Just for the Summer (7 page)

…

After a coffee run to the hospital cafeteria, Dani headed back toward the emergency
department. She usually succeeded in avoiding the ER, where there was too much of
the unexpected and too little control—both as a nurse and as a patient. Her coworkers
always joked that unless a baby was about to pop, the emergency room was like a surprise
visit from relatives—you had to put up with a lot of crap and couldn’t wait for it
to end.

As she made her way through the overcrowded waiting room, Dani’s attention shifted
to a young girl who wept on the shoulder of an older woman. Lines of worry streaked
across the woman’s forehead while she rhythmically stroked the girl’s hair.

Images of another day in the ER roared through Dani’s head. Her heartbeat rocketed
as she remembered when she’d been the young girl seeking a mother’s comfort in the
aftermath of the trauma Dani had experienced.

The interrogation by nurses and doctors.

The police.

There’d been endless questions to which Dani had no answers. All she’d wanted to do
was curl up in a ball on her mother’s lap to escape. Dani avoided speaking of the
night she was raped, but that didn’t stop the memories of the aftermath—the only ones
she had. The images tucked away in some part of her brain always lingered on the edge
like a performer hidden in the stage wings, waiting for the chance to appear.

Panic raced through her, its weight heavy on her chest, like hands pressing her against
a wall. She craved the open space of the outdoors, the singing of the birds. Something
to confirm that life on the outside remained normal despite the pain and anguish inside
the ER. She dumped the coffee in a garbage can and hunted for the closest exit.

The automatic doors of the exam area shot open, and Matt barreled through them, his
face colorless, his eyes wide.

He bolted outside. She sped behind him, catching the sound of an approaching siren,
a whiff of blacktop baking in the sun. He raced toward a small courtyard set off to
the side of the building rimmed with benches and a two-tiered fountain.

Matt sank onto a seat as if the muscles holding him up had atrophied.

“What did they say?” In a little girl habit that she’d never outgrown, Dani crossed
her fingers.

“Sam—” Matt’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. He rubbed the back of his
hand across his mouth. “Sam has diabetes.”

Tiny white lights danced across her vision. The world around her spun like she was
on a merry-go-round. Motion sickness burned in her belly. She slumped on the bench
next to Matt.

“I’m so sorry.” In a simple act of compassion, she closed her hand over his. He turned
his hand and linked their fingers in a firm grip, his skin cool and rough.

He cupped his other hand over the back of his neck, rolled his head from side to side.
He swore under his breath. “I don’t know what he’ll need. How do I care for him? There’s
going to be shots…”

“You’ll have a diabetic support group. A whole team of people who will help you and
Sam figure it all out.”

“Yeah, that’s what the doctor said.” Matt swung his head in Dani’s direction. “You’re
a nurse. He said I’d need a nurse and a nutritionist. That’s you. Can you help me
take care of Sam? Teach me all this medical stuff?”

Her heart and head went to battle. She was already balancing on a dangerous ledge.
How much more could she get involved with Sam before it’d be impossible to leave him
and go back home? How much more before her secret came out and she was forced out
of Sam’s life before she was ready?

Matt shifted in his seat. “I’m not trying to shirk responsibility. I’ll do whatever
it takes to learn everything. But I have to be realistic. It’s going to take time
to figure out the medications and what he’s supposed to eat.”

“You’ll have classes to attend where they’ll teach you about meds.”

Ignoring her, he continued. “I’ve got to work. I’ve got one deputy on his honeymoon.
Another’s laid up with a broken leg. I have commitments that will make it hard to
ensure Sam’s got what he needs all day.”

“You told me before that your mom is living with you.”

He shrugged. “She watches Sam when I’m at work. She does the cooking, but her solution
will be to feed him meat and potatoes.”

All she needed was education. “I’ll talk to your mother. Help her learn about the
foods important for Sam’s health.”

Matt turned to her. “I know you’re here for some R&R and to work on your cookbook.
I have no idea what a nurse’s salary is, but I’ve got some money set aside. I can
pay your regular wage.”

He held up a hand when she opened her mouth. “All I’m asking is that you stay with
us for a few days. Maybe a week or so.” He lowered his voice. “This means life or
death for Sam. I’m scared I’ll do something wrong.”

