The Groom (11 page)

“Hmmm,” Twila rumbled as she
bustled around the kitchen, watering the plants she insisted he needed to
brighten the space. Even they were boring; flowerless green things with no
shape or personality. “You sure?”

Damn, she was on to him. He
should have known she wouldn’t let it go that easily. He removed his glasses
and set them on the bar top before reluctantly meeting her gaze again. “Do you
think I’m uptight?”

Twila frowned. “Where’s this
coming from?”

Lyle shrugged. “Nowhere. Never
mind.”

Twila laughed. “Hold on now, I
don’t mind answering. It’s just that you’ve always seemed so confident. You’re
a man who knows who he is, and until now I thought you liked yourself this way.
What’s changed?” Her face softened and she sighed. “Is this about Holly?”

Lyle winced a bit; even hearing
her name was like a series of pinpricks to his heart. “In a way, yes,” he
admitted. “You’re right, I have been fine with my life the way it was. I never
saw anything wrong with it. At least, not until Holly left me at the altar and
I met . . .” he paused, not sure if he was ready to talk about Katrina yet.

Twila’s eyebrows shot up. “Met .
. .?”

He shook his head and changed the
subject. “How is it that a man who has access to just about everything, can
wake up one morning and suddenly realize that he’s really experienced nothing?
I thought I knew what I wanted, and I had everything planned out from now until
retirement. Now, all of that seems meaningless, and all I can think about are the
things I’ve never done, seen, or experienced.”

Twila sat down her watering
container and slid onto the stool next to him. “Oh, you aren’t the first man to
feel like this and you won’t be the last. Could be a midlife crisis. Could be
your reaction to Mr. Good Hair showing up at your wedding and stealing your
girl. Either way, a little change never hurt anybody. And by change, I don’t
mean that you should start wearing leather pants and riding around on a
motorcycle or anything. It’s all about the little things.”

Lyle smiled. “Like eating
cheeseburgers and walking in the rain,” he murmured.

Twila frowned. “What was that?”

He laughed. “Nothing. I see what
you mean.”

“This wouldn’t have anything to
do with that stunning Amazon woman that spent the night here, would it?”

“Twila.” Lyle’s voice was a low
warning.

She threw her hands up in
defense. “Okay, okay, I’ll back off. And for the record, you may be uptight,
but you are the kindest, most generous, and dedicated man I know. Holly missed
out, but that only means some other lucky girl gets her chance with you. Hell,
if I were a few years younger and a few pounds lighter, I might try my luck
with you.”

Lyle smiled. “You wouldn’t have
to try hard,” he teased. “Your omelets alone are enough to have a man at your mercy.”

Twila swatted at him playfully
and hopped down from her stool with a giggle. “Go on, you young stud. I’m too
old and set in my ways for another husband. Oh, and Lyle?”

Lyle paused in the middle of
donning his jacket over his shirt and tie. “Yeah?”

“Call her already. A girl like
her doesn’t seem like the type to wait around forever.”

He shook his head as she
disappeared into the bedroom. After sliding into his jacket and reaching for
his keys, he flipped through his phone’s contacts until he found Katrina’s
saved phone number. He smiled as he gazed down at her name.
I don’t make
plans
, she’d said. That was okay with him because he was done making them
too. The only thing he had planned for the day was a surgery and then a phone
call he’d been putting off for days.

Lyle rode the elevator down to
the ground floor and emerged with a spring in his step. He hadn’t felt this
good since proposing to Holly. Even then, he hadn’t felt as optimistic as he
did now.

The spring in his step took him
down to the curb where he hailed a cab to the hospital. It carried him down the
twisting corridors to the cardiothoracic wing where he quickly checked in on
Yolanda before heading toward his office. The girl’s stats were good on the
LVAD device and he was holding out hope that her new heart would come soon. As
much as he liked her, he wanted nothing more than to send her home and possibly
never see her again.

He faltered when he found Dan
outside his door, his expression grim. The blinds shielding his large windows
from the hallway were open to reveal a designer suit-clad woman inspecting the
award- and photo-lined shelves behind his desk. Lyle’s eyes widened as he
skidded to a halt, ducking around the corner and taking Dan with him.

“Nice to see you too,” Dan said
dryly, jerking his arm from Lyle’s grasp.

“What is she doing here?” Lyle
hissed, his voice a low whisper. He wasn’t sure if Vivian Cummings could hear
through walls, but he wouldn’t put the super sense past her.

Dan chuckled. “I didn’t exactly
ask her,” he replied. “She was here first thing this morning looking for you.
When I told her you weren’t here yet, she told me she would wait in your
office.”

