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It Started At Christmas...
Janice Lynn
All she wants for Christmas is…him!This Christmas, Dr McKenzie Sanders knows exactly what she wants in her stocking—her gorgeous colleague, Lance Spencer. He’s a sexy, brilliant, caring doctor and, best of all, he’s just as averse to walking down the aisle as she is!They agree to indulge in a sizzling fling that will absolutely not end in wedded bliss. But even the best laid plans can go awry… Will risking their hearts lead to wedding bells?


All she wants for Christmas is...him!
This Christmas Dr. McKenzie Sanders knows exactly what she wants in her stocking—her gorgeous colleague Lance Spencer. He’s a sexy, brilliant, caring doctor—and, best of all, he’s just as averse to walking down the aisle as she is!
They agree to indulge in a sizzling fling that will absolutely not end in wedded bliss. But even the best-laid plans can go awry... Will risking their hearts lead to wedding bells?
“You can have two months, but not a day more,” she said.
Staring at the oh-so-hot naked man in her bed, McKenzie clutched the sheet to her. Please agree with me, she pleaded silently. She couldn’t fathom not repeating the magic she’d just experienced, but she would do just that if he didn’t agree.
Already she was risking too much. She didn’t want a future that might lead her down the path her parents had taken. Bachelorettehood was the life for her, all the way. Hearing Lance agree that they’d end things in two months was necessary for them to carry on. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—risk anything longer.
“Promise me,” she urged.
“Two months sounds absolutely perfect,” he said.
Dear Reader (#ulink_01b01dc0-542a-518c-a98c-375d74533531),
Christmas time is here! I’m so blessed to be able to write another Christmas story. I love the holidays and romance, so what could be better than combining the two?
Dr Lance Spencer is a hero I immediately fell for. Kind, generous, fun, witty and a bit tortured, he stole my heart. Unfortunately it takes him a while to win over my heroine. Then again, McKenzie’s an independent woman who knows what she wants in life—and it isn’t to be tied down to a man. But the holidays sure are a lot more fun with Lance at her side, so McKenzie agrees to a two-month relationship that leads them down a path that ultimately makes every day feel like Christmas.
I hope you enjoy their story as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, I enjoy hearing from my readers at Janice@janicelynn.net. Happy Holidays—and I hope Santa is good to you!
Love,
Janice
It Started at Christmas...
Janice Lynn


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
JANICE LYNN has a Master’s in Nursing from Vanderbilt University, and works as a nurse practitioner in a family practice. She lives in the southern United States with her husband, their four children, their Jack Russell—appropriately named Trouble—and a lot of unnamed dust bunnies that have moved in since she started her writing career. To find out more about Janice and her writing visit janicelynn.com (http://www.janicelynn.com).
Books by Janice Lynn
Mills & Boon Medical Romance
The Doctor’s Damsel in Distress
Flirting with the Society Doctor
Challenging the Nurse’s Rules
NYC Angels: Heiress’s Baby Scandal
The ER’s Newest Dad
After the Christmas Party...
Flirting with the Doc of Her Dreams
New York Doc to Blushing Bride
Winter Wedding in Vegas
Sizzling Nights with Dr Off-Limits
Visit the Author Profile page at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) for more titles.
Janice won The National Readers’ Choice Award for her first book
The Doctor’s Pregnancy Bombshell
To Blake Shelton for retweeting me following his Nashville concert and giving me a total fangirl rush moment. Life is good.
Praise for Janice Lynn (#ulink_2eb762bf-9e0c-5f2d-aec3-11a1f3ba14f5)
‘Fun, witty and sexy... A heartfelt, sensual and compelling read.’
—Goodreads on
NYC Angels: Heiress’s Baby Scandal
‘A sweet and beautiful romance that will steal your heart.’
—Harlequin Junkie on
NYC Angels: Heiress’s Baby Scandal
Contents
Cover (#udc444687-3430-5654-8684-3f0597094ad3)
Back Cover Text (#u94763c98-b616-5985-83e1-87288fa6e583)
Introduction (#ueb040064-d287-5a61-b474-387863aa9b5b)
Dear Reader (#ulink_6b24a023-d51f-5c9d-af95-43e7197ebd23)
Title Page (#u5e50ba40-5201-5044-99fa-599e079a4007)
About the Author (#u0412de92-9b1b-5f2f-99a9-5b31aa9e561c)
Dedication (#ucd22518f-b877-5dde-be3c-1d9a6902d2c8)
Praise (#ulink_2bcc89fc-f78c-54f3-ad5e-a5032fda5764)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_a2618cb0-3e01-5871-97bd-a31489475033)
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_ab163390-e4a3-5ece-abf7-a554df8cada5)
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_3fbbed3a-a4ce-5151-82cb-addb0e9d41c6)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_79549c7f-872d-59df-83a2-c5f82a5a0f91)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_33ffabe0-c7cb-52e2-8c48-2b8b51c3f260)
“OKAY, WHO’S THE HUNK that just winked at you?”
At her best friend’s question Dr. McKenzie Sanders rolled her eyes at the emcee stepping out onto the Coopersville Community Theater stage. “That’s him.”
“That’s the infamous Dr. Lance Spencer?” Cecilia sounded incredulous from the chair next to McKenzie’s.
No wonder. Her best friend had heard quite a bit about the doctor slash local charity advocate. Was there any local charity he wasn’t involved with in some shape, form or fashion? McKenzie doubted it.
Still, when he’d invited her to come and watch the Christmas program, she’d not been expecting the well-choreographed show currently playing out before her eyes. Lance and his crew were good. Then again, knowing Lance, she should have expected greatness. He’d put the event together and everything the man touched was pure perfection.
And these days he wanted to touch her.
Sometimes McKenzie wondered if it was a case of women-chasing-him-toward-the-holy-matrimony-altar burnout that had him focusing on commitment-phobic her. She never planned to marry and Lance knew it. She made no secret of the fact she was a good-time girl and was never going to be tied down by the golden band of death to all future happiness. After his last girlfriend had gone a little psycho when he’d told her flat out he had no intention of ever proposing, Lance apparently wanted a break from tall lanky blonde numbers trying to drag him into wedded “bliss.” He’d taken to chasing petite brunettes who got hives at the mere mention of marriage thanks to unhappily divorced parents.
Her.
Despite accepting his invitation and hauling Cecilia with her to watch his show, McKenzie was running as fast as she could and had no intention of letting Lance “catch” her. She didn’t want a relationship with him, other than their professional one and the light, fun friendship they already shared. Something else she’d learned from her parents thanks to her dad, who’d chased every female coworker he’d ever had. McKenzie was nothing like either of her parents. Still, she could appreciate fineness when she saw it.
Lance was fine with a capital F.
Especially in his suit that appeared tailor-made.
Lance was no doubt one of those men who crawled out of bed covered in nonstop sexy. He was that kind of guy. The kind who made you want to skip that heavily iced cupcake and do some sit-ups instead just in case he ever saw you naked. The kind McKenzie avoided because she was a free spirit who wasn’t going to change herself for any man. Not ever. She’d eat her cupcake and have another if she wanted, with extra icing, thank you very much.
