Sexual Healing for Three (3 page)

“Yeah, but I didn’t look in the envelope yet.”

Damn, Kelly Benson was pretty enough to get this kid’s mind off of DVD’s? Russ was going to have to keep an eye on him. He didn’t want the boy screwing around, getting some girl pregnant, while he was here and giving Suzie reason not to send him to his dad’s for the summer, not to mention cause her any more gray hairs. She was always saying she was
not
ready to be a grandmother at forty-three.

Like Russ wanted to be a grandfather at forty-five?

Russ dialed Papa Gio’s and ordered the two pizzas, some cheese sticks, and a couple of cinnamon rolls. Kim was into her health food, but she wouldn’t say no to Papa Gio’s cinnamon rolls. She had a sweet tooth that wouldn’t quit and hadn’t yet become obsessed with her weight, and he hoped she never did. She was just right to him, except for the little buds he saw sprouting under the front of her turquoise tank top.

Christ, he thought he would have more time before she got breasts!

The idea of horny teen boys sniffing around his little angel gave him a few more gray hairs of his own. Lucky for him he looked distinguished with them—or so he’d been told—streaking his sandy-brown hair at the temples, where Suzie thought she looked plain old.

Sure it wasn’t fair, but life was crappy sometimes.

“Oh yeah, Daddy, you got a call while you were out.”

“From who?” Russ turned to his daughter hoping it hadn’t been the office with some last-minute emergency.

20

Gracie C. McKeever

He had a competent field manager in Stu Rossman, who had been with him longer than any of his men, practically from the beginning of the business, and could handle most any occupational situation that came up. He had another handful of guys who had been with him several years and had proved reliable. Even Derek Crawford, one of two apprentices he had only recently added to the payroll, had established himself as a quick learner and a hard and trustworthy worker.

Normally, Russ wouldn’t have been out in the field and so hands-on. He had moved more towards the management end of his business—
Merrick Outdoor Designs—
in recent years. But every once in a while, a project like the Calminetti’s home came along that just begged for his personal attention. And every once in a while an apprentice came along whose potential screamed for honing.

Derek had that potential and his hunger for knowledge made Russ enjoy coming to work every day, made him miss his brother and long for the days he’d dreamed of passing down his knowledge to a close male relative.

He realized then that his newest employees were surrogates for Chance and, perhaps to a lesser degree, Wes.

Kim ripped a page off of the memo pad on the island top and handed it to him. “It was from Uncle Chance.”

“Chancellor called?”

Wes and Kim both giggled behind their hands, and Russ realized his slip. Whenever he was upset or excited—or when they were younger and he was trying to be the stern older

brother/disciplinarian—he called his brother by the hated name. Using the name in front of anyone, or even when they were alone, was also the surefire way to piss off his brother.

“He said he’s sorry he hasn’t called in a while. He was busy trying to get settled.”

Settled? Where was the kid off to now?
Russ wondered as he read the message.

Sexual Healing for Three

21

“So when do we get to meet this mysterious uncle of ours?” Kim asked.

“Yeah, Dad.”

“I don’t know.” He didn’t see a number on the message, only a note that Chance would call back. Damn it, what was his brother playing at with the cryptic shit?

“He sounds cool. I think I might join the Peace Corps too,” Wes said, the usual hint of awe in his voice whenever Chance was mentioned.

Russ was just dear old dad who put a roof over their heads, clothes on their backs, paid the bills, and bought the more-than-occasional necessary teenage accessories like cell phones, iPods, and Wiis. Chance was the mysterious daredevil who traveled to exotic locales and came home to become a doctor who probably saw all kinds of exciting and gory things in the ER.

To Russ, Chance was just the runt little brother, the same way Kim was a brat to Wes. There was no mystique or cool factor. Sure his brother had joined the Peace Corps at eighteen, left the country, and hadn’t returned until four years later to go to medical school.

Even then he’d been honing his skills halfway across the country on the West Coast up until a couple of years ago. He’d been too busy with his studies and practice to do more than chat with Russ over the phone periodically rather than return to New York for a visit with his then-married brother and young niece and nephew.