Live with them for a week? And how long was “or so”? Stunned stupid, she kept quiet
while her mind raced. Her son needed help. Help that she could provide. Help that
would make a huge difference in the quality of his life. That was what she needed
to focus on. And maybe if she helped care for her son it’d make up for some of her
deceit.

“Please help me.”

There was no way she could risk staying for days on end at their house. She squeezed
his hand. “We’ll figure something out. Don’t worry.”

Chapter Seven

“I never knew nurses had such fascinating lives.” Rachel gathered several bottles
of spices Dani had set on the kitchen table and placed them in a cardboard box.

Dani added a few items from the refrigerator and a couple utensils from a stoneware
crock. Matt said she could bring anything she needed, and some of her own cookware
was a must.

After a brief, uncomfortable talk with Matt’s mom at the hospital about Sam’s need
for a strict diet, it was evident to Dani that her presence at Matt’s house was necessary.
While Elaine Reagan’s intentions were that of a loving grandmother, her focus was
strictly on physical comfort.

“Nothing riveting about teaching a family how to care for a diabetic child. I’ve done
it countless times.” But while all those other times had been important, this time
it was about her son and her role in making a difference in his life.

Rachel snorted. “In a single man’s home that he’s temporarily sharing with his mother?
A man who’s repeatedly given you the I-want-to-ruin-you-for-all-other-men expression?”

All the possible ways Matt might accomplish the ruining danced through Dani’s head
like a peep show. She gave her best shot at ignoring the zing of heat that hit nonpublic
body parts. “It’s a look all single guys have mastered. It automatically surfaces
anytime they’re in the vicinity of a woman.”

For good measure, she mentally recited her top three goals for agreeing to Matt’s
proposal—help Matt and Sam learn about his diabetes, hopefully clear her conscience
a bit about hiding her identity from her son, and educate Matt’s mother so she could
care for Sam when Matt wasn’t home.

Nowhere in there was a goal about provoking the sheriff, taunting and teasing to pique
his interest. “With the size of his ego, I hope there’s room for all of us. Including
the dog.” After double-checking she had her cookbook folder, Dani zipped shut her
laptop case and set it alongside the items to be lugged to Matt’s house. She closed
and locked a window, then glanced around the kitchen. “Let me put away these dishes
and then we’ll take off.”

She grabbed a couple of glasses from the dish drainer and moved to the cupboards.

“People in town are talking about your cookbook,” Rachel said. “Seems like everybody
wants to get involved.” She pulled a sheet of paper out of her shorts pocket. “One
of the clerks at the grocery store wants you to include this recipe for chocolate
pumpkin soup.” Rachel made a face like a child staring down a medicine spoon.

Dani chuckled as she juggled one of the glasses in order to open the cabinet. She
tilted her head in thought. “Might be fun to write a cookbook of local recipes. I’ll
keep it in mind.”

“And you’re supposed to ask the old woman who runs the bakery about her recipe for
killer carrot cake. She also suggested you name your book
Beauty and the Yeast
.”

A quick image of a feminine hygiene ad flitted through Dani’s brain, and she was sure
her scrunched-up face mirrored Rachel’s. “Yuck. Gonna have to pass on that one,” Dani
said with a full-body shudder.

Dani let Larry in from the porch and gathered a small duffel bag, her laptop case,
and a bag of food for the dog. “I appreciate you giving me a ride over to Matt’s.
Ready to roll?”

Rachel nodded. She grabbed the box off the kitchen table and they headed out. “What’s
wrong with your car this time?”

Dani shrugged. “The alternator. Whatever the heck that is.”

When they pulled into Matt’s driveway, Dani flipped down the vanity mirror for a quick
peek. Maybe she should have tied back her hair—it was windblown and wild. Maybe she
needed a touch of lip gloss. Maybe she needed a brain transplant because hers certainly
was on the fritz.
Be professional
, she cautioned herself. This situation was only professional.

But she’d be disrupting the family, a family she’d lied to about her true identity.
An identity she needed to keep from her son in order to be close to him. She swallowed
the guilt and slapped the visor back in place.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Rachel’s smirk.

“What? I was checking for food stuck in my teeth.”

Rachel barked out a laugh. “Bull. You’ve checked your mirror half-a-dozen times in
the last ten minutes.”

Unable to come up with a better response than sticking out her tongue, Dani kept her
mouth shut. She latched onto the handle, nudged open the car door, and scooped up
her belongings. Larry vaulted out the passenger side window when they pulled into
the driveway, and he galloped around the red brick ranch house toward the backyard.