She’d watched women change for a man, seen her own mother do that, time and again. Ultimately, the changes didn’t last, the men lost interest, and the women involved ended up with broken hearts and a lot of confusion about who they were. McKenzie never gave any man a chance to get close enough to change her. She dated, had a good time and a good life. When things started getting sticky, she moved on. Next, please.
Really, she and Lance had a lot in common in that regard. Except he usually dated the same woman for several months and McKenzie’s relationships never lasted more than a few weeks at best. Anything longer than that just gave guys the wrong idea.
Like that she might be interested in white picket fences, a soccer-mom minivan, two point five kids, and a husband who would quickly get bored with her and have flirtations with his secretary...his therapist...his accountant...his law firm partner’s wife...his children’s schoolteacher...and who knew who else her father had cheated on her mother with?
Men cheated. It was a fact of life.
Sure, there were probably a few good ones out there still if she wanted to search for that needle in a haystack. McKenzie didn’t.
She wouldn’t change for a man or allow him to run around on her while she stayed home and scrubbed his bathroom floor and wiped his kids’ snotty noses. No way. She’d enjoy life, enjoy the opposite sex, and never make the mistake of being like her mother...or her father, who obviously couldn’t be faithful yet seemed to think he needed a wife on hand at all times since he’d just walked down the aisle for the fourth time since his divorce from McKenzie’s mother.
Which made her question why she’d said no to Lance when he’d asked her out.
Sure, there was the whole working-together thing that she clung to faithfully due to being scarred for life by her dad’s office romantic endeavors. Still, it wasn’t as if either she or Lance would be in it for anything more than to have some fun together. She was a fun-loving woman. He was a fun-loving man. They’d have fun together. Of that, she had no doubt. They were friends and occasionally hung out in groups of friends or shared a quick meal at the hospital. He managed to make her smile even on her toughest days. But when it had come to actually dating him she’d scurried away faster than a mouse in the midst of a spinster lady’s feline-filled house.
“Emcee got your tongue?” Cecilia asked, making McKenzie realize she hadn’t answered her friend, neither had she caught most of what Lance had said as she’d gotten lost in a whirlwind of the past and present.
“Sorry, I’m feeling a little distracted,” she shot back under her breath, her eyes on Lance and not the woman watching her intently.
“I just bet you are.” Cecilia laughed softly and, although McKenzie still didn’t turn to look at her friend, she could imagine the merriment that was no doubt sparkling in her friend’s warm brown eyes. “That man is so hot I think I feel a fever coming on. I might need some medical care very soon. What’s his specialty?”
“Internal medicine, not that you don’t already know that seeing as he works with me,” McKenzie pointed out, her gaze eating up Lance as he announced the first act, taking in the fluid movements of his body, the smile on his face, the dimples in his cheeks, the twinkle in his blue eyes. He looked like a movie star. He was a great doctor. What else could he do?
McKenzie gulped back the knot forming in her throat as her imagination took flight on the possibilities.
“Yeah, well, Christmas is all about getting a fabulous package, right? That man, right there, is a fabulous package,” Cecilia teased, nudging McKenzie’s arm.
Snorting, she rolled her eyes and hoped her friend couldn’t see the heat flooding her cheeks. “You have a one-track mind.”
“So do you and it’s not usually on men. You still competing in that marathon in the morning?”
Running. It’s what McKenzie did. She ran. Every morning. It’s how she cleared her head. How she brought in each new day. How she stayed one step ahead of any guy who tried to wiggle his way into her heart or bedroom. She ran.
Literally and figuratively.
Not that she was a virgin. She wasn’t. Her innocence had run away a long time ago, too. It was just that she was choosy about who she let touch her body.
Which brought her right back to the man onstage wooing the audience with his smile and charm.
He wanted to touch her body. Not that he’d said those exact words out loud. It was in how he looked at her.
He looked at her as if he couldn’t bear not to look at her.
As if he’d like to tear her clothes off and show her why she should hang up her running shoes for however long the chemistry held out.
She gulped again and forced more of those possibilities out of her mind.
Loud applause sounded around the dinner theater as the show moved from one song to the next. Before long, Lance introduced a trio of females who sang a song about getting nothing for Christmas. At the end of the trio’s set, groups of carolers made their way around the room, singing near the tables rather than on the stage. Lance remained just off to the side of the stage and was directly in her line of vision. His gaze met hers and he grinned. Great, he’d caught her staring at him. Then again, wasn’t that why he’d invited her to attend?
Because he wanted her to watch him.
She winced. Doggone her because seeing him outside the clinic made her watch. She didn’t want to watch him...only she did want to watch. And to feel. And to...
Cecilia elbowed her, and not with the gentle nudge as before.
“Ouch.” She rubbed her arm and frowned. No way could her friend have read her mind and even if she had, she was pretty sure Cecilia would be high-fiving her and not dishing out reprimands.
“Just wanted to make sure you were seeing what I’m seeing, because he can’t seem to keep his gaze off you.”
“I’m not blind,” she countered, still massaging the sore spot on her arm.
“After seeing the infamous Dr. Spencer I’ve heard you talk about so much and that I know you’ve said no to, I’m beginning to think perhaps you are. How long has it been since you last saw an optometrist?”
“Ha-ha, you’re so funny. There’s more to life than good looks.” Okay, so Lance was hot and she’d admit her body responded to that hotness. Always had. But even if there wasn’t her whole-won’t-date-a-coworker rule, she enjoyed her working relationship with Lance. If they dated, she didn’t fool herself for one second that they wouldn’t end up in bed. Then what? They weren’t going to be having a happily ever after. Work would become awkward. Did she really want to deal with all that just for a few weeks of sexy Lance this Christmas season?
Raking her gaze over him, she could almost convince herself it would be worth it...almost.
“Yeah,” Cecilia agreed. “There’s that voice that I could listen to all night long. Sign me up for a hefty dose of some of that.”
“Just because he has this crowd, and you, eating out of the palm of his hand, it doesn’t mean I should go out with him.”
Cecilia’s face lit with amusement. “What about you? Are you included in those he has eating out of the palm of his hand? Because I’m thinking you should. Literally.”
She didn’t. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t.
“I was just being a smart aleck,” McKenzie countered.
“Yeah, I know.” Cecilia ran her gaze over where Lance caroled, dressed up in old-fashioned garb and top hat. “But I’m serious. He could be the one.”
Letting out a long breath, McKenzie shook her head. “You know better than that.”
Cecilia had been her best friend since kindergarten. She’d been with McKenzie through all life’s ups and downs. Now McKenzie was a family doctor in a small group of physicians and Cecilia was a hairdresser at Bev’s Beauty Boutique. They’d both grown up to be what they’d always wanted to be. Except Cecilia was still waiting for her Prince Charming to come along and sweep her off her feet and across the threshold. Silly girl.
McKenzie was a big girl and could walk across that threshold all by herself. No Prince Charming needed or wanted.
