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Dr. Stinger adjusted the bed until it lay flat, and then instructed Devon to lie down on his stomach.
The doctor left the room and returned with a portable X-ray machine and the nurse. Once the examination was complete, and the nurse and equipment were out of the room, Dr. Stinger readjusted the bed so Devon could sit upright again.
“I’m going to recommend a nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory for you. Considering your attitude toward medication, I’ll start you at a low dose.” The doctor quickly wrote on his prescription pad. “Also, you’ll need to remain active—walking will help keep the joints lubricated and lessen your discomfort. Where are you staying while you’re here?”
“I’m in a rental town house on Rising Tide Drive.”
Dr. Stinger’s brow hitched. “Two story?”
He nodded.
“You’ll need to stay off the second floor. Walking will help, but climbing stairs several times a day will put undue stress on your injury. Can you make arrangements to do that?”
“I guess so.” He knew that would involve calling MHI and probably interacting with Hadley again.
“You may also need some help around the house. Standing in one spot, such as for cooking or washing dishes, is probably not going to be comfortable. You should consider hiring someone for that kind of thing.” Tearing the prescription from his pad, he handed it over.
Devon accepted the prescription, tucking it into the hip pocket of his jeans. “I’ll look into it.” The housekeeping staff already kept the place clean for him, but he’d still need to make some adjustments. Plus, he’d planned to cook for himself, since he didn’t want to spend two and a half weeks eating takeout. Now he’d have to see if Hadley could spare a staff member to be at his disposal.
As Devon left the clinic, heading for the pharmacy two doors down, he inhaled, letting the ocean breeze fill his nostrils. The air in Los Angeles was notoriously dirty, and deep inhales there often involved suffering through some unpleasant odors. Here, all he smelled was the salt, the sand and the grass.
Coming here once a year did him a world of good. It wasn’t just about escaping the busyness of life in LA—it was about returning home to the place that had shaped his youth. Doing that gave him a sense of peace, and he’d sorely needed that when he lost Natalie.
As he swung open the door to the pharmacy, he contemplated what he would say to Hadley when he called the office to make his requests. She’d said to call if he needed anything, and now he’d have to take her up on that.
Chapter 4
Friday afternoon, Hadley was stretched out on the love seat in her office with her head resting on one of the arms. She held her cell phone to her ear, listening to her mother on the other end of the line.
“Hadley, say something, honey. We need to decide what we’re serving so I can send out for the groceries.” At fifty-six, Viola Monroe was still as fastidious as ever when it came to her holiday menu. While she loved to cook, she hated to shop and always arranged to have the groceries delivered to the house.
“I know, Mama. I like what you’ve mentioned so far.” Hadley tossed one jeans-clad leg over the other, resting her ankles on the opposite arm of the love seat from where she reclined. “We should definitely do a glazed ham. It’s tradition, and I don’t think anybody wants to change it. And the turkey breast was a big hit with the guys last year.”
“We’ll keep those things. But we need to decide on some side dishes to go along with them.” Viola paused a moment before launching into a list. “We need at least three vegetables, two starches, desserts...”
While her mother went on and on about the menu for Christmas dinner, Hadley found her mind wandering. That was common whenever Viola started obsessing about the minutiae of the holiday meal. Today, however, Hadley’s mind wandered into the most enticing territory. She recalled Devon’s arrival in town, and the time she’d spent in the town house with him. Her mind replayed the intense look in his hazel eyes, the way he’d smiled at her. She inhaled and could swear she smelled his woodsy, masculine cologne. She imagined what his arms must look like beneath that sweater, what the hard lines of his chest might feel like beneath her palms...
“Hadley, are you listening to me?”
Snapped back to reality by the harsh tone of her mother’s voice, she swung her legs down and sat up. “Sorry, Mama. I’m swamped with work around here, so my mind wandered a bit.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Viola didn’t sound convinced in the least. “I said, we’ll have roasted potatoes, stuffing, glazed brussels sprouts, green beans and turnip greens to round out the meal.”
“Sounds fantastic.”
“Then I asked you what we should have for dessert.”
