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Authors: Stephanie Bond

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BOOK: Baby, Drive South
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She shifted uncomfortably in the three-inch wide opening, trying to shield the suitcase from his view. “I’d rather you didn’t. Did you come up the stairs on your crutches?”

“Thought it would be good practice.” Then he made a rueful noise. “Guess I didn’t realize how much it would take out of me.”

Nikki felt contrite, then opened the door and waved him inside. But she left the door open as he settled himself, of all places, on her bed next to her suitcase.

An acrid aroma filtered into her lungs. “What’s that smell?”

“Oh.” He grinned. “It’s wintergreen oil. Doc Riley says it’s good for swelling and pain.”

After she’d given him legitimate medical care, he’d sought a second opinion from the resident aromatherapist? Nikki set her jaw. “So are the prescription medications I gave you.”

“I know, but the oil can’t hurt, can it?”

Nikki dabbed at the corners of her watering eyes. “Only the sensibilities of the people who have to be around you.”

His eyes danced. “I grow on people, kind of like this smell.”

Beyond frustrated by his mere presence, Nikki folded her arms. “What’s on your mind, Mr. Armstrong?”

He surveyed the full suitcase on her bed, then took in the one sitting next to her empty closet. “Going somewhere?”

She bristled. “I just haven’t unpacked yet. I’ve been busy, if you recall.”

He nodded. “Sorry about that. I really appreciate you patching me up, little lady doc.”

“I took an oath to ‘patch people up.’ You didn’t have to come all the way up here to thank me, Mr. Armstrong.”

He was glancing all around. “Nice room. Do you like it?”

She wet her lips. “Yes.”

“Any complaints?”

“Hot water would be nice.”

He looked offended. “There should be plenty of hot water.”

“Well, there wasn’t a drop when I took a shower.”

He pushed to his feet and hobbled to the bathroom on his crutches. “Are you sure? Did you turn the knob to the left?”

Nikki stuck her tongue into her cheek as he invaded what was supposed to be a private space. “You mean toward the big red ‘H’? Yes, I figured that one out.”

But he apparently didn’t believe her because he opened the glass shower door, reached in and turned on the water, twisting the knob all the way to the left. He leaned on one crutch, and stuck his large hand under the stream. Unbidden, Nikki’s thoughts went to being naked in the shower with this man. She gave herself a mental shake, and congratulated herself for making the decision to leave. The last thing she needed was a crush on a gorgeous man who made her feel bad about herself.

His frown deepened. “I calculated carefully for how many and the right size of water heaters to install. Up to two women in a room times ten gallons of water.”

“Ten gallons of water?” she asked, confused.

He nodded, then gestured to the fixtures. “We installed low-flow shower heads that deliver about eight gallons of water for a five-minute shower. I used ten gallons in the calculations to make sure there would be enough hot water for a hundred showers in a short period of time.”

He looked so proud of himself Nikki almost hated to burst his bubble. But when she could no longer hold it in, she laughed into her hand.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“I don’t know any woman who takes a five-minute shower.”

“Really?” He looked panicked, and in the space of a few seconds, Nikki realized how clueless this ladies’ man was about ladies. Obviously he had no sisters and had never been married, had never cohabitated with a girlfriend…and apparently, had never even taken a shower with a woman.

“Really,” she said, unable to hide her amusement.

He scratched his head. “This isn’t good.”

Nikki almost felt sorry for him…but didn’t. “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” She didn’t add she wouldn’t be around to observe the outcome. Nikki walked back to the main room and stood next to the open door, hoping he would follow. He did, slowly, navigating around the woven throw rugs on the bare wood floors. Every time he swung his body forward on the crutches, the thick muscles in his arms contracted.

Nikki had to avert her gaze.

He stopped next to her bed and leaned over, then used the rubber tip of his crutch to lift the muslin bed skirt. “Is your pussycat hiding?” he asked, craning his neck.

Nikki crossed her arms. “Goodbye, Mr. Armstrong.”

The hallway was filled with the sounds of the women leaving their rooms, presumably for the barbecue. Their voices were high-pitched, punctuated with giggles and the
click-clack
of sandals and high heels.