Her gaze shifted from her friend and back to Lance. He was watching her. She’d swear he’d smiled at her. Maybe it was just the sparkle in his eyes that made her think that. Maybe.
Or maybe it went back to what she’d been thinking moments before about how the man looked at her. He made her want to let him look. It made her feel uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable.
Which was probably part of why she kept telling him no.
Only she was here tonight.
Why?
“I think you should go for it.”
She blinked at Cecilia. “It?”
“Dr. Spencer, aka the guy who has you so distracted.”
“I have to work with the man. Going for ‘it’ would only complicate our work relationship.”
“His asking you out hasn’t already complicated things?”
“Not really, because I haven’t let it.” She hadn’t. She’d made a point to keep their banter light, not act any differently around him.
If she’d had to make a point, did that mean the dynamics between them had already changed?
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I don’t take him seriously.”
“He’s looking at you as if he’s serious.”
There was that look. That heavenly making-her-want-to-squirm-in-her-chair look.
“Maybe.”
“Definitely.”
But then suddenly he wasn’t looking at her.
He’d rushed over to one of the dinner tables and wrapped his arms around a rather rosy-faced gentleman who was grabbing at his throat. Everyone at the man’s table was on their feet, but looking lost as to what to do.
McKenzie’s natural instincts kicked in. She grabbed her purse and phone. Calling 911 as she did so, she rushed over to where Lance gave the man a hearty thrust. Nothing happened. The guy’s eyes bulged out, more from fear than whatever was lodged in his throat. The woman next to him was going into hysterics. The carolers had stopped singing and every eye was on what Lance was doing, trying to figure out what was going on, then gasping in shock when they realized someone was choking.
Over the phone, McKenzie requested an ambulance. Not that there was time to wait for the paramedics. There wasn’t. They had to get out whatever was in the man’s throat.
Lance tried repeatedly and with great force to dislodge whatever was blocking the panicking guy’s airway. McKenzie imagined several ribs had already cracked at the intensity of his chest thrusts.
If the man’s airway wasn’t cleared, and fast, a few broken ribs weren’t going to matter. He had already started turning blue and any moment was going to lose consciousness.
“We’re going to have to open his airway.” Lance said what she’d been thinking. And pray they were able to establish a patent airway.
She glanced down at the table, found the sharpest-appearing knife, and frowned at the serrated edges. She’d have made do if that had been her only option, but in her purse, on her key chain, she had a small Swiss army knife that had been a gift many years before from her grandfather. The blade was razor sharp and much more suitable for making a neat cut into someone’s neck to create an artificial airway than this steak knife. She dumped the contents of her purse onto the table, grabbed her key chain and a ballpoint pen.
As the man lost consciousness, Lance continued to try to dislodge the stuck food. McKenzie disassembled the pen, removed the ink cartridge, and blew into the now empty plastic tube to clear anything that might be in the casing.
Lance eased the man down onto the floor.
“Does he still have a heartbeat?” she asked, kneeling next to where the man now lay.
“Regardless of whether or not he does, I’m going to see if CPR will dislodge the food before we cut.”
Sometimes once a choking victim lost consciousness, their throat muscles relaxed enough that whatever was stuck would loosen and pop out during the force exerted to the chest during CPR. It was worth a try.
Unfortunately, chest compressions didn’t work either. Time was of the essence. Typically, there was a small window of about four minutes to get oxygen inside the man’s body or there would likely be permanent brain damage. If they could revive him at all.
McKenzie tilted the man’s head back. When several seconds of CPR didn’t give the reassuring gasp of air to let them know the food had dislodged, she flashed her crude cricothyroidotomy instruments at Lance.
“Let me do it,” he suggested.
She didn’t waste time responding, just felt for the indentation between the unconscious man’s Adam’s apple and the cricoid cartilage. She made a horizontal half-inch incision that was about the same depth into the dip. Several horrified cries and all out sobbing were going on around her, but she drowned everything out except what she was doing to attempt to save the man’s life.
Once she had her incision, she pinched the flesh, trying to get the tissue to gape open. Unfortunately, the gentleman was a fleshy fellow and she wasn’t satisfied with what she saw. She stuck her finger into the cut she’d made to open the area.
Once she had the opening patent, she stuck the ballpoint-pen tube into the cut to maintain the airway and gave two quick breaths.
“Good job,” Lance praised when the man’s chest rose and fell. “He still has a heartbeat.”
That was good news and meant their odds of reviving him were greatly improved now that he was getting oxygen again. She waited five seconds, then gave another breath, then another until their patient slowly began coming to.
“It’s okay,” Lance reassured him, trying to keep the man calm, while McKenzie gave one last breath before straightening from her patient.
“Dr. Sanders opened your airway,” Lance continued. “Paramedics are on their way. You’re going to be okay.”
Having regained consciousness, the man should resume breathing on his own through the airway she’d created for him. She watched for the reassuring rise and fall of his chest. Relief washed over her at his body’s movement.
Looking panicky, he sat up. Lance held on to him to help steady him and grabbed the man’s hands when he reached for the pen barrel stuck in his throat.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Lance warned. “That’s what’s letting air into your body. Pull it out, and we’ll have to put it back in to keep that airway open.”
“Is he going to be okay?” a well-dressed, well-made-up woman in her mid-to-late fifties asked, kneeling next to McKenzie a little shakily.
“He should be.” She met the scared man’s gaze. “But whatever is stuck in your throat is still there. An ambulance is on the way. They’ll take you to the hospital where a general surgeon will figure out the best way to remove whatever is trapped there.”
The man looked dazed. He touched a steady trickle of blood that was running down his neck.
“Once the surgeon reestablishes your airway, he’ll close you up and that will only leave a tiny scar,” she assured him.
Seeming to calm somewhat the longer he was conscious, the man’s gaze dropped to her bloody finger. Yeah, she should probably wash that off now that the immediate danger had passed.
“Go wash up,” Lance ordered, having apparently read her mind. “I’ll stay with him until the ambulance arrives.”
With one last glance at her patient she nodded, stood, and went in search of a ladies’ room so she could wash the blood off her hands and her Swiss army knife.
Carrying McKenzie’s purse and the contents she’d apparently gathered up, Cecilia fell into step beside her. “Omigosh. I can’t believe that just happened. You were amazing.”
McKenzie glanced at her gushing friend. “Not exactly the festive cheer you want spread at a charity Christmas show.”
“You and Dr. Spencer were wonderful,” Cecilia sighed.
She shrugged. “We just did our job.”
“Y’all weren’t at work.” Cecilia held the bathroom door open for McKenzie.
“Doesn’t mean we’d let someone choke to death right in front of us.”
“I know that, I just meant...” Cecilia paused as they went into the bathroom. She flipped the water faucet on full blast so McKenzie wouldn’t have to touch the knobs with her bloodstained hands.
“It was no big deal. Really.” McKenzie scrubbed the blood from her finger and from where it had smeared onto her hands. Over and over with a generous amount of antibacterial soap she scrubbed her skin and then cleaned her knife. She’d rub alcohol on it later that evening, too. Maybe even run it through the autoclave machine at work for good measure.
