Sweet Salvation (7 page)

This was the third time she’d seen him. What were the odds? She had decided he must work there, and between the expensive vehicle and perfectly tailored suits, she had assumed he was a doctor, or maybe one of the therapists, or possibly one of those high paid pharmaceutical reps. The last option had made her wrinkle her nose—
glorified salesmen.

No, scratch that. He was in scrubs, so he was definitely medical. She had watched as he locked his car and walked toward the far building. As he strode purposefully toward his destination, Stacy’s eyes eagerly gobbled up the sight of him. His shirt hugged him tightly across the shoulders, not bursting at the seams but tight enough so she could see that well-defined muscles—and lots of them—lay underneath. With his back to her, she also had a nice view of his tight butt in snug scrub pants. He was quite yummy, but before she could look her fill, he was gone. Her eyes flicked to the dash. It was 8:58, and she had two minutes to get inside.

Crap! Go figure.
Gawking at Wolverine eye candy, not a dad-burned panic attack, was going to make her late.

Looking back, it seemed that in addition to using her for WWE takedown practice, the sexy young doctor had a bad habit of making her late.

* * *

The sun had set by the time Jared arrived back at Stacy’s apartment. As he pulled into her lot, he glanced around with an objective in mind—her safety. Not a bad neighborhood, but it got a lot of noise from the I-75/I-696 interchange. There was also no security, which for a woman living alone was far from ideal. He’d take care of making sure she was safe and secure, for her sake as well as his own peace of mind. They were involved now, although she didn’t know it yet, but he’d see to that soon as well. There was something, be it fate or happenstance, that kept throwing them together. Although she’d irritated him today with the risks she’d taken with her knee, there was so much about her that pleased him. Not just her looks, which held great appeal, but her wit and grace, the way she challenged him even though he was more than twice her size, and her southern twang, which was charming and sexy as hell.

Using her keys to let himself in, he paused, letting his eyes adjust to the dimness of the apartment. Although approaching dusk, it was still light outside but the heavy drapes made her place dark as a tomb. In the quiet, he heard her soft breathing from the couch. Something rubbed against his leg. Looking down, he was surprised to see a fluffy white Persian winding leisurely around his ankles. Where had it been before? Of course, he should have pegged her for a cat person straight off. Not only because she was cute, graceful, and dainty, but because she was subtle, a bit mysterious, and had an independent streak a mile wide. Shaking his head ruefully, he quietly made his way to the kitchen and started their supper. Twenty minutes later the pasta was almost done with the sauce set on simmer, the French bread was in the oven on warm, and he was ready to wake her up.

“Georgia.” His first attempt didn’t penetrate and he tried again, laying a hand softly on her shoulder. “Stacy?”

“Mm… five more minutes.”

He chuckled. She sounded just like a kid asking her mom to sleep in. “It’s time to wake up, honey, dinner is ready.”

She rolled to her back and stretched a moment before her eyes flew open and she tensed. Her eyes darted quickly around the room, obviously confirming her surroundings before she pushed to a seated position. A grimace passed over her face as the movement jarred her injury.

“It’s going to hurt for a few days. I’m really very sorry.”

Her eyes flickered to his face and she frowned. “Who are you and what have you done with Jared Baker?”

She was referring to his surly behavior from earlier; not his best moment, he knew. “I’m sorry for being a grouch earlier too. I’m afraid I get that way when my patients don’t follow orders.”

“You mean you’re not usually bossy, autocratic and, oh yeah, a car thief?”

Although her message was clearly crabby, her tone was soft and husky from sleep, and the way she stretched like a contented kitten, warm and cuddly from a nap, was certainly not congruent with her sass. The confusing little cat had claws. When faced with his anger, she’d stood up to him and had given as good as she got. This he found amusing to a point, up until she’d placed her health at risk. He remembered the look on her face when he’d taken her keys. It was almost as priceless as the shocked look when he’d kissed her. Both were bold moves on his part, but he recognized a vulnerability in her that screamed for someone to take charge and take care of her. Not that she wasn’t doing all right on her own; she was a successful professional and showed the world a strong, capable exterior, but there was something underlying, an emotional frailty—maybe defenselessness was a better term—either way, it made the protective side of him emerge and he felt an instinctive need to care for and protect her. Still he planned to move cautiously.

