Baby, Drive South. Stephanie Bond

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СКАЧАТЬ to gather the toiletries she’d used. Her movements were furtive, which was ridiculous, she realized. It wasn’t as if she was doing anything wrong. In fact, she was correcting a mistake. Coming here made her realize how good she’d had it in Broadway. And if she went back, no one could say Darren Rocha’s public disposal of her had humiliated her so much she’d had to leave.

      Even though it was true.

      She was so deep in thought, a knock startled her. With her heart thumping, Nikki made her way to the door and, in deference to her nearly repacked suitcase on the bed, opened it only a crack. She didn’t want to tip off any of the women that she was leaving.

      Only it wasn’t a woman on the other side.

      “Hi,” Porter Armstrong said with a pained smile. His cobalt-blue eyes were a little hazy, and he was leaning heavily on his crutches. He had, she noticed, found a shirt—a pale blue T-shirt that stretched agreeably across his biceps and shoulders.

      Nikki’s pulse picked up. “Is something wrong, Mr. Armstrong?”

      “Nope. I came to talk to you. Can I—er, may I come in?”

      She shifted uncomfortably in the three-inch wide opening, trying to shield the suitcase from his view. “I’d rather you didn’t. Did you come up the stairs on your crutches?”

      “Thought it would be good practice.” Then he made a rueful noise. “Guess I didn’t realize how much it would take out of me.”

      Nikki felt contrite, then opened the door and waved him inside. But she left the door open as he settled himself, of all places, on her bed next to her suitcase.

      An acrid aroma filtered into her lungs. “What’s that smell?”

      “Oh.” He grinned. “It’s wintergreen oil. Doc Riley says it’s good for swelling and pain.”

      After she’d given him legitimate medical care, he’d sought a second opinion from the resident aromatherapist? Nikki set her jaw. “So are the prescription medications I gave you.”

      “I know, but the oil can’t hurt, can it?”

      Nikki dabbed at the corners of her watering eyes. “Only the sensibilities of the people who have to be around you.”

      His eyes danced. “I grow on people, kind of like this smell.”

      Beyond frustrated by his mere presence, Nikki folded her arms. “What’s on your mind, Mr. Armstrong?”

      He surveyed the full suitcase on her bed, then took in the one sitting next to her empty closet. “Going somewhere?”

      She bristled. “I just haven’t unpacked yet. I’ve been busy, if you recall.”

      He nodded. “Sorry about that. I really appreciate you patching me up, little lady doc.”

      “I took an oath to ‘patch people up.’ You didn’t have to come all the way up here to thank me, Mr. Armstrong.”

      He was glancing all around. “Nice room. Do you like it?”

      She wet her lips. “Yes.”

      “Any complaints?”

      “Hot water would be nice.”

      He looked offended. “There should be plenty of hot water.”

      “Well, there wasn’t a drop when I took a shower.”

      He pushed to his feet and hobbled to the bathroom on his crutches. “Are you sure? Did you turn the knob to the left?”

      Nikki stuck her tongue into her cheek as he invaded what was supposed to be a private space. “You mean toward the big red ‘H’? Yes, I figured that one out.”

      But he apparently didn’t believe her because he opened the glass shower door, reached in and turned on the water, twisting the knob all the way to the left. He leaned on one crutch, and stuck his large hand under the stream. Unbidden, Nikki’s thoughts went to being naked in the shower with this man. She gave herself a mental shake, and congratulated herself for making the decision to leave. The last thing she needed was a crush on a gorgeous man who made her feel bad about herself.

      His frown deepened. “I calculated carefully for how many and the right size of water heaters to install. Up to two women in a room times ten gallons of water.”

      “Ten gallons of water?” she asked, confused.

      He nodded, then gestured to the fixtures. “We installed low-flow shower heads that deliver about eight gallons of water for a five-minute shower. I used ten gallons in the calculations to make sure there would be enough hot water for a hundred showers in a short period of time.”

      He looked so proud of himself Nikki almost hated to burst his bubble. But when she could no longer hold it in, she laughed into her hand.

      “What’s so funny?” he asked.

      “I don’t know any woman who takes a five-minute shower.”

      “Really?” He looked panicked, and in the space of a few seconds, Nikki realized how clueless this ladies’ man was about ladies. Obviously he had no sisters and had never been married, had never cohabitated with a girlfriend…and apparently, had never even taken a shower with a woman.

      “Really,” she said, unable to hide her amusement.

      He scratched his head. “This isn’t good.”

      Nikki almost felt sorry for him…but didn’t. “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” She didn’t add she wouldn’t be around to observe the outcome. Nikki walked back to the main room and stood next to the open door, hoping he would follow. He did, slowly, navigating around the woven throw rugs on the bare wood floors. Every time he swung his body forward on the crutches, the thick muscles in his arms contracted.

      Nikki had to avert her gaze.

      He stopped next to her bed and leaned over, then used the rubber tip of his crutch to lift the muslin bed skirt. “Is your pussycat hiding?” he asked, craning his neck.

      Nikki crossed her arms. “Goodbye, Mr. Armstrong.”

      The hallway was filled with the sounds of the women leaving their rooms, presumably for the barbecue. Their voices were high-pitched, punctuated with giggles and the click-clack of sandals and high heels.

      Porter glanced toward the hallway, then back to her with those piercing blue eyes. “Actually, doc, I came to ask if you’d walk down to the barbecue with me. I’m sorry for the things I said earlier—it was a bad joke. I’m really not such a terrible guy once you get to know me.”

      Nikki hesitated, allowing her imagination to indulge in the fantasy of spending the evening “getting to know” Porter Armstrong. Any red-blooded woman would relish being in the company of this big, good-looking Southern boy for a few hours, and she was human. And the intensity of his kiss still teased her mouth like a mischievous shadow. But warning bells sounded in her head. That kiss hadn’t been intended for her—her mouth had simply been within reach. And she’d heard the man’s unflattering opinion СКАЧАТЬ