Nothing But Trouble (5 page)

As he opened the front door, the scent of
burnt toast blasted him in a wave of nauseating toxic fumes. Great.
Not only had Courtney broadsided him, but she'd made his whole
house smell like a fire pit.

"I'm rethinking my decision to give you my
spare key," he announced as he shut the door and walked farther
into the house.

"Then who will you call when you lock
yourself out?" she countered as she just came out of the kitchen
with two pieces of toast on a plate.

"That only happened once." R.J. stood back as
Courtney settled at the table and took a small bite of her meal.
Ever since her accident she'd left her hair its natural blonde,
which was unusual compared to the outrageous shades she used to
color it. She rarely ever did anything with it. The long strands
were often pulled back into a high ponytail. Long ago, she'd
removed her nose ring and her face was almost always make-up free.
The woman in front of him resembled his sister in looks, but
underneath was someone he didn't recognize. The most troubling
thing was that she repeatedly insisted she was fine.

"Why does everyone keep worrying about me?"
she used to demand when R.J. had questioned her about her
maid
services
.

"How many pieces of toast did you burn?" he
asked after taking a chair at the table with her.

"Just two. I'd sat down to go over my
appointments for tomorrow and lost track of time."

Now,
that
was typical of his
sister.

"You look like you had a busy day," Courtney
observed with a nod to his greasy shirt.

R.J. leaned back in his chair to stretch his
tired legs out. "And how busy was your day?" he countered.

"Yes, I was busy. My boss, Cynthia, put me in
charge of my first project today. It's a redesign of a guest
cottage."

"These poor people aren't going to end up
with zebra stripes on their walls, are they?"

She shoved a piece of toast in her mouth and
swiped away stray crumbs. "I know I have eccentric taste, but I'm
not that outrageous. And there's nothing wrong with infusing a
little personality into your home. Mr. I-Love-Beige," she
added.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "What's wrong
with beige?"

"Nothing," she answered with a lift of one
shoulder. "If you have no flare."

"I have plenty of flare."

Courtney picked up her toast, and gazed at
him. "Your choice of women doesn't count."

R.J. scrubbed a hand down his face. Damn, he
was tired. "Court―"

"When have I ever given you shit about how
you've screwed practically every single woman in this town, that
your love life has become a revolving door? I haven't always agreed
with it, and I think you know why, but that's beside the
point."

Whoa, what the hell?

She picked up her cell phone and glanced at
the screen. "Everybody's busy tonight. Rebecca never returned my
text message, and Lacy says Abigail has croup and she's stuck at
home with all four kids because Chase is at work. I thought about
going over there, but those boys give me a headache."

She kept rubbing her head, right around the
faint scar that ran from the side of her forehead to her cheek
bone. The scar wasn't that noticeable, just the remnants of a nasty
gash. But R.J. knew Court was sensitive about it. She'd always
claimed that was the reason her ex-fiancé Grant had skipped town;
because he hadn't been able to handle the physical scars of her
accident. R.J. suspected there was more to the story. The details
behind her mysterious engagement, then abrupt break-up, had been
fuzzy. That was something she hadn't been willing to share with the
rest of the family. Although he respected his sister's privacy,
R.J. was more than curious about it.

"What's the matter?" he asked when Courtney
kept rubbing her head.

"I just have a headache." She tossed the last
bite of toast in her mouth. "And I keep feeling like there was
something I was supposed to do today, but I can't remember
what."

"I hope it was nothing important."

"Me too." She stood from the table, gathered
her trash and disposed of it in the kitchen. When she came back she
asked him, "By the way, what did you do to piss Rebecca off?"

He waited before answering, but he wasn't
sure what to say. What she should have asked was "When do you
not
piss Rebecca off?" The answer would be "not very often."
Of course, her feathers were so easily ruffled. And they were such
pretty feathers. Sexy and irresistible feathers.

He leaned back in his chair and grinned. "I
dragged her into a closet and ravished her."