Rachel pulled the car even with the front walk that wound between overpruned evergreens
and nondescript shrubs to a plain wooden front door. His place needed a bit of TLC,
maybe some red and white geraniums tumbling out of big terra cotta pots on the front
porch, a fresh coat of red paint to brighten the house’s entrance. It was something
she could easily do in an afternoon.

No, she was here for Sam, not to pick out new curtains for the front windows.

Dani swiped at her forehead. Her T-shirt stuck to her body like it’d been vacuum-sealed
in place. “Don’t you people believe in air-conditioning?”

“Can’t smell the summer breeze.” Rachel rolled her eyes like she knew the line was
as lame as it sounded. “Plus I don’t have money for unnecessary car repairs.” She
threw the car in park, grabbed the box from the backseat, and climbed out of the car.
“Better get used to the heat. Matt’s house doesn’t have central air.” Rachel jerked
her head toward the rear of the house. “I usually let myself in through the back.”

The sound of a male voice wafted out the open windows. There was no mistaking Matt’s
deep tone. “The only woman sleeping in my bed will be Ms. Sullivan.”

Rachel shot Dani a look like they’d uncovered breaking news, and couldn’t decide if
they should contact
E!
or
Access Hollywood
. “You sure about your job description? Might want to double your fee.”

…

Matt’s gaze veered to the back door. Rachel stepped into the kitchen sporting an amused
expression. Dani hustled through the door like she was invading enemy territory; Matt
half expected her to whip out a gun and point it at his head. Her soft yellow sundress
clung to her damp skin, and her hair was tousled in a just-got-out-of-bed look. She
made a hell of an image, but with his mother standing behind him, he thought it best
not to linger on that fact.

“I think we need to define my role here,” Dani said, hands on hips. Her smile was
solicitous, yet her eyes were laser sharp. “Just so there’s no confusion.”

Matt bit back the urge to smile. For a tiny woman, she sure could get fired up. And
there was no doubt in his mind she could rile him up too. And somewhere along the
way, he’d gotten used to calling her the more formal name. Seemed even more intimate
than calling her Dani. He nabbed the bag of dog food out of her arms. “I hired you,
Ms. Sullivan, to teach us how to care for Sam. Since you’re the one doing us a huge
favor, I’m offering you my room. Excluding me, of course.” His tone dropped to just
above a whisper. “Unless you’d like to renegotiate.”

“We have three beds and four people. Somebody has to share.” Matt’s mother cleared
her voice. Twice. “Let’s remember there’s an impressionable young boy living in this
house. There won’t be any boy-girl sharing of beds.” Her voice dropped a notch. “Not
while I’m living here.” She drilled her point home by making eye contact with each
of them in a pay-attention-or-else expression.

Dani’s brown eyes narrowed to slits. “Can I speak with you in private, Sheriff?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted her before stashing the dog food in a cupboard. Her mumbled
response sounded a lot like, “Smart aleck.”

“As much as I’d love to stay, I’ve gotta run.” Rachel deposited the box of items they’d
brought from Dani’s onto the kitchen counter before wrapping her arms around Matt
in a sisterly hug. Rachel tilted her head back, her compassionate eyes shimmering
as she looked up at Matt. “I’m signed up for the diabetic class later in the week.
Dani has agreed to coach me, too, when she’s back at the bungalows.”

He dropped a kiss to Rachel’s head. “Thanks, Rach. It means a lot to me and Sam.”

“I love him like my own,” Rachel said. “I’ll do anything to help.”

Matt walked her to the back door where Dani stood eyeing his mother across the room
as if mulling whether to retreat or attack.

After Rachel left, Matt ushered Dani through the doorway of his room.

She took her time checking it out. “I’ve heard about your bedroom.”

He dropped her duffel on the bed. “Huh. Didn’t know it was legendary.”

“You can put away the pride, stud. Sam told me about the two of you redecorating your
bedrooms.”

Matt smiled. His heart had tugged when he realized they’d transformed a toddler’s
room crowded with stuffed animals and toy trains to a young boy’s space filled with
souvenirs of his favorite baseball team and dreams of his future. A paint-covered
Sam had beamed at his new room, and at that point, Matt had wanted a fresh start,
too.

