Great. He was one of those big city people that believed nothing in a small town could ever compare to stuff in the big city. Like only highfalutin restaurants with fancy names and valet parking and celebrity owners were the only places worth eating.

Despite the throng of people waiting for a table just inside the front door, they were seated quickly since they were only a party of two. Considering every table in the place was taken, she wasn’t surprised a few minutes passed before their waitress greeted them. But when Rich’s voice took on a short, snippy tone with their waitress as she handed over their menus, Rachel’s gut told her this evening probably wouldn’t end well. She’d seen him take the same tone with Lucky a couple of times at the hospital. In the past she chalked it up to him being exhausted or having a rough day. It happened. Everyone had moments like that. It didn’t automatically mean that Rich was an asshole. But now, she began to wonder if he was only nice to people he had to be nice to.

Whereas Lucky’s default setting was nice.

It didn’t matter if the person was rich or poor, the busboy or the owner. The waitresses at the diner obviously adored him and gave him preferential treatment as a result. Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t imagine Rich ever stepping foot in the diner.

When the waitress returned to take the order, he took it upon himself to order the dinner-for-two special. Rachel told herself it was fine that he ordered for her. He probably thought she’d find it romantic. But what if she’d been allergic? What if she didn’t like mushrooms? It would have been nice if he’d at least asked her first if she even liked mushroom-stuffed ravioli.

Lucky would have asked.

Dammit.

She needed to stop. It wasn’t fair to be constantly comparing Rich or anyone else she might go out with in the future to Lucky. The opportunity to have something more with him had already came and went. They agreed to be friends—admittedly it was mostly her decision—and for her own benefit she needed to move on.

While they waited on their food, Rich spent the next several minutes talking about himself—where he went to school, the neighborhood where he grew up. And since she’d never heard of Highland Park, Texas, and wasn’t sufficiently impressed, he said that just went to show how little she knew about anything. He talked about the multi-million-dollar mansions. He name-dropped the famous people who lived around the corner or whose kids he went to school with. And when that wasn’t enough, he moved on to the subject of the prestigious university and medical school where he attended, his successful and important fraternity brothers. All things she didn’t know much of or care at all about.

Not once did he stop to ask anything about her.

He did, however, compliment her. The good doctor told her she was by far the most beautiful woman he’d seen in this godforsaken town. Such lovely words . . . all spoken to her chest.

And that was just another thing Lucky never did.

Oh, he totally ogled her on the occasion, like when she was wearing her Strawberry Shortcake costume or one of her “cutesy little workout tops” as he liked to call them. But it was always more flirtatious, more playful. And the good Lord knew she could give as good as she could get in that regard. But whenever they spent time facing each other from opposite sides of a dining room table or restaurant booth, he looked her in the eyes. Often with such intensity it felt like he knew all of her secrets and fears without her ever saying a word.

She was taking a drink of her water with lemon when the sound of glass meeting glass caught her attention. Her head shot up just in time to see the good doctor getting a better grip on his drink. Her first thought was that his water glass had slipped from his hand and smacked the tabletop. But then his face pinched as he stared off in the direction of one of the waitstaff.

“How long do I have to wait to get a water refill?”

This time she watched in horror as he purposely banged his drinking glass on top of the glass tabletop a second time.

“You’re going to break the table,” she said in a harsh whisper.

“It would serve them right,” he replied without looking at her. “The help here is terrible.”

After the third glass-banging, their waitress rushed over to him, deeply apologetic for the wait as she quickly refilled both their glasses. From there on out, their glasses were kept full, their food arrived quickly, likely with the belief the sooner they ate, the sooner they would be gone. At least Rich stopped talking about himself while they ate and it just so happened she very much enjoyed the mushroom ravioli.

Rachel was counting down the moments until their nightmare date was over when the waitress appeared once more. “Would you like to see the dessert menu?”

She looked across the table and noticed, just seconds before, Rich had taken the last bite of food from his plate. But before he could answer for the both of them, his cell phone rang in his pocket. He held up one finger, signaling for the waitress to wait as he answered his phone. “Dr. Hamilton.”

Good Lord. He really was a pretentious ass.

The waitress attempted to excuse herself so she could greet a family just seated in her section, but Rich took hold of her wrist. “We need the check.”

No
please
. No
thank you
.

She nodded in understanding and then rushed over to the new table, explaining she’d be right with them.

