The Back-Up Plan Page 7

  “What a mess.”

  Furniture sat about in no particular arrangement. Moving boxes were stacked here and there. She scolded herself for caring one way or the other what he thought.

  The doorbell sounded again. Donna bolted from the door. Geez! A person could get a heart attack leaning against doors around here. She blew a wisp of hair out of her eyes. Now what?

  She yanked the door open, half expecting someone from one of the local churches or a door-to-door salesman. Oh, God, it was worse. Patty—more than twenty minutes early. And somewhere upstairs Hank Bradley frolicked with Melissa. Donna hadn’t missed her sister’s less than subtle matchmaking hints. This would only add fuel to the fire.

  “Are you going to invite me in or do you plan to just keep standing there with your mouth hanging open?” Patty asked, instantly attuned to her sister’s discord. Her gaze darted past Donna and around the downstairs hall.

  “Sorry...I was painting in the kitchen,” Donna said, patting herself on the back for the quick save.

  Patty slipped past her. “Where’s Melissa?”

  The moment of truth. “Well, I—”

  “Aunt Patty, look who came to see my new room!”

  Donna stared in disbelief at her daughter descending the stairs atop Hank Bradley’s shoulders, a fistful of his thick hair in each hand. Holding on to the door helped Donna to maintain an upright position, otherwise she would probably have been flat on the floor about now.

  “Mr. Bradley.” A wide smile splitting her face, Patty met Hank at the bottom of the stairs and extracted Melissa from his broad shoulders. “Fancy meeting you here.” She looked from Hank to Donna and beamed with pure satisfaction. “I hear we won our first game last night.”

  “That’s a fact,” he said proudly as he combed his fingers through his mussed hair. “I came by to discuss Chip Stevens with Dr. Jacobs.” His eyes darted briefly to Donna. “Melissa gave me the grand tour of her new room.” His lips flowed into a charming smile as naturally as breathing.

  “Chip Stevens,” Donna mumbled. He hadn’t said anything about him.

  Patty shot her a questioning glance. “He’s okay, isn’t he?” she asked, her suspicious expression momentarily shifting to concern.

  “Yeah, he’s fine,” Hank answered. “His family doctor saw him yesterday and said pretty much the same thing Dr. Jacobs did.” He slanted Donna another quick look.

  “Good.” Patty reached for Melissa’s hand. “Are you ready, young lady?” Melissa nodded, already urging Patty toward the door. “My girls are in the car, so we’d better get moving.”

  “Have a good time,” Donna managed, still clutching the door for support. She dropped a quick peck on the top of Melissa’s sweet head as she passed.

  Good-byes exchanged, Patty’s questioning gaze lingered on Donna a second or two longer before she was pulled out the door by Melissa.

  Donna shut the door behind them and steeled herself as she faced her daughter’s teacher. “What’s this about Chip Stevens?”

  “I thought we were having coffee.”

  Donna glanced at the white bag she clutched. She’d completely forgotten about that. Coffee. Sure, why not? She had always been a glutton for punishment. Things couldn’t possibly get any worse anyway. “Have a seat, Mr. Bradley.” Donna thrust the bag at him and nodded toward the living room. “Do you take cream or sugar?”

  “Black works for me.”

  While Melissa’s teacher examined the collage of family pictures on the hall table, Donna made a beeline for the kitchen. She shook her head as she considered that she had definitely lost any good sense she ever commanded. No matter how Melissa begged, she shouldn’t have let him in. Chip Stevens was fine; Hank Bradley had said so himself. They had nothing else to discuss.

  She grabbed another cup and plopped it on the counter, the clatter making her jump. Why couldn’t she and Bradley simply have a normal parent-teacher relationship? Why oh why did he have to turn her inside out? Donna pressed her palms against the cool counter. She willed her heart rate to slow. Okay, girl, take a deep breath. You can do this. She reached for the coffeepot, her hand steadier now, and poured his cup full.

  “Yellow, huh?”

