Flynn loved his time at the Full Spoon. He wished he could volunteer more, but the demands of his job and home life were time-consuming, and he didn’t have much choice in the matter. He gave thanks for the days he could spend with the volunteers and felt privileged to serve the regulars or one-timers, whose stories he would carry with him through his life.
The kitchen was dead silent, as opposed to its usual tornado of organized chaos. He didn’t hear the kitchen’s fearless leader stocking the pantry or cleaning out the walk-in fridge. He walked toward the tiny office off the back hall that led to the dump behind the building.
He rounded the corner, and the smell of garbage hit him square in the chest, assaulting his senses. The industrial back door was open, the hinges creaking as the night’s warm wind swung it back and forth. Flynn’s heart rate picked up. Harper was fanatical about shutting and locking that back door. She didn’t treat the people who came here like criminals, though some of them had a rap sheet a mile wide, but she was honest with herself about the neighborhood the building was located in. Harper would never have left that door open, at least not voluntarily.
Flynn ran down the hallway and came to a stop in front of the office. Harper was on the floor, facedown, her legs and arms spread wide.
“Harper!” He skidded to a halt in front of her and slammed to his knees, checking her pulse. It was there but threadbare. He used the landline on her desk to call 911 for an ambulance.
After the woman on the line told him the ambulance would be there shortly, he dropped the phone and looked over Harper’s body for any signs of a gunshot or knife wound. The safe was wide open and empty, making it clear this had been a robbery. He thanked whatever god had a hand in deciding their fates for the small mercy that her clothes were still on and clearly hadn’t been disturbed. But until he got her to the hospital and they said she was fine, he would still hold his breath.
He gripped one of her hands, praying that she would wake up, that she would be okay. He stayed that way until the ambulance showed up five minutes later. He traveled with her to the hospital and along the journey texted his father that he’d be late, said he had a friend in need, and though his relationship with Harper was purely professional and he didn’t know much about her, he clutched her hand all the way to the hospital and sat vigil in the waiting room until he was certain she would be okay.
* * * *
“Mr. Raine?” Theo called, searching the room for the man who’d arrived with the injured woman. A tall man seated in the corner of the waiting room stood. He had burnished-gold hair and a pale, Irish complexion. As he approached, Theo could see his bright-green eyes were clouded with worry, but the negative emotions didn’t detract from their magnetism. Theo swallowed, then glanced down at the chart he carried, attempting to control his gut reaction to this stranger. In Theo’s years as a doctor, he’d met countless friends and family members of the unfortunates brought into his ER, and he wasn’t detached from the world enough to ignore whether a man or woman was attractive. Some had been temptingly good-looking, but he’d never been hooked as swiftly as in that moment.
“I’m Flynn Raine,” the man said in a deep voice.
Theo cleared his throat, mentally kicking himself in the ass, and focused on the task at hand. He was worried about his companion, and it was Theo’s job to put that worry to rest. “You’re Ms. Pettinger’s…” Theo let it hang, not wanting to assume anything. He could have looked at the paperwork Mr. Raine had filled out, but that would necessitate looking away from the beautiful man. He decidedly didn’t want to do that.
“Friend.” Mr. Raine tucked his hands into his back pockets and pushed his hip out. “Strictly speaking, acquaintance would be more appropriate. I volunteer at the soup kitchen she runs. It’s where I found her. Will she be all right?”
“I expect she’ll make a full recovery.” Mr. Raine might admit to only being Ms. Pettinger’s acquaintance, but the bone-deep sigh of relief he expelled told Theo there was more to their relationship than meets the eye. “She has a bad contusion beneath her eye that split and required stitches, and there is a severe concussion, but we were able to wake her up and we’ll be monitoring her overnight. Does she have any family we should call?”
Mr. Raine shoved his hands through his wavy hair and shook his head. “Not that I know of. I don’t know much about her personal life.”
“That’s all right, Mr. Raine. Would you like to see her?”
“Yes, please.”
Theo gestured toward the room Ms. Pettinger occupied. It had been an unusually slow night in the ER, and Ms. Pettinger was able to get a room to herself. “Call me Flynn. Mr. Raine is my father.” He smiled shortly at the clichéd introduction, clearly aware of how inane it sounded. But Theo could appreciate some sardonic humor, especially during moments of stress. Theo smiled back, and if a nurse had seen him do it, they might have fainted due to shock.
After entering the room, Flynn quickly took up the chair next to Ms. Pettinger’s bed, then clasped her limp hand between his. Aside from the substantial mark on her face, she looked considerably well. Flynn looked back at Theo with relieved gratitude. “Thank you for taking care of her.”
Acting on an unfamiliar instinct, Theo moved forward to grasp Flynn’s shoulder and reassure him. “We’ll keep her safe here.” He didn’t like the look of concern and worry marring Flynn’s expression. But it was more than wanting to smooth the lines at the corners of his mouth and the creases between his brow. A severe drive within Theo urged him to make the man happy and ease any pain he felt.
Flynn stared up at Theo for a moment, their gazes connected, and Theo watched as the frown melted away from Flynn’s expression. Theo couldn’t look away from Flynn’s magnetic gaze, a green as crisp as clover, and there were whispers of what could have been youthful freckles sprinkling his cheeks. As the moment passed and an electric tension built, Theo could have sworn a physical manifestation of the electricity surging through his nerves had sprung forth from his heart, connecting them together.
Everything he’d done and said up to this point wasn’t enough to ease Flynn’s concern. Theo should do more, place his other hand on Flynn’s opposite shoulder, squeeze tighter, support him through his need.
