Healing Dr. Fortune (5 page)

But if truth be told, he wanted to get to know her a whole lot better—starting tomorrow.

 

The next day, while Max was out pounding the pavement again and Anthony napped in the Portacrib that served as his bed, Kirsten decided to spend the quiet time unpacking some of the boxes she'd been storing in the hall closet, a chore she'd been putting off ever since she'd moved into the house.

She'd just pulled out a box filled with college text books that she hadn't wanted to get rid of, but as she looked through them now, she realized it was silly to
keep them. They took up so much space—and they were heavy, too.

Maybe she could donate them to the library or sell them on eBay. As she considered her options for disposing of them, the doorbell rang.

She had no idea who it could be on a weekday afternoon. It was probably a salesman. She'd ignore the person at the door completely, but she was afraid that whoever it was might ring again. And a second chime could wake up the baby, who'd just gone down for a nap and should sleep for a couple hours.

So she got up from the floor, where she'd been kneeling before the box of books, and answered the door.

When she spotted Jeremy on her porch, wearing a pair of black slacks, a pale blue polo shirt and a dazzling smile, her breath caught.

“I hope you don't mind me stopping by unannounced,” he said.

Her only concern about his impromptu visit was that it hadn't given her a chance to run a brush through her hair, to put on some lipstick and to change into something other than a UT San Antonio T-shirt and a comfy pair of frayed denim jeans.

But she shook off her momentary embarrassment and said, “Not at all.” Then she stepped aside and let him in.

Needless to say, she was surprised to see Jeremy, but the two white bags he carried left her especially curious about why he'd stopped by—in spite of her being glad that he had.

Once she closed the door, she asked, “What's that?”

His eyes glimmered with mirth. “I owed you dessert, remember? So I hope you're hungry.”

“You brought
dessert?
” She laughed. “I wasn't going to hold you to it.” Again, she studied the bags, awed by the gesture. “What did you do? Buy out a bakery?”

“I didn't have to go that far. I just called Bernardo's and ordered takeout of every dessert they have on the menu, including the chocolate soufflé, which is still warm and supposed to be their specialty.”

And he'd brought all of it to
her?

His efforts were both adorable and mind-boggling. Was this what dating Jeremy Fortune was going to be like?

Not that they were dating, exactly.

Oh, no?
a small inner voice asked.
And just what
would
you call it?

“Come with me,” she said. “I'll get some plates and forks.”

He followed her into the small kitchen, where her dinner simmered in a Crock-Pot on the counter, filling the room with the aroma of chicken and vegetables.

“Where do you want me to set this up?” he asked.

Still amazed at his presence, as well as his gesture, she suggested he spread it out on the table, then asked, “Should I put on some coffee? Or would you rather have milk?”

“I'll have whatever you're having.” He set the bags on one of the chairs, then proceeded to pull out take-out containers filled with tiramisu, cheesecake, cannoli, a
fruit tart, biscotti, fresh berries and what had to be the soufflé he'd mentioned. “I hope you don't mind, but I decided not to bring the gelato. I was afraid it would melt before I got here.”

“Believe me,” she said, “I don't think we're going to miss the ice cream.”

Within minutes, her table looked like a dessert buffet at a wedding. When Jeremy took a step back and smiled at his handiwork, she laughed. “You must have a real sweet tooth, Dr. Fortune.”

“I do. But I was also a Boy Scout, and we were taught to be prepared.”

“For what?” she asked, chuckling. “A sugar embargo?”

“I wanted to make sure I had whatever you would have ordered last night.”

“I probably would have just asked for a bite of what ever you were having,” she admitted. What in the world were they going to do with all these goodies?

“Why do women do that?” he asked. “Just ask for a bite when they'd like the whole thing?”

“Because it's a way to diet and have our cake, too.” But if Kirsten had any ideas about counting carbs or calories today, she was going to be toast. Because she wanted to try a little of everything he brought.

While she put on a pot of coffee, she couldn't help but wonder just how far a man like Jeremy would go for a woman he cared about, and a smidgen of envy stirred in her heart.

