Second Time Around (7 page)

K
evin juggled his work schedule to accommodate the new project. After hiring another crew and evaluating the clinic structure, he met with the electrician, the city's building inspector and a medical design consultant to make final changes on the renovation blueprints.

So far, Kevin had only seen Emily from a distance. Every time he drove into the parking lot and saw her sporty little car, he thought of the night spent taking care of her. He thought of how good it had felt to be with her, to hold her, to imagine the past was just a bad dream. But it wasn't. That night after the reception was the dream. A dream he didn't dare repeat.

He had a job to do, and nothing, and no one would come between him and its completion.

Kevin wiped the dust from his eyes, tired of fighting the spring wind. It was a miserable day to be removing windows, but he didn't have the luxury of changing the schedule. There would be enough un
avoidable delays as it was, and there just wasn't that much extra time built into the contract.

As he moved in and out of the building, he could hear Emily laughing with the nurses, talking to patients and rearranging her schedule to help out the other staff. Kevin watched her leave at noon with the pastor who had performed Laura and Bryan's wedding. She returned looking carefree and happy, and Kevin was surprised to find himself wishing it were him bringing a smile to her face.

By midday, though, he could see the signs of stress. Was it her career, or his presence, or a really lousy day? he wondered. The smile she plastered on her face when their paths crossed was as forced as his own. He knew it, and no doubt so did Emily.

Don't get any ideas. She's a doctor now.

Kevin had lost faith in the medical profession when false hope had led his parents down a spiraling path in search of a miracle cure for his father's terminal illness. While his mom and dad had run from one doctor to another, across the continent and back, Kevin had attempted to run the family business. A year and a half later, when the residential construction market hit an all-time low, the business was all but gone, and so was his father.

Looking back, he realized there was no way a twenty-three-year-old son could have done anything differently. It was their money, their business, their decision.

Yet there were days when he felt that all he had achieved was to prolong his father's agony. While doctors had fed his parents' hopes, Kevin did the only thing he could to help—he kept the business operating. Despite Kevin's suggestions to revive the
company, his older brother, Alex, convinced the family that it was safest to abandon the business in order to salvage a comfortable cushion for their mother to live on. With three younger siblings to worry about, Kevin swallowed his pride and closed the doors of MacIntyre and Sons, Incorporated.

Now it was just MacIntyre Construction. There would be no “Sons.” Of that he was convinced. It had taken two years of back-breaking hours, working for someone else, before he'd been able to bankroll his own company. And finally, everything was falling into place, just as scheduled.

Right before calling it a day, Kevin called one of the new men over to help him nail plywood over the opening left from removing a window. Kevin sent Tom to the top of the scaffolding while he maneuvered the scrap into place. Both picked up their nail guns and began shooting nails into the wood.

Kevin felt a sharp pain in his upper arm and jumped back. The plywood broke loose and knocked him against the scaffolding. “What—!” He pushed the wood away, then turned his head, shocked to find a sixteen-penny nail protruding from his shoulder. “You shot me!”

“I what?” Tom jumped from the scaffolding, the commotion drawing attention from not only the crew, but the clinic business, as well. Kevin heard screams. A few minutes later, a nurse ran outside.

Kevin yanked the nail from his arm and immediately pressed his fingers on the injury. He looked down at the red stain on his flannel shirt.
I hate blood.

The nurse rushed over to him. “You okay?” As she said it, she pulled his hand away from the injury,
then pressed it back again. “Let's go inside where we can clean that and take a better look.” Kevin willingly followed, thankful he didn't have to do that himself.

As they walked inside, the nurse kept glancing at him. “You feeling okay?”

“Fine.” It was an exaggeration, but in a few minutes it would be true. He hoped.

“You're the boss, right? Kevin, isn't it?” She had a look of interest that he'd seen way too many times in the years since his broken engagement.

He tried to be polite. “Yeah, and you're…?”

She smiled eagerly. Too eagerly, he thought.
A year ago, I might have been interested, but not now.