Cecilia talked a mile a minute, going on and on about how she’d thought she was going to pass out when McKenzie had cut the man’s throat. “I could never do your job,” she added.
“Yeah, and no one would want me to do yours. They’d look like a two-year-old got hold of them with kitchen shears.”
When she finally felt clean, she and Cecilia returned to the dinner theater to see the paramedics talking to the man who’d choked. Although he couldn’t verbalize, the man nodded or shook his head in response.
As he was doing well since his oxygenation had returned to normal, they had him climb onto the stretcher and they rolled him out of the large room. Lance followed, giving one of the guys a full report of what had happened. McKenzie fell into step with them.
“Dr. Sanders saved his life,” Lance told them.
He would have established an airway just as easily as she had. It wasn’t that big a deal.
The paramedic praised her efforts.
She shook off the compliment. It’s what she’d trained for.
“You’re going to need to go to the hospital, too,” Lance reminded her.
Her gaze cut to his, then she frowned. Yeah, she’d thought of that as she’d been scrubbing the blood from the finger she’d used to open the cut she’d made. Blood exposure was a big deal. A scary big deal.
“I know. I rode here with Cecilia. I’ll have her take me, unless I can hitch a ride with you guys.” She gave the paramedic a hopeful look.
“I’ll take you,” Lance piped up, which was exactly what she hadn’t wanted to happen. The less she was alone with him the better.
She arched a brow at him. “You got blood on you, too?”
He didn’t answer, just turned his attention to the paramedic. “I’ll bring her to the hospital and we’ll draw necessary labs.”
In the heat of the moment she’d have done exactly the same thing and saved the man’s life. After the fact was when one started thinking about possible consequences of blood exposure. In an emergency situation one did what one had to do to preserve another’s life.
She didn’t regret a thing, because she’d done the right thing, but her own life could have just drastically changed forever, pending on the man’s health history.
She didn’t have any cuts or nicks that she could see on her hands, but even the tiniest little micro-tear could be a site for disease to gain entry into her body.
Whether she wanted to or not, she had to have blood tests.
“Cecilia can take me,” she assured Lance. Beyond being alone with him, the last thing she wanted was to have to have him there when she had labs drawn.
McKenzie hated having blood drawn.
Blood didn’t bother her, so long as it was someone else’s blood. Really, it wasn’t her blood that was the problem. It was her irrational fear of needles that bothered her. The thought of a needle coming anywhere near her body did funny things to her mind. Like send her into a full-blown panic attack. How could she be so calm and collected when she was the one wielding the needle and so absolutely terrified when she was going to be the recipient?
She could do without Lance witnessing her belonephobia. He didn’t need to know she was afraid of needles. Uh-uh, no way.
McKenzie gave Cecilia a pleading look, begging for her friend to somehow rescue her, but the grinning hairdresser hugged her goodbye and indicated that she was going to say something to someone she knew, then headed out rather than stay for the remainder of the show. Unfortunately, several of the other attendees seemed to be making the same decision to leave.
“I’m going to the hospital anyway, so it wouldn’t make sense for someone else to bring you.”
“But I...” She realized she was being ridiculous. One of the local doctors going into hysterics over getting a routine phlebotomy check would likely cause a stir of gossip. Lance would end up hearing about her silliness anyway. “Okay, that’s fine, but don’t you have to finish your show?”
He glanced back toward the dinner theater. “Other than thanking everyone for coming to the show, I’ve done my part. While you were washing up, I asked one of the singers to take over. The show can go on without me.” A worried look settled on his handsome face. “The show must go on. It’s for such a great cause and I don’t want what happened to give people a bad view of the event. It’s one of our biggest fund-raisers.”
McKenzie frowned, hating that the incident had happened for many reasons. “It’s not the fault of Celebrate Graduation that the man choked. Surely people understand that.”
“You’d think so,” he agreed, as they exited the building and headed toward the parking lot. “That man was Coopersville’s mayor, you know.”
“The mayor?” No, she hadn’t known. Not that it would have mattered. She’d done what had needed to be done and would have done exactly the same regardless of who the person had been. A life had been on the line.
“Yep, Leo Jones.”
“Is he one of your patients?” she asked, despite knowing he shouldn’t answer. He knew exactly why she was asking. Did she need to worry about the man’s health history? Did Lance know anything that would set her mind at ease?
“You know I wouldn’t tell you even if he was.”
Yes, she knew.
“But I can honestly say I know nothing about any mayor’s health history.” He opened the passenger door to his low-slung sports car that any other time McKenzie would have whistled in appreciation of. Right now her brain was distracted by too many possibilities of the consequences of her actions and that soon a needle would be puncturing her skin.
Was it her imagination or had she just broken a sweat despite the mid-December temperatures?
“Thank you,” she whispered back, knowing her question had put him in an awkward position and that he’d answered as best he could. “I guess I won’t know anything for a few days.”
“Probably not.” He stood at the car door for a few seconds. A guilty look on his face, he raked his fingers through his hair. “I should have cut the airway, rather than let you do it.”
She frowned at him. “Why?”
“Because then you wouldn’t be worrying about any of this.”
She shrugged. “It was my choice to make.”
“I shouldn’t have let you.”
“You think you could have stopped me from saving his life?”
His grip tightening on the car door, he shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant and I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m not some froufrou girl who needs pampering. I knew the risks and I took them.” She stared straight into his eyes, making sure he didn’t misunderstand. “If there are consequences, I’ll face them. I did the right thing.”
“Agreed, except I should have been the one who took the risks.”
“Because you’re a guy?”
He seemed to consider her question a moment, then shook his head. “No, because you’re you and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
His answer rang with so much sincerity that, heart pounding, she found herself staring up at him. “You’d rather it happen to you?”
“Absolutely.”
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_32fedba1-0f2e-56e1-8e6f-64f9aafa81e4)
LANCE DROVE TO the hospital in silence. Just as well. McKenzie didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk.
Was she thinking about what he’d said? Or the events of the evening? Of the risks she’d taken?
When he’d realized Leo Jones had been choking, he’d rushed to the man and performed the Heimlich maneuver. Too bad he hadn’t been successful. Then McKenzie wouldn’t have any worries about blood exposure.
Why hadn’t he insisted on performing the procedure to open Leo’s airway? He should have. He’d offered, but precious time had been wasting that could have meant the difference between life and death, between permanent brain damage and no complications.
He’d let her do what she’d competently done with quick and efficient movements. She’d saved the man’s life. But Lance would much rather it was him being the one worrying about what he’d been exposed to.
Why? Was she right? Was it because she was female and he was male and that automatically made him feel protective?
Most likely he’d feel he should have been the one to take the risks regardless of whether McKenzie had been male or female. But the fact she was female did raise the guilt factor, with the past coming back to haunt him that he’d failed to protect another woman once upon a time when he should have.