Frantically searching her mind for an answer, Hadley nervously drummed her fingers on her thigh. Then she remembered a conversation she’d had with Devon the previous year about his favorite desserts. “Why don’t we have Dutch apple pie and peach cobbler?”
After a few beats, Viola answered, “I like it. We haven’t had those in years, not since your father got on this tiramisu kick.”
Hadley breathed a sigh of relief.
“Now that we’ve settled that, why don’t you tell me what you were really thinking about just now when you were ignoring me?”
Her eyes widened as she realized her relief had been premature. “I, uh...well, I found another stack of repair request forms on my desk yesterday, and Cam wouldn’t—”
Viola scoffed. “Oh, please. You’re my daughter. I’ve only known you since you took your first breath. And I know good and well you weren’t thinking about anything related to work.”
Falling back against the cushioned backrest of her love seat, Hadley sighed. “It’s nothing. It’s just that Devon checked in Wednesday, and I’ve been a bit...distracted.”
Viola’s soft chuckle met that admission. “Honey, I know he’s here. He’s a celebrity. Everybody knows he’s here. What I want to know is when are you going to ask him over for Christmas dinner?”
She bristled. “Mama. I’ve asked him to join us for dinner for the past four years, and every time he’s turned me down.” Devon had always pointed to his desire to spend the day in reflective solitude. She wasn’t sure that was the full story, but who was she to question his choice?
“Maybe the fifth time will be the charm. I respect his wishes if he says no again, but at least ask him, honey. Nobody should be alone on Christmas, and we have so much to share.”
As much as she’d love to bring Devon home for Christmas—if only to corner him under some mistletoe—she still doubted he’d be receptive to her invitation. “I don’t know, Mama.”
Viola cleared her throat. “Hadley Aria Monroe, you are going to ask Devon to join us for Christmas dinner, do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She could tell from her mother’s tone that she didn’t have a choice.
“Heavens, girl. The worst he can do is say no. It isn’t as if he’s going to run you over with his car for inviting him.” Viola chuckled again. “Okay, I’ll let you go. And tell your brothers they’d better straighten up or I’ll send your father over there.”
That comment brought a giggle out of her. “Thanks, Mama. ’Bye.”
After she ended the call with her mother, she rose from the love seat and returned to her desk. While she usually tried to leave early on Friday afternoons, she had a bit more work she wanted to do before she started her weekend. Easing into the seat, she flipped open her laptop.
Before the computer could awaken from sleep mode, her office line rang. Lifting the receiver from the cradle, she placed it to her ear. “Hello?”
“Hi, Hadley. It’s Devon.”
Her heart leaped into her throat the moment she heard his voice. He didn’t need to identify himself; there was no mistaking the sexy baritone she often heard whispering to her in her dreams at night. It took a few seconds to find her voice, and when she did, her words tumbled out in a rush. “Devon, hi. How are you? Is everything okay with your rental unit?”
He chuckled. “Everything’s fine, I just need a little bit of help. I knew you were the right person to call.”
She smiled, wrapping the spiral telephone cord around her index finger like a love-struck teenager as she replied, “I sure am. What can I do for you?”
“I went to the doctor to have my back checked out, and it turns out I need to avoid going up and down stairs.”
Hadley’s mind automatically swung into problem-solving mode. Flipping open the property book on her desk, she leafed through the pages. “We could move you, but I don’t think we have any single-story units available until after the New Year.”
“That’s fine. I love this place, and I don’t really want to move out of it, anyway.”
Her brow creased into a frown. “So, what would you like to do? I certainly don’t want you going against the doctor’s orders.”
“Oh, I won’t. I have no desire for my back to get any worse.”
“How can I help, then?”
“Could you possibly spare a staff member to come over here and rearrange things for me so I don’t have to use the second floor?”
It was an unexpected request, but it confirmed her suspicions that he hadn’t been telling her the full story about his back. She thought about the layout of the unit for a moment. What he’d asked for seemed doable. Since there was a bedroom and a three-piece bath on the first floor, the arrangement would work fine. “Sure, I’ll send someone right over. They will be there within the hour, in fact.”