  She almost dropped the pot when she whirled around to find him standing in the middle of her kitchen. He made a strange face—not quite a frown, but something on that order—as he inspected the can of yellow paint.

  “Great color.” His odd expression mellowed as the corners of his mouth kicked upwards once more.

  “I’m glad you approve.” She extended the cup of coffee in his direction. The paint on her brush was drying. Darn it, she was supposed to be in here transforming her kitchen not fielding ridiculous urges just because he was in the room.

  “Thanks.” He took the cup and, without waiting to be asked, sat down at the table.

  Resigned to her fate, Donna poured herself another cup though she didn’t really want one. She sure didn’t need more caffeine but the cup would give her something to do with her hands. She took a seat directly across from him—Hank Bradley. The man she wanted nothing to do with. The man she didn’t even want to look at, but couldn’t seem to stop doing just that.

  “What’s your pleasure, Doc, cherry or cheese?” he asked, offering the open bag.

  Donna swallowed against the sudden dryness in her mouth. His whimsical expression made her pulse more unstable. Not even Brick had made her feel this way with just a look. How could Hank be all that she despised and everything she desired at the same time?

  Ignore the way he looks, Donna. He’s just a guy. Melissa’s teacher.

  “No, thank you.” She hated the way he called her doc. It was entirely too familiar.

  He dropped the bag in the middle of the table and stared at his untouched coffee.

  Donna waited.

  Silence.

  “You wanted to speak with me regarding Chip Stevens?”

  He glanced up from his cup just long enough to say, “Yeah.”

  If Donna hadn’t known better she would have sworn that he was nervous, but guys like him didn’t get nervous.

  “Mr. Bradley—”

  “Hank. Call me Hank.”

  “Hank.” Donna conceded. “I have a great deal to do today. If you have something to say...”

  His gaze leveled on hers. “I need to know where you stand on what happened with Stevens.”

  “Where I stand?” She frowned at the question as well as the measure of uncertainty she heard in his voice. “What exactly do you mean?”

  “Our esteemed principal paid me a little visit this morning. Not a very pleasant visit.” He paused to stare into the black liquid in his cup for another second or two. “The bottom line is, she wants me to take Stevens off the team. She thinks he’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.”

  “And you disagree?”

  “You’re damned right I disagree.” He flattened his hands on the table as if he needed someplace to keep them to prevent tearing into something. “Stevens has worked hard to be a member of the team. At first I was a little skeptical myself. But like I told you Thursday, I did my research and I found no reason not to let him play. It would break his heart if I took him off the team now.”

  “So, what did you say to Ms. Masters?”

  “I told her I wouldn’t do it.”

  “I don’t mean to sound unsympathetic, but why are you telling me all this?”

  “Since Stevens’ parents and personal physician will back me up, that only leaves you. As the treating physician when the episode occurred, Masters will want to know how you see things.”

  “Oh.” So, he needed an ally in his battle with Ms. Masters. Patty’s comment about there being trouble between the two came to mind.

  “After what happened in the field house Thursday, I just wanted to make sure that your opinion of me wouldn’t color your position on Stevens.”

  Now that annoyed her. “Mr. Bradley—”

  “Hank,” he corrected.

 
“Hank,” she amended with growing impatience. “What I think of you has absolutely nothing to do with my medical opinion of the Stevens boy.”

  “Good,” he said, and then frowned. “I think.”

  “If Ms. Masters questions me regarding his seizure, I will give her that opinion only.”

  “Which is?” Hank prodded.

  Donna clasped her hands in front of her and released an impatient breath. Maybe if she gave him what he wanted he would leave. “Stevens had that seizure because he hadn’t been taking his medication properly. In all likelihood, the seizure would have occurred even if he had been lying on his own couch watching television. If his personal physician okayed his participation in contact sports, I can think of no medical reason that would impel me to say otherwise. Personally, I can’t see how Stevens would be in any more danger than any other kid on the team.”