Plus, he’d been the one to invite McKenzie to the show. If he hadn’t done so she wouldn’t have been at the community center, wouldn’t have been there to perform the cricothyroidotomy, wouldn’t have possibly been exposed to something life threatening.
Because of him, she’d taken risks she shouldn’t have had to take. Guilt gutted him.
If he could go back in time, he’d undo that particular invitation. If he could go back in time, he’d undo a lot of things.
Truthfully, he hadn’t expected McKenzie to accept his invitation to watch his show. She’d shot down all his previous ones with polite but absolute refusals.
He glanced at where she stared out the window from the passenger seat. Why had she semiaccepted tonight?
Perhaps the thought of seeing him onstage had been irresistible. He doubted it. She’d only agreed to go and watch and so had technically not been there as his date.
Regardless, he’d been ecstatic she’d said she’d be there. Why it mattered so much, he wasn’t sure. Just that knowing McKenzie had been attending the show had really upped the ante.
Not knowing if she’d let him or not, he reached out, took her hand, and gave a squeeze meant to reassure.
She didn’t pull away, just glanced toward him in question.
“It’s going to be okay.” He hoped he told the truth.
“I know. It’s not that.”
“Then what?”
She shook her head.
“Seriously, you can tell me. I’ll understand. I’ve had blood exposure before. I know it’s scary stuff until you’re given the all-clear.”
She didn’t look at him, just stared back out the window. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
She glanced toward him again. “With you?”
He made a pretense of looking around the car. “It would seem I’m your only option at the moment.”
“I’d rather not talk at all.
“Ouch.”
“Sorry.” She gave a nervous sigh. “I’m not trying to be rude. I just...”
“You just...?” he prompted at her pause.
“Don’t like needles.” Her words were so low, so torn from her that he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly.
Her answer struck him as a little odd considering she was a highly skilled physician who’d just expertly performed a procedure to open a choking man’s airway.
When he didn’t immediately respond, she jerked her hand free from his, almost as if she’d been unaware until that moment that he even held her hand.
“Don’t judge me.”
How upset she was seemed out of character with everything he knew about her. She was always calm, cool, collected. Even in the face of an emergency she didn’t lose her cool. Yet she wasn’t calm, cool or collected at the moment. “Who’s judging? I didn’t say a word.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Maybe I’m not the one judging?”
She didn’t answer.
“If you took my moment of silence in the wrong way, I’m sorry. I was just processing that you didn’t like needles and that it seemed a little odd considering your profession.”
“I know.”
“Yet you’re ultrasensitive about it.”
“It’s not something I’m proud of.”
Ah, he was starting to catch on. McKenzie didn’t like to have a weakness, to be vulnerable in regard to anything. That he understood all too well and had erected some major protective barriers years ago to keep himself sane. Then again, he deserved every moment of guilt he experienced and then some.
“Lots of people have a fear of needles,” he assured her. They saw it almost daily at the clinic.
“I passed out the last time I had blood drawn.” Her voice was condemning of herself.
“Happens to lots of folks.”
“I had to take an antianxiety medication to calm a panic attack before I could even make myself sit in the phlebotomist’s chair and then I still passed out.”
“Not unheard of.”
“But not good for a doctor to be that way when she goes around ordering labs for her patients. What kind of example do I set?”
“People have different phobias, McKenzie. You can’t help what you’re afraid of. It’s not like we get to pick and choose.”
She seemed to consider what he’d said.
“What are your phobias, Lance?”
Her question caught him off guard. He wasn’t sure he had any true phobias. Sure, there were things that scared him, but none that put him into shutdown mode.
Other than memories of Shelby and his immense sense of failure where she was concerned.
Could grief and regret be classified as a phobia? Could guilt?
“Death,” he answered, although it wasn’t exactly the full truth.
She turned to face him. “Death?”
His issues came more from having been left behind when someone he’d loved had died.
When his high school sweetheart had died.
When it should have been him and not her who’d lost their life that horrific night.
When he didn’t answer, she turned in her seat. “You are, aren’t you? You’re afraid of dying.”
Better she think that than to know the horrible truth. He shrugged. “Aren’t most people, to some degree? Regardless, it isn’t anything that keeps me awake at night.”
Not every night as it had those first few months, at any rate. He’d had to come to terms with the fact that he couldn’t change what had happened, no matter how much he wanted to, no matter how many times people told him it wasn’t his fault. Now he lived his life to help others, as Shelby would have had she lived, and prevent others from making the same mistakes two teenagers had on graduation night.
“The thought of needles doesn’t keep me awake at night,” McKenzie said, drawing him back to the present. “Just freaks me out at the thought of a needle plunging beneath my skin.”
Again, her response seemed so incongruent with her day-to-day life. She was a great physician, performed lots of in-office procedures that required breaking through the skin.
“Is there something in your past that prompted your fear?” he asked, to keep his thoughts away from his own issues. Shelby haunted him enough already.
From the corner of his eye as he pulled into the hospital physician parking area he saw her shake her head.
“Not that I recall. I’ve just always been afraid of needles.”
Her voice quivered a little and he wondered if she told the full truth.
“Medical school didn’t get you over that fear?”
“Needles only bother me when they are pointed in my direction.”
“You can dish them out but not take them, eh?”
“I get my influenza vaccination annually and I’m up to date on all my other immunizations, thank you very much.”
He laughed at her defensive tone. “I was only teasing you, McKenzie.”
“If you knew how stressful getting my annual influenza vaccination is for me, you wouldn’t tease me.” She sighed. “This is the one thing I don’t take a joke about so well.”
“Only this?” he asked as he parked the car and turned off the ignition.
Picking up her strappy purse, she shrugged. “I’m not telling you any more of my secrets, Lance.”
“Afraid to let me know your weaknesses?” he taunted.
“What weaknesses?” she countered, causing him to chuckle.
That was one of the things that attracted him to McKenzie. She made him laugh and smile.
They got out of the car and headed into the hospital.
The closer they got to the emergency department, the more her steps slowed. So much so that currently she appeared to be walking through molasses.
“You okay?”
“Fine.” Her answer was more gulped than spoken.
Stupid question on his part. He could tell she wasn’t. Her face was pale and she looked like she might be ill. She’d made light of her phobia, but it was all too real.
Protectiveness washed over him and he wanted to scoop her up and carry her the rest of the way.
“I’ll stay with you while you have your labs drawn.”
Not meeting his eyes, she shook her head. “I don’t want you to see me like that.”
“You think I’m going to think less of you because you’re afraid of needles?”
“I fully expect you to tease me mercilessly now that you know this.”
Her voice almost broke and he fought his growing urge to wrap her up into his arms. If only he could.
“You’re wrong, McKenzie. I don’t want to make light of anything that truly bothers you. I want to make it all better, to make this as easy for you as possible. Let me.”
“Fine.” She gave in but didn’t sound happy about it. “Write an order for blood exposure labs. Get the emergency room physician to get consent, then draw blood on our dear mayor. Let’s hope he’s free from all blood-borne pathogens.”