If he didn't have ties to Sacramento, if he was settled here in Red Rock…

As the water began to gurgle and dribble into the carafe, she realized that he'd certainly gone out of his way for her today. Did that mean he cared about her in spite of the reasons a long-lasting relationship between them wasn't feasible?

Or was she just a date he was trying to impress?

No, that couldn't be it. The man was impressive enough in his own right and didn't need to play games like that. Any woman would be lucky to have caught his eye, even if it was just a temporary thing.

After Jeremy set out the plates, silverware and napkins, he wandered over to the Crock-Pot and peered through the glass lid. “Boy, this sure smells good.”

“It's just a little something I threw in for dinner.”

A part of her wanted to invite him to stay, but Max was so unpredictable these days. She never knew what he'd say or how he'd act. And she wasn't up for the stress.

Not when she was hoping this “temporary thing” with Jeremy would last longer than a date or two. So she decided to let the whole thing ride.

When the coffee was finished, she poured two cups.

“How do you like yours?” she asked. “Cream? Sugar?

Both?”

“Black, thanks.”

She added a bit of skim milk and artificial sweetener to hers, which was clearly a waste of time considering the sugar and calories they were about to consume, but she
wasn't going to blink an eye at the indulgence. Instead, she joined him at the table.

He took his fork and cut into the tiramisu, then offered the bite to her. “Here, try this.”

She opened her mouth, letting him feed her. The sweet, gooey taste was mesmerizing, but she was more awed by the fact that he was spoon-feeding her.

Could anything be sexier than that?

Yes, she realized. If they were feeding each other in bed after making love all afternoon.

“What do you think?” he asked.

About feeding each other in bed? She forced herself to focus on the taste of the tiramisu instead. “It's delicious.

You're going to have to try it, too.”

Then she reached for a fork, filled it with a man-size portion, and offered it to him. As he opened his mouth, something wild and exciting rushed through her—set ting off a vision of the two of them sitting amid tangled sheets, romantic music on the radio, feeling both sated and hungry at the same time…

Enough of that, she told herself. She'd be hungry for a lot more than sweets if she wasn't careful. So she cut into a cannoli—were they really going to keep feeding each other?—and lifted the fork to his lips, offering him another taste and leaving a bit of whipped cream at the edge of his mouth.

She reached out and wiped it away with her finger, but as their gazes locked, his hand grasped her wrist and her movements froze. As his face leaned toward hers,
time slowed to a crawl and anticipation filled her to the brim.

If she'd thought their last kiss had been breathtaking, she had a feeling that this one would be all that and more.

And she was right.

As their lips met and parted, his tongue swept inside her mouth, sending a heated rush to the most feminine part of her. She reached toward him, her fingers snaking through his golden-brown locks, drawing him closer and deepening the kiss.

Passion flared, rocking her to the core. She couldn't seem to get enough of him or his sweet, creamy taste. And she realized that if he took her hand, drew her to a stand, swept her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom, she wouldn't have stopped him. She wouldn't have even considered it.

How could anything that started out so sweet and innocent burst into all-consuming desire?

When the kiss finally ended—she wasn't even sure who had come up for air first—her mind scrambled to get a grip on both her hormones and her emotions.

What was going on between them?

Was he feeling it, too—the heat, the passion?

“I didn't come over here to take you to bed,” he said.

She almost wished that he had. And while she knew she ought to say something, her heart and mind were still spinning out of control.

As she tried to gather her wits, which seemed to be a
real struggle at the moment, a response to his comment failed her.

“You look a little uneasy,” he said.

Heavens, no. She was just a little stunned and shaken, that was all. If this was what his kiss did to her, what would making love with him be like?

“I…” She caught herself before she ended up rambling about how deeply that kiss had affected her, how badly she wanted to share another—and anything else he had in mind. “It just took me by surprise.”

“I'm sorry if I was out of line.”

“Oh, no. Not at all. It's just that…” She struggled for a moment over how to continue, but why beat around the bush and play games? Opting for honesty, she said, “Well, it was a little earthshaking.”

Surely, he'd felt it, too.

A grin splashed across his face. “I'd have to agree with you there.”

