Hotblooded (8 page)

Brooke felt bad about the thought almost before it was fully formed. Amanda was spoiled but she hadn’t always gotten her way. Brooke had seen to that. She had stolen the love of Amanda’s life. It had been his idea, but that didn’t change the fact that Amanda had been crushed.

As raindrops began to fall, Brooke turned uphill and pumped her arms harder, pulling her already tired body up the last incline before home. Trying to escape the memories, the mistakes, the regrets. She had more immediate problems anyway. Like the fact that she’d been thrown out of her own clinic.

That news was certain to get around.

Thunder rumbled and she ran harder, pulling against the friction of the pavement. She had every right and reason to be in that examination room. Okay, being Amanda’s friend was out of the question, being voted Miss Congeniality or Ms. Honey Creek wasn’t going to happen. But if someone was bleeding from the head and needed someone to save their life? Then she was the one for the job. She knew more than anyone in town about what to do in medical situations, emergency and otherwise.

Well, everyone except for Jack, she acknowledged with a frown.

He couldn’t even just be a physician. He had to be an emergency physician. Wasn’t that just typical of how things went for her within these city limits?

She heard a vehicle approaching and took a few steps closer to the sidewalk, out of the way, but the black truck slowed down beside her.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

She nearly groaned. The last person she wanted to see right now.

“I’m busy.”

“It’s starting to rain,” Jack pointed out.

The drops were falling faster now, soaking her hair and clothes. “No kidding.”

The truck continued to crawl along next to her.

“We need to talk,” he said. “I’ve been trying to find you.”

“I went for a run.”

“Obviously.”

“And I’m not done yet.” She picked up her pace.

Of course, he was in a truck. He stayed right beside her.

“I don’t want to wait.”

“Too bad.” She was getting winded trying to talk while running. She decided to quit trying to talk.

“I want to apologize. And finish the conversation we started in the hallway. Let me give you a ride home.”

She said nothing and kept her pace steady.

“Brooke—”

Just then a loud clap of thunder boomed above them, followed by a blinding flash of lightning and the clouds split, dumping a cosmic bucket of water down on them. She was drenched within seconds.

Of course.

She stopped running, wiping water from her eyes as she turned her face upward. The rain was cool and refreshing…and a nice distraction.

She didn’t want to hear Jack say he was sorry for how things went today. He couldn’t be sorry in the sense that he’d done something wrong. It was more that he felt sorry for her. And she hated that idea.

Brooke could admit, if only to herself, that she was mortified he’d witnessed Honey Creek’s princess rejecting her help.

She continued walking, letting the rain pour over her, trying her best to ignore the man in the truck beside her. He was stubborn, she knew too well. But he was getting way too close to things she didn’t like to think about, not to mention talking about with a man she didn’t know all that well. Or really at all. What she knew about Jack could be summarized in four words—great kisser, pushy, physician.

“Brooke, get in the truck.”

“No.”

He swore and suddenly the truck lurched forward then swerved several feet in front of her, blocking her path. She calmly altered her route and continued. He got out of the truck and stepped in front of her, hands on his hips. He was also drenched within seconds, his hair plastered against his forehead, his eyes flashing like the lightning overhead.

Jack had experienced more frustration since meeting Brooke Donovan than he’d ever felt in his life. She was stubborn, and strong…and beautiful, even wet.

Her long hair was swept away from her face where she’d pushed it back out of her eyes. Tiny rivulets of water chased each other over her cheeks and down her throat. Her light blue T-shirt was plastered to her body, emphasizing curves that Jack remembered all too well. He’d dreamed about those curves.

He’d been too frustrated and worried by the time he’d seen her jogging along the street that he hadn’t paid attention to her long, tanned legs beneath the short running shorts—but now he took a moment. She was clearly a regular runner, her body trim and toned. Suddenly, he felt more supportive of her finishing her workout before their talk.

“Get out of the way,” she said, obviously exasperated. “I don’t want to talk.”

