Chapter Four
Derek
Iwoke up early on Sunday morning, which was unusual these days. Since I’d come home from the hospital following my last surgery, I’d given myself tacit permission to throw out the schedule on which I’d lived for the decade before—no more early wake-up calls for PT, no more regimented, timed-to-the minute itinerary. How easily all of that had fallen by the wayside had been a little unsettling to a guy like me, who’d assumed I’d be in the Army until I died or was forced to retire.
But when there was no reason to get out of bed before dawn, it wasn’t difficult to justify lazing around. Sleeping until ten or even later had become a matter of defiance for me, a way of flipping the bird at ... who? The Army? Past me? I wasn’t sure how to direct the anger that I still felt. I didn’t blame the military for my injury; it had been a randomly-timed, unpredictable wind gust coupled by a faulty D-clip. Maybe I was mad at myself for not bouncing back faster, or at my body for what I saw as its betrayal.
Today, though, I had a reason to pull my bones out of bed. I had promised Tasha that I’d attempt yard work, and there was a chance that she might show up to check on me. Why that idea motivated me, I couldn’t explain—or maybe I just didn’t want to think about it too closely.
Initially, I’d scoffed at the idea of this tiny woman being able to do anything to help me, but the truth was that Tasha O’Hare was a hell of a lot stronger than she appeared to be. She didn’t take any nonsense from me, and she didn’t coo over me when I started in on my poor-me bullshit. She had a way of looking at me that made me aware of just how thoroughly she saw through my crap.
But she was also encouraging. She didn’t lie to me, but she did give me hope. That itself was a freaking miracle. When she’d said on Friday that she wanted me to try working on my lawn, something in my brain had clicked, because Tasha believed I could do this. I could take back something that had made me who I was, once upon a time. I could recover a little piece of the me who used to be, and if that was possible, then ... other things might follow.
I showered, even though I knew that I was going to be getting dirty and sweaty. I didn’t shave, though; I didn’t want Tasha to think I’d done anything special just because she was coming over. If she came over. Because she might, but then again, she might not. I’d seen on her face that she was worried about what showing up at my house might mean. For all her stern glares at me, this girl had a face that I could read like a book. And I’d seen it clearly on Friday: she was concerned that I was developing feelings for her beyond that a patient should have for his doctor.
Well, duh.
Of course, I wasn’t going to confirm that. But the more time I spent with Tasha, the more I liked her. And beyond that, I was attracted to her in a way I hadn’t been to any woman since before the accident, maybe even longer. I found that I loved her laugh, I appreciated her spunk, and I was having trouble hiding how hard I got whenever she touched me.
She was always professional, of course. Tasha knew what she was doing, and there was a quiet assuredness in her when we worked together. Her hands on me were only meant to guide or correct, but unfortunately, no one had let my dick in on that little tidbit of knowledge. He had a mind of his own, and more than once, I’d had to turn to my side abruptly to hide the tent in my shorts. Luckily, Tasha always assumed I moved in response to pain, not embarrassment.
All morning, as I ate breakfast and then made the pilgrimage to the garage to gather the tools I’d need, I kept up a steady mantra in my head.She might not come. And that’s okay.I steeled myself against the disappointment I knew I’d feel when she didn’t show up today, remembering that if she didn’t, it was only because she didn’t want to cross boundaries. It had nothing to do with me.
I pictured how I’d play it off on Monday, at my regular appointment, if she didn’t come today. I’d pretend that I’d never really expected her to come by. If she apologized or tried to explain, I’d act like it hadn’t mattered to me, anyway. But all during those rehearsed conversations, another set of could-bes crept in: what would I say if shedidshow up? How was I going to play this? If I made a move to show her what I was feeling, would she get skittish and turn tail?
Brooding on all of this, I loaded my rake, shovel, hoe and clippers into the wheelbarrow and lifting the handles, began wheeling it down the driveway. The morning air was soft, and from the nearby trees, birds chirped happily. A couple of squirrels raced past me, and in the middle of the lawn, a small rabbit lifted his head to gaze at me in surprise.
“That’s right,” I said, unable to hide the smile in my voice. “I’m back. So, you all are going to have to stop eating my flowers and digging up the beds, got it? You’ve had a long vacation from me, a long time to get used to doing whatever the hell you want out here, but it’s over now.”
“Who are you talking to, dude?”
I turned around, startled, to see Owen standing behind me, his hands buried in his pockets and an expression of amusement on his face. I hadn’t heard him pull up alongside the curb. Damn stupid electric car. That thing was like the spy mobile, it was so silent.
“I was talking to the squirrels and the rabbits, giving them notice that their reign of terror here is over now. What the hell are you doing here?”
He grinned at me and shrugged. “I just happened to be driving by, and I saw you standing out in your front yard. I thought I’d see what you were up to.”
“Uh huh.” I narrowed my eyes. “Did Tasha put you up to this? Is this her way of checking in on me?”
“Who’s Tasha?” Owen began rolling up his sleeves, reaching for the rake.
“Oh. Um, Ms. O’Hare. My physical therapist.”Damn, now I had to explain. “See, this was my assignment from her today—to get back out here and work on the yard, like I used to. And I thought maybe she’d called Shaw to get you guys to make sure I was doing what she said.”
He shook his head. “Nah. Seriously, I was just passing by. I was going to grab a burger and a beer, watch the game this afternoon ... nothing big. But I’d rather stay here and give you a hand.”
Now I was stuck. I couldn’t chase Owen away, not without coming off like an asshole and not without him getting suspicious. Swallowing a sigh, I picked up the clippers. “Okay, sure, if that’s what you want. You can get started on raking out the beds. We’ll put the leaves into the bins in the garage—you can drag them out here—and I’ll compost them later.”
For the next thirty minutes, we worked together in companionable silence. Owen wasn’t a loud guy; he wasn’t a talker, and when we all hung out, he was the one most likely to sit and listen to the rest of us. I’d gotten to know him pretty well in the months leading up to my accident, because along with Jake and me, he’d been the only single man left in our group. Even before Shaw had officially begun dating his Delia, he’d been so hung up on her that he hadn’t wanted to go out with us.
And now with Jake getting hot and heavy with Samantha’s former roommate, Harper, it looked like Owen and I were truly the last men standing. I wasn’t sure how that made me feel. Were we the ones too wily to be caught, or were we being left behind by the rest of our friends?
I thought of Tasha, and I considered what it would be like to do more than just bang her. What would happen if I asked her on a date? Was she one of these chicks who wanted monogamy, security and a commitment? Or wasn’t she ready to settle down?
“You okay, man?” Owen frowned at me, resting his hands on the top of the rake handle. “You’re just kind of standing there.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I was just thinking—”
A car horn sounded nearby, and my heart leaped at the same time that my brain went into overdrive.Tasha!But when I turned around to look, it wasn’t her. Instead, Shaw’s Jeep had slowed to a stop behind Owen’s car, and as I watched, four men spilled out.
