Her L.A. Knight Page 4

  Regrettably turning from the pleasant thought of China with a fresh-from-making-love blush, he realized he hadn’t made arrangements with her for their purchased date yet. Never one to miss an opportunity, he walked across the ER and quietly approached her.

  She must have felt his presence before he spoke. Her eyes drifted upward, all business when she looked at him. He’d have to do something about that, but not right now.

  After thorough physical examination, he knew in his gut the kid’s shoulder was pummeled beyond repair. Time and X-ray results would prove it one way or the other. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from using an ageold survival technique, making light of life in the ER.

  “It’s a shame that kid’s college scholarship is going down the gutter,” he said. “Literally.”

  She looked thoughtful and distant when she nodded her head. “You’re awfully quick to write people off, aren’t you?”

  “I’m just speaking the truth.”

  “You know with physical therapy and a lot of hard work, he may get 100 per cent range of motion back someday.”

  “Not before he graduates high school.” Rick rubbed his face with his hand and wished he could tap into his optimistic side once in a while. He glanced across at the boy’s persistent parents who’d come back into the ER and were waiting patiently outside the room for the X-ray technician to leave. “Let’s be honest, the odds of his throwing another football this season are nil, unless he’s ambidextrous.”

  “Until we get the X-rays back we can’t be sure of the full extent of his injury.” She looked pleased with herself, like he hadn’t already considered that part of the equation.

  “Let’s hope.”

  She lifted her chin. “May I ask whatever happened to your compassion gene?”

  “I’ve got plenty of compassion. Well, the passion part anyway.” He tried his charming-to-a-fault look, the one that usually got a smile out of a woman. Instead, it fell on uninterested, though exotic, eyes. Rising to the challenge, he grinned.

  “Listen,” he said. “I didn’t get a chance to talk about our date over dinner.”

  She stiffened and went looking for something under a stack of papers. “You don’t have to take me out, Rick. Besides, we just had dinner, and you said ‘just dinner’. Remember? So, as far as I’m concerned, if you want to reimburse me, we’re set.”

  A few wisps of dark hair had escaped her severe hairdo. They framed her face and played with her milky white neck. He had a sudden urge to do the same, but with his fingertips. Instead, he cleared his throat.

  “Oh, no, you don’t. You’re not getting off the hook that easily. Not for a mere five bucks in a hospital cafeteria.”

  For the first time in the conversation she glanced at him. “It’s just that I think my sister put you on the spot.” Her earnest eyes looked like emeralds.

  “Not at all. If anyone’s on the spot it’s you, and guess what? I don’t care.” He grinned even wider. “How about this weekend?”

  She shook her head. “We’re both scheduled to work.”

  Thinking fast, he jumped back in. “I’ve got Friday night off—how about you?”

  She hesitated, and glanced toward the posted ER work schedule hanging on a clipboard on the wall outside the medication room.

  Before she had a chance to make any changes, he strode across the floor and yanked it from its hook. She rushed behind him, making quick clog sounds, as if she thought she could beat him to it.

  He whisked it up and above her head. “Oh, no you don’t.” He held it playfully at a distance and searched for the information he hoped would clinch the deal. Damn. She was scheduled to work Friday, and had Thursday off.

  A pleased grin stretched across her full red-tinted lips when she realized the work schedule was in her favor. Sierra walked up behind her.

  “Hey, China, I can switch my Friday with your Thursday so you can go out with Rick.” She carried a thoracentesis tray and only stopped long enough to foil China’s plans for reneging on going out with him.

  China’s grin disappeared and her mouth dropped open.

  “Well there you go, honey. Looks like it was meant to be.”

  “What’d I tell you about comparing me to food?” China shook her head.

  “You know, a guy could get an inferiority complex seeing your attitude about a date with me.” He pretended to be hurt, but enjoyed the whole set-up. He couldn’t have paid Sierra enough for her perfect timing.

  China took her time answering. He could tell her brain was busy working out the logistics, probably making plans to get even with her sister and stand him up at the same time.

  “OK. I’ll go out with you on one condition.”