“Too bad,” he said, mimicking her earlier words.

“You can’t make me talk to you.” She planted hands on her hips as well, clearly in challenge.

“You might be surprised what I can make you do.” He was pleased by the way her eyes widened, with surprised curiosity and maybe a few memories.

“I’m not…” She stopped and cleared her throat. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

He wondered about the throat clearing for a moment. She seemed distracted.

“You need to get out of the rain,” he told her, stepping forward.

“I like it.”

“You’ll catch a cold.”

She looked at him as if she couldn’t believe what he’d just said. “You’re a doctor. I’m sure you know colds don’t come from being outside in the rain.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Get in the car.”

“I thought you were a salesman, you know,” she said suddenly.

“And I thought you were the cleaning lady.”

“You could have told me who you were the very first time we met.”

“Likewise.” He watched her try to argue that point in her mind and then fail. “And I wasn’t here as a doctor, so it wasn’t relevant.”

“Well, I wasn’t in the clinic as a physician’s assistant when you showed up yesterday.”

Yesterday. He didn’t need to try hard to conjure nearly every detail of yesterday. “I wasn’t looking for a physician’s assistant. I was looking for you.”

“I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone looking for me.”

“So you lied.”

“I intentionally misled you,” she corrected. “There’s a subtle but important difference.”

He snorted. “Okay, that’s fine. The fact is I wouldn’t have even been there today with Amanda if you’d just told me who you were upfront. We could have had everything taken care of by now.”

“Right. And if you’d just take ‘no, thank you’ for an answer you also would not have been there today with Amanda.”

Which brought them effectively back to the reason he’d come looking for her. Well, the reason other than the fact that he couldn’t get her out of his mind.

“Listen—”

She interrupted his intended apology. “I assume you didn’t tell Carla that you were a doctor either. I’m sure she would have told me.”

“I just met her and—”

“I must have looked like an idiot not knowing you were a doctor, not asking for your assistance.”

He hadn’t intended to step in at all. But his instincts as a physician had kicked in when he saw her getting nowhere. The patient had been his first concern.

“You didn’t—”

“Contrary to popular belief, I do realize I’m a P.A., not a physician. I realize that there are times when I should defer to a doctor. But I didn’t know there was a doctor around. I was trying to handle the situation the best I could considering I thought I was on my own.”

He needed to apologize. He wanted to apologize. Well, not exactly. He wasn’t good at apologies. But he wanted her to feel better. And she would, if she would just shut up.

“I—”

“You also shouldn’t have thrown me out of that room. I know she was getting agitated, but I need to establish my role here in town. You’re not going to be here next time. And I’ll need to be able to take control.”

“I didn’t—”

“But now you’re the big hero. Carla said that’s your thing. Well, I’m so glad you got to show off today and stroke your ego a bit. Those women were fawning all over you after Amanda was stabilized and her mother activated her gossip phone tree. You’ll probably have casseroles coming out of your ears tomorrow. But this is my medical practice, in my town. This isn’t about you, Jack.”

Dammit, he wanted to say he was sorry. He didn’t want casseroles or applause or thank yous from a town of strangers. He wanted to hear how he could help Brooke, what he could do for her, how he could be
her
hero. He wanted to hear that she was going to be okay. Dammit. If she would just shut up.

There was only one option.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she continued. “That maybe I deserve the way Amanda feels about me and that I—”

He stepped close, cupped the back of her head, pulled her forward and covered her still-moving mouth with his.

Brooke stiffened in surprise, but she did stop talking. In fact, it only took a second for her lips to shift gears and begin kissing him back. With enthusiasm.

She’d been thinking about this all day. Which pissed her off because even when she was mad at him, she wanted him. When he’d come barging into her office, when they’d been arguing about the cappuccino machine, even in the midst of him making her look bad, she’d wanted to kiss him.

There were clearly some things that were genetic after all. Wanting inappropriate good-looking men was evidently one of them.