“Great.” The tone of his voice indicated he was smiling. “Thanks a lot, Hadley. I really appreciate it.”
“You know how much we value your business. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”
“Perfect. Thanks again.” And he disconnected the call.
Unraveling her fingertips from the cord, Hadley sighed. Then she returned the receiver to the cradle and sat back in her chair, grinning. An opportunity had presented itself, and she wasn’t about to miss it. She’d promised to send someone over to help him, and she would. She simply hadn’t said whom.
I have the perfect staffer in mind to take care of Devon.
Me.
* * *
Devon had just bent to grab a soda from the bottom of the refrigerator when he heard the knock at the door. He shut the fridge, with his ginger ale in hand, and went to answer it. Hadley wasn’t kidding about getting someone over here quickly. It had only been about a half hour since he’d put in the call to the office.
He strolled to the door, looking out the bay window as he passed it. Noting the MHI company car sitting in the driveway, he didn’t bother to check the peephole before swinging the door open.
He’d expected to find some guy in the all-blue MHI uniform, ready to do his bidding.
Instead, as the door opened, he came face-to-face with Hadley. She stood on the porch, wearing a long-sleeved blue MHI T-shirt, a pair of dark skinny jeans, high-top sneakers and the most alluring smile he’d ever seen.
He’d been hanging around the town house in a loose tank and athletic shorts and suddenly felt very aware of his attire. Apparently, Hadley shared that awareness, because he saw her eyes rake over his body. Then her gaze lifted to meet his.
“Hi, Devon.”
His name on her lips sounded almost musical. “Hi, Hadley. I thought you were sending someone over.”
She shrugged, as if she did this sort of thing all the time. “Everyone else was either out on a job or had already gone home by the time you called. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” Her lashes fluttered as she gazed up at him.
He sensed the double meaning in her words. He smiled, folding his arms over his chest. “So, you’re sure you’ll be able to move everything I need to be rearranged?”
She laughed, a tinkling sound reminiscent of ice cubes falling into a glass. Bending her arms at the elbows in a show of strength, she quipped, “Kickboxing, remember? I got it. Now, are you gonna let me come in?”
Shaking his head, he stepped aside to allow her entry. Once she’d crossed the threshold, he closed the door behind her and locked it.
She strode to the center of the living room, near the coffee table, and turned his way. Cracking her knuckles, she asked, “What do you need me to do, Devon?”
The more he watched her move—and considered the way her petite, shapely figure looked even in casual clothing—the more he thought about asking her to do things that would probably be very bad for his back. Shaking those thoughts away, he gestured to the stairs that led to the second floor. “First, I need all my clothes and toiletries moved from the master upstairs into the downstairs bedroom.”
“No problem.” She crossed the room and jogged up the stairs.
He watched her go, again appreciating the view of her ample backside as she climbed the steps. He took a deep breath, wondering how he would keep his thoughts on the task at hand and off her body. The attraction crackling between them was palpable, and part of him knew it had been there for at least the past three years. It was possible she’d been attracted to him before that, and that he’d simply been too wrapped up in his grief over losing Natalie to notice.
Now, as the passage of time lightened the burden of the loss, he saw Hadley in a new light. But the fact remained: she was Campbell Monroe’s baby sister. Not to mention their oldest sibling, Savion. Since Savion had been two years ahead of Devon and Campbell in school, Devon didn’t really know him that well. Still, every interaction he’d ever had with Savion painted him a serious, exacting man who’d likely be content with his baby sister staying single forever.
She returned about fifteen minutes later, descending the stairs with his suitcase in one hand and his toiletry bag in the other. “I went through the closet and the dresser, folded all your stuff and put it in here. Then I cleared everything around the bathroom sink and put it in the toiletry bag.” She moved toward him, extending the bags in his direction. “Look through it and make sure I got everything. Then I’ll help you set it all up downstairs.”
He took his bags to the window seat, where he opened them and inspected the contents as she stood nearby, waiting. “There are only two things missing. My sneakers and my slippers—they’re under the bed.”