  He tipped his head, surprised she’d agreed but wondering what stipulation she could possibly come up with to ruin the evening. “Name it.”

  “That I bring my nephew, Timmy. Since Sierra will be working for me, and she doesn’t have a sitter for Friday nights, because Lance is in a bowling league, it’s the least I can do.”

  Looking completely pleased with herself, she crossed her arms and tapped her clog, daring him to object.

  Damn. A kid?

  No way would he give China the satisfaction of thinking she’d gotten away with anything. He picked up Chad’s chart and prepared to walk away.

  “OK,” he said. “If the kid comes, then we’re having dinner at my place. He can play with my dogs. And for messing with my plans, I nominate you to cook.”

  He flapped the chart shut and returned to the exfootball star and his anxious parents, before China could utter a word in protest.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHINA grinned with pleasure. Rick lifted his eyebrows in surprise. Timmy’s cowlick-ridden head bobbed up and down while he covered his mouth with a small hand and giggled. This was turning out to be some Friday night.

  So far, the kid had beaten the big guy twice at checkers.

  She hid her smile when Rick looked suspiciously at her.

  “What kind of checker shark did you bring to my house, huh?” He made a playfully sinister glare at her six-year-old nephew.

  Timmy stuck out his chest. “Play me again. Come on,” he said with a raspy boyish voice. His face flushed red and his little mouth twisted with glee while he fought his laughter.

  “Oh, yeah? Well, your Aunt China is going to have to barbeque the burgers while I’m whipping your, uh, bum.”

  “I’m going to whip yours,” Timmy said, lining up his black checkers on the board.

  OK, so she’d tried to pull a fast one on Rick by bringing her nephew to foil their date, and it had backfired. Turnabout was fair play, even if it meant she’d have to cook.

  China hated to miss the big event, though she had a pretty good hunch as to who would win yet again. Hunger pains and the thought of a home-cooked burger made her mouth water. She headed to the kitchen, stopping short to warn them.

  “I don’t want to hear any bickering or anyone accusing anyone else of cheating. Got that?” She made a stern “aunt” face, first for Timmy, then for Rick. When her gaze found Rick’s, an odd sparkle in his eyes caught her off guard. Were those butterflies in her stomach? Nah, she was just hungry. She looked away and used the dogs for cover.

  “Come on, girls,” she called to Chloe and Jezebel, Rick’s black Labrador retrievers. “Let’s leave the boys to slug it out.”

  The dogs loped across the small living room and happily followed her through the kitchen door.

  She thought she’d thrown Rick off track by insisting on bringing Timmy on their date, but so far he’d devoted one hundred per cent of his attention to her knobby-kneed, redheaded nephew. She had to admit it delighted her. It also touched her heart that he kept letting Timmy win at checkers. Who would have guessed he’d be so terrific with kids?

  The big hunk from the ER had never let on there was a nurturing side to him before. Seeing him in a new light both perplexed and pleased China.

  She gasped when she saw her goofy ne
wsletter picture hanging on his refrigerator, secured by a rainbow magnet. At least there wasn’t a drawn-on mustache.

  She washed her hands and noticed two sets of expectant eyes watching her every move. The dogs sat quietly while she formed the burger patties, placed them on a wax paper-lined plate and carried them outside. Rick had set everything up, and the coals were white hot and made a satisfying spitting sound when she put the meat onto the grill.

  Another surprise grabbed her attention. Rick had potted plants, row after row of them, on his rustic wooden patio. The lawn was small but well manicured, and shrubs covered the height and length of the back fence. Unlike the flashy, in-your-face guy at work, his home was subdued, comfortable, and appealing.

  Chloe whined, bringing China’s attention back to the burgers. She looked over her shoulder. No one was looking. She threw an extra burger on the barbeque for the dogs to share, and winked. Chloe cocked her head, like she’d read her mind.

  She flipped the meat just as Timmy made a triumphant outburst. “Woo-hoo! I beat you again.”

  The back door swung open, with Rick carrying Timmy over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She’d rarely seen her nephew laugh so hard. He kicked and squirmed, pretending to fight, but clearly loved every second of hanging upside down with drool pouring out of his mouth.