“Sorry about that,” he said after finishing his call and tucking his phone into his pocket. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to cut this short. The hospital needs me to come in. I guess Dr. Roush has a family emergency of some sort and needs to leave. And since I’m on call, I have to cover his shift.”

Rachel could hardly contain her excitement.

In ten short minutes, after he left a measly five-dollar tip on a sixty-five-dollar tab, they were back in the hospital parking lot. Although there was an empty slot next to her truck, he instead chose to park at the far end of the lot, angling across two spots so no one could ding the paint.

He walked her to her car, something Rachel now believe he did only because it was on his way inside instead of manners. As she stopped to pull her keys from her handbag, he leaned in close. “I’m sorry things were cut short. I was really looking forward to later.”

She looked up at him. “Later?”

He smiled at her. Not the sexy, panty-melting type of smile she’d become accustomed to from her best friend. No, this smile was more of the dirty old man variety. A shiver of disgust ran down her spine just as he took hold of her head and kissed her. And by taking her by surprise, he took advantage, shoving his tongue into her mouth with such ferocity she could only assume he was attempting to lick her tonsils.

Finally, he pulled away, his smile now one of smug satisfaction. As for her, well, she was quite thankful she didn’t lose her mushroom ravioli on his shoes.

“We’ll do this again real soon.” And with that he turned and walked away.

She’d never been so happy to see the back of someone.

Rachel climbed into the security of her truck and rested her head on the steering wheel for a moment, so very thankful the date was over. But that didn’t mean she wanted to go home to an empty house where she’d have nothing to do but replay the past hour’s events over and over again in her mind.

Whether it was out of habit or a need to be around someone else who could put a positive spin on the evening, she turned onto Lucky’s street when she reached it. No big deal. Just a last-minute drive-by. If he wasn’t there, no harm, no foul. But if he was there, then she’d pop in since it was still early, absolutely certain he wouldn’t mind at all.

Just as she hoped, his Jeep was in the driveway, so she parked along the street and made her way up the front walk. She knocked once, waited a few seconds, and then knocked a second time since ESPN was blaring on the television and it was likely difficult to hear much of anything. Then, through the etched glass in the front door, she saw his shadowy figure coming to answer.

What she hadn’t been able to tell from his silhouette was that he was fresh from the shower and wore only a towel around his waist.

“I thought you had a date?” With a look of concern on his face, Lucky pushed the door wider in silent invitation.

“I did. It’s over already.”

His look of concern was quickly replaced by amusement. “That bad, huh?”

Yes, it was
, she wanted to tell him. But she stopped herself.

“No. He was called in to work.”

That managed to shut him up and wipe the arrogant grin off his face.

“Grab something from the kitchen if you want. I’m gonna go . . .” He lifted his hand and thumbed in the direction of his room.

Even though her date could be easily filed under “Dates from Hell,” she just couldn’t bring herself to tell Lucky all about it. Not that she was trying to protect Rich’s reputation at the hospital. It had more to do with the fact Lucky already had a glimpse into her last relationship and she really didn’t want him to know she’d succeeded in attracting yet another asshole. In her mind, who she agreed to go out on dates with said more about her than it did the men who paid for dinner.

As she pulled a bottled water from the refrigerator, the thought crossed her mind that maybe she was judging Rich too harshly. Maybe he was really nervous and that’s why he talked about himself almost the entire time. The only way she’d find out is if she ignored her gut and went out on a second date just to make certain.

The initial thought made her kind of queasy, so she took a tentative sip of her water. He seemed nice enough at work, most people liked him. And at least he made great money and didn’t ask her to pay her share of the bill. That had to count for something. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d be around town for the long term. There wouldn’t be any expectation of a long-term relationship from either of them.

But that would likely mean he’d kiss her again. Another shiver raced down her spine.

Lucky’s bedroom door opened and he made his way into the kitchen, the towel replaced with his standard at-home uniform of basketball shorts and a plain T-shirt. His hair was still mostly wet, but in places the ends were starting to dry and curl. He really needed a trim, but on the other hand, his hair was just the right length to run her fingers through.

Dammit. She really needed to stop watching him so closely. It only led to thoughts she shouldn’t be having about her best friend.

“So, you never said—what happened at the end of the date?”

“He drove me back to my truck. I took your suggestion and met him at the hospital.” She smiled, thinking it would make him happy to hear she’d followed his advice.