Each brushstroke of fresh blue paint in the master bedroom had erased the space he
and Gina had decorated together. He’d also managed to erase most of the images of
his ex-wife in his bed, good memories that needed to be forgotten. Now, he yearned
for the opportunity to create new ones.

“I’m not moving in, Sheriff. I thought I’d made myself clear.”

“I know. I told my mom you’d be here late some nights. Maybe she thought you’d changed
your mind when she saw your bag.”

He’d be a liar if he hadn’t thought—wished—the same thing.

“Just want to keep a few changes of clothes here.”

His fingertip skimmed her forehead close to her hairline.

Smooth skin. Soft hair. A rush of desire kicked him in the gut, and he wanted to weave
his hands into her hair and bend to nip her bottom lip. “What happened?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Minor kitchen trauma.”

“I have a special healing system,” he said.

Amusement lit her brown eyes. “I can hardly wait to hear your method.”

“It’s been tested and proved to be reliable.”

“No doubt. It never crossed my mind that your techniques would be flawed, Sheriff.”

“Actually, it’s much more effective if I show you.” He placed a gentle kiss near her
injury. He encountered warm and silky skin. Would she be this soft everywhere? He
silently begged for the chance to find out. With his lips, he skimmed across the delicate
area below her ear. Her breath hitched, and he took pleasure in thinking it was because
of his touch.

“What if I have injuries in other places too?”

He pushed back to see the mischievous flash of her eyes.

Yep, Ms. S. was gonna crank up the heat in his house. Between single fatherhood and
living with his mother, Matt’s sex life had plummeted. It’d been so long since he’d
made love to a woman, he probably wouldn’t remember how it was done. Not that it mattered.
He wasn’t going to have temporary sex with Dani Sullivan or any other woman in Lake
Bliss. Nothing wrong with flirting, though.

His gaze trailed down her body—pausing at a few interesting places here and there—before
returning to her face. His lower body stirred to life. Okay, so maybe he could recall
a few things about sex. Maybe it’d all come back to him. “Do you ache anyplace else?”

“Oh, yea.” Her voice sizzled with a sensuousness that left his body aching for release.

“Tell me where. Anywhere.” He wasn’t picky.

“My foot.”

Not the response he’d anticipated. “Your…” He blinked. “Your what?”

One corner of her mouth tilted up higher than the other in a teasing grin. “I stepped
on some glass in the kitchen. I pulled a sliver out of my heel. It’s sore.” She stood
on tiptoe in an apparent attempt to get in his face but didn’t come close. “Want to
kiss it?”

“Not a problem.” He could start at the bottom, work his way up. He reached for her
foot. She yelped and jumped back, but before he could make another grab, Sam raced
into the room. He skidded to a halt in front of Dani, and she kneeled down. For a
moment, it looked like she’d pull him into a hug.

Instead, she brushed a hand over his head. “Hi, honey. How’re you feeling?” Her eyes
softened with tenderness. He’d made a good call asking her to help, even though he’d
surprised himself in a moment of embarrassing weakness.

Sam shrugged. “Okay. My fingers hurt from getting poked.”

Dani nodded and crinkled her nose. “They’ll toughen up. It’ll take a little time,
though.” With the addition of a topical numbing solution, his insulin shots were going
extremely well, too.

“Dad said you’re going to make us something good for dinner.”

“Yep.”

His eyes narrowed. “It’ll be something special that I can eat?”

“Absolutely. One of the things I’ll teach your dad and grandmother while I’m here
is what to cook for a diabetic diet.”

A sound of distress came from near the doorway. Arms crossed, Matt’s mother stood
in the entry wearing a look of displeasure he hadn’t seen since he’d gotten his first
speeding ticket.

Obviously catching the sideshow, Dani took hold of Sam’s hand. “How about if we go
in the backyard and say hi to Larry? Later, you can help me with dinner.”

Matt smiled a thanks as Sam steered them toward the back door. Then he waved his mother
into the kitchen. She took a seat and placed her hands in her lap.

“Mom, Ms. Sullivan already discussed the meal situation with you.”

“I didn’t think she meant entire meals.”

“Yes, until we get it figured out, she’s going to do most of the cooking.”

“What am I reduced to? Cleaning toilets?”

“Sam’s life depends on a strict diet.” Matt lowered his voice to the one he’d perfected
twenty-some years ago when dealing with his mother. “Please, I need your support on
this.”