“I brought the keys back and your Jeep was safe and sound in its space all day, so I’m only guilty on two of those counts.”

She snorted, evidently not awake enough to debate with him. Sitting up straight, she inhaled. “Something smells wonderful. You cooked?”

“Guilty of that as well. I hope you like Italian.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” She started to get up.

“Uh-uh! Where are your crutches?”

“I hate them. They hurt my arms and I’m about as graceful as a pup on a frozen pond.”

The image of a puppy scrambling for purchase on a slick icy surface made him chuckle. She had an interesting way of putting things.

“Crutches or I carry you, only two choices you get—doctor’s orders.”

“Hm… you seem to use doctor’s orders when you expect to get your way.”

He smiled as he bent and slid his arms under her, one at her back and her bottom. She squealed as he stood, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. Feeling her softness pressed against him turned his smile into a full grin. He was amazed that all those soft curves came in such a small package. She weighed next to nothing.

“You didn’t let me answer.”

“Nope.”

“Bossy.”

“I prefer assertive, decisive, confident… you’ll get used to it.” He set her down at the table set for two before going back to the couch for a pillow on which to prop her bum knee. After she was settled, he picked up a bottle of wine. “We’re having pasta, so I picked up a nice Sangiovese.”

“Okay,” she drawled slowly. “I don’t know what that is, but if it’s that wine you’re holding, I’ll try it as long as it’s sweet and red.”

He grinned at her. Flavored with sour cherries and an aged oaky flavor, the wine wasn’t exactly what one would call sweet. “Try it; if you don’t like it, I’ll get you some water.”

“I’m not much of a wine connoisseur. Give me a light beer or a fuzzy navel and I’m happy.”

“A peach wine cooler with spaghetti?” He made a face, wrinkling his nose in distaste as she laughed.

“Yeah, I guess that’s not too appetizing, huh?” she agreed as he went back to the stove, shaking his head.

“You look pretty comfortable in my kitchen, Dr. Baker.”

“Jared. Dr. Baker is my father as the old joke goes.”

“Your dad’s a doctor too?”

“Yes, as was my grandfather,” he answered as he served her, returning to fix his own plate before taking the seat to her right.

She was staring at the heaping mound of spaghetti and huge hunk of garlic bread.

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” she smiled, suppressing a laugh. “I was just thinking that this would feed me for a week.”

He looked at her plate and then his. “I automatically fixed you what I give myself. I could eat two of those plates, small fry.”

“Do you cook often?”

“Unfortunately, no, I eat out a lot.”

“No wife or girlfriend?”

“I’ve never found the former, but I’m working on the latter as we speak.” He was watching her closely and knew the moment his words registered. Her eyes widened in surprise and her cheeks blushed a becoming shade of pink. “I’ve been so busy with work lately; there hasn’t been much time for dating, let alone a relationship. How about you? I don’t see a ring, so I’m assuming no husband. Is there anyone special?”

“Shouldn’t you have asked that before you bought wine and cooked dinner?”

“Probably,” he grinned, “but I’ll admit I already know you aren’t married. I pulled your file and also asked Marcy.”

Shaking her head ruefully, she made a tsking noise, again suppressing a grin. “There’s that boundary issue again, Dr.—”

“Uh-uh,” he said, waggling his finger in warning tease.

“Jared.”

“Much better, but you haven’t answered my question.”

“Um, remind me…”

“I asked if there was anyone special.”

She lifted her wine glass in a saucy salute before answering softly, “Not yet, but I’m working on the latter as we speak.” She boldly gave his words back to him and he laughed when her face ignited and the blush morphed into a fiery crimson as it suffused her face. Then she promptly put her hands to her heated face and shook her head, avoiding his gaze. “For heaven’s sake, I can’t believe I just said that.”

“I can’t either, sweet Stacy, but I’m so glad you did.”