Courtney shot him a droll look. "And that
would be just like you, wouldn't it?"

No need to mention that he actually had done
that, though not with Rebecca. It had been one of many impulsive,
and stupid, moments as a teenager. But it had been damn fun.

"Don't answer that," his sister said with a
roll of her eyes.

"I wasn't planning to. And what makes you
think I did anything to her in the first place?"

Courtney lifted her shoulders in a
half-shrug. "I don't know. She sounded… odd. Like she was
distracted. She kept asking me to repeat myself when we talked
earlier."

"Again, why would you assume I did that to
her?" Was it a coincidence that Rebecca sounded distracted on the
same morning she had an encounter with him? Not likely. R.J. gladly
took full credit for that.

Courtney studied him for a moment, her blue
eyes zeroing on him like insights into his darkest thoughts. "No
reason," was all she said.

Okay, then. Whatever the hell that meant.
Courtney could be annoyingly cryptic when she wanted to be.

"Something's going on in that strange head of
yours," he said.

"Nothing stranger than usual," she said with
a half-smile. "I know you think you're sly, dear brother, but I
have your number."

R.J. didn't doubt that for a moment. No one
knew him better than his sister.

"One of these days, you're going to see
what's right in front of you." With those pearls of wisdom, she
gathered her bag and keys and walked out the front door.

Shit, R.J. saw Rebecca just fine. In fact, he
saw her too much. Too deeply. Wanting things he couldn't have and
had no business going after in the first place because Rebecca was
too good for him. Had it been smart to climb the trellis to her
bedroom room window? Smart to steal her virginity like the thief he
was?

No and hell no.

That night had started with a scorching kiss
in his parents' driveway when Rebecca had stopped by looking for
Courtney. She'd gotten him instead, and after he'd spent the day
seeing her everywhere he went in town, he'd reached his limit.

Rebecca had deserved better than someone like
him taking what he hadn't had a right to take. Sure she'd willingly
given it up because she'd been half in love with him. He'd gone to
her knowing how she felt about him, which made him the lowest of
assholes. But after spending summer after summer watching her run
around in cut off shorts and blooming into a gorgeous young woman,
he'd snapped.

Okay, yeah, underneath his care-free exterior
were feelings for her he'd been unwilling to explore. Because
they'd scared the shit out of him. They started with the letter L
and ended with a white picket fence.

****

It was only 8:05 and already her day had the
makings of a Twilight Zone episode. Actually, it had started last
night when she'd received a phone call from Dr. Gross, the man who
owned the practice where Rebecca worked. Apparently he'd received a
jury summons for which he was unable to get out of. He'd suggested
having all his appointments rescheduled, but Rebecca couldn't bring
herself to do so. Besides, he had a light patient lineup for the
day, and there was no reason why Rebecca couldn't work double time
and see his patients too.

At least, that had seemed like a good plan
until their only nurse came down with a nasty case of food
poisoning. Now Rebecca was supposed to see a day full of patients
with only herself, Erica, the physician's assistant, and Janet, who
manned the front desk. Of course she thought she could do it. There
was no reason why she couldn't juggle her patients and Dr. Gross's
as well.

Because Trouble was such a small town, and
they were only one of two practices, Rebecca knew all her patients
personally. She knew their names, their birthdays, and their
personalities. She knew her first patient, five year old Benjamin,
was ticklish on the bottom of his feet and always asked for a grape
sucker. Dr. Gross's patients, on the other hand, she knew next to
nothing about. Rebecca didn't like going into an appointment, not
knowing what she was dealing with. Studying charts helped. But
those were just numbers and information.