Lyle cringed. “And you couldn’t
have found some way to get rid of her?”

“That’s your battle to fight,
man, not mine. I happen to adore my mother.”

“I don’t hate my mother.” While
that was certainly true, Lyle avoided the woman like the plague, mainly because
of her penchant for matching him with her friends’ daughters. When he became
engaged to Holly, all that had stopped, but her presence in his office now did
not bode well. He heaved a heavy sigh and checked his watch. He had only an
hour before his first procedure for the day, and he’d been hoping to use that
time to call Katrina.

“Might as well face the music,”
Dan said with a shrug. “It may not hurt to start dating again.”

Lyle shuddered at the thought.
The sort of woman his mother would fix him up with just didn’t appeal. Cold,
calculating, rich, stylish . . . she would be like a young clone of Vivian,
lacking all the warmth and joy he found so endearing about Katrina. But Dan was
right. His mother wasn’t going anywhere until she saw him. Experience had
taught him that she was nothing if not persistent.

“Get lost,” he grumbled as he
brushed past Dan, who was snickering like a schoolboy. “See you in the OR.”

“Tell Viv I said good-bye,” he
quipped just before Lyle slammed his office door in his face.

Vivian Cummings turned slowly to
face him from her place behind his desk. An appropriate expression of affection
flickered across her nipped, tucked, and Botoxed features as she rounded the
desk. A picture of wealth, class, and perfection, Vivian was a small and petite
woman, yet a force to be reckoned with. The angles and lines of her
cream-colored suit screamed money and good taste. Her platinum blonde hair was
twisted tightly at the back of her head, declaring a no-nonsense sort of
disposition. Her immaculate appearance was carried off from her unblemished
make-up to her perfectly manicured nails. Lyle bent to embrace her as she
patted his shoulders demurely and kissed the air near his cheek, careful not to
rumple her perfectly starched getup.

“Mother,” he said politely with a
tight smile. “How nice to see you.”

“Hmmm,” Vivian responded, eyeing
him critically as she circled him. “So you say. Still, your father and I have
yet to see you since . . .” She trailed off deliberately, raising one plucked
eyebrow at him.

Lyle cleared his throat and
rounded his desk, falling down into the leather chair with a sigh of
resignation. “I’ve been busy,” he said simply, pretending to flip through the
paperwork on his desk for something specific. “As I’m sure you have been.”

“Yes,” she responded as she
lowered herself into the chair across from him, running a hand over her smooth
updo. “Dousing the fires of scandal has kept me quite active.”

“Mother.” His tone was warning as
every nerve in his body stood on end at her purposeful needling. “If you have a
point, I’d appreciate if you got to it. I have surgery in an hour.”

Vivian shrugged fluidly.
“Honestly, Lyle, I would think after the long drive down here the least you
could do is pretend that you are happy to see me.”

He fought the urge to roll his
eyes, knowing full well that she’d taken the ride in the backseat of her
Bentley with martini glass in hand while her driver navigated the convoluted
city streets. “Of course I’m happy to see you. To what do I owe your visit?”

She gave him a condescending
smile and crossed her legs. “Your father and I are hosting a little cocktail
party this weekend, I thought it would be nice for you to come out of hiding
and join us.”

“I haven’t been hiding.” Not so
much as he had been avoiding everyone who had been to his debacle of a wedding.

“Really, darling, it is time to
show your face in polite society again. You mustn’t allow people to know that
you’ve been sulking about and brooding over a failed relationship.”

Lyle closed his mouth around the
retort lingering on his tongue. He had done a bit of sulking, but could
honestly say he hadn’t thought of Holly since the last time she walked out of
his apartment. The thought brought a tiny smile to his face.

“You know what? I think I will
come.”

Vivian stood and clapped her
hands gleefully. “Oh good. Your father will be so pleased. There’s someone he
wanted to introduce you to.”

Lyle stood as well and rolled his
eyes. “There it is.”

“It’s not what you think. She’s
heading up a charity organization . . . something to do with surgery for needy
people in impoverished countries. Seemed like something you’d want to know about.”

“Right, and I’m sure her long
legs and impressive pedigree are just a bonus,” he said dryly as he placed a
hand at the small of her back to usher her toward the door. She scooped her
purse from his desk, taking the not-so-subtle hint.

“Cut your father some slack,” she
said as they left his office and navigated the hallway toward the elevators,
“he just wants to see you happy.”

“Well, at the moment I’m not
un
happy,”
he retorted, “just ready to get down to business. I’ve got a full day’s work
ahead of me. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course,” Vivian relented as
they neared the elevators. She turned toward him and extended her arms for the
obligatory hug. “I’ll leave you alone now. Check your email for the party
information. Don’t disappoint me, Lyle.”

