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“Rocco’s motel rooms have exterior doors, not some fancy interior hallway. Which means Jess would be going right back out in the elements in a couple of hours. Would you recommend that as a doctor?”
“Of course not, but that’s not our call to make.”
Tony shrugged unapologetically. “Well, I made it my call.”
Rhys’s expression was just what Tony would have expected—resigned but unwilling to rock the boat or make a big issue of it.
Tony had lots of lifelong friends, guys he’d grown up with, played street hockey with, chased pretty girls with, and gotten drunk with.
Rhys wasn’t on that list. The two of them had met eight years ago, when Rhys began renting the first floor of this building and converted it into a doctor’s office. At the time, Tony had been working on the second floor with his dad and Uncle Renzo, learning the ropes of running Moretti Brothers Restorations. For the first couple of years, he and Rhys had been nothing more than acquaintances, exchanging a few pleasantries whenever their paths crossed.
One day, on a lark, Tony had invited Rhys to join him, his brothers, and friends for the Wednesday lunch get-together. And to his surprise, the workaholic doctor accepted.
Since then, Rhys had surpassed all the guys Tony had known forever, becoming his best friend in an opposites-attract sort of way.
Rhys was calm to Tony’s hot-headed, careful to Tony’s impulsive, and where Rhys was driven by rational thought, Tony tended to act on pure emotion most of the time, led by gut feelings instead of his brain.
As such, he’d seen Jess shivering in that car and it flipped a switch inside him. He couldn’t stand aside when someone was suffering, and though Jess put on a strong front, he could see the fear, the desperation lingering in her eyes.
He was going to help her whether she wanted him to or not.
“I wouldn’t expect her to thank you for that call,” Rhys said, proving exactly what Tony knew. Rhys had seen Tony’s alpha male surface, and had—in his logical way—played the entire scenario through to the fallout. “Something tells me that once she’s warmed up and gotten some sleep, her real personality will emerge. My money is on spitfire.”
Tony smiled, hoping that was true. Over the years, Jess had become more at ease with their lunchtime gang, trading jokes and sometimes playful barbs. Ordinarily, she was always cheerful and friendly, and it wasn’t a coincidence they always chose to sit in her section.
Jess was a great waitress, attentive without hovering, intelligent, funny…and if he was being really honest, gorgeous as hell. She wasn’t hard on the eyes with her wavy chocolate-brown hair, bright blue eyes, high cheekbones, and petite but curvy figure.
He hadn’t liked seeing her so beaten down this morning. And he realized there had been subtle changes in her appearance—weight loss and dark circles under her eyes—for several weeks now. He was kicking himself for not taking the time to ask if she was okay.
“She’s looked tired at work,” Tony mused.
“Yeah. I was thinking the same thing. I should have noticed. Should have asked if she was alright. I’m feeling like a pretty shitty doctor right now.”
Tony waved those words away. “You’re a good doctor. We don’t know Jess outside of the diner, so how were we supposed to know the tiredness was more than just a bad night’s sleep or the weight loss wasn’t part of some diet?”
Rhys wasn’t that easily convinced, but he didn’t continue the argument. “She’s going to be pissed when she wakes up.”
“Yeah, well, she would have been late for work even if I hadn’t called Rocco—because I don’t intend to let her leave here today until we find out why she was sleeping in a car outside our building.”
“Awesome,” Rhys muttered. “So now you’re adding kidnapping to your list of offenses.”
Tony laughed. “Nothing quite that dire. Unless it becomes necessary, of course. Let’s keep that option in reserve.”
The sound of Jasper’s laughter drifted from the kitchen, prompting both him and Rhys to smile. Jess had a seriously cute son.
“We better get in there,” Tony said, “before the kid eats all our pancakes.”
Rhys turned and led the way just as Aunt Berta placed another pancake on Jasper’s plate.
The little boy looked up at their arrival, his cheeks protruding like a squirrel hoarding nuts.
“Aunt Berta can make pictures in her pancakes!” he said through his full mouth. “I got Mickey Mouse.”
Rhys joined the boy at the table, while Tony stepped next to his aunt at the stove. “Can I get an Angelina Jolie one?” he joked.
Aunt Berta playfully smacked him on the arm. “You and Rhys are getting my standard circles.”
“You’re no fun,” he teased, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “What can I help you with?”