  “Stop. Stop,” he squealed.

  Rick gently flopped her nephew onto the grass. “Get him, girls.” Chloe and Jezebel romped over and began licking Timmy. The boy twisted into a ball and dissolved into laughter.

  China smiled so widely her cheeks hurt. When was the last time that had happened?

  Once Timmy and the dogs started playing Frisbee, Rick wandered over China’s way. He wore broken in jeans and a snug T-shirt, and she couldn’t help but notice how the clothes clung to his body. His cowboy boots were brown and well worn, unlike the fancy ones he’d had on the other night. He combed his hand through his rumpled brown hair, then took a deep whiff of the food and assumed a blissful expression. His broad grin made her knees go wobbly. She flipped the burgers again to distract herself.

  “I’ll wash up and grab the potato salad and buns,” he said, with that same sparkle in his eyes he’d used on her earlier.

  Welcoming his help, she pretended to ignore that look.

  They ate outside on a wooden picnic table under a heat light and bug-zapper.

  Zzzzt.

  “Oh, another one bought it.” A fascinated Timmy never grew tired of pointing it out, over and over and over.

  China relaxed and enjoyed the scene. Everything felt natural here at Rick’s house, which surprised her. At work, he always seemed to be “on.” But here he was as natural as unpasteurized honey. She definitely preferred this Rick, though she had every plan to keep him at a safe distance.

  Rick cleared the table and, without thinking twice, China jumped up to help. Timmy went back to bug-watching and Frisbee-throwing with the dogs.

  No sooner had they reached the sink than the doorbell rang. Rick wiped his hands on his thighs and strode to the front door.

  “Hey, D’Wayne. Come in.”

  He escorted a baggy-clothed, backward-ballcap-wearing teenager with dreadlocks into the kitchen, and made introductions all around.

  “You hungry? I’ll grill a burger for you.” Rick didn’t give the kid a chance to answer. He grabbed the meat from the refrigerator and had a patty made in a beat. “Get yourself a soda while I put this on.” He pushed through the door to the grill.

  By the easy way he found his drink, D’Wayne was no stranger to Rick’s kitchen. Timmy had come back inside and followed the teenager’s every move in awe. He cast a half-smile at her nephew. “What up, little dude?”

  Timmy turned suddenly shy, but followed him out back.

  Though reserved around China, D’Wayne opened up with Rick outside. Through the back door, she listened to their basketball conversation about the Lakers’ latest losing streak, while she washed the dishes.

  When she’d finished, she brought two cans of soda outside—a refill for D’Wayne and one for Rick.

  Rick sat across from the teen, giving him his full attention. “So how’s school going?”

  D’Wayne got quiet. “Well, I went every day this week.”

  Rick nodded with approval, looking impressed. “Do any homework?”

  D’Wayne made a sheepish look. “Some.”

  “Well, there you go. Keep it up.”

  D’Wayne fought a smile, and drank some more soda.

  “Where are you heading tonight?” Rick asked.

  “Nowhere. Just kickin’ back.” He looked over his shoulder, checking out where China was.

  She got the distinct impression that D’Wayne had something on his mind, and wasn’t about to open up with an audience.

  “Would it be OK if Timmy and I walked the dogs?” she asked.

  “I think they’d like that,” Rick said, with an appreciative glance.

  Timmy jumped up from watching the bug-zapper, excited. “I get to walk Jezebel, OK, Aunt China?”

  She helped him put the leashes on both dogs, and they exited with animals in tow through the back-yard gate.

  A half-hour later Timmy was dragging his feet, but the dogs were still raring to go. China checked her watch. After nine. Definitely past his bedtime. They strolled up the path to Rick’s door just as D’Wayne and Rick were involved in a complicated handshake that ended with knocking knuckles.

  “Wow,” Timmy said, fascinated.

  “I’m proud of you D’Wayne,” Rick said.

  “Yeah.” D’Wayne almost smiled. He nodded to Timmy and China when he passed them. “Think I’ll go home and watch some tube.”

  “I’ll see you Sunday morning, OK? We’ll work on that English paper.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You sure you don’t need a lift to the bus stop?”