  “That’s just what I wanted to hear.” Hank relaxed visibly, his relief almost palpable. “I appreciate you backing me up.”

  Donna’s nerves were more than a little frayed from this whole experience. Bradley stepped on her professional toes by assuming her answer backed him up or took his side. “There’s no need to thank me, Mr. B—Hank. My medical opinion has nothing to do with either you or Ms. Masters.”

  That charming smile returned to his lips. “I like the way your eyes sparkle when you get fired up, Doc.”

  “I’m not fired up.”

  He chuckled, but it came out sounding more like a sigh. “Yes, you are.”

  Oh, the man infuriated her! He had no idea what she was or was not. Donna stood, seeing her opportunity to end the maddening conversation. “I really have to get back to work now.” She turned her back on him and moved to the sink to put her cup away, trying not to think about how rude she had just been.

  “It’s worse than I thought.”

  Donna spun around to find him moving in her direction. From the moment he showed up at her door she had focused on his beard-shadowed face and impossibly wide shoulders, not permitting her gaze to drop any lower. But now, she held her breath and gave in to the temptation as he came closer. She took in all of him. Shoulders strained against the fabric of his well-worn gray tee-shirt. Short sleeves encircled strong arms tanned to a golden brown. A mile-wide chest. Narrow waist. Faded denim encased long, muscular legs. He looked rumpled and sexy and...dangerous.

  Things had just gotten worse.

  Heat burned in her cheeks when she realized he was watching her watch him. He smiled. Her heart lurched. Time seemed to lapse into slow motion as he eliminated the length of vinyl-covered floor between them. When he stopped, she was trapped between the counter and his powerful body.

  “I just want you to know that I’m not the kind of guy you think I am.”

  She held her breath in an effort to slow her racing heart. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Yes you do.” He leaned in closer, resting a hand against the counter on either side of her. “Be honest, Doc. Tell me what you really think of me.”

  Donna eased back as far as the counter would allow and still she couldn’t get enough distance between them. She reminded herself of all the things she disliked about him, but only one came out of her mouth. “You’re a jock.”

  “Well, I can’t deny that.” His mouth twitched with the effort of fending off a smile. “Is that bad?”

  “I—” She wished she could breathe but if she did she would draw in that sexy scent of his. “I don’t care for the arrogance that generally goes with the tough guy type.”

  The smile broke loose, spreading wide. “I’m no tough guy,” he whispered, seeming closer, his lips both threatening and promising a kiss. “I’m just a guy.”

  “Thank you for clearing that up, but I really should get back to my painting.” She gestured vaguely.

  His gaze dropped to her mouth. “You know, when I was a kid I played in this house.”

  “Oh?” She’d intended to sound disinterested, not breathless.

  “A good friend of mine, Dan Langford, grew up in this house,” Hank explained, sounding a bit winded himself. “I had my first kiss right here in this kitchen.”

  The heat radiating from his body seemed to scorch her. “This kiss”—she began, fighting the urge to sway closer to him—“it had nothing to do with your friend, Dan, I hope.”

  Hank’s smile evolved into a low breathy chuckle. “It had nothing to do with Dan,” he said softly, seeming closer still, though she knew he hadn’t moved. “And everything to do with his older sister, Natalie.”

  His charm worked its magic, but she resisted. “You really should go.”

  He made no move to do as she asked.

  Didn’t he know when he was being thrown out? Donna had to get it through his thick head that she had boundaries—boundaries she had no intention of violating. Just being close to him was playing with fire. Her best intentions had flown out the window the moment he walked through the door.

  “You don’t trust me?” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers stirring a tingle that made the bottom drop out of her stomach.

  Donna tilted her head away from his touch. “No, it’s not just you.” She swallowed tightly. “I don’t trust us together. Whenever we’re together things become...intense. Like now.” Every cell in her body hummed with desire.

  “And you’re not comfortable with that?”

