Penelope (24 page)

Oh, she had to have looked stupid flirting with him like she was. What made her think he was available? And why did she care, except she’d gotten caught up in all this falling in love that had been going on. First Amelia and Sam and then Penelope and Brock. She was a woman after all. She could certainly blame it on hormones.

She let out a long breath and waited for him to come to her door. When he tapped on the window she opened the door.

“It’s so dead I can’t roll down the window,” she said, forcing a smile on her face.

“I brought cables. I’ll give you a jump.”

“Thanks.” She popped the hood of her car and watched as Clayton walked back and climbed into his car. He drove it around the quiet road so that he was parked right next to her.

He popped the hood of his car as he climbed out. “It’ll just take a moment.”

He pulled the cables out of his car and walked around to the front of the cars.

Clayton chuckled to himself. “I always forget which way these go.”

“Red ones are positive. Black are negative.”

He nodded. “Right. You’d think that would be easy enough to remember.”

Clayton went about connecting the cables and Vivian watched, then what he said hit her.

“You said you brought cables. You didn’t just have them and saw me stranded?”

Clayton shook his head. “The gal at the front desk of the rec center lent them to me. I’d gone to get my girls and they said you’d called because you were going to be late. I told them I’d come get you.”

Vivian nodded slowly, her stare fixed on this man she’d flirted with and even had invited to a private barbecue. She sickened herself. Though he did come without his wife. That didn’t uphold his character very well, she decided.

“You drove all the way out here to get me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Clayton looked around and then back at her. “Because you’re stranded.”

She crossed her arms over her chest as much out of irritation as to shield her from the cold. “Just a nice guy routine?”

Clayton’s sandy hair was blowing in the opposite direction in which he’d combed it, giving it a ledge. His brown eyes were narrowed on her as he held the last cord in his hand.

“No routine going on. I thought we were friends and you needed some help.”

“Friends? I just met you a few weeks ago.”

“Right.” He winced. “You invited me to a party too. Friends do that. Even if they just met. Remember I’m new in town. I don’t know too many people.”

“Whatever. Thanks for coming out. Very strange, but thank you.” She couldn’t even stand the sound of her own voice as she talked to him. The first time they’d met she was giddy and gushy—not like her either. But now she was being crude and snide. More like her, she thought, but not nice.

He clamped the last cable to the side of the engine compartment. “Okay, go start your car.”

Vivian walked back to her car and turned the key. The car sputtered and finally came to life. When she looked up Clayton stood there with an enormous grin looking down at two running engines.

That nerdy grin was making her insides gooey again, just as it had when he’d arrived at the old house looking for a daycare for his girls. Two of the cutest girls she’d ever seen.

It was stupid to be mad at herself just because an attractive, smart guy considered her a friend. And then there was the matter of fact that he was going to be paying some of her bills when his daughters attended their daycare.

She let her mouth slide into an easy smile as she climbed out of the car.

“I really appreciate you coming to help me out. That was above and beyond.”

“I’d like to think that someone would help me someday too.”

Cute and genuinely nice. His wife was a lucky lady—whoever she was.

Clayton took the cables off of the batteries and rolled them around his arm. Vivian slammed down her hood and he did the same.

“Amelia is with the inspector now getting everything signed off on the daycare. If everything goes well we should be open next week.”

His eyes grew wide. “Oh, that’ll be great. My girls talk about your girls non-stop. They’ll be glad to be around them all the time.”

He was easy to look at and easy to talk to. She found herself wanting to do just that—stare and talk.

“How is school going?” she asked, remembering that he was a new school teacher in town.

“So far, not bad. I’ve been called Mr. South, Mr. West, Mr. East, and Mr. Northbound.”

She chuckled and he eased his hip against his car, which only made him cuter.

“Third graders are funny like that.”

“Sometimes sassier than high schoolers.”

When he crossed his arms over his chest she was reminded of that wedding ring on his finger. She didn’t want to be that other woman to worry about.

Vivian pushed back her shoulders and held out her hand. “Thank you, Mr. Northwest, for helping me out today.”

He grinned as he shook her hand. “My pleasure.”

“I look forward to seeing the girls next week.”

She turned back to her car and began to climb inside.

“Hey,” he called. “I’m taking the fam out for pizza on Saturday night. That place on the edge of town with the video games.”

She nodded. She knew the place too well. That was where she and Adam had spent many of their teenage lustful nights.

“Anyway,” he continued. “Why don’t you and the girls meet us there? We can have family pizza night for everyone.”

Vivian swallowed hard. “They’d like that.”

He gave her a wave as he climbed into his car and motioned for her to drive ahead of him.

She put the car in gear and started back down the road.

Looking back in her rearview mirror she saw him on his cell phone. No doubt talking to his wife.

She was a big enough woman to be friends with him—and the wife. She’d been lied to and she didn’t trust anyone, so this would be a good step for her. Trust a man she just met that makes her insides gooey—and spend time with his kids and wife.

Nothing seemed off about that at all, she tried to convince herself. He was just a good, decent man. He’d come to her rescue and his daughters would be in her care next week when her business opened.

But it didn’t stop the fact that he was so handsome and she wished he was single.

5 Prince Publishing is proud to present
Rocky Road
by Susan Lohrer. Please enjoy this excerpt. You can find this book and many more on the 5 Prince Publishing site at
www.5princebooks.com

Rocky Road

By

Susan Lohrer

Wouldn’t someone who really wanted to get married be a little more careful than this? Not that Ancy doubted Mark’s intentions. He was The One. And she wouldn’t nag him about it.

