Rescue My Heart (12 page)

“
Be careful, Rory,” Bess
said, handing the heavy pot to Brooke.

“
Don’t want you to get
hurt,” Miranda agreed, scooping salad onto her plate.

“
It’s too late for
careful,” Rory replied. “I’m probably in love with him
already.”

“
But you said he’s so
different from you?” Brooke asked.

“
Yeah, I know. I’m
surprised too. Whatever it is, we have chemistry. I like him. He’s
a good guy, underneath that stupid, smug attitude.”

“
You’ve cursed him, torn
him limb from limb, in front of us.” Bess buttered a
roll.

“
I know. That’s what’s so
weird. I thought I hated him so much, his good looks wouldn’t
affect me. Then, whammo! Boom. Love.”

“
Does it feel good? It’s
been so long, I’ve forgotten,” Miranda sighed.

“
You have a
boyfriend.”

“
Sort of. Tell
me.”

“
It’s awesome. I look
forward to seeing him every day. It’s like walking three inches
above the ground.” They ate in silence for a while. “There isn’t
anyone at this table who doesn’t know what I’m talking about,” Rory
said.

“
Probably right. But none
of us are in relationships that feel like that now.”

“
You’re not jealous, are
you?”

“
I’m happy you’re happy.
I’d like to be there, too,” Miranda said.

“
Me, too,” Brooke
added.

“
You will be. This amazing
group of women…I can’t believe great men haven’t discovered us all
yet,” Rory said.

“
Of course, Bess has her
cop.”

“
Our day will come,”
Miranda said.

“
So, which wine goes
best?” Bess asked, changing the subject.

The women did a taste test and
concluded that either one was fine. Dessert was homemade peach ice.
The dogs played tag while the women washed up. Then, it was time to
go home.

“
Good luck, Rory. Don’t
forget details next time,” Brooke said with a sly smile.

“
Like
that’ll ever happen!” Rory laughed. As she and Baxter strolled down
the street, she thought about her friends.
It would be so great if they were in love, too. Am I in love?
Guess I am. Damn. This is complicated.

Chapter Six

After
dinner with her friends, Rory decided to try to forget about
Hack.
I need to go back to hating him, or
I’m going to get my heart broken.

She arose early the next day and
distracted herself by cooking. The weather had turned cool. She
closed the windows in her apartment and decided that only a big pot
of chicken soup could warm her soul and the small space she called
home. She bundled up against the chilly wind and headed to the
store.

Being handicapped by her
cast, it took her twice as long to get all the ingredients ready.
After the preparations were completed, the fat pot sat on the
stove, simmering. A delicious aroma permeated the
apartment.

When
Hack buzzed at ten, she was ready for a break. Her muscles tensed
as she fought to control her emotions.
How
can I like him? He’s a self-centered, smug, superior man. A man who
ran me down. Almost ruined my life! But those eyes. The way they
look at me. His body, his scent…
The
doorbell interrupted her thoughts. He greeted her coolly, and she
returned in kind.

“
What’s that I
smell?”

“
Chicken soup.”

“
You’re making chicken
soup? From scratch?”

“
Is there any other
way?”

“
Open a can?”

“
For a rich boy, you sure
were deprived.” The phone rang. Rory wiped her hand on her apron
and picked up her cell. It was her mother.

“
Hi, Mom. What’s
up?”

“
Haven’t heard from you in
a while. Calling to make sure you’re okay.”

“
I’m fine. I broke my arm,
but the guy who did it is helping me type my book.”

“
You have a strange man in
your apartment?”

“
He’s not strange. Well,
not exactly. The court made him.” Hack turned and stared. Rory
smiled and shrugged.

“
Your arm’s in a
cast?”

“
Yeah. No biggie. I’m
still writing.”

“
I hope you’re not putting
out any of those trashy romance books.”

Rory rolled her eyes. “I’m writing
mysteries, like you said I should.”

“
Good. A few of the ladies
down here got their hands on your other stories. I was so
embarrassed! Keep it clean, Aurora.”

“
Yes, mother.” Rory tapped
her foot.

“
Working hard?”

“
Always.” She shifted her
weight.

“
Then, I
won’t bother you. Take care. Bye.” The line went dead.
Thank God that’s over.

“
Your mom?” Hack
asked.

“
How did you guess?
One-word answers give it away?”

“
You weren’t kidding when
you said you two weren’t close.”

“
About as close as a
rabbit could be to a boa constrictor.”

“
That’s too
bad.”

“
She’s in Florida,
remember? Too far to be a factor in my life, anyway. Good thing,
too.”

“
My mom has Alzheimer’s.
We were close. Now, she comes and goes, mentally. It’s
hard.”

“
Sorry to hear that.” She
placed her hand on his arm.

Hack
stared out the window for a moment. “We’re wasting time. Where do
we begin today?” he asked, opening the document in
Word
.

Bet it’s
too painful for him to talk about his mom.
They set to work right away. Rory kept her mind occupied with
her story and stirring the pot on the stove. Her business-like
attitude worked except when she recalled what it was like to be in
the embrace of Dr. Hack Roberts.

Her skin prickled at the memory of his
touch. The desire to run her fingers through the hair on his chest
made her fingertips hot, as if they were glowing. She shifted her
weight, paced, tapped her toe, but nothing could remove the
enticing images of a half-naked Hack with his arms around her and
his lips locked on hers.

“
Are you sure Harry says
that? Shouldn’t it be Lavinia?”

Crap! I can’t even keep my
characters straight when he’s in the room.

“
You’re right. Scratch
that.” The aroma of the cooking chicken made her stomach rumble.
She padded over to the pot and stirred again.