This was probably the time to invite him to stay to dinner, but as the baby cried out, announcing naptime was over and drawing her back to reality, she couldn't bring herself to do it.

“I…uh…better get Anthony,” she said. “He's going to want a bottle.”

Talk about lousy timing.

But maybe it was for the best. What she'd just shared with Jeremy had been the kind of thing that dreams were made of. And a fussy baby was sure to put a king-size damper on that.

So could a surly brother, who might walk in at any time.

“Is there something I can do to help?” Jeremy asked.

“Not that I can think of.” How could she ask him to fix a bottle of formula or to check on Anthony and see if his diaper was wet—or
worse?

Talk about being jerked out of the dream world and thrust into reality.

“I've got it,” she said, as she excused herself to get the baby.

She just hoped that when she returned, Jeremy wouldn't decide that dating her wouldn't be worth the real-life complications she was sure to toss into the mix.

J
eremy had never been so turned on by something as simple as a kiss before, especially one in which he and the woman had been fully clothed and seated at a kitchen table.

As Kirsten went into the other room to get the crying baby, he watched the alluring sway of her denim-clad hips, the swish of her honey-brown hair across her shoulders.

She had some kind of a hold on him, although he'd be damned if he knew what it was, and it only seemed to be growing stronger.

He didn't believe in love at first sight, so he knew it wasn't that. Hell, he'd barely had a chance to get to know her, to talk about some of the meatier subjects in life. So
whatever he was feeling had to be strictly biological—a mixture of lust, hormones and chemistry.

Or was it more than that?

Either way, there was no getting around the fact that Kirstin would be a dynamite lover. Two kisses had convinced him of that.

So now what? His visit had clearly taken an unexpected turn, and he wasn't sure whether he should stay or go.

He'd clearly surprised her by showing up at her house this afternoon, and while she'd been elbow-deep in some domestic chore and not wearing any makeup to speak of, it hadn't mattered one bit. He still found her beautiful, as well as intriguing. Maybe even more so now.

When she returned to the kitchen with Anthony, he watched as she cuddled the hungry baby while preparing to feed him.

“Need some help?” he asked, even though she seemed to be juggling the infant, a bottle of water and a scoop of powdered formula as if it was all in a day's work.

“Thanks, but I've got it. I have a system that seems to work, even when I'm home alone.” She laughed, the lilt of her voice a pleasant sound that played havoc with his senses. “But you should've seen me when Anthony first arrived. I was so inept with this little guy that it was almost funny.”

Jeremy found that hard to believe. She certainly looked like a pro as she settled into the kitchen chair and placed the nipple in the baby's mouth.

Anthony quickly latched on and began sucking as though it might be the last bottle he'd ever get.

“Goodness,” she said. “Would you look at him go?”

Jeremy was looking all right, but at the whole picture of woman and child. Kirsten was a natural, and he couldn't help picturing her holding
his
baby.

And why would he do that?

He'd never had visions of himself as a father before. Not that he didn't want kids—his life had just been too busy, too complicated, too focused on his medical practice. For as long as he'd been in Sacramento, he hadn't been able to think much beyond the next patient, the next X-ray or the next surgery.

But for some crazy reason, when he was with Kirsten, his entire focus shifted to another level. There was just something about her, about being with her, that made him feel…different.

In some ways, she reminded him of his mom, and he wondered if Kirsten had a playful side, too.

Molly Fortune had adored her five sons, but she hadn't been a pushover. She'd made them each toe the mark. Still, she'd known how to play with them, how to laugh and enjoy their company. And that had made for a happy childhood and a heart filled with memories.

Would Kirsten, like Jeremy's mom, be the playful kind of mother who would help her kids build a tree house in the backyard? Would she lead a Cub Scout troop? And on rainy days, would she help them build a fortress in the living room out of sheets and blankets?

Not all mothers would.

And why should it even matter?

Hell if he knew. Although he suspected that it might be due to the fact that he'd been so studious in school, so driven to get a medical degree, so focused on his career, that he was finally ready to kick back, have some fun and enjoy himself for a change.

Before his mom had died, she'd taken him aside and said, “I'm glad to see you working so hard, honey. But I worry about you. There's so much more to life than work. You really need to take time to play.”

