to make her blush or stammer or act like an idiot—which she’d done more times than she cared to remember.
But there was none of that now. No mockery. No triumph.
Nothing.
“You asked me if I was okay,” she said slowly. “But I feel like I should ask you. Are you—”
“Terrific.” He turned away as the house shuddered under the cruel weight of the wind. “Listen, if we’re going to do this, we should get moving.”
“You think it’s going to get worse?”
“Yeah, I do. They’re calling for two feet of rain.”
“But flooding? Here in Santa Rey?”
“Flash floods can happen anywhere. I should know, I’ve seen just about every one of them here in the U.S. in the past twelve years.” Once again he eyed her scrubs. “You’re not dressed for this.”
“No, I came from work. I’m a nurse in the E.R.”
“Why aren’t you a doctor?”
“Long story.”
“How about the Cliff’s Notes version?”
The Cliff’s Notes version was that the world had kicked her ass. Period. She could tell him so, but she didn’t like to admit it out loud. “It’s not important now.” Especially since she still had that dream out in front of her, starting this fall, when she’d enroll in UCLA medical school.
He looked as if maybe he wanted to press the issue, but in the end he simply said, “Do you have a medical bag with you? In case Cece’s in labor?”
“As of last night, she wasn’t, but yes, I do. In my car.”
“And food?”
“Maybe a protein bar or two. Why?”
“Because I’m starving.” He crouched before a large duffel bag on the floor, which he began rifling through.
She stared at the sleek, smooth muscles in his back, wondering what had happened in the military to erase the happy-go-lucky jock she’d once known. Back then she’d spent hours and hours going over all the what-ifs when it came to him. What if he noticed her? What if he realized she was the woman of his dreams?
What if…
She’d gotten a lot of mileage out of it all, especially in the deep dark of the night. But in the face of his calm, steady assertiveness, all those what-ifs seemed so very long ago and so very childish. She had only one what-if right now, and that was what if Cece wasn’t okay? “You’re really going to take me over there.”
“As opposed to sitting on my ass when I know you’re worried? Yes, Lizzy, I am.”
Okay, now she’d insulted him. Interesting that she could.
She really wished Dustin had been here, Dustin who was so easygoing and laid-back and sweet…“Cristina said your brother’s at work.”
“Then you really are stuck with me, aren’t you.” Rising with a pair of jeans in his hand, he settled his calm, quiet eyes on her as his long fingers pulled up the denim. The act seemed shockingly intimate.
Ridiculously so, given that he’d just been standing there in far less. The jeans were loose and clearly beloved old friends, sinking low on his hips as he began to button them up. Stopping halfway, he slid his hand inside to…adjust, and as she watched, she felt her face heat. “I’ll just…” What? She had no idea so she stood there like an idiot, tongue practically hanging out.
“You’ll…?”
“No idea,” she whispered, giving up.
Seeming amused as he finished buttoning, he gave her a glimpse of the younger Jason she’d once known.
Again the house shuddered, and she braced. The sound of the driving rain was relentless as he pulled a T-shirt on over that torso, which could have been on the cover of any fitness magazine. He added an old hooded sweatshirt to his ensemble, then crouched again to dig through his bag for socks.
Then he turned and eyed her scrubs.
She knew they were unflattering, not to mention wet from her dash from the car, and clinging to her. “Those won’t work,” he said, and tossed her some clothes. “These are dry.”
She caught them to her. “I’m not going to take your things.”
“Yes, you are,” he said in the quiet authoritative voice he probably used on the job and had people jumping to obey him.
But it didn’t move her to follow his order as much as it…excited her. Yes, she was that badly off that a quiet, confident, masculine voice could excite her.
She really needed to get sex more often. Too bad she tended to self-destruct her relationships. She looked out the window. Daylight was trying valiantly to break through. The rain was still coming down so thickly it looked like a virtual sheet of water pouring from the sky. “Changing isn’t going to help for long.”
“You’re shivering.” He also tossed over a set of rain gear. “You won’t be any good to me out there if you’re not at least warm.”
She wouldn’t be any good to him? “Okay, now just a minute. I—”
“Your sister isn’t the only one who might be in trouble, Lizzy. I can guarantee it. We might run into people out there who need our help. You’re going to want to be able to give it. Where exactly does Cece live?”
“Third and Cove. Problem is they’re evacuating Eastside because the flooding is already bad.”
“Then we need to hurry.” He straightened and looked at her. Waiting.
Oh, no. No, no, no. Hell to the no was she was going to change right here in front of him. Sure, there’d been all those times when she’d secretly—very secretly—dreamed about such things, but those days were long gone.
So long gone.
This man, with his steely, unreadable eyes and grim mouth, with his big, tough body braced for whatever came his way, wasn’t the stuff of girlhood dreams.
He was all man.
Complicated, edgy man, and no longer someone she fantasized about.
And maybe if she kept saying that, she’d believe it. “Fine. I’ll change.”
At that, he gave her his full attention, his entire body emitting so much testosterone she could hardly lock her knees. “Not right here, of course,” she corrected coolly, and stiffening her traitorous knees, she stepped around him, heading down the hall to his bathroom, shutting the door behind her.
She forced herself to shake off the sensual haze and turned to stare at herself in the mirror, sucking in a breath at the sight that greeted her.
Flushed