Lyle pecked her on the cheek
before pushing the down button for her. “I’ll be there, I promise. Tell Dad I
said hello. Oh, and Dan says good-bye.”

Vivian smiled and giggled like a
schoolgirl at the mention of his dark-haired friend. “That Dan is such a charmer.
You should bring him to the party.”

“Sure thing, Mother.”

The elevator doors slid open, and
Vivian swept in as if she were boarding a chariot. Lyle sighed and his
shoulders sagged with relief as the doors closed, feeling a good deal of
tension melt from his body the moment he was no longer within her line of
vision. He loved his mother and knew she meant well, but her methods left a lot
to be desired. Whoever this charity woman was, he had no doubt she was a part
of his parents’ plan to see him married and carrying on the prestigious
Cummings name with someone equally as important.

“Well, I see you came through
that relatively unscathed.”

“What were you doing, waiting for
me to come out so you can grill me?” Lyle snapped as Dan fell into step behind
him.

“I just so happen to have come
from checking on the children, for your information,” Dan retorted. “Thought
you might want to hit the coffee cart before surgery. We’ve still got a little
over half an hour before we need to scrub in.”

Guess that phone call’s going
to have to wait,
he thought as he and Dan navigated
the halls toward the surgical floor’s cafeteria, where the coffee cart was sure
to be surrounded by bleary-eyed doctors and nurses needing a pick-me-up.

“The interns are not our
children,” Lyle mumbled.

Dan shrugged. “Might as well be
for all the time I spend cleaning up their messes. Overeager and annoying,
that’s what they are.”

“Has it really been that long for
us that you’ve forgotten what it’s like?” Lyle asked with a chuckle. “We
haven’t had our training wheels off for that long, have we?”

“I hate to break it to you, but
soon they’ll be calling you grandpa. Or maybe great-grandpa once you take the
Chief of Surgery job.”

“I don’t intend to apply for that
job.”

“Because you’re a moron.”

“If you’re so worried about who
the next Chief of Surgery is going to be, why don’t you apply for it yourself?”

“You know, I just might. Hey,
when did we start having live entertainment in the cafeteria?”

_________

LYLE
STUMBLED OVER nothing as the lilting of an acoustic guitar and the rasp of a
sultry voice met his ears. Through the soft hum of conversation floating
through the large, open cafeteria, he almost hadn’t heard it. Now, of course,
it was all he could hear.

“Vanilla spice with a double shot
and extra whip,” he called to Dan over his shoulder, pulled toward the center
of the room by forces beyond his control. Dan muttered something in return, but
Lyle didn’t hear him, couldn’t have if he tried. His ears were tuned to the
soft chorus of “Put Your Records On”
by Corrine Bailey Rae, and his eyes
were locked on the cascade of curls swept up on one side of a mocha face and
pinned with a bright orange flower.

Her audience consisted of several
nurses, a few doctors, and a group of kids from the Oncology wing of the
surgical floor. They’d just come from doing arts and crafts with some local
volunteers who had long since packed up and gone home, leaving the children
with paper airplanes and birds, which they held in their laps as they sang
along, rocking from side to side, seemingly as mesmerized by the same radiant
smile holding him captive. There were other patients as well, those who were
mobile enough to make it to the cafeteria. Lyle spotted Yolanda near the edge
of the group, her new portable LVAD device hanging from its strap over her
shoulder. Her face was a bit flushed, but she seemed otherwise fine.

Katrina’s eyes met his and she
winked, a dimple appearing in her cheek as the smile widened. Lyle felt his
insides turn to mush and his blood heat in his veins at the simple gesture.
Warmth pooled low in his gut and an aching need gnawed on his insides. How was
it that she always seemed to be there when he needed her? The notion should
have scared him, but it didn’t; not the needing, or her innate sense of it.

Katrina ended the song with a
flourish, her infectious laugh ringing out as the kids held their last notes a
bit longer before exploding into fits of giggles. She stood and placed her
guitar back in its case, promising to return another day when she was met with
a round of pleas. The kids seemed content with her promises and hugs, and soon
the little audience dissipated. Lyle made a beeline for her.

“Would you believe me if I told
you I was just about to call you?” he asked once he was close. He couldn’t
resist reaching out to touch her, his fingers sinking into soft flesh as he
encountered her arm. She turned her mocking smirk on him and snorted.

“Hell no. You haven’t called me
all week, Doctor. I finally got tired of waiting and decided to come see what
keeps you so busy at this place.”