Porter glanced toward the hallway, then back to her with those piercing blue eyes. “Actually, doc, I came to ask if you’d walk down to the barbecue with me. I’m sorry for the things I said earlier—it was a bad joke. I’m really not such a terrible guy once you get to know me.”

Nikki hesitated, allowing her imagination to indulge in the fantasy of spending the evening “getting to know” Porter Armstrong. Any red-blooded woman would relish being in the company of this big, good-looking Southern boy for a few hours, and she was human. And the intensity of his kiss still teased her mouth like a mischievous shadow. But warning bells sounded in her head. That kiss hadn’t been intended for her—her mouth had simply been within reach. And she’d heard the man’s unflattering opinion of her when he thought she wasn’t listening. Her relationship with Darren had taught her to beware of charming kisses and the men attached to them…and Porter Armstrong had confirmed that lesson.

Reminded of her resolve to leave, Nikki lifted her chin. “No, thank you.”

Porter’s smile fell. He seemed to be at loose ends, obviously unaccustomed to being turned down, especially—she speculated—by someone who looked like her. It was probably more common for women to melt into a puddle of ooze at his feet. “Oh…okay.”

Suddenly Rachel Hutchins appeared in the doorway, with Nigel at her feet at the end of a pink leash. The woman was stunningly sexy in a short denim skirt and tight yellow T-shirt, her golden hair flowing around her shoulders. “I thought I heard your voice, Porter. What are you doing up here?” Her voice had a suspicious lilt. Even Nigel glanced back and forth between Porter and Nikki.

“Mr. Armstrong was checking the hot water in my bathroom,” Nikki said quickly.

“Oh, it’s perfect in my room,” Rachel gushed. “I took the longest, hottest shower. It was amazing.”

Porter seemed mesmerized. And since even Nikki was visualizing Rachel standing naked under a spray of steaming water, she could only imagine where his mind had gone.

“Rachel,” Nikki said brightly to interrupt the uncomfortable moment, “Mr. Armstrong is heading to the barbecue—maybe you could walk with him to make sure he doesn’t fall?”

Rachel beamed. “I’d be happy to.”

Porter took one swinging step forward, then looked back to Nikki, as if he suddenly remembered she was there. “Come with us, doc.”

“Maybe later,” she lied, shutting the door to move him along. He looked as if he might protest, but she succeeded in shepherding him into the hall and closed the door on the happy couple. Nikki stood with her ear to the door and listened until the
thump, thump
of his crutches meeting the floor faded. Rachel’s tinkling laughter reached back and curled under the door, mocking Nikki.
I’m just like you…only prettier
.

Nikki indulged a barb of envy, then sat down and penned a note to the Armstrong brothers saying she’d decided Sweetness wasn’t for her after all, and propped it on the table. When silence settled over the house, she gathered both pieces of luggage, opened the bedroom door and stuck out her head to make sure all was quiet. When she was convinced she was alone in the house, she carried her suitcases into the hall, closed the door and stole downstairs.

Moving stealthily, Nikki exited through the front door, crossed the shadowed porch and hurried in the direction of her extended van.

Darkness was settling quickly. A light high on a pole in front of the boardinghouse illuminated fluttering moths and guided her footsteps to the side of the road. Then she picked her way down the row of vehicles to her van. Insects chanted in rounds, the noises swelling, then falling away to build again. The unbearable heat of the summer day had given way to a breezy evening. She attributed the wide swing in the temperature to their altitude.

She swallowed hard at the thought of descending the mountain road with nothing more than her headlights and the glow of the three-quarter moon to guide her. Maybe she should wait until morning….

Across the road and beyond a tree line, voices, music and the radiance of a fire indicated the barbecue was getting underway. The good-time sounds pulled at her, but the suitcases in her hands propelled her forward. If she waited until morning, there would be confrontations, explanations, excuses…drama she didn’t want or need.

Especially when it came to a certain pair of cobalt-blue eyes.

After loading her suitcases in the back, Nikki climbed into the driver’s seat that was uncomfortably warm from the build-up of the day’s heat. She zoomed down the window to let the stale air escape.

In the side mirror, the amazing watercolor sunset was melting onto a distant mountain range. Nikki paused a few seconds to drink in the matchless scenery. If this town ever took root, it would blossom in the most glorious of surroundings.