He definitely hoped that. If McKenzie came to any harm due to having done the cricothyroidotomy he’d never forgive himself for not insisting on doing the procedure, for putting her in harm’s way. He’d not protected one woman too many already in his lifetime.
* * *
McKenzie counted to ten. Then she counted backward. Next she counted in her very limited Spanish retained from two years of required high school classes. She closed her eyes and thought of happy thoughts. She told her shoulders to relax, her heart not to burst free from her chest, her breath not to come in rapid pants, her blood not to jump around all quivery-like in her vessels.
None of her distraction techniques worked.
Her shoulders and neck had tight knots. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it truly might break free from her rib cage. Her breathing was labored. Her blood jumped and quivered.
Any moment she half expected her feet to take on minds of their own and to run from the lab where she waited for the phlebotomist to draw her blood.
Lance sat with her, telling her about Mr. Jones and that the surgeon was currently with him. “Looks like they’re taking him into surgery tonight to remove the stuck food and close the airway opening you made.”
Only half processing what he said, she nodded. She tried to focus on his words, but her skin felt as if it was on fire and her ears had to strain beyond the burn.
“The surgeon praised the opening you made. He said it would be a cinch to close and would only leave a tiny scar.”
Again, she nodded.
“He also said you’d nicked two main arteries and the guy was going to have to be seen by a vascular surgeon. Shame on you.”
As what he said registered, her gaze cut to Lance’s. “What? I didn’t nick a main artery, much less two. What are you talking about?”
The corner of his mouth tugged upward. “Sorry. I could tell your mind was elsewhere. I was just trying to get your attention back onto me.”
“I didn’t hit two arteries,” she denied again.
“No, you didn’t. The surgeon really did praise you, but didn’t say a thing about any nicked arteries.”
“You’re bad,” she accused.
Not bothering to deny her claim, he just grinned. “Sometimes.”
“All the time.”
“Surely you don’t believe that? I come with good references.”
“You get references from the women you’ve dated?”
“I didn’t say the references were from women or from previous dates. Just that I had references.”
“From?”
“My mother.”
She rolled her eyes and tried not to pay attention to the man who entered the room holding her lab order. He checked over her information, verifying all the pertinent details.
Her heartbeat began to roar in her ears at a deafening level.
“You should meet her sometime,” Lance continued as if she weren’t on the verge of a major come-apart.
“Nice penguin suit, Dr. Spencer,” the phlebotomist teased, his gaze running over Lance’s spiffy suit.
“Thanks, George, I’m starting a new trend.”
“Pretty sharp-looking, but good luck with that,” the phlebotomist said, then introduced himself to McKenzie. “In case you didn’t catch it, I’m George.”
He then verified her name and information, despite the fact McKenzie had seen him around the hospital in the past. She imagined he had a checklist he had to perform.
So did she. Sit in this chair. Remain calm. Do not pass out. Do not decide to forget the first three items on her checklist and run away as fast as she could.
She clenched and unclenched her sweaty hands.
“She’d like you,” Lance continued as if the phlebotomist hadn’t interrupted their conversation about his mother and wasn’t gathering his supplies.
Oh, she didn’t want anyone else to know of her phobia. Why couldn’t she just tell herself everything was going to be fine and then believe it? Everything was going to be fine. People did not die from having blood drawn. She knew that logically. But logic had nothing to do with what was happening inside her body.
“McKenzie?”
Her gaze lifted to Lance’s.
“You should go to dinner with me sometime.”
“No.” She might be distracted, but she wasn’t that distracted.
“You have other plans?”
“I do.”
“I haven’t said which day I wanted to take you to dinner. Maybe I wanted to take you out over the holidays.”
“Doesn’t matter. I don’t want to go to dinner with you. Not now or over the holidays.”
“Ouch.”
“That’s my line,” she told him, watching George with growing dread.
The phlebotomist swiped an alcohol pad across her left antecubital space. “Relax your arm.”
Yeah, right.
Lance moved closer. “McKenzie, you have to relax your arm or he can’t stick you.”
Exactly. That’s why her arm wasn’t relaxed.
Lance took her right hand and gave it a squeeze. “Look at me, McKenzie.”
She did. She locked her gaze with his and forced her brain to stay focused on him rather than George. That really shouldn’t have been a problem except George held the needle he was lowering toward her arm.
She wanted to pull away but she just gripped Lance’s hand all the tighter.
She wanted to run, but she kept her butt pasted into her chair. Somehow.
“Keep your eyes on me, McKenzie.”
Her eyes were on him, locked into a stare with him. It wasn’t helping. All she could think about was George and his blasted needle.
She was going to pass out.
Lance lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her clenched fingers.
McKenzie frowned. “What was that for?”
“You’ve had a rough evening.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Sure, I should have. You deserve accolades for everything you’ve done.”
“That’s ridiculous. I just did my job.”
“You’re going to feel a stick,” George warned, and she did.
Sweat drenched her skin.
Lance took the man’s words as permission to do whatever he pleased. Apparently, kissing her hand again pleased him because he pressed another kiss to her flesh. This time his mouth lingered.
“Stop that.” She would have pulled away but she was too terrified to move. Plus, her mind was going dark. “I think I’m going to pass out,” she warned as the needle connected with its target.
She gritted her teeth, but didn’t move. Couldn’t move.
“Stay with me, McKenzie.”
“No.”
He laughed. “You planning to sleep through this?”
“Something like that.” Her gaze dropped to where George swapped one vial for another as he drew blood from her arm.
She shouldn’t have looked. She shouldn’t have.
“Hey.”
Lance’s rough tone had her gaze darting back to him.
“Stay with me or I might have to do mouth-to-mouth.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, I’d dare.” He waggled his brows. “Do you think I have a shot at dating you?”
“Not a chance.” She glowered at him. Really? He was going to ask her that now?
“Then I should go ahead with that mouth-to-mouth while you’re in a compromised situation.”
“I’m not that compromised,” she warned, curling her free-from-George fingers into a fist.
“Don’t mind me, folks. I’m just doing my job here,” George assured them with a chuckle.
“I’m doing my best not to mind you.” Actually, she was doing her best not to think about him and that needle.
“You’re doing fine,” he praised.
Amazingly, she was doing better than she’d have dreamed possible. She glanced toward Lance.
He was why she was doing better than expected. Because he was distracting her. With threats of mouth-to-mouth.
Her heart was pounding from fear, not thoughts of Lance’s mouth on hers, not of him taking advantage of her compromised situation.
George removed the needle from her arm. McKenzie glanced down, saw the sharp tip, and another wave of clamminess hit her.
She lifted her gaze to Lance’s to tell him she was about to go out.
“McKenzie, don’t do it.” He snapped his fingers in front of her face, as if that would somehow help. “Stay with me.”
But out she went.
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_f939a2d4-0f08-51e8-a048-6efcbe9c825c)
“GIVE IT A REST, McKenzie. I’m seeing you inside your place.” Lance maneuvered his car into the street McKenzie had indicated he should turn at. He’d wanted to punch her address into his GPS, but she’d refused to do more than say she’d tell him where he could go.