“Lois,” she replied, motioning for him to go into the examination room to the right. “You'll need to remove your shirt so I can clean that up.” She turned her attention to the cabinet, pulling out a tray with a pile of gauze and some brownish liquid on it. He could almost smell the stench of iodine, and recalled memories of his mother cleaning his numerous cuts when he was a child.

He looked at the cut as he removed the shirt.
This is going to sting like crazy!

The nurse examined his shoulder, and he looked away. He felt her dab at it with the damp gauze, tug on it, then dab some more. “Hmm. When was your last tetanus shot?”

Kevin looked at the brunette, trying to remain calm. The one thing he hated more than blood was needles. “Not too long ago,” he assured her.

“Do you remember approximately what year? Maybe one year ago, five, ten?” She dug through the drawer, seeming unhappy that the item she was look
ing for hadn't been restocked. She pulled an empty box from the cabinet and threw it away.

He mumbled a reply, not certain exactly which answer would satisfy her enquiring mind.

She laughed, and he realized he hadn't passed the test. “Don't waste your time, Lois. I don't need any shot. Just put a bandage over it, and I'll get out of your way.”

“Let me get some supplies, and I'll have you back to work before you know it.”

There was no problem, he assured himself when she left the room. She was getting a new box of bandages, was all. But the longer she took, the more nervous he became.
What's taking so long?

Tentatively, he lifted the gauze from his shoulder and took a peek. All he needed was something to cover the cut. He stepped away from the table to look for a bandage himself. Not seeing any, he grabbed his shirt and headed for the door.

Dr. Emily intercepted him trying to escape. “Kevin? Where are you going?”

He lifted his eyebrows, almost pleased that she was no longer going out of her way to avoid him.

“Nice to see you, too, Doc, but maybe another time. I'm late to work.”

“Not so fast. I understand you have a wound that may need…”

Kevin began to pull his shirt back on. The bleeding had almost stopped. “I'll just get a bandage from my own first-aid kit.” There was no way he was going to let her near him with a needle.

She blocked Kevin's exit. “I need to see it, Kevin.” Lois filed in behind the doctor with a plas
tic-covered tray containing several metal tools and bandages.

“Wait just a minute, here,” Kevin stammered as he tried to step around the doctor, his hands in front of him as if to stop them both. “Emily… Wait, wait.” He took a step backward and ran into the examination table.

“It's okay. It'll just take a minute. Let me look at it, Kevin.” She stepped closer.

He moved to the side. “No, Emily.”

He bumped into Lois, and jumped even higher.

Emily took hold of his arm. “Just let me look at it,” she said calmly, a teasing look of satisfaction in her gaze. “We may not need anything except a tetanus shot.” Her voice was authoritative yet soft, her touch strangely comforting, and her gaze—totally
un
businesslike.

If Tom hadn't made such a ruckus over a little mishap, I wouldn't be in this mess,
Kevin thought.

Emily turned and reached for a bottle marked Saline Solution and a wad of gauze. “I'm going to irrigate it, make sure we get it good and clean,” she explained.

Kevin recalled the tubes, needles and IVs that had failed to save his dad's life, and he began breathing more quickly. When Emily reached for his shoulder he ran out of the room and down the hall. He saw a back door marked Exit and bolted through it.

“Kevin!” Emily followed him through the exit, running right into a construction worker who was trying to complete the job Kevin and Tom had started. Had his employee not caught her, she would have landed in the mud.

Kevin turned in time to see Emily breaking free from the man's embrace.

He jumped onto a pile of plywood, stumbling as he leapt off, intending to hit the ground running. His shirt half on and half off, Kevin made a beeline to his truck. He'd get some ointment and a bandage, and fix his wound himself.

Catcalls followed Emily across the uneven ground, where an audience now gathered. Lois poked her head out the door, patients paused to watch, and even the crew watched with raised eyebrows as Kevin and his ex-fiancée danced circles around each other. Emily caught up to him as he pulled the first-aid kit from the back of the truck.