“
That smells fantastic,”
he said.

“
Did you bring
lunch?”

“
Thought I’d order in,” he
said.

She tasted the simmering soup and
grinned. “Scratch that, too. Soup’s ready, you can have it for
lunch. If you want.”

“
If I want? Are you
kidding? I’ve been salivating to that smell for hours. I’m
starved.”

“
Let’s eat.” Rory pulled
down two large bowls and a couple of plates. Hack put out place
settings while she ladled out two portions. The rich broth was
laden with chunks of chicken, bright orange carrots, pieces of
celery, bits of onion, and thick with noodles. He carried the
dishes to the table.

Rory reached into a plastic bag
sitting on the counter. She pulled out a fresh boule of crusty rye
bread, coated with caraway seeds. Using a serrated knife, she
sliced off a hunk. As she went to cut the second piece, she slashed
her own finger by mistake. A yelp and a clatter as the knife fell
to the floor alerted Hack.

“
Cut yourself?” She
nodded, gripping her thumb as if her life depended on
it.

Hack took her hand in his and pried
her fingers off the bleeding wound. He examined it.

“
Doesn’t look too deep.
Doubt you’ll need stitches.” He placed her hand under cold water
from the sink. Rory flinched at the pain. He squeezed her shoulder.
“Do you have first aid stuff?”

“
In the
bathroom.”

Using a paper towel, Hack gently dried
her hand and raised it above her head. “Keep your hand up
here.”

He was
back within two minutes. Pain pulsed through her body, and she
danced around to cope.
He is a doctor,
even if he only treats animals.

Hack applied antibiotic cream and
several band aids quickly. Then, he put her hand to his lips for a
second before letting go.

Rory’s gaze met his for a moment
before dropping. “Did you learn that at vet school?”

“
The kiss? Nah, that’s a
secret I got from my mother. Heals cuts every time.” He grinned.
“That should do it. Change the dressing before you go to bed and
when you get up in the morning. I’ll finish cutting the
bread.”

“
The soup!” Rory’s eyes
widened. “Dammit!”

Hack sliced off another piece of
bread, put both pieces on a plate, and brought them to the table.
He sat down and sipped. “Hmm. Delicious. And the right temperature.
We needed time to let it cool.”

Rory attempted to eat with one
bandaged hand and one in a cast.

“
Do you want help?” She
shook her head. “Take it slow. No rush,” he said. “This is the best
chicken soup I’ve ever eaten.”

Rory
smiled and a small blush heated her cheeks.
He likes it. The way to a man’s heart. I’m not supposed to
care about his heart. Miss String Bean’s concern.

“
The pain should have
stopped by now.”

“
Only a little sting,” she
said, scooping up a piece of chicken and carrot with her
spoon.

“
Good. Rest. I’ll walk
Baxter before I leave.”

“
Can we finish Lavinia’s
scene?”

“
Sure.” Hack put another
spoonful of the delectable dish in his mouth and closed his eyes.
“This is incredible.”

“
Does Miss Bobby Pin ever
cook anything?”

Hack chuckled. “She can open a
can.”

“
Then maybe I should call
her Miss Can Opener?” That made him bust out laughing. She laughed
with him, the pain in her hand dissipating as she ate.

When they finished, Hack cleaned up
the dishes, washing and drying. As he sat down at the computer, his
wristwatch alarm beeped. He shut it off and turned to Rory. “Do you
want me to read back the last paragraph?”

He’s not
leaving even though his time is up.
Her
heart swelled. She nodded to him, too choked up by his kindness.
Except for Shirley and Hal, people didn’t often go out of their way
for her. Rory cleared her throat, took a drink of water, and began
to dictate. She didn’t want to take advantage, so she cut the scene
short.

Hack got up and stretched. “Where’s
his leash?” Rory retrieved Baxter’s harness and leash and handed
them to Hack. He dressed the dog, grabbed a plastic bag from the
counter, plus her keys, and headed outside.

Rory stretched out on the sofa,
suddenly weary. Keeping a tight rein on her libido around Hack,
combined with the accident with the knife, had worn her
out.

Her eyelids fluttered as the door
opened, But she was too tired to move. Baxter jumped up on the sofa
and curled up in the crook of her knees. As her eyes were closing,
she felt a blanket being tucked around her and a hand stroking her
hair. The last thing she heard was the click of the lock before she
was asleep.

* * * *

During the course of the next week,
Hack forgot his lunch often, hoping Rory had planned something
delicious and had made enough for two. He was rewarded. The cooler
days inspired her to cook chili and then black bean soup from
scratch with hot dogs.

Hack rose early. He arrived at the
clinic by eight every morning, took care of paperwork, treated some
early morning patients, and then showed up at Rory’s by ten sharp.
He found himself whistling as he walked briskly in the chilly air
to her brownstone. His mind seesawed between the temptation of her
breasts and her cooking. His mouth watered at both
prospects.

The apartment that had seemed so
claustrophobic at first had become cozy, unlike his rambling
two-bedroom in The Royal on Central Park West. He looked forward to
climbing the three flights of stairs and sniffing the air for the
delicious scent of her concoctions and the whiff of lilac that
always lingered.

Since
their make-out session on the floor, they had stopped insulting
each other. Rory had continued to call Felicia names, delighting
Hack with her creativity.
Is she jealous
of Felicia? Does that mean she likes me?
Making out meant she liked him, though she had shown no signs
of wanting to reignite their spark.

Their
new easiness together made Hack comfortable with Rory.
Am I falling in love? Are we friends?
The idea of loving Rory sent him into a tailspin.
After all, he was supposedly engaged to Felicia, although they had
nothing sexual between them.