  “I think,” she said and then took a tiny, but much needed gasp of air, “it would be best if we kept our relationship on a more professional level. I don’t want to get involved with anyone right now. Especially you.” There. She’d said it. His eyes continued their intense probing. Why did he have to look at her that way?

  “You’re right.” His voice turned coaxing as he toyed with her shirttail. “I promise myself at least a dozen times a day that the next time I see you I won’t feel like this. That I won’t...want you. But it never works.”

  His words…all of him had her ready to throw caution to the wind. She bit her lip to prevent its trembling and allowed her gaze to meet his, Donna saw the one thing she didn’t want to see. Need. A need that shook her to the very core of her being. Lust or desire she could handle, but not need. Need drew on her protective instincts—her most basic, primal instinct.

  “I’m not such a bad guy once you get to know me.” He lifted a single finger under her chin. “You might even like me.”

  He trailed that finger down her throat, leaving a path of fire. Her brain screamed at her to flee, but her body refused to obey. “I’m not interested in liking you that way.”

  “If I kissed you right now,” he moistened his lips, which hovered just above hers, “would you be able to back that up?”

  His breath, warm and smelling of sweet pastries, fanned her face. She struggled to control the trembling that had started in her knees and worked its way upward. In a last ditch effort to save the moment, she threw up a shaky hand, staying any idea he might have of putting his words into action. “Don’t. We hardly know each other and clearly have nothing in common.”

  Hank took her trembling hand in his, altering her heart’s rhythm once more. “We have at least two things in common.”

  “Such as?” Why in the world did she even ask?

  “Melissa for one.” His knowing smile created an audible hitch in her breathing. He caressed her palm over and over with the pad of his thumb. “Chemistry for another.”

  She tugged her hand free of his and sent her legs another message to move, which they promptly ignored.

  Donna counted backwards from ten. Slowly, very slowly. Chemistry or no, she was going to get back in control. Hank Bradley was not going to have his way with her a second time. “Is there a point to this conversation?”

  He laughed softly. The sound rippled through her, dashing at newly found fortitude. “No point,” he said in a low, husky voice. “Just fair warning.”

  “Warning?” she squeaked.

  “I haven’t been able to think
about much else since you strolled into town.” His blue eyes sparkled with way too much self-assurance now. “So I figure why fight it? I’d like to get to know you better.”

  Of all the arrogant, audacious displays of male ego! He was telling her what his intentions were! “Is that your stock pick up line? If you think for one minute that just because I’m single and attracted to you that I’m an easy target for your overactive sex drive you can forget it!”

  “No.” He shook his head. “It’s not like that at all. I like you. I like you a lot.” He shrugged. “I want us to be friends.”

  “Friends?” She suspected his idea of friends included benefits.

  “For starters. Maybe things will develop from there. After all, you just admitted that you’re attracted to me.”

  Donna balled her fists and stiffened her spine. She had a life and a career to get back in order. She didn’t need him insinuating himself into her wreck of a life “I’m not interested in letting things develop.” She pushed against his arm. “If you’ll please step aside, I have work to do.”

  Hank dropped his arm. Donna bolted. She took an unsteady breath and lifted a shaky hand toward the door. “Good day, Mr. Bradley.”

  He jammed his hands into his pockets, took a deep breath, and headed for the front door. Donna trailed him, thanking God every step of the way that he was on his way out.

  At the door he opened it and turned to face her. “I know you’re upset with me about Thursday. But, I promise that won’t happen again. The next time I kiss you it’ll be because you ask me to. I won’t lay a hand on you without a clear invitation.”

  Oh all the nerve! “Do you expect me to believe anything you say after what just happened here?” Thankfully, she was feeling more confident now that she practically had him out the door.

  “You have my word. Just friends. No touching. No kissing.” A secretive smile on his lips, he added, “Until you say otherwise.”

  Until—not unless. The man was incorrigible. But what could she do? Move? Of course not. She couldn’t survive that any more than she could another of these intense encounters. She would just have to trust him to keep his word, because she sure couldn’t seem to trust herself.