He still missed his brother after all these years and wondered if Chance had finally found what he had been looking for. “I thought you wanted to be an architect,” he said to Wes, trying not to sound slighted.

“Can’t I do both?”

“Of course you can.” Okay, to be fair, the kids did think it was pretty cool that their dad had been a marine who’d seen action in Desert Storm. Wes was especially fascinated with his dad’s tribal tattoos and said he couldn’t wait to get is own when he was eighteen.

22

Gracie C. McKeever

For the boy’s mother’s sake, Russ had managed to talk Wes into waiting until then. Who’d known when he’d had his own put on twenty years ago that he would be setting himself up as a role model for his own son?

“So, Dad, you never did say what’s up for the night?”

Russ looked at his son and wondered how to tell him and his sister he was going out. He’d been home every night after work since their most recent stay. .“I thought we already said. You’re going to watch movies and try not to stay up too late just because it’s a Saturday.”

“Dad.” Wes huffed and rolled his eyes. “That’s the whole point of spring
break
.”

At least they weren’t out flashing their breasts at strangers and drinking shots off of oversexed
Girls Gone Wild
wannabes’ asses.

Staying up late was tame compared to that. And the kids
had
volunteered and gone with their old man and his company to New Orleans and helped with the rebuilding after Katrina two summers in a row rather than take a vacation.

“So, uh, Dad, you’re not going to be watching movies with us?”

The girl was as sharp as a tack and prettier than a runway model.

He was in some serious shit when it came to laying down ground rules for her dating habits. He didn’t want her to wind up with some horny deviant like him. “Not this time.”

“You’re going out?”

Russ cleared his throat. “To a celebratory barbecue and unveiling at my client’s.”

Kim clapped her hands, then pumped her fist. “Yes! Dad’s got a date.”

“A
blind
date.”

“Yo, dude. Bummer,” Wes said.

Russ laughed and playfully cuffed his son as the doorbell rang. He pulled a couple of twenties out of his wallet and handed them to Wes, who grabbed the bills and ran from the kitchen through the living room to answer the front door.

Sexual Healing for Three

23

“Dad.” Kim took him by a hand and patted the barstool beside her. “We need to talk.”

Oh Christ, was he about to get schooled on the pros and cons of dating in the twenty-first century by his thirteen-year-old daughter?

He
needed
a seat for this.

“I just want to say I’m glad you’ve decided to go out and have a social life.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Because we all know it’s been, like, forever. And everyone needs a social life to let off some steam and have some—”

Russ put up a hand, palm facing his daughter in a stop sign, or what her generation called a talk-to-the-hand warning. “I get the picture, missy.”

She grabbed his hand and held it. “Oh, Daddy, you’re so funny.”

“Well, I’m glad you find me amusing.”

Kim squeezed his shoulder and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “We worry about you.”

“We?”

“Wes would never say it, but he does too. And he and I and Mom all agree you need to get out more, see someone.”

Russ smiled at the idea of his ex-wife sitting down with their kids, strategizing about his love life. It just went to show how amicable Suzie had been during and since the divorce. In fact, he and Suzie were better friends now than they had been when they were married, definitely better friends than when he’d first dropped his bombshell and explained to her why they couldn’t stay married any longer. He thanked Christ every day that Suzie wasn’t the vindictive type.

“So, you all just sit around and talk about your old man when he’s not around, huh?” Russ asked his daughter now.

“Not like gossip or anything, just out of concern.”

“Uh-huh.”

Kim leaned in to peck his cheek again, then rubbed a palm down his whiskers as she slid off of her seat. “You need a shave, Dad.”

24

Gracie C. McKeever

“I thought women liked the Don Johnson look.”

“Who?”

“Sonny Crocket,” he said and got another blank stare, so he tried again. “
Miami Vice?
”

“Oh, you mean Colin Farrell!”

“Uh, yeah.” Might as well quit while he was ahead. There was no way he was competing with Colin, even on a good day. As scruffy as the actor could be, he was still a pretty boy, something Russ definitely was not. Unless he did shave, then he just looked like a boy, period.

“Trust me, Dad. You don’t want to give the ladies whisker burn.”

