Second Time Around (5 page)

“I'm sure Bryan wouldn't mind. Let's go find him. Kevin was introducing him to some of your partners. I went to the ladies' room and haven't caught back up with him.”

“Laura, I'd rather not…”

Laura touched Emily's arm sympathetically. “Kevin brought a date, so there's no reason to feel awkward. She's actually pretty nice.”

A date? Why was she surprised? There was no reason Kevin shouldn't bring someone. In fact, she should be thrilled. What better way to avoid him?

They made their way through the crowd and to the hors d'oeuvres, finally finding Bryan at a table near the front of the room. Laura invited Emily to sit with
her, which Emily was glad to do, until she realized Kevin and his date were seated at the same table. She glanced around, quickly realizing that most everyone had quit mingling—she had a choice between Bob's table, or Kevin's.

Friends had informed her that Kevin had started dating soon after their breakup. That knowledge was unsettling, especially now that she was sitting across from him and his gorgeous girlfriend. Laura was right: Kristen seemed amazingly likable. If nothing else, Emily would love watching Kevin squirm.

Emily sat down, and was soon listening as Kristen explained her work as an interior decorator, though her attention drifted to Kevin and Bryan joking together. Emily remembered with fondness their friendly banter. Ignoring the emotion building inside, she distracted herself from admiring how handsome Kevin looked in a suit and tie. The khaki blazer and baby-blue shirt accentuated the color of his eyes and complimented his curly golden hair.

She turned toward the raucous sound of laughter and the clinking of silverware against china across the room. Toasts were made to a successful project. Platters of shrimp scampi emerged from the kitchen. She and Kevin exchanged a glance.
Déjà vu.
Unexpectedly, the years between disappeared, and Emily found it impossible not to return Kevin's disarming smile.

Emily heard a pager beeping, and to her relief noticed Bob leaving the party.

Laura quickly jumped up and headed toward the ladies' room. Bryan quietly asked Emily to check on her, explaining that his wife had been battling the flu for a couple of weeks. Emily wanted to laugh, sur
prised at the naiveté of this father of four. Taking into consideration that his wife had left their marriage before telling him she was expecting, she simply patted his shoulder and followed Laura.

She went into the ladies' room, and wasn't surprised to find the newlywed blotting her face with a cold paper towel.

Laura looked up, a wan hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “Are you here as a friend, or a doctor?” Laura took a mouthful of water, swished it through her mouth and spit it out.

“I'm not sure which you need more right now.” Smiling, Emily stepped closer to the trim woman and felt her forehead. “No fever. Your husband seems to think you need a doctor. He hasn't a clue what's wrong, does he?”

Laura shook her head. She leaned her elbows on the edge of the sink. “He's had so much to adjust to. And contrary to what you think, we weren't trying yet. He wanted to wait a few more months,” she mumbled through the soggy paper towel.

Emily let out a long sigh, struggling between her instincts as a doctor to agree with Bryan and the brief jealous longing of a woman. “Have you taken a test?”

“Who needs one? This is my fourth, Emily. The flu doesn't last two weeks. Besides, the office doesn't usually want to see a patient until they're ten weeks, right? I wanted to wait another week or two to tell Bryan. I don't want to worry him.” Laura took a deep breath and exhaled.

“With your recent history, it wouldn't hurt to come in earlier, Laura—make sure everything's settled in the right place.” Emily suggested Laura sit
down in the soft chair in the corner for a few minutes before going back to the party.

Laura stood up straight and smoothed the front of her column dress, then brushed her hair back into order. She took a compact from her purse and applied some color to her pale cheeks. “That shrimp sounded so good, but when I smelled it…”

Emily could sympathize with a missed dinner.

“I wish I could see the look on Bryan's face when you tell him,” she said to lighten the mood.

Laura's face paled again as she looked toward the creaking door behind Emily. “Looks like you may get your wish,” she whispered.

Bryan peeked into the ladies' room and looked around uncomfortably. “Are you okay, honey?”

The concern in his eyes was obvious.

Laura closed the gap between them and hugged her husband, whispering in his ear. His face creased into a heartwarming smile. Bryan's hands were on her waist, and he pulled her closer.

Emily felt like an intruder watching the tender exchange of their kiss. Yet, much as she tried, she couldn't look away.

Bryan gave his wife one more hug, then held her at arm's distance and looked into her eyes. “Maybe I'd better take you home.”

Emily interrupted. “I think that's an excellent idea. I hear jelly beans do wonders for morning sickness, which, by the way, can occur any time of day.”

Laura glanced at Bryan, a guilty look on her face. “I should be fine now. This is Kevin's big night. You should be here for him.”

Easing his way out of the ladies' room, Bryan shook his head. “You can't even stand the smell of
the food, Laura. You know how protective Kevin is. He'd insist.”

“You can't tell him the news now. I don't want to overshadow his night.”

Bryan thought a moment, then turned to Emily. “Could you explain for us, Em?”

“I'll tell him that Laura wasn't feeling well, and I insisted you take her home. He wouldn't dare argue.”

Laura broke into a wide smile, and exchanged a knowing glance with her husband.