“Got it.” She dashed up the stairs again, returning with the shoes. “Is that everything?”
He nodded, impressed with her eagerness to help. “Yes, thank you.”
She smiled again, the corners of her glossy pink lips upturned. “I was just thinking, you’ll need the linens from the closet upstairs, too. Why don’t you go ahead and start putting your things in the downstairs bedroom, and I’ll move the linens to the downstairs closet?”
“Sounds good.” He watched her walk away again, then took his bags into the downstairs bedroom. The room was well appointed, though not as much as the master upstairs. The decor was all done in varying shades of blue, from the dark carpet to the textured medium-blue wallpaper and the softer blues echoed in the bedding. It would meet his needs nicely. The only downfall was the queen-size bed. He preferred the king upstairs, due to his height. But for the sake of his back, he would manage fine with the queen.
He went around the room, putting away his clothes again, the same way he had on the day he’d arrived. Once he’d done that and slid his empty suitcase into the closet, he grabbed his toiletry bag from the bed and headed for the bathroom.
He moved into the bathroom, which was much smaller than the one upstairs, and swung open the mirrored medicine cabinet to put away his stuff. The pedestal sink left him no space to leave toothpaste and whatnot around it, so he tucked away everything he’d need daily and shut the cabinet. He looked to the shower stall, glad the downstairs bathroom had one so he wouldn’t have to climb the stairs to bathe. Satisfied, he tucked the empty toiletry bag under his arm and stepped out into the hallway.
Hadley was already there, tucking fresh towels and sheets into the hall closet. Because of the narrow hallway, there wasn’t any practical way to go around while she had the closet door open, so he waited.
She shut the door, saw him standing there and jumped. A little squeal escaped her lips.
He chuckled. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you, but the hall isn’t wide enough for me to have gone around.”
She put her hand on her chest, drew a few deep breaths. “No problem. I guess I’m just a bit of a nervous Nellie.”
He sensed her tension and instinctively placed a hand on her shoulder. He could feel the stiffness gathered there. “Are you going to be okay?”
She looked up at him, those sparkling brown eyes of hers as wide as the plains in the Midwest. Her mouth fell open in an O shape, but she said nothing.
Something shifted between them as their eyes connected, and he sensed the tension leaving her, the muscles unknotting beneath his hand. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
She shook her head, eyes still wide. “No.”
He gave her shoulder a squeeze before moving his hand away.
Breaking the contact seemed to bring her back to the moment at hand. She blinked a few times, then asked, “Is there anything else you need me to do?”
“My laptop and the binders. I left them in the office. Could you grab them and bring them downstairs?”
She nodded. “Anything else?”
“The writing table up there. I’d like it moved into the downstairs bedroom, if it’s not too heavy.”
She was already headed toward the stairs. “Nah, I got it. That thing’s not as heavy as it looks.”
Over the next several minutes, she moved the writing table into the downstairs bedroom. Once she’d set it in the corner near the window, she placed his laptop and the three binders he’d brought with him on the table. He stood in the bedroom doorway, observing her.
She turned his way. “Are you good now?”
“Yes. Thanks for coming over to do this for me.”
“You’re welcome.” Her brow cocked then. “What’s going on with your back, anyway?”
He thought about what to say and about how much he wanted her to know. Not wanting her to think of him as helpless, he said, “Let’s just say stunt work is hard on the body, and I’m not as young as I once was.” Great. Now I’ve made myself seem old.
“Okay, then.” She looked as if she wanted to know more, but thankfully, she didn’t press. Moving toward him, she spoke again. “I’m headed home.”
He moved so she could exit the bedroom, then trailed her to the door. “Thanks again, Hadley.”
Opening the door, she turned back toward him with a smile. “Remember, if you need anything else, just call.”
“Won’t the office be closed over the weekend?”
A sly expression on her face, she reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a business card. She moved into his personal space, adjusting his arm and hand until his palm was up and open, then pressed the card into his palm. “My cell phone number is on the back.” Closing his fingers over the card, she slipped through the open door and closed it behind her.
As he flipped the card and read the number scrawled there, he couldn’t contain his smile.
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