Christ, this girl was going to send him to an early grave! “Where’s your brother with those pizzas?”

“Somebody rang?” Wes appeared on the threshold of the kitchen, balancing five boxes in varying sizes like a seasoned waiter, and made his way over to place his stack on the island top.

Saved by the pizza man!

Sexual Healing for Three

25

Chance glanced up as he finished suturing a little boy’s forehead in one of the exam rooms and spied Donna Vega pacing in the hallway.

He’d bet one of her Safe Haven charges was being treated in one of the other exam rooms, and Donna was waiting for the results like a nervous mother hen.

It seemed like not a week went by when she wasn’t here in the ER

filling out the required forms, holding a battered woman’s hand while she got patched up and reassuring the woman that everything was going to be all right, or just waiting to take an abuse victim and/or her kids to their new home and circumstances.

Chance had first met Donna six months ago when he attended one of her seminars on how to recognize the signs of domestic abuse and violence. He’d been enthusiastic about putting his new knowledge to work in the ER and required all of his staff to take the seminar too.

Chance now patted his six-year-old patient on the leg and gave the boy’s mother an encouraging grin. “He’s good to go.”

“Thanks so much, Doctor. When I saw all the blood, I was worried it was more serious.”

“Head lacerations tend to bleed a lot.”

“I’d heard that, but still…”

“Emanuel’s going to be okay. He’s a real trooper, aren’t you?”

Chance ruffled the little boy’s dark curls and was rewarded with a snaggletoothed smile that tugged his heart as Emanuel vigorously nodded his head.

“It didn’t hurt at all!”

26

Gracie C. McKeever

Chance wondered if Emanuel’s mother noticed he hadn’t given the boy any anesthetic or that the cut required a lot fewer stitches than might have been necessary had Chance not put his gift to work on the gash before the first suture had been placed. He was pretty careful when he did his thing, and parents were usually so preoccupied with their kids’ pain that they rarely noticed anything supernatural about Chance’s methods except that he got the job done. He had to be a lot more careful treating adults, though. Even in pain and suffering, they noticed the excessive warmth of his skin when he placed his hand on a wound or the slight glow that emitted from his fingers when he employed his abilities.

Mrs. Vasquez grabbed his hand and gave it a firm shake. “Thanks again, Doctor.”

Chance rubbed and squeezed her shoulder with his free hand, radiating comforting thoughts and emotions, glancing over her internal organs with gentle psychic fingers and stabilizing her still-elevated vital signs.

Mrs. Vasquez gradually relaxed beneath his touch.

He was careful not to push too much. He didn’t want to draw attention to what he was doing so just exuded enough of his energy to make her feel at peace in the knowledge that her son was going to be all right. She would go home with a sense of mental and physical well-being, as would Emanuel. The little crush Mrs. Vasquez had on her son’s doctor, however, wasn’t something Chance could do anything about.

He easily released Mrs. Vasquez before she got the wrong idea and turned to help Emanuel down from the exam table, then crouched in front of the boy. “Going to be more careful on the monkey bars, little man? Keep your mother’s stress levels down?”

Emanuel nodded. “Okay.”

“My man!” Chance put up his palm facing the boy and chuckled when the little boy gave him a solid and resounding high five. He stood and pulled a couple of ubiquitous lollipops from a pocket of his
Sexual Healing for Three

27

lab coat—one cherry vanilla swirl, the other grape—and handed both to Emanuel. He had a notorious sweet tooth, but the candy really came in handy when he treated kids. “For being so brave.”

“Thank you, Dr. Novak!”

Chance ruffled the boy’s hair again, accompanying the mother and son out into the hallway where he finally caught Donna’s eye.

His heart instantly flipped over, his cock hardening and swelling as if she’d touched him with more than just a gaze. Her eyes did things to his body that no other woman’s hands had managed to do in his more than three decades of life.

“Ms. Vega.” He grinned.

She returned it and tipped her head. “Dr. Novak.”

“So what brings you here to my fair emergency room this go-round?” The last time, she’d accompanied a woman who’d needed five stitches to close a gash above her right eye, an injury the woman insisted she had been clumsy enough to get when she
slipped
in the bathroom.