“Don't get any ideas. Just doing my job.” The two turned to leave, and Emily added, “Bryan, I want to see her on Monday, just to be on the safe side.”

“Consider it done.”

The two left, and Emily felt tears sting her eyes.
This is ridiculous. You deal with pregnant women every day, Emily. Why should Laura be any different?

Emily sat down and took a deep breath, willing herself to relax. Other women came and went, and each time Emily claimed she had something in her eye. Finally, she dried the tears, then splashed cool water on her face. She allowed her eyes a few minutes to clear before returning to the table to get her purse and leave.

But the elegant decorations—calla lilies and spires of fresh greenery—had been cleared from the tables, and the guests were already gone. She must have lost track of time.

Kevin and his date were making their way toward her. Kristen released Kevin's arm when he turned toward Emily. “How is Laura?”

“She wasn't feeling well, so I insisted Bryan take her home.” Emily looked toward the table for her purse. As if reading her mind, Kevin produced it. His hand looked incredibly tender holding the tiny evening bag, and Emily felt emotion choke her throat. “Thank you.”

His gaze lingered, and Emily's heart raced despite the knowledge that Kevin's girlfriend had reclaimed her place beside him. “It seems your ride left already. Let us give you a lift home.”

“No. Thank you, anyway.” She glanced around, observing that the room was now filled with wait staff whisking dishes and linens into the back room. “I'll call a cab.”

“It's bad PR to leave a member of the clinic board waiting for an unreliable cab service.” He broke away from Kristen again, and pulled Emily aside. “Not to mention, I want to know what's really going on, and why you're upset.”

She glared at him. “Now's not the time. You have a date.” The last thing she needed tonight was to share her private misery with Kevin.

“I think that's up to me to decide.” His eyes drilled intimately through her. “Let me get Kristen's coat.”

“What?” She stared at him in amazement. “When did you become so cultured?” The words slipped from her mouth. So far, they had both been careful not to reveal their past relationship, and she hoped Kristen missed the inference.

“You might be surprised,” he quipped, a teasing glint in his eyes.

When he returned, Kevin helped Kristen with her fake fur coat, then escorted them both to his truck.
The awkwardness didn't end when they all piled into the cab, with Kristen crowded into the middle.

Emily gave Kevin her address and asked if he needed directions. When he turned in the opposite direction, Emily glanced at Kristen. The woman's resentment was apparent. “Kevin, I need to get home,” Emily insisted.

“I need to call it an early night myself. I'm sure Kristen understands, don't you?” Kevin's voice carried a tone that Emily knew all too well. The discussion was over. And from the look on his date's face, so was their relationship.

Kevin pulled to a stop in front of the woman's town house. Trapped between them, Kristen looked at Emily, as if it were obvious that she refused to exit the truck from Kevin's door as she had entered.

“I—I'm sorry, Kristen,” Emily stammered as she got out to let Kristen exit. Kevin walked around the truck to escort his date to the door.

“I don't know what's going on between you two, but tell Kevin not to bother calling back until it's over for good this time.”

Emily stared at the woman, who turned and began walking so fast on her spiked heels that her legs wobbled. Kevin trailed behind, and didn't seem surprised, moments later, to have the door slammed in his face.

Emily hurried to climb back into the truck before Kevin returned to help her. She hiked the hem of her dress an inch to step up onto the chrome running board, but her foot slipped. From the corner of her eye, she saw Kevin rush forward, too late to catch her before she hit the ground.

“E
mily!” Kevin dropped to his knees beside her. “Are you okay?”

She groaned softly, rubbing the back of her head. “I can't believe I did that.”

“Well, it's a first for me, too. Never had a lady hurry just to avoid letting me help her get in. Guess that'll teach me to take two women home at the same time, huh?”

Emily lay awkwardly on the cold ground trying to explain how she'd fallen, but finally her irritation won. “Oh, forget it,” she said, trying to get up gracefully. “Would you mind helping? Please.”

He placed a hand on her shoulder to hold her still and leaned closer to examine her head. “You sure we should move you?”

“Who's the doctor here?” She squirmed, struggling to get to her feet. “I'm fine.”

Kevin pulled her away from the truck door, trying to ignore the way her auburn hair tumbled from the curved silver clip and shimmered in the moonlight.
“Hang on.” Kevin put one hand under her knees, the other behind her back, and lifted her off the ground. The touch of her hands on his neck brought back dangerous memories he would just as soon have kept locked away. He didn't move. He couldn't. His gaze dropped to her lips. All he could think of was the unthinkable.

“Kevin. Don't even…” she scolded, at the same time sending him a calculating gaze that half dared him to try.

He smiled, thinking about accepting the challenge, and his foolishness for even tempting fate. “Don't worry, Doc, I wouldn't dream of it.” It didn't help when he saw the heart-shaped opening in the back of her otherwise conservative crushed-velvet dress.

She loosened her embrace, sudden panic in her eyes. “I think you should put me into the truck before your irate girlfriend finds us like this and gets the wrong impression—again.”