Lyle winced. “Sorry. Let me make
it up to you? I have a surgery in a few minutes but I’m free for lunch. I’ll
even let you pick where we eat.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Wow, you
really do want to make it up to me. All right then, you’ve got yourself a
date.”

“Aren’t you going to introduce me
to your friend?” Lyle leveled a glare at Dan, who appeared out of nowhere
holding two lidded coffee cups, one of which had his name scrawled across the
side in black marker.

Katrina smiled, oblivious to
Lyle’s annoyance. “Hey, have you been to Parson’s Bar and Grill before? You
look familiar.”

Dan thrust his coffee at Lyle and
turned the full effect of his charming visage on Katrina. “As a matter of fact,
I have. Friend of mine told me about this amazing, beautiful singer, and I
wanted to see what the fuss was all about.”

Katrina giggled. Lyle seethed.

“Dan, we really should be going.
Fifteen minutes.”

“Just a minute, Lyle. Wouldn’t
want to be rude to your lovely friend.”

“I’m used to it,” Katrina
quipped, shooting Lyle an impish glance. “This guy was rude enough to keep me
waiting for a phone call all week.”

Dan gasped and pressed his hand
over his chest in an obviously exaggerated motion. “The nerve.”

Lyle’s teeth ground together. “I
said I was sorry. And trust me, this guy’s no angel. Let’s go, Dan.”

Katrina laughed again and waved
them off, lifting her guitar case from the floor. “You guys go save lives. I’ll
find some way to entertain myself until lunchtime.”

“There’s a really comfortable
couch in my office,” Dan offered, his grin curling like a Cheshire cat. “You’re
more than welcome to it. Just ask someone where Dr. Ames’ office is and make
yourself at home.”

Lyle nudged Dan roughly, his
glower dark enough to cut glass. “Can it,” he grumbled before turning back to
Katrina. “I’ll be done by two. Is that okay?”

Katrina nodded. “Are you kidding?
This place is like a carnival. All I need is the keys to a nurse’s med cart and
I’m golden.” She laughed at Lyle’s shocked expression. “I’m kidding. See you in
a bit.”

She sauntered off, turning
several heads with the sway of her hips in jeans that fit like a second skin.

“Shut up,” Lyle warned as he and
Dan headed back the way they came, his voice a low growl. “Not a single word.”

Dan’s eyebrows shot up into his
hairline. “What? What could I possibly have to say about
that
?”

Lyle’s jaw tightened as he sipped
at his coffee. “I mean it, Dan. I’m not in the mood.”

“Seems like a guy could get in
the mood for her, if you know what I mean.”

“Damn it, Dan!” he roared,
grabbing his friend by the collar of his lab coat and shoving him against the
wall. “It’s not like that. She’s not . . . it’s not . . . shit.”

Dan laughed and shrugged him off.
“All right man, it’s cool. I’m just kidding. She seems nice. Hardly your type,
but maybe that’s a good thing.”

“Not my type?”

“Yeah, she seemed funny, sexy,
laid-back. Nothing at all like your other girlfriends, or Holly for that
matter.”

Dan was right and all that did
was remind him of the insecurities that had him flaking out on calling Katrina
all week.

“I like her,” he said softly as
they entered the locker room where they swiftly started changing from shirts
and ties to scrubs and caps. “I really do.”

“Is it serious?”

Lyle shook his head. “I’m not
ready for anything serious, and I don’t think she is either. But it’s not a
fling. We haven’t even really had a real date yet.”

“Well, whatever it is, enjoy it,”
Dan offered as he slipped into his sneakers and slammed his locker. “Lord knows
you deserve it. After that bitch Holly tore your heart out—”

“Don’t call her that. I can’t
defend what she did, but in the end it was better this way. I would rather her
leave me at the altar, than marry me and leave me later. Or worse, start having
an affair because she’s unhappy.”

Dan clapped him on the shoulder
as they left the locker room and headed to the scrub room adjacent to OR 3,
where their patient was prepped and being put under for surgery. “You’re a
gracious man, and a lonely one, which is why I say enjoy this thing—whatever
it is—as long as you can.”

Lyle held his hands up as a scrub
nurse bustled over to fit him with a gown and gloves, turning so she could tie
it at his back.

“I intend to,” he said, just as a
mask was slipped over his face.

“Good,” Dan answered, his voice
muffled by his own mask. “Then let’s get this done so you can get to your lunch
date.”

_____

Katrina stood, surrounded by the
silver, gray, and white starkness that was Lyle’s office, smiling at the photos
lining the bookshelf against the wall. In front of her was chronicled the life
of a man she barely knew. Photos of Lyle wearing khakis, starched shirts, and
ties—on the golf course with his friend, Dan, at a cocktail party with an
older couple she assumed were his parents—reminded her of just how
different they were.