Kevin looked up, surprised by the firm warning in her green eyes. “This is ridiculous, Kevin. You can't even remember when you had your last tetanus shot!”

He held up his hands to stop her. “Thanks, anyway, Doc, I don't do needles. I'll just put a bandage on it.” He winked. “I promise to take very good care of it.”

His humor wasn't appreciated. Emily placed her hands on her hips, as if he were a defiant child. “You bullheaded fool. This isn't worthy of such a scene, Kevin. You can't take that kind of a risk.” She took another step closer, and he backed away, stumbling over a clump of mud.

“Wanna bet?”

She let out a gasp of exasperation, then looked over her shoulder toward the people laughing and whispering behind her. “You're behaving like a child,” she scolded through gritted teeth.

He forced himself not to smile. He loved the way
her eyes turned to a deep teal when she was mad. The dusting of freckles that bridged her nose seemed to glow like stars in the night sky. And her hair shimmered in the sunlight like a blazing fire.

“You can't afford to take a chance at getting lock-jaw, Kevin. It can kill you.”

He tried again and again to convince her that he didn't need any shot, but she remained firm, resorting to threats of making his crew help hold him down.

“You'd love that, wouldn't you? To make a fool out of me.”

She smiled. “I don't need to—you're the one running away.” She held up her fingers to show an inch. “It's a tiny needle. You'll hardly feel a thing.”

“Famous last words.” He hesitated, and the doctor made her closing argument.

“You could show a little faith in me, you know. Remember, I'm the doctor, you're the builder.”

Kevin allowed his gaze to roam, noticed a frightened little boy watching. As much as he hated to admit it, he realized Emily was right. “Okay, I'll do it, but be gentle, would you?”

He followed Emily back into the clinic, watching her every step of the way. If things were different… But they weren't. There was no way he could be satisfied with a casual relationship with this woman. He had loved her too much, too deeply to make walking away a second time bearable.

Lois was waiting at the door.

“I'll take care of this, Lois, thanks.” Emily stepped past the nurse, then waited in the hall while he went into the room and took his shirt off. Emily moved with confidence, trying to clean the wound gently, as Kevin studied the magazines, the lighting,
the wallpaper peeling away from the corner—anything rather than looking at what she was doing.

“This might sting,” she explained, holding up the bottle of brown liquid. “This should prevent an infection.” She soaked a gauze pad and pressed it firmly over the wound, and he felt the liquid burn its way deep into the tissue of his arm.

As she opened the new box of bandage strips, Emily told him how to care for the wound, explained the indications of infection, and that he could expect a sore arm after receiving the tetanus shot. He suspected most of her spiel was to avoid the conversation turning personal.

A lot had changed about her, he realized. When they had first met, she'd been painfully shy, blushing when he took his T-shirt off to dive into the swimming pool. She'd been quiet and reserved, a sharp contrast to his own personality. He supposed that was what had first attracted him to her. She was a beautiful, intelligent woman with a giving heart. That much was the same. She was gorgeous, smart and still generous to a fault. But she'd also become stronger and more assertive. If possible, that made her even more attractive.

When he looked up, her gaze darted away as if she'd been caught admiring him.
Don't flatter yourself, Kevin. She's a doctor now. Seeing a man's chest is probably an hourly occurrence.
He wanted to laugh at the irony of his sitting here letting his ex-fiancée treat him.
Talk about playing with fire.

She approached his opposite arm with the syringe, and her gaze strayed to his bare chest, then back to his face. Her cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink,
and Kevin fought the satisfaction of realizing he
wasn't
just any other patient.

Despite trying to stop it, his smile turned to a chuckle. “Not much has changed after all, has it?” Before the words were out of his mouth, she stuck the needle into his biceps, and none too gently.

Kevin looked at his arm, felt a cold sweat spread across his chest and face. “Ouch. I thought you said it wouldn't hurt!”

Satisfaction twitched her mouth. “Consider yourself lucky it didn't have to go into the hip.”