Honestly though, severing most of the nerves in his hand should’ve been enough for one week—but no! He had to go and whop himself on the head too. It wasn’t like Mark to be this accident-prone, and he’d been getting worse over the last few months. Working too hard so he’d be a good provider, no doubt. That’s just the kind of guy he was. She smiled, visualizing him in a black tux.

Focusing on her impending nuptials usually distracted her from thinking about whether she’d make department head. And lately, her impending groom had been more than enough distraction.

She checked the temperature of the paraffin tub. “This’ll feel a little hot, but it’ll help with flexibility.” He grimaced as she dipped his right hand into the warm wax. Then he gave her bum a squeeze with the left one. “Quit it before someone sees us.”

Since he wasn’t dragging his feet—that much seemed obvious—why couldn’t he stay in one piece long enough to put some professional distance between them?

“Mark, you’ve dropped a wall on your head, nailed your foot to the floor, and dislocated your shoulder. Are you
trying
to get out of our wedding?”

Whoops. She bit her lip and glanced over her shoulder. Outpatient Physical Therapy was crowded in the afternoon. The last thing she needed was for someone to overhear her in a lover’s spat… with her patient. That would not only prevent her promotion to department head, it would end her career. Instantly. Working quickly, she covered the warm wax with a plastic bag, then slipped a padded mitten over the whole thing to lock in the heat.

If only there were a simple way to get around the patient-therapist dating taboo. But because her specialty was post-traumatic hand rehabilitation, she was the therapist most qualified to care for Mark’s injuries—so she and Mark were forced into secrecy until he regained the use of his hand. “Well, couldn’t you try to be just a little more careful?” She kept her voice to a low hiss. “At this rate, I’ll be ninety by the time we even set the date.”

“Aw Ancy, a few more weeks and this thing will be as good as new.” He grinned and held up his thickly swaddled hand.

Yeah, right. She’d treated her share of injuries. This one was far from pretty, even though she hadn’t seen it until after the surgery. His poor body. “Please just be more careful. I want to wear my ring on my finger, not on my necklace where no one can see it.” She displayed her perfectly healthy left hand, its third finger perfectly naked. Did Mark have any idea how hard it was on her to keep this a secret? And not just from the department—from Jen, her best friend in the whole world.

Though she was the one best qualified to treat Mark, Jen—perky, sexy Jen—could have treated his injuries. But then Jen and Mark—not that she didn’t trust him—but why create temptation by throwing her beefcake fiancé into the capable arms of her best friend? Besides, every difficult PT case brought her another step closer to becoming department head. She couldn’t risk losing that kind of security, not when she almost had it in her grasp.

“Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“You worry too much.” He looked so hot when he gave her that wink that said she could count on him no matter what.

“Mark, I’m serious.” She added a stern, professional note to her voice as Doris Ridgewood, the department head—who was due for retirement any second—passed by. “You have to take some time off work to rest. If you don’t, you’ll never regain full use of your hand.”

Doris nodded approvingly and continued on her way.

Mark leaned close. “It’s kind of exciting, don’t you think, Ance?”

“What is?” She checked her watch. Almost time to unwrap the hand and work on scar mobility.

“Knowing you’ll be mine to have and to hold.” He waggled his dark brows meaningfully. “This hand is going to make a full recovery, and you know what I’m gonna do with it.”

She could feel the blood rushing from her extremities, and probably from a few vital organs, straight to her face.

Jen, between patients, was walking past. Had she overheard Mark’s titanically not-suitable-for-work innuendo? She slowed. Cocked her head. Pivoted on her heels. Ancy’s promotion slithered down to the pit of her belly as Jen marched up to her and pulled her aside, a thunderstorm brewing in her eyes. “Is this guy giving you a hard time?”

Fresh guilt welled up inside Ancy, and she was sure her cheeks were as red as if Jen had targeted her with a laser pointer. Jen didn’t have a clue, and it made Ancy feel like a big, fat liar.

“I um, got something in my eye.” Jen shot her a strange look. But it was the only thing Ancy could think of on such short notice. She turned away and pretended to wipe at her face. When she looked again, Jen was with another patient. Ancy had never kept a secret from her best friend before, and she was starting to hate the way it made her feel.

Maybe she should tell Jen and just get this whole thing off her shoulders. But then Jen would be obligated to tell Doris, and Ancy wouldn’t blame her if she did. And she’d lose her job. Her watch’s second hand swept up to the 12.

Back to Mark. The mitten, the bag, and the wax came off, and she began to manipulate his hand through range-of-motion exercises, bending and stretching all his fingers, careful not to apply too much pressure to the still-healing surgery scars. His hands were muscular. Strong hands, dependable hands. The hands of a man who would stand by her through whatever life threw at them. And he wouldn’t leave her the way Steve had. The way her father had left her family.

“Nice technique, Ancy.” Doris’s voice behind her shoulder made her flinch. The woman didn’t approach like a normal person, she
appeared
. Ancy had never once heard her coming. “Young man,” Doris said, skimming over the floor and coming to stand beside Ancy, “our Miss Robertson is highly qualified in her specialty. She’s one of the best.”

Wow. It wasn’t every day Doris handed out a compliment like that. Could it reflect an intention to recommend Ancy for the promotion?

“Of course, Fidelity General Hospital is soon to be blessed with a second, equally qualified therapist. He’s one of our alumni. Your case might prove especially interesting to him.” She glided away, and Ancy pictured Doris as a young, heavy-browed girl balancing a book on her head.