What am I doing?
she wondered as she paused in front of his framed M.D. and Ph.D.
certificates. There was even a medical journal with his photo on the front and
the headline “The Cummings Method: Revolutionizing Cardiothoracic Surgery”
emblazoned across it, framed in a shadowbox. This man was out of her league,
and his perfectly ordered life wouldn’t mesh well with her chaotic one. For
crying out loud, she was dodging thugs in alleys and speeding cars on the
street. Nothing romantic about that.

But,
she thought, her heart melting as the door opened and Lyle appeared
in the frame,
he’s so dreamy.

He paused in the doorway, his
glasses dangling from the neckline of his forest green scrub top. He looked
tired but satisfied, and Katrina guessed his surgery must have gone well. His
wide shoulders stretched the material of the scrub top before it fell loosely
over his lean waist. Her gaze traveled over endless legs before shooting back
up to his eyes, which were crinkled at the corners with amusement as he watched
her with the same intensity with which she was watching him. She shivered as
his eyes caressed her skin.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting
too long,” he said as he came into the room, allowing the door to slide closed
behind him.

“For a phone call, or for you to
come out of surgery?” she quipped, causing him to blush. He was so adorable
when he was embarrassed. She came from behind his desk and perched on the edge
of it. “I’m all for letting you make it up to me,” she added with a grin.

Relief flooded his features as he
came forward, bracing his hands on either side of her, gripping the edge of the
desk. He smelled clean, like she imagined a doctor should, but also carried a
hint of his own scent—a very spicy scent that made her want to lean into
him.

She did.

“I’m sorry.” He leaned in closer
and his nose brushed hers. His breath tickled her cheek. “I haven’t stopped
thinking about you since that night at the diner.”

Katrina braced herself on the
desk, her chest heaving and coming dangerously close to brushing his as her
breath sped up. It was good to know she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t stopped
thinking about that kiss. Her lips tingled at the memory.

“I thought—” he began, and
Katrina cut him off with a finger over his lips before he could continue.

“See, that’s your problem,” she
whispered, her fingers lingering over the soft pillow of his lips. “You think
too much. Don’t think.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, his voice
growing husky as he closed the distance between them, bracing one of his hands
at her back as he lowered his head toward hers. Before she could stop it, a
whimper rose from low in her throat, answered by a low, masculine sigh as he
crushed her against him. The anticipated contact between his chest and hers
sent shudders through her as her nipples leaped to attention against his corded
pectorals. The slow slide of the sensitive tips against the fabric of his
scrubs increased the tension to diamond hardness, a startling contrast to the
rest of her, which had gone pliant and limp in his arms.

The heat of his skin seared her
to the bone as his tongue probed for entrance to her mouth, sliding against
hers with painfully exquisite smoothness. Soft tendrils of his hair fell over
his forehead and brushed hers, sending tingles across her face that ended in
jolts of electricity on her lips and tongue.

“Katrina,” Lyle groaned as he
laid her back on the desk, his hands tangling in her hair and fisting tightly
around the coils. Katrina sighed in response. She was incapable of putting
voice to what she was feeling as his lips lingered over hers, gently brushing
searchingly as his tawny eyes burned into hers.

Her relationship with Alessandro
had been volatile. The sex had been explosive, but their emotions had run on a
constant high, varying from intense lust to even more intense discord and back
again. Being with him had left her exhausted and wrung dry, battered like a
ship in a raging storm, broken and in pieces.

With Lyle, she felt a sense of
inherent rightness. He balanced her in a very unexpected way. So much of her
life had been pure chaos that she never would have imagined Lyle’s steady
presence would call to her so strongly. It was the quiet strength she’d seen in
him, that she felt as he cradled her in strong arms, that drew her to him. If
she was the battered vessel, then he was her anchor, her salvation, her light
at the end of a very long and dark tunnel.

She lost her grip on coherent
thought when he leaned down, burying his face in her hair near her ear and
inhaled deeply. His exhale came out on a blissful sigh that tickled the shell
of her ear with a warm current of air.

“I love your hair,” he whispered,
propping himself up on his elbows to gaze down at her as he lifted a handful of
the strands to his nostrils again. “It smells like . . . a tropical island.”

Katrina giggled. “I smell like
Hawaii?”

Lyle’s mouth turned up at the
corners, but the heat in his gaze intensified as he twirled one of the wild
curls around his index fingers. “Like coconuts and pineapples and the ocean,”
he said, his voice gone raspy as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. His lips
brushed over one eyebrow in a feather light caress. “It makes me want to stay
here, with you all day, to dive into you and never come out again.”