Page 18 of Too Guarded to Love

Jonathan’s phone chimed. His tanned brow furrowed as he read the message. “Please call when she asks about me.” He withdrew a business card from his pocket and handed it to Gloria. “I’ll come right over so she has someone here who cares about her.”

She already does.

Nic sighed. Of course he cared about Kane’s sister. He’d battled terrorists to rescue Chris’s wife, Scarlett, and a drug cartel to rescue Kane’s fiancée, Beth, and he’d do it again.

Their lips hadn’t been on his cock, though.

Gloria blew out a breath as the sliding doors closed behind Jonathan. “Well, that was interesting.” She shot Nic a glare. “And unethical.”

Nic shrugged as he watched the guy stalk into the parking lot. “I didn’t break any privacy laws. He clearly already knew she was here.”

She backed away. “I’m going to pretend I never heard this conversation.”

Joe pulled out his notepad. “I’ll have Dr. Darren’s car checked for a tracker.”

“Thanks.” Nic stared at the glass doors long after Jonathan disappeared. “I have a feeling this is going to be a long damn night.”

“Nic?”

Goose bumps pricked the back of his neck as he spun to face the woman he’d hoped to never see again.

She tossed back her electric-blue hair as she jumped from her seat. The last time he’d seen Natalie, her hair had been as yellow as the bananas on the convenience store counter where they’d bumped into each other. The time before that at an Italian restaurant, as red as the marinara sauce on his pasta. Bracing himself, he gritted his teeth as she dropped a motorcycle helmet in the empty chair next to her and hurried across the waiting room.

“Holy shit. Nic Romero.” She eyed him from head to toe. “Nice to see you again, even if it is in the ER. You okay?”

He stiffened at the gleam in her makeup-laden eyes. He’d learned the hard way he couldn’t trust it. “I’m fine. Just helping out a friend.”

“Me too. He’s getting an X-ray now. I told him he takes his turns too fast, but…” She shrugged her shoulders. “Boys will be boys. How long has it been since we’ve seen each other?” She raised her eyes to the ceiling and tapped her chin. “Oh, I know. It was at that convenience store in Virginia, six months-ish ago, remember? You were wearing your uniform and looked so handsome.”

“Yeah, I remember.” He’d stopped for gas and a container of mints before he headed to the church for his buddy’s wife’s⁠—

He stepped back from Natalie and the memories she unearthed. A crash down memory lane wasn’t on his agenda. “I’ve got to go.”

“Don’t you have a few minutes to spend with an old friend?”

Getting a colonoscopy sounded more appealing than spending another second with her. She had the old part right, though. Even though she was the same age as him, the dark circles under her blue eyes and the lines etched into her porcelain skin made her look a decade older. The friend part was a dead lie, though.

She touched his sleeve. “How come it seems like every time I come to the East Coast, you’re in my path? Remember when I saw you at that restaurant in DC?”

And he’d like to forget it. That had been over a year ago, right after he’d learned about⁠—

Fuck. The girl possessed an eerie ability to show up when he was at his lowest.

She cocked her head to the sign pointing to the cafeteria. “Let’s get something to eat while we wait for our friends and talk baseball. Did you see the catcher Cleveland brought up from the minors? The way he throws down to second reminds me of when you used to…”

The antiseptic hospital smell morphed into another odor as memories he’d locked down busted from their prison.

Rubber, polyester, and well-oiled leather burned in a bonfire so close it singed the tips of his toes. Sparks flew into his face from the sky-high flames. The heat singed his skin and smoke scorched his eyes, but he didn’t let a single tear fall. Teenagers needed to learn that mistakes led to consequences.

“I’ve got to go.”

She pressed her painted lips into a pout. “Come on, Nic. I accepted your apology the last time I saw you, and the time before that. I thought we were good.”

He’d never apologized, and they’d never been good. What would be fucking great? Erasing her from his memories. And if she dared bring up baseball again, she might be the one in triage. He’d never hit a woman, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t fantasize about it.

Unlike reality, fantasies didn’t have consequences.

“Mr. Romero.”