Yeah, he had no doubt she’d do exactly that and exactly in what direction she’d point him. He suspected it would be hellish hot there, too.
She crossed her arms. “Just because I passed out, it doesn’t give you permission to run roughshod over me.”
“Is that what I’m doing?” He glanced toward her. Finally, her color had returned and her cheeks blushed with a rosiness that belied that she’d been as white as a ghost less than an hour before.
Her lips twisted. “Maybe.”
“You have had a lot happen tonight, including losing consciousness. Of course I’m concerned and going to make sure you get inside your place, okay?”
“I think you’re overreacting.”
“I think you’re wasting your breath trying to convince me to drop you at the curb and drive away.”
“That’s not what I said for you to do.”
“No, but the thought of inviting me into your place scares you.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“You’re imagining things. I came to your Christmas show.”
“You brought a friend.” As long as they were bantering she’d stay distracted, wouldn’t think about having passed out.
“You were part of the show. It wasn’t as if you were going to sit beside me and carry on conversation.”
He shot a quick glance toward where she sat in the passenger seat with her arms crossed defensively over her chest.
“Is that what you wanted?” he asked. “For me to be at the dinner table beside you?”
“If I’d been on a date with you, that’s exactly what I would have expected. Since I was just there watching your show as a friend and someone who wanted to help support a great cause, it’s not a big deal.”
“I could take you to a Christmas show in Atlanta, McKenzie. We could go to dinner, or to a dinner show.”
“Why would you do that?”
“So I could sit beside you and carry on conversation.”
“I don’t want you to sit beside me and carry on conversation.” She sounded like a petulant child and they both knew it. She was also as cute as all get-out and he couldn’t help but smile.
“Isn’t that what we’re doing right now?”
“Right now you are bringing me home, where you can walk me to my front door, and then you can leave.”
“What if I want to come inside?” He couldn’t help but push, just to see what she’d say. He had no intention of going inside McKenzie’s place, unless it was to be sure she really did make it safely inside.
Her eyes widened. “We’ve not even been on a date. What makes you think I’d let you stay?”
“You’re jumping to conclusions, McKenzie. Just because I said I wanted to come inside, it didn’t mean I planned to stay.”
“Right,” she huffed. She turned to stare out the window.
“Then again, I guess it’s a given that I want to stay. I think you and I would have a good time.”
She sighed. “Maybe.”
“You don’t sound enthused about the prospect.”
“There is no prospect. You and I are coworkers, nothing more.”
“You came to my show tonight.”
“Coworkers can support one another outside work without it meaning anything.”
“I see how you look at me, McKenzie.”
* * *
McKenzie blinked at the man driving her home. More like driving her crazy.
How she looked at him?
“What are you talking about? You’re the one who looks at me as if you’ve not seen a woman in years.”
“I’m sure I do, but we’re not talking about how I look at you. We’re talking about how you look at me.”
“I don’t look at you.”
“Yes, you do.”
“How do I look at you, Lance?”
“As if you’ve not seen a man in years.”
“That’s ridiculous.” She motioned for him to make a right turn.
“But nonetheless true. And now that I’ve had to do mouth-to-mouth to revive you, you know you’re dying for another go at these lips.” Eyes twinkling, he puckered up and kissed the air.
“You have such an inflated ego,” she accused, glad to see him pull into her street. A few more minutes and she’d be able to escape him and this conversation she really didn’t want to be having. “Besides, you did not do mouth-to-mouth. I passed out. I didn’t go into respiratory arrest.”
“Where you are concerned, I didn’t want to take any chances, thus the mouth-to-mouth.” His tone was teasing. “You were unconscious, so you probably don’t recall it. George offered to help out, but I assured him I had things under control.”
“Right.” She rolled her eyes. She knew 100 percent he’d not taken advantage of her blacking out to perform mouth-to-mouth, even though when she’d come to he’d been leaning over her. She also knew the phlebotomist had offered to do no such thing. “Guess that’s something we really do have in common, because I don’t want to take any chances either. Not with the likes of you, so you’ll understand that there will be no invitations into my house. Not now and not ever.”
“Not ever?”
“Probably not.”
* * *
McKenzie really didn’t want Lance walking her to her doorway. Since she’d passed out at the hospital, she supposed she shouldn’t argue as it made logical sense that he’d want to see her safely into her home. That was just a common courtesy really and didn’t mean a thing if she let him. Yet the last thing she wanted was to have him on her door stoop or, even worse, inside her house.
“You have a nice place,” he praised as he drove his car up into her driveway.
“It’s dark. You can’t really see much,” she countered.
“Not so dark that I can’t tell you have a well-kept yard and a nice home.” As he parked the car and turned off the ignition, he chuckled. “I’ve never met a more prickly, stubborn woman than you, McKenzie.”
She wanted to tell him to not be ridiculous, but the fact of the matter was that he was way too observant.
“I didn’t ask you to be here,” she reminded him defensively. She was sure she wasn’t anything like the yes-women he usually spent time with. “I appreciate your concern, but I didn’t ask you to drive me to the hospital or to stay with me while I had my blood drawn or to threaten me with mouth-to-mouth.”
He let out an exaggerated sigh. “I’m aware you’d rather have faced George again than for me to have driven you home.”
That one had her backtracking a little. “That might be taking things too far.”
“Riding home with me is preferable to needles? Good to know.”
He was teasing her again, but the thought she was alone with him, sitting in his car parked in her driveway, truly did make her nervous.
He made her nervous.
Memories of his lips on her hand made her nervous.
Because she’d liked the warm pressure of his mouth.
Had registered the tingly pleasure despite the way her blood had pounded from terror over what George had been up to.
At the time, she’d known Lance had kissed her as a distraction from George more than from real desire. She might have been prickly, might still be prickly, but tonight’s blood draw had been one of the best she could recall, other than the whole passing-out thing. “Thank you for what you did at the emergency room.”
“My pleasure.”
“I didn’t mean that.”
“That?”
“You know.”
“Do I?” He looked innocent, but they both knew he was far, far from it.
“Quit teasing me.”
“But you’re so much fun to tease, McKenzie.” Neither of them made a move to get out of the car. “For the record, I was telling the truth.”
That kissing her hand had been his pleasure?
Her face heated.
His kissing her hand had been her pleasure. She hadn’t been so lost in Terrorville that she’d missed the fact that Lance had kissed her hand and it had felt good.
“I’m sorry tonight didn’t go as planned for your Christmas show.”
“A friend texted to let me know that they finished the show and although several left following the mayor’s incident, tonight’s our biggest fund-raiser yet.”
“That’s great.”
“It is. Keeping kids off the roads on graduation night is important.”
“Celebrate Graduation is a really good cause.” The program was something Lance had helped get started locally after he’d moved to Coopersville four years ago. McKenzie had been away doing her residency, but she’d heard many sing his praises. “Did your school have a similar program? Is that why you’re so involved?”
He shook his head. “No. My school didn’t. I wish they had.”
Something in his voice was off and had McKenzie turning to fully face him. Rather than give her time to ask anything further, he opened his car door and got out.