She hit a few keys on her laptop and pulled
up the next patient file. A ten year old girl named Lindsey, who
was scheduled for an 8:30 checkup. The girl was on a double-dose of
Adderall for ADHD and was due for her routine three month checkup.
Because Adderall was a highly addictive drug, all patients were
required to have an exam every three months, to make sure they
weren't abusing the drug. Rebecca thought it was odd that a girl as
young as ten was on a double dose of the drug. But, then again,
this was Dr. Gross's patient and Rebecca didn't know anything about
the situation. But according to her chart, she was diagnosed with
Type 1 classic ADHD, meaning she had a combination of
hyperactive-impulsivity and inattentiveness. It was the most common
form, and people tended to respond well to stimulant medications.
However, Rebecca noted in her chart, that Lindsey had been switched
from Adderall to Adderall XR, which was a once-a-day tablet. Then
Dr. Gross had increased the dosage to 30mg. The usual dosage was
20mg, because that was simply a double dose of regular Adderall.
30mg for a ten year old girl seemed rather high, but maybe her ADHD
had proven difficult to manage.

Rebecca pushed away from her desk and took a
sip of coffee. A second cup by eight a.m. was usually an omen of
how her day was going to go. Meaning, not good. Could be because
she'd gotten hardly any sleep the night before. Why? Well, she
wouldn't go there. The big, blond man with wide shoulders and green
eyes had already wreaked enough havoc with her nights. She did not
need him messing with her day. Soon enough, she'd see him. After
all, she still owed the deposit for her father's car, which she was
paying for and her mother would cover the rest. But she really did
not want to go back down there and be near him. And smell him. And
hear his deep voice. And see those callused, grease-stained hands
and remember how they'd felt on her.

She glanced at her watch and saw that it was
almost time for her first appointment. After that her day would be
a blur of one child after another. Most days, Rebecca wasn't able
to think straight until her day ended. Just as she stood from her
chair, her cell phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Is this a bad time?" R.J.'s deep voice
sounded very close and intimate in her ear.

It's always a bad time for you
.

She sank back down into her chair, and smiled
in spite of herself. "I have about ten minutes to spare."

"You're not still mad at me are you?"

"That depends on whether or not you want me
to be mad at you."

He paused before answering. "You're going to
do the opposite of whatever I say anyway, so does it really
matter?"

"No," she admitted.

His chuckle had the hair on the back of her
neck standing up. "Well, now that we have that cleared up, I have
the estimate on your father's car."

Rebecca had no earthly clue how much it would
cost, but her mother warned her it would be expensive. She was
expecting some ungodly amount, but the one R.J. hit her with just
about knocked the breath out of her.

"Are you there?" he asked after she hadn't
said anything.

She shook her head. "Yeah, sorry. It's just a
lot of money for one car."

"It's a long, detailed process. But trust me,
honey, I'm worth every penny."

Oh, why did he have to use "honey" in that
tone of voice? Like he was in the mood to drip actual honey on her
sensitive skin and lick it off.

When she found her voice, which wasn't easy,
she asked. "And the deposit is ten percent of that?"

"Yeah, you can come drop off a check
anytime."

Why don't I mail it instead? Or carrier
pigeon perhaps?
"It'll be after six," she said.

"I'll be here."

She swore he was going to add the word
alone
, like he was inviting her to some forbidden tryst.

You already had one of those with him. You
do
not
need to have another one.

"One more thing," he said as she was going to
hang up before she started panting.

"What?" she asked in a near whisper.

"Your calves don't need toning."

The call ended without giving Rebecca a
chance to respond. But what would she have said? "I'm thrilled you
were checking me out?" Even if the thrill came from the deep place
inside her where all her R.J. feelings were stored. Every once in a
while that vault would open and a little zing would sneak out. It
always caught her by surprise, even if she really wasn't that
surprised.

She set her cell phone down and refused to
think about R.J. Devlin anymore. Or, at least the next few hours.
Seeing him later would ensure another sleepless night. Because
every time she crawled into her bed, she remembered what it had
felt like to have him crawl in there with her. The memory of his
weight and how his long legs had hung off the end of her bed.

She rubbed her head in order to ward off the
start of a headache. "Stop thinking about that night," she
whispered to herself.