Tangling With Ty Read online

  “We already said that.”

  “We’re going to say it several more times yet tonight. You can thank your concussion for that.”

  He swore colorfully, making her smile again. A man who could put together those descriptive words was going to be okay.

  The next time she checked on him, he was in such obvious discomfort and pain she ended up sleeping in a chair at his side to watch over him more closely. In the deep of the night, he shifted, then groaned, and she was there, reaching out to touch, to soothe. Though he didn’t say a word, she knew he was awake, and terribly uncomfortable. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “Me, too. I’m sorry I fell through your ceiling. I’m really sorry I did that.”

  “Need another pain pill?”

  “Yeah. I’ve decided I like those.”

  “And the doctor? How about her?” She had no idea why she asked, and held her breath, wishing she could take it back.

  But a weak smile touched his mouth. “Maybe I decided I like the doctor more than a little.”

  “That’s only because I’m holding the goods.”

  His eyes opened at that. “You have the goods all right.”

  She blushed. Blushed.

  “And I’m not talking about your tight little hot bod either, Dr. Nicole Mann.”

  She had no answer for that, but as he drifted off, none seemed to be required.

  BY MORNING Nicole was the hoarse, groggy one. Since when had one single patient taken so much out of her?

  Since she cared. Too much.

  But she had an even more pressing problem at the moment. She wasn’t convinced Ty could handle the day by himself. He hadn’t yet managed to get out of the bed without her support, and though he did keep up a healthy stream of come-ons, she knew damn well he was all talk and no go.

  So she did it. For the first time in her entire professional life, she picked up the phone and took the day off.

  And wondered if she’d gone completely off the deep end.

  8

  AFTER SHE’D CALLED in to the hospital, Nicole stood in the middle of her living room, idle. Idle.

  What was she going to do with herself with only one patient to take care of?

  The entire day loomed large in front of her, when she’d never allowed herself a leisurely moment in her life. With a shrug, she pulled up a stack of medical journals and other related work reports she could read.

  But for the first time since she could remember, they didn’t appeal. So she sat in front of the TV she’d turned on only a few times since she’d purchased it several years ago.

  And in no time flat, discovered the utter, addictive joy of daytime television. With the remote in hand, she clicked back and forth between Bewitched, I Love Lucy and Court TV.

  Then the phone rang, annoying her. So did her caller.

  “Hello.” The lazily cultured voice was Dr. Lincoln Watts. “Slacking off today?”

  Nicole’s finger tightened on the phone. “I’m entitled to call in.”

  “Did you stay up too late?” His voice lowered. “Or did your lover keep you in bed this morning?”

  “I won’t be in today, Dr. Watts. That’s all that concerns you. Period,” she said with shocking calm, and because the commercial was over and I Love Lucy was starting again, she hung up the phone. She stared at her hand on the remote and realized she was shaking with fury.

  Not even two seconds later came the knock on her door. Damn it. She got up, and gaze still locked on the TV, opened the door.

  “Morning.” Suzanne held a covered tray that smelled so delicious Nicole promptly forgot about the TV.

  “Not for you.” Suzanne slapped Nicole’s hand when she went to lift the cover. “For Ty. Tell him I hope he’s feeling better.”

  “You brought Ty food and not me?”

  “Yes, and don’t cheat him by eating any of it. He needs his strength to heal.” She whistled slowly at the hole in the ceiling of the living room. “That poor, poor baby.”

  “He’s not a baby.” Nope, as Nicole had now seen just about every inch of his long, hard, perfectly formed body, she could say that for certain. “And food doesn’t heal.” She lifted her chin. “My skills as a doctor are going to do that.”

  Suzanne shot her a look of pity. “Oh, honey, have you got a lot to learn about men. There’s only one way to reach them, and it’s not, contrary to popular belief, through their penises. It’s through their stomachs. Now give him this tray with a nice morning smile and you’ll see what I mean. You can smile this early, can’t you?”

  Nicole glared at her.

  Suzanne laughed. “Well, honestly, I don’t see you smile that often. Actually, I don’t see you do anything but work.”

  “Not today. I called in.”

  “You…called in?” Suzanne slapped a hand to her mouth in disbelief. “You?”

  Nicole rolled her eyes. “It’s not that big a deal.”

  “To you it is. You, the workaholic, took a day off to care for Ty. That’s huge.”

  “He did fall through my ceiling.”

  “You took a day off.” Suzanne marveled at that for a moment. “Wait until Taylor hears you’re falling for him. She’s going to be the last one of us holding on to that vow of singlehood.”

  “Oh no.” Nicole laughed. Fall for Ty? Ha! “I don’t know what you think is going on here, but you can just wash it right out of your hair. I’m staying single forever, just like Taylor.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I am.” She meant it. Ty would finish his job here and sooner or later he’d be gone. Long gone. He wouldn’t so much as look back, as looking back wasn’t in his genes.

  She wouldn’t look back either, she’d—

  She’d miss him. Damn it. She’d really miss him.

  But she’d carved out a good life for herself. She had her career, a family that was only slightly dysfunctional, and friends, even if they were nosy as hell. She had all she needed.

  “I used to be in denial, too,” Suzanne said with a knowing smile.

  “It’s not denial.”

  “Right. Hey, I’ll come back later for the tray and any details you want to share.”

  “There won’t be details.”

  But Suzanne had already walked away. “Damn it,” Nicole muttered when Suzanne’s laughter floated back up the stairs. Shrugging it off, she went back to her shows.

  And wondered if Ty was dreaming of her.

  TY CAME AWAKE in slow degrees. When he was fully conscious, he carefully opened his eyes.

  The sun rudely pierced into the room, stabbing him with the brightness until he closed his eyes again. He took mental stock and decided his entire body felt as if he’d been thrown under a steamroller.

  Except for his head. His head felt as if he’d put it into a giant vise and cinched it down.

  With no little amount of struggle, he managed to get to a sitting position. From there he eyed the bathroom door, only a few feet away.

  It might as well have been a hundred miles. Determined, he staggered up, and for his efforts, nearly passed out. Gripping the back of a chair, he took a handful of deep, careful breaths. Daggers shot upward from his ankle. His ribs screamed. He had no doubt his head was going to fall right off. But he made it to the bathroom, shut the door and leaned back against it.

  “Ty!” From the other side of the door came Nicole’s worried voice. “What are you doing!”

  “Considering getting sick.”

  “Are you okay? Are you hurting? Do you need any help?”

  “No, yes and no.”

  “Ty—”

  When he was done, he opened the door, about two seconds away from passing out.

  Nicole was right there, wrapping herself around him, taking his weight. “Of all the fool things to do, getting up by yourself, trying to walk, moving around as if you didn’t drop yourself on your head just yesterday…”

  “Not back to bed,” he said when she turned him that way. “Not unless you’re co