  “Nah.” He wandered down the street looking like he had nothing in particular to do.

  His full attention back to China, Rick smiled as they went inside. “Good walk?”

  She nodded. “So tell me how a guy like you knows a kid like D’Wayne.”

  “I’m in a big brother program. He got assigned to me. D’Wayne’s come a long way in the last year.”

  What else would Rick pull out of his bag of tricks?

  “He just told me he was invited to a party where he knew there’d be drugs and alcohol, and he decided to come visit me instead.”

  “That’s fantastic,” she said.

  They looked at each other for several seconds. His eyes glided over her mouth and hair. She glanced away before she could get that butterfly feeling again. They’d managed to spend several hours together without any effort, aside from intense, lingering glances, yet had kept their distance. She’d made sure of that, and she wasn’t anywhere near ready to scale the divide.

  On the couch, Timmy yawned and rubbed his eyes. Relieved by the distraction, and on the verge of breaking the inevitable news, she cleared her throat. “It’s time to take Timmy home and put him to bed.”

  As if on cue, there was a light tap on the front door. China assumed D’Wayne had returned for that lift to the bus stop, and was surprised when Rick opened the door to her sister.

  “Hi, Mommy,” Timmy ran across the room and hugged her leg.

  “Hey, squirt.” She bent to give him a tight hug.

  “What are you doing here?” China asked, incredulous.

  “They were overstaffed tonight, so I volunteered to leave early.”

  China crossed her arms. “Oh, really. Good thing you happened to know Rick’s address.” She glanced at Rick, who wore a poker face. “I can’t believe I fell for this set-up.”

  Rick raised his hands. “I swear I had nothing to do with it. But I must compliment Sierra on her thoroughness.” He grinned, and ruffled Timmy’s hair. “Well, it was great meeting you kid.”

  Sierra smirked apologetically at China.

  She shook her head. Oh, the vicious webs Si
erra could weave when it came to fixing her kid sister up with a date.

  Timmy smiled at Rick, showing off a missing front tooth. “I liked kicking your bum.”

  “Yeah? Well, next time I’m going to kick your butt.”

  Sierra lifted a brow, took Timmy by the hand and said goodnight, leaving China feeling nervous for the first time in the entire evening.

  “May I get you a drink?” Rick asked, switching on music and heading for the kitchen.

  She half expected him to lower the lights, too.

  Angry, but not quite feeling trapped, China made a quick decision. “I’d like some herbal tea, if you don’t mind.”

  Trying hard to ignore the sweet and sexy jazz saxophone music he’d put on, she sat on the couch and crossed her denim-clad legs.

  His living room reflected a man’s taste—dark leather furniture, smoked glass over a varnished tree-stump coffee-table, with recessed lighting casting a warm glow over the stark white walls, and several framed classic-car posters.

  A picture of an older woman was placed in a key spot on the nearest bookcase. His mother? She had kind eyes, a sweet smile, and loads of deep brown hair. Rick had inherited all of it.

  She glanced around the room, but couldn’t find a picture of his father anywhere.

  Rick clanked and banged around the kitchen, opening drawers and cupboards, until a whistle signaled the water had boiled for her tea.

  A moment later Rick pushed through the kitchen door with a tray complete with two mugs and steeping teabags, cookies, and what looked like two dog biscuits. She’d always sworn you could tell a lot about a man by the way he treated animals. From the looks of Chloe and Jezebel, Rick was a damn nice guy, a fact she wasn’t any where near ready to deal with.

  Looking smug, he placed everything on the coffee-table and sat next to her. Only then did she realize how good he smelled, like spicy soap and chamomile tea.

  “There’s only one thing wrong with tonight,” he said as he relaxed into the comfortable couch next to her.

  “Really?”

  He glanced at her sports shoes.

  “You’re not wearing those sexy, slinky shoes you had on the other night.” He popped a cookie into his mouth and crunched. “It hurts to know that underneath those sensible shoes are two perfectly beautiful feet with red polish on adorable toes, yet you selfishly keep them to yourself.” He shook his head. “Cruel.”