He paused, then not-so-gently dropped her onto the seat and slammed the door closed. What was he thinking? He knew better than to play with fire.

They drove in silence for the first five minutes. “I've told you already, she's not a girlfriend. I mean, she was, but… She's not.”

Her eyes glimmered with amusement. “You can say that again.” Emily tugged the hem of her dress closer to her knees and began fishing around on the floor. “She certainly acted like she
thought
she was your girl, didn't she?”

I don't owe you any explanation. You can't even be civil!
“What are you doing?” he asked instead to change the subject.

Emily continued to dig around on the floor. “Trying to find my evening bag and shoe.”

“Your what? When did you lose those?” He pulled the truck to the curb and shifted into Park. Once the dome light was on, he joined the search.

“Sorry, but I wasn't thinking of my feet when you tossed me into the truck and slammed the door in my face.”

Kevin muttered under his breath when he realized he had no choice but to turn around and go back to Kristen's. When they arrived, they saw both items laying in the driveway. Glancing at the glowing windows to see if Kristen was looking, Kevin jumped from the cab, retrieved the dainty black bag and high heel, then returned to Emily.

“What would Kristen think if she found these? She already believes there's something between us,” Emily said with concern.

Kevin slipped the shoe onto her foot and set the purse in her lap, giving in to the temptation to flirt. He quirked his eyebrows and smiled. “I'd say she's a mind reader.” Emily yanked her foot away from his hand and turned away.

“Let's get you home, before anything else goes wrong.” He should have known better than to tease her—even after all these years.
The sooner I get you home the better.

Emily clutched her door when he spun the truck around, making it lumber over the bumpy curb. “We'd have been fine if you had taken me home first. Everyone would have been happy. I wouldn't have a concussion, Kristen wouldn't be furious with you, and you…well, you wouldn't be stuck here yelling at me over something I had no control over.”

“A concussion?”

She cleared her throat. “Okay, so I exaggerated.”

Kevin let out a deep breath, silently assessing her fall. “First of all, if there's a chance you have a concussion, we should take you to the hospital and have you checked out.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, impatient for Emily to say something.

“I don't need to go to the hospital.”

He wasn't about to leave her alone until he was sure she was okay. He'd had enough experience with injuries in college football to know the risks. It was too dark to tell much in the truck. It would have to wait until they got to her house.

“Second, I'm not concerned with how furious Kristen is. The only reason I called her is that Bryan insisted I should have a date.” This was his fault. He should have called Emily a cab. Not that he cared one iota that this definitely ended any chances with Kristen.

He had known seeing Emily tonight would be rough, but he hadn't expected it to be this bad. It was a constant battle to remind himself that there was no longer any use trying to make the stubborn doctor swoon. It was obvious that she was convinced the breakup was his fault. Thinking back, he guessed it probably was as much his fault as it was hers, but would she see it that way? He doubted it.

In the long run, the family business was gone along with the original proprietor. His family hadn't been the same since.

She reminded him to turn south on Main Street. A few blocks later, he pulled into her driveway and ran
around the truck to help her out. She stepped down, brushing him away. “I'm fine. I can see myself in.”

“I'll leave just as soon as I'm sure you're okay, and not a minute earlier. Besides, you haven't told me about Laura yet.”

Emily winced as she put her weight on her foot. She couldn't let Kevin see her limping or she'd never get him to leave. And the last thing she could handle tonight was Kevin MacIntyre playing nurse.

“I couldn't help but notice that you showed up with Dr. Walker. Are you and he…you know.”

“If it's any of your business, no, we're not!” Tempting as it was to make Kevin wonder, the thought of willingly allowing
anyone
to mistake her and Bob for a couple was out of the question. “I had a flat tire when I came out of the office tonight, and he gave me a ride.” She took a step, tentatively lifting the good foot. Her leg crumpled, and Kevin caught her. “It'll be fine. I probably just twisted it a little.”

“Yeah, yeah, it'll be good as new in a few days.” He offered an arm to lean on and helped her to the front door. She had no choice but to accept. “Where are your keys?”

She opened the tiny bag, but realized she'd forgotten to move the keys from her carry-all in her rush to avoid letting Bob into the house. She let out a sigh of frustration. “They're inside. I was in such a hurry, I forgot to move them to my evening bag.”

“Where's your extra key hidden?”

She closed her eyes and rubbed the lump on her head. “I don't know. I don't think I have one.”

“Any windows open?” he drilled impatiently.

She shook her head. “Too cold out.”

Before she could argue, he swooped her into his arms again and headed back to the truck, mumbling under his breath.

“Put me down, Kevin. I'm not going anywhere with you.”

“Are you going to play Casper the Ghost and go right through the door?” He stood by the truck and looked her in the eye. “You have three choices, Emily. I can leave you on the porch, I can call a locksmith, or you can come to my place for the night.”

“I don't think so!”

He laughed cynically. “I thought you'd see it my way. Now listen here, lady. You have a lump on your head, a sprained ankle and a very cold porch.”

“A sprained ankle? And what did you base your diagnosis on, Dr. MacIntyre?”

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 al
together?” 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.