She considered pulling back, but then Jack’s other hand cupped the side of her head and brought her in until her breasts pressed against his chest. He deepened the kiss, tipping his head to one side and opening his lips.

And there was no way in hell she was moving anywhere but closer.

She responded, following his lead, parting her lips, gripping his biceps and going up on tiptoe to get closer. He welcomed her body more fully against his, widening his stance to keep his balance as she pressed against him.

He traced her bottom lip with his tongue and she felt a surge of heat sweep through her. The hand against her cheek left her face and dropped to the curve of her right buttock, where he lifted her, bringing their pelvises even. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her right leg around his waist. She wasn’t sure who groaned first at the intimate contact. He turned and walked her back toward the truck until her back was against the driver-side door. Then he pressed more fully into her. She dug her fingers into his hair and met his tongue with hers.

The truck door was becoming slippery with the rain and Brooke could tell he was struggling to hold her where he wanted her. Finally, after she slid twice, he pulled back, took a gulp of air and let her slide gently to the ground.

She gazed up at him, dazed. Regretting the lack of contact already.

He grinned at her, then wiped some of the water away from her cheeks. “Now will you let me apologize?” he asked.

She licked her lips. “No. But you can do that again.”

He paused only two seconds before acting. He braced his hands on the side of the truck on either side her head, bent, and touched her lips once more.

This was a softer kiss, more exploratory than passionate.

They didn’t touch other than their lips. Her arms were at her sides, palms flat against the truck door. He kept his body back, away from hers. She’d
felt
him the first time, now she
tasted
him. A minute later, the sound of car tires splashing through water broke through her haze of pleasure. Panic raced through her instinctively and she jerked back. Hands splayed on Jack’s chest, she pushed hard. He obeyed the pressure and leaned back, just in time for a car to drive past, its headlights glancing over them.

“Dammit,” she muttered.

“What?”

“Someone saw us.”

He frowned down at her. “So what if someone saw us?”

“Now it will probably be all over town.”

No one would be surprised, of course, which was the entire problem. She shouldn’t even spend time alone with Jack, not to mention kissing him, and definitely not in public, for God’s sake. What had she been thinking? She hated that even this moment with him—this incredible moment—could be ruined in this town.

“So?” he asked again.

She sighed heavily. “You don’t understand.” But she suddenly had the urge to tell him all of it, just to see if maybe, possibly, he could understand just a little bit.

His eyes widened and he spread his arms. “Obviously. Explain.”

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, just watching him. Could she?

He leaned in slightly. “Does it have anything to do with Amanda?”

Damn him and those intense eyes that seemed to see inside her. Brooke bit down a little harder, keeping herself from saying anything…or everything.

“Your husband?”

Jack was a stranger. She still wasn’t entirely clear why he was here. And he was driving her nuts. She wasn’t going to confess anything to him.

Suddenly she straightened. “I’m really tired. I’m going to head home.”

She started walking briskly down the street in the direction she’d been jogging.

He reached out for her just in time to grasp her wrist, abruptly halting her retreat.

“Oh, no you don’t.” He tugged, bringing her stumbling back to him before he spun her. “I want some answers. What the hell is going on with you and this town?”

She wouldn’t meet his eyes, but she stood still. Not that she had much choice with him holding onto her.

“You don’t want the money, you were avoiding me like the plague after almost stripping down with me, now this blowout with Amanda—”

“They hate me, okay?” The words tumbled out before she could press her lips together. She risked looking up in time to see his frown. She sighed again. “And I’m a mess. It’s a long story.”

“They hate you?”

She nodded, feeling stupid.

“And when you say ‘they’, you mean Honey Creek?”

She nodded.

“All of Honey Creek?”

The whole situation was stupid. She didn’t want Jack to see this side of her. She didn’t want him asking questions, wondering, formulating opinions—because opinions in Honey Creek never went her way. A surge of indignation hit her. “Meaning, what did I do to deserve it?” she asked, her tone instantly defensive.