Jeremy hadn't taken her seriously at the time, but he wished he had. Her words were just now beginning to sink in.

He watched Kirsten for a moment or two longer, then asked, “Can you get a babysitter on Friday night?” He wouldn't just assume that Max would be around every evening.

“That won't be a problem. Why?”

“I'd like to take you out.”

“All right.” She smiled, letting him know that the suggestion appealed to her.

“Dress warmly,” he said.

Her eyes lit up. “Okay. Where are we going?”

He was just about to tell her, then decided to keep it to himself. “It's a surprise.”

A grin splashed across her face. “I love surprises.”

Apparently, so did he. Because picking up Kirsten and whisking her off on a fun-filled adventure suddenly sounded like one of the best ideas he'd ever had.

 

As Max bent over and peered into the refrigerator, looking for a soda, he scrunched his face at all the take-out containers. “What the heck is all this crap doing in here?”

“It's not crap,” Kirsten said, as she stood near the sink and poured out the remaining coffee from the carafe. “It's leftover dessert.”

He pulled a cola from the fridge and popped the top. “Left over from what?”

“Jeremy had to cut our date short last night, and since we weren't able to stay long enough to eat dessert, he brought all of that by this afternoon.”

“You've gotta be kidding.” Max slowly shook his head, still standing in front of the open refrigerator. “Don't you think that's a little over-the-top?”

Actually, she thought it was sweet. But it was clear that Max wouldn't agree. So choosing not to argue, she ignored the fact that Jeremy's visit and thoughtfulness had struck a raw nerve in her brother and asked, “Do you want some cheesecake? It's really good.”

“I don't want any of that stuff.” Max slammed the refrigerator door a little too hard. “I still haven't figured out what that guy's up to.”

“He just came by to see me, that's all.”

Max chuffed and slowly shook his head.

“Obviously, you don't like him.” Kirsten crossed her arms and braced herself for whatever unfounded objections Max might have. “Why is that? He's an orthopedic surgeon. And a darn good one, from what I've learned
by doing a Google search. On top of that, his family is not only well-known, but well respected in Red Rock. Have you ever heard of the Fortune Foundation?”

“Who hasn't?” Max leaned against the refrigerator. “Those people think they own the town.”

If Kirsten had a violent streak and lacked self-control, she might have punched her brother's lights out. As it was, she disposed of the old coffee grounds and rinsed out the carafe.

“Open your eyes,” Max said. “That guy's just trying to snowball you, sis. And, apparently, it's working.”

Kirsten shut off the water, set the clean carafe on the counter and turned to face him. “What are you talking about?”

“He's just trying to score, that's all. I heard that he's only visiting in town. He's going to be moving away soon, and then where will that leave you?”

Kirsten might be dating Jeremy, but that didn't mean she would shut down her radar and jump into a relationship that wasn't in her best interest—at least, not knowingly. She also knew that a lot of men weren't looking for something permanent and long-lasting, that some of them only wanted sex. Shoot, she'd met a couple of them and had been disappointed enough times to take things slow and to be careful.

She was also fully aware of the fact that Jeremy would go back to Sacramento one of these days.

But she was a big girl and didn't need her brother telling her what to do.

For Pete's sake, his own radar had certainly been
faulty or nonexistent when he'd first hooked up with Courtney. But rather than let him draw her into another argument that was sure to escalate without solving any thing, she decided to calmly end the conversation and put him in his place.

“Jeremy and I are friends,” she said. “But even if we were more than that, I'd like to remind you that this is my house and that I'm a responsible adult.”

Max's face reddened and he pursed his lips. Kirsten had never seen steam come out of anyone's ears before, unless it had been in a cartoon on television, but she wouldn't have been surprised to see little cloudlike puffs coming out of her brother's head.

What did he have against Jeremy?

The first time they'd met, Max had scowled all the way home from the medical center. And he'd clearly been a grump when she and Jeremy had left the house to go to Bernardo's last night.

Now this. You'd think Max was a jealous boyfriend rather than an overprotective brother. And quite frankly, he was pushing her to her limit. If it weren't for Anthony, she'd ask him to pack up and move out tonight. As it was, she bit her tongue.