Then, nursing a tiny pang of regret, she started the engine, turned the van around and pulled away.

8

F
rom a rocking chair in the shadows of the porch, Porter observed Dr. Salinger pulling away in her long van. Damn it, Marcus and Kendall had been right about her hightailing it back north at the first chance. Sneaking out when everyone was preoccupied, without so much as a “nice to know you.”

Truth be known, his feelings were a little hurt.

Porter pulled at his chin and waited, counting off the seconds the way he and his brothers used to do when they were little, trying to figure out how far away storms were by measuring the time lapse between a flash of lightning and a rumble of thunder.
One Mississippi…two Mississippi…three Mississippi…

The van’s brake lights came on before
four Mississippi,
then the engine sputtered and died.

Porter positioned his crutches and pushed to his feet. His leg was aching from crawling under the van to disconnect the fuel pump, but it was a quick way to safely disable the vehicle.

Marcus had charged him with keeping the little lady doc here. He hadn’t specified the methods had to be
aboveboard
.

The van slammed into Park, and the sound of the engine trying to crank floated on the evening breeze. By the time Porter reached the driver’s door, Dr. Salinger was banging on the steering wheel and cursing like a longshoreman.

“What’s up, doc?”

She startled and screamed, then turned her head to look at him through the open window. “You scared me to death!”

He grinned. “Sorry about that. Going some where?”

She opened her mouth, then seemed to cast about for a plausible explanation. “I…was just…exploring.”

He craned his neck to look over her shoulder into the backseat. “With your suitcases?”

She looked away, then back, and lifted her hands. “Okay, you got me. I was leaving.”

“I guess we didn’t make a very good first impression,” he conceded. He was struck by the perfection of her profile in the low lighting. The woman had exquisite bone structure. She was really quite pretty…not sexy by any stretch of the imagination, but pretty.

“I shouldn’t have come here in the first place,” she said quietly. “I…I don’t belong here.”

No surprise, he thought, Sweetness wasn’t good enough for her and her medical degree. “So you’re going back home?”

Her small hands tightened on the wheel. “If I can get out of here. I don’t know what’s wrong with the van.” She peered at the dashboard. “The gas tank is almost full and I bought a new battery a couple of weeks ago.”

“Let me take a look under the hood,” Porter offered magnanimously. “Do you have a flashlight?”

She rummaged in the glove compartment and came up with one. “Can I help?”

“Uh, no. Stay inside in case I need you to turn the key.”

He hobbled to the front of the vehicle, then made a big production of lifting the hood and putting the hood’s prop arm in place. He pinged the light around, pretending to inspect various pieces and parts, but craned in the direction of the barbecue site with longing. The voices and music were louder, beckoning. Damn, all those hot, single women were being sociable and he was stuck trying to convince the one woman who wanted to leave Sweetness to stay.

“Try turning it over now,” he called idly.

She did, but of course, deprived of fuel, the engine didn’t catch.

He tapped the flashlight on an engine support, then called, “Again.”

She turned over the ignition but again, nada.

After a respectable pause, he slammed down the hood and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Sorry. Looks like you’re stuck for a while.”

She thrust her head out the window. “What’s wrong?”

He shrugged, careful not to lie…too much. “Could be a lot of things. Hard to say in the dark. Best to have a mechanic take a look in the morning.”

Her jaw dropped. “In the morning?”

“Everyone is at the barbecue,” he said, jerking his thumb over his back toward the commotion through the trees. “Except us.”

She frowned. “I thought you were going with Rachel.”

As if he needed to be reminded that he’d had to cut the leggy blonde loose. “My ankle was hurting, so I told her to go on ahead. I was resting on the porch when I saw you sneaking out.”

“Did you take the pain pills I gave you?”

“Sure did.”

She climbed out and slammed the door. “I wasn’t sneaking out.”

“Do you need help with your suitcases?”

“You’re on crutches,” she reminded him, then opened the back door and yanked out her luggage. “Is it safe to leave my van sitting in the middle of the road?”

“It’s not like we have a lot of traffic.”

BOOK: Baby, Drive South
6.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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