Which meant it was time for her to get out too.
Which meant she’d be going into her house.
Alone.
It wasn’t a good idea to invite Lance inside her place.
She dug her keys out of her purse and unlocked her front door, then turned to him to issue words that caused an internal tug-of-war of common courtesy and survival instincts.
“Do you want to come inside?”
His gaze searched hers then, to her surprise, he shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m going to head back to the community theater to help clean up.”
“Oh.”
“If I didn’t know better I’d think you were disappointed by my answer.”
Was she?
That wasn’t disappointment moving through her chest. Probably just indigestion from the stress of having to get blood drawn. Or something like that.
She lifted her chin and looked him square in the eyes. “I’m sorry I kept you from things you needed to be doing.”
“I’m sure the crew has things under control, but I usually help straighten things up. Afterward, we celebrate another successful show, which I’m calling tonight despite everything that happened, because you were there and I got to spend time with you.”
She glanced at her watch. “You’re going out?”
“To an after-show party at Lanette and Roger Anderson’s place. Lanette is one of the female singers and who I asked to take over emceeing for me.” He mentioned a couple of the songs she’d done that night and a pretty brunette with an amazing set of pipes came to mind.
“She will have their place all decked out with Christmas decorations and will have made lots of food,” he continued. “You want to come with me?”
She immediately shook her head. “No, thanks. I ate at the dinner show.”
He laughed. “I thought you’d say no.”
“You should have said you had somewhere you needed to be.”
“And keep you from sweating over whether or not you were going to invite me in? Why would I do that?”
“Because you’re a decent human being?”
“I am a decent human being. I have references, remember?”
“Mothers don’t count.”
“Mothers count the most,” he corrected.
When had he moved so close? Why wasn’t she backing away from him? Any moment now she expected him to close the distance between their mouths. He was that close. So close that if she stretched up on her tippy-toes her lips would collide with his.
She didn’t stretch.
Neither did he close the distance between their mouths. Instead, he cupped her jaw and traced over her chin with his thumb. “You could easily convince me to change my plans.”
His breath was warm against her face.
“Why would I want to do that?” But her gaze was on his mouth, so maybe her question was a rhetorical one.
He laughed and again she felt the pull of his body.
“You should give me a chance to make this up to you by taking you to the hospital Christmas party next weekend.”
“I can take myself.”
“You can, but you shouldn’t have to.”
“To think I need a man to do things for me would be a mistake. I started wearing my big-girl panties a long time ago.”
His eyes twinkled. “Prove it.”
“You wish.”
“Without a doubt.”
Yet he hadn’t attempted to kiss her, hadn’t taken up her offer to come inside her place where he could have attempted to persuade her into something physical. Instead, he’d said she could convince him to change his plans. He’d given her control, left the power in her hands about what happened next.
“I’ll see you bright and early Monday morning, McKenzie.”
“Have fun at your party.”
“You could go with me and have fun, too.”
She shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to cramp your style.”
His brows made a V. “My style?”
“What if you met someone you wanted to take home with you?”
“I already have met someone I want to take home with me. She keeps telling me no.”
“I’m not talking about me.”
“I am talking about you.”
Exasperation filled her. She wasn’t sure if it was from his insistence that he wanted her or the fact that he hadn’t kissed her. Maybe both. “Would you please be serious?”
His thumb slid across her cheek in a slow caress. “Make no mistake, McKenzie. I am serious when I say that I’d like to explore the chemistry between us.”
Shivers that had nothing to do with the December weather goose-pimpled her body.
“Why should I take you seriously?” she challenged. “We’ve been standing on my porch for five minutes and you haven’t threatened mouth-to-mouth again. Much less actually made a move. I don’t know what to think where you’re concerned.”
That’s when he did what she’d thought he would do all along. It had taken her throwing down a gauntlet of challenge to prompt him into action. Lance bent just enough to close the gap between their mouths.
The pressure of his lips was gentle, warm, electric and made time stand still.
Her breath caught and yet he made her pant with want for more. She went to deepen the kiss, to search his lips for answers as to why he made her nervous, why he made her feel so alive, why he made her want to run and stay put at the same time. She closed her eyes and relaxed against the hard length of his body. He felt good. Her hands went to his shoulders, his broad shoulders that her fingers wanted to dig into.
“Good night, McKenzie,” he whispered against her lips, making her eyes pop open.
“Unless you text or call saying you want to see me before then, I’ll see you bright and early Monday morning. Good luck with your run tomorrow.” With that he stepped back, stared into her eyes for a few brief seconds then headed toward his car.
“I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you,” she called from where she stood on the porch.
He just laughed. “Thank you for my mouth-to-mouth, McKenzie. I’ve never felt more alive. Sweet dreams.”
“You’re not welcome,” she muttered under her breath while he got into his car, then had the audacity to wave goodbye before pulling out of her driveway. Blasted man.
McKenzie’s dreams weren’t sweet.
They were filled with hot, sweaty, passionate kisses.
So much so that when she woke, glanced at her phone and saw that it was only a little after midnight, she wanted to scream in protest. She’d been asleep for less than an hour. Ugh.
She should text him to tell him to get out of her dreams and to stay out. She didn’t want him there.
Wouldn’t he get a kick out of that?
Instead, she closed her eyes and prayed.
Please go back to sleep.
Please don’t dream of Lance.
Please no more visions of Lance kissing me and me begging for so much more instead of watching him drive away.
Please don’t let me beg a man for anything. I don’t want to be like my mother.
I won’t be like my mother.
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_bdd5b1f4-6af5-53c0-90cd-91a5da65043b)
EDITH WINTERS CAME into the clinic at least once a month, always with a new chief complaint. Although she had all the usual aging complaints that were all too real, most of the time McKenzie thought the eighty-year-old was lonely and came in to be around other humans who cared about her.
The woman lived alone, had no local family, and her only relative as far as McKenzie knew was a son who lived in Florida and rarely came home to visit.
“How long have these symptoms been bothering you, Mrs. Winters?”
“Since last week.”
Last week. Because when you had severe abdominal pain and no bowel movements for four days it was normal to wait a week to seek care. Not.
“I didn’t want to bother anyone.”
“Any time a symptom is severe and persistent, you need to be checked further.”
“I would have come sooner if I’d gotten worse.”
Seriously, she’d seen Edith less than a month ago and it had only been two weeks prior to that she’d been in the clinic for medication refills. Severe abdominal pain and no bowel movement was a lot more than what usually prompted her to come to the clinic. “What made you decide you needed to be seen?”
The woman had called and, although McKenzie’s schedule had been full, she’d agreed for the woman to be checked. She’d grown quite fond of the little lady and figured she’d be prescribing a hug and reassurance that everything was fine.
“There was blood when I spit up this morning.”
McKenzie’s gaze lifted from her laptop. “What do you mean, when you spat up?”
Her nurse had said nothing about spitting up blood.
“It wasn’t really a throw-up, but I heaved and there was bright red blood mixed in with the stuff that came up.”

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