But living with Max was
so
not working.

“You were out of line for entertaining him at the house when Anthony was in the next room,” he added.

“Excuse me?”
Her voice rose a couple decibels in spite of her determination to remain cool and in control.

“You're overreacting.” She blew out an exasperated sigh.
“Anthony is an infant, and he was sleeping for most of the time.”

Again, she wanted to remind her brother that she was an adult. And that he was…

Heck, who even knew what he was. For a twenty-six-year-old man, acting mature seemed like a real struggle for him some days.

“Did you kiss him?” Max asked.

Before responding and putting her brother in his place, she took another calming breath, then slowly let it out. “That's none of your business.”

He remained silent for a while, as though her words had finally sunk in. Then he said, “I'm sorry, Kirsten. You're right.”

His acquiescence surprised her, and she waited for him to interject a “but” to the conversation.

Instead, he said, “I guess I was out of line.”

He
guessed?

“It's just that I don't like to be reminded that you're the responsible one, when I've been trying my best to find a job—
any
job. And to make matters worse, I've got a lot on my mind.”

She sighed. “I know you do. Having another human being who is dependent upon you must be stressful, especially while you're out of work.”

“It's not just that…” He paused, as if trying to find the words to explain what was really bothering him and why he'd been lashing out at her and Jeremy.

“Then what is it?” she asked. Was her brother missing Courtney? Was he feeling badly that Kirsten might be
involved in a budding romance when his own relationship with the mother of his son had fallen apart?

Finally, Max said, “I've got things to deal with that you wouldn't understand.”

“Share them with me. Let me help. We're family.”

He clammed up, refusing to elaborate any further.

She could have prodded him, she supposed. He was clearly bothered by something and lashing out at her because of it. But spending so much of her energy sympathizing with Max was getting old, and she was just plain tired of dealing with all the problems resulting from his bad decisions.

For as long as she could remember, she'd been both mother and father to him, a role that was slowly wearing her down, especially since Max had such a bad attitude about anything she did or said to help him—unless it was handing him cash in silence.

She would have to resort to tough love again, which had worked well in the past, but now there was the baby to consider.

It was comforting to know that Max had taken on the responsibility of fatherhood, but that didn't stop her from worrying.

As much as she'd tried to convince herself that he was able to handle the baby on his own, she had to admit that she had her doubts.

 

At a quarter to noon the next day, Jeremy was reviewing an X-ray of an elderly patient. He tried to focus on the scans before him, but in the back of his mind, he
couldn't help thinking about Kirsten and wondering if she'd like to have lunch with him.

They had a date tomorrow night, something sure to surprise her, but he wanted to see her sooner than that. So he picked up his cell phone and gave her a call.

She answered on the second ring, and when he told her what he had in mind for today, she said, “Lunch sounds great, but Max is out job hunting again, and I've got Anthony.”

“Then why don't I bring the food to you?” he asked.

He could almost hear the smile in her voice. “I'd like that, Jeremy.”

“How about turkey sandwiches?”

“That's perfect. I'll have beverages to choose from, some fruit and…” She laughed. “Well, don't bother picking up dessert, either. I've still got leftovers.”

Twenty minutes later, Jeremy took a midday break from the clinic and showed up on Kirsten's front stoop with the lunch he'd picked up from the deli.

She'd been expecting him, so it was no wonder that she'd applied a coat of lipstick and had brushed her hair to a glossy shine. But it was her bright-eyed smile that did him in, reaching deep into his chest and turning him inside out.

As she stepped aside to let him into the cozy living room, he spotted the baby in a stroller.

“Going somewhere?” he asked.

“If you're up for a walk.” There it went again, that smile and that single dazzling dimple, and he realized he'd be up for just about anything with her.

“There's a community park about a block down the street,” she explained. “And the sun's out today. Why don't we take a walk and have a picnic?”

“Sounds like fun.”

And Jeremy hadn't had fun in ages.

“I've got some iced tea and goodies packed and ready to go.” She reached for a cooler that was on the floor, next to the sofa.