* * *

For the next two days Jared was there morning and night, helping her however possible. He brought coffee in the morning and got her settled on the couch for the day. He also brought a few magazines and the newest Nicholas Sparks book when he learned she was a fan. After making lunch and leaving it in the fridge, he kissed her goodbye and warned her to stay off her knee. He came back in the evening around six, made her dinner, and spent the evening chatting or watching TV.

There was a repeat performance on Friday, except instead of TV, he challenged her to a game of Scrabble. Once she’d outlawed medical terminology, Stacy had trounced him with ‘zany,’ earning forty-eight points on a triple word score.

Before he left, he explained that he’d recruited Marcy to check on her over the weekend because he was on call. The good news was that because she had been resting—and following doctor’s orders—the swelling had gone down significantly. He allowed her to be up periodically with her crutches but if the swelling returned, it was back to ice and elevation. Promising to check in by phone and a carryout dinner on Saturday, if his schedule allowed, he’d kissed her thoroughly before saying good night.

He was a perfect gentleman the entire two days. Except for the kisses, which had been mind-blowing, entirely too brief and left her totally dazed and disoriented, he hadn’t made any advances. He’d said he was working on getting a girlfriend. What happened to that? Once his pique with her had passed, he had proven to be charming, intelligent, possessing of a dry sense of humor, which she loved, and was fun. They chatted easily about work and common interests, which to Jared’s surprise included college football. Stacy had scoffed, reminding him she was from the south and southerners, both male and female, were diehard fans. That ignited a good-natured argument over which conference was superior, the Big 10 or the SEC. Of course, Stacy had won hands down. He had no argument against the seven national championships for the SEC in as many years.

They hadn’t argued since the day of her injury, except for when it came to her showering alone. He had insisted he be with her since she was unsteady, at least while getting in and out of the tub, which she had protested adamantly. She wasn’t sure where this relationship was going, but she was damn sure it wasn’t going there yet. He’d rolled his eyes, proclaiming that he was a doctor and saw naked women all the time. She had countered, stating ‘you haven’t seen this naked woman,’ going on to make the point that he’d ‘checked his professional boundaries along with his lab coat at the door the day he’d stolen her car keys and with each subsequent good-night kiss.’ The compromise was that Stacy, while wrapped in a towel, allowed Jared to help her in and out of the tub. In the end, she was glad he did, because she had slipped a bit and tweaked her knee. If he hadn’t been there to grab onto, she would have fallen and injured who knew what else. Naturally, he had growled and given her a long-suffering glare that said, ‘I told you so,’ loud and clear.

True to his word, he’d checked in by phone throughout the weekend, including getting updates from Marcy who he’d said was in charge by proxy. Although she had been briefly noncompliant the first day, she had followed his instructions to the letter ever since for two reasons: she needed to get back to work on Monday, and because she didn’t want to tick off Dr. Working on the Latter before she had a chance to see where things might go. The first, she had readily admitted to Jared. The second had been told to Marcy in confidence.

He dropped by Sunday evening with Japanese carry-out and to complete, in his words, a ‘final looksee’ before releasing her back to work. Her knee, which was considerably less swollen, also felt much better. It still had twinges and occasional sharp stabs of discomfort, but it was manageable. He’d given her the okay as long as she kept close to her desk and elevated it, and most important, promised to use her crutches for at least another week. She had agreed to all his conditions and been declared fit to return to work with restrictions.

That night when he’d kissed her goodbye, he let out the heat until she felt she was going to explode into flames. Holding nothing back, Stacy realized he hadn’t been giving all that he had in his previous kisses. His mouth devoured her until she lay breathless in his arms. Nibbling along her swollen lower lip, he teased her, nipping her tender flesh between his teeth and soothing the little sting with his tongue. After playing lightly for a bit, he kicked it up a gear, sealing his lips over hers, his tongue running along the recesses of her wide open mouth and driving deep as she surrendered to his possession. She was a defenseless recipient of his passion, easily giving ground and yielding all as he overwhelmed her senses. It was blissful. When he’d kissed her into such a state that she felt drunk on his kisses, he eased back, tapering his intoxicating kisses slowly. At long last, he raised his mouth and spoke softly against her lips, telling her what he wanted.