As Theo was about to say something else, anything else, a small voice cut through the tension. Theo thought an interruption would shut the unexpected connection down completely, but when he spotted a pair of big brown eyes looking hazily up at them, it was redirected into something grander, something miraculous that encompassed all three of them. He hadn’t seen her awake. When the nurses had revived her, he’d been preoccupied with another emergency, trusting in his staff to keep her from falling into a coma. But now that she was looking at him with eyes the color of dark chocolate that seemed to see straight through to his heart, his world narrowed and there were only three people left in the universe.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Doc.”
Theo’s instincts as a doctor took over, and he rounded the bed to survey his patient. “Welcome back, Ms. Pettinger.”
“Did I go somewhere?”
Theo anticipated her move and gently placed his hand on her chin. “Don’t move. It won’t feel nice when you do.”
“You have a concussion, Harper.”
She frowned. “Flynn?” Despite his warning, the damn woman looked toward Flynn’s voice, and her tanned skin went sheet white, sweat breaking out over her. Theo quickly grabbed a small receptacle and helped her sit before she vomited. Flynn was there on her other side, holding back her long black hair. As she settled down, Theo relied on Flynn to hold her steady. He set the dirty bowl down, then grabbed a small washcloth, dipping it in the ice water sitting on her bedside table. He gently wiped the filth from her lips, unfazed by the unpleasantness, as he was used to these things in his line of work. But he’d never taken such care with a patient in this way before, had never wanted to clean and care for someone in such an intimate manner.
Theo wasn’t known for his bedside manner in this hospital. He was damn good at his job, and no one would ever challenge that, but he’d overheard the nurses call him a variety of names. “Detached loner robot” was a favorite among them. He didn’t care. He was there to do a job, which he did, and their opinions on his personality didn’t diminish the respect they had for his work. He didn’t treat them unfairly, but he didn’t pretend to be best friends with them either. All his patients had received the same distant yet professional respect, until Ms. Pettinger and Flynn Raine arrived in his small ER.
Flynn and Theo helped Ms. Pettinger lie back down. A concussion was not something to laugh at, but there wasn’t any swelling in her cranium, meaning she would be able to go home in a day or two. She would recover, and while she was at the hospital, Theo would ensure she received the best care he could possibly provide.
“The kitchen…”
“Don’t worry about that, Harper.” Flynn squeezed her hand as her lids drifted shut once more. There was definitely more than friendly affection between them, at least on Flynn’s part. “Just rest.”
“The money. I won’t be able to make this month’s…”
And with that, she was out. Theo noted the time and set his watch to make sure he returned in an hour to wake her up. He doubted he’d need the alarm, feeling he wouldn’t be straying far from Harper Pettinger’s side that night, but he was nothing if not efficient.
“Shit,” Flynn groaned, rubbing his eyes. It was well past midnight, and the poor guy looked strung out and exhausted.
“Is there somewhere you need to be?” Theo asked. “Can I call anyone for you?”
“No. I need to be here, but I also need to go make sure the Full Spoon is locked up for the night. It’s probably already been looted. Fuck. Harper is going to be pissed at me for that.”
“You saved her life, Flynn.” Theo couldn’t help his tone of sarcasm, though it felt out of place with Flynn. “I’m sure she’ll forgive you.”
Flynn grinned up at him, making Theo’s stone heart crack a bit. The sensation was odd, like he was waking up after being buried for years. “Harper has a wicked tongue when someone gets on her bad side. It’s sharp as a knife and can cut you with a simple jab. I’ve seen the casualties.”
Theo glanced at the address written on the chart. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Working in that area, she’d have to keep on her toes.”
“Somebody must have forgotten to lock the back door at the end of the day. That’s how the bastard who did this got in. It could have been much worse. She could have been…” Flynn took a long, shuddering breath. “I’m gonna kill whoever was that careless.” Flynn stood, slightly taller than Theo. “You’ll look after her while I’m gone.”
It wasn’t a question, but Theo nodded and said, “Of course. It’s what I do.”
Flynn stared at him for a moment, like he was searching for an aspect of Theo’s personality that was inappropriate, untrustworthy. Theo couldn’t blame the man. There were many stories of persons of authority taking advantage of those they perceived to be weaker than them. Some of those tales had regrettably occurred in this hospital. Theo was not that type of man, but he couldn’t expect Flynn to trust a stranger he’d met moments ago, no matter Theo had an irrational and desperate desire for Flynn to do just that.
In another out-of-character moment of need, Theo clasped Flynn’s bicep and squeezed reassuringly. “She’s safe here. I swear it.”
Flynn nodded, then after one last glance at Ms. Pettinger’s prone body, quickly turned around and left the room. Theo checked in with the nurses, seeing if he was needed elsewhere, then decided it would be all right if he took a small break. His shift wasn’t over for another eight hours, but he suspected once it was, he wouldn’t be heading home to his empty apartment as he usually did. No, today he would sit by Ms. Pettinger’s side and keep Flynn company when he returned.
For the first time in as long as he could remember, Theo had an impulse to do more than go through the motions. He had begun to think his life would be nothing but work and every now and then a night of satisfying yet meaningless sex. He hadn’t been particularly affected by the bleakness of that prediction, but he also hadn’t known what it could feel like to want someone, two someones, with a sudden urge so strong he should have been afraid of it. Theo didn’t know if anything would come of his unconventional desire, but he wasn’t going to let the divergent warmth in his heart fade for lack of trying.
Chapter Two
Harper woke to a fog of sounds. Others had pulled her from sleep frequently throughout the night, but this time it was her troubled mind that forced her awake. The reality she woke to appeared off. There was no beeping of hospital machines or the antiseptic, sick-person smell her room had been saturated with when they first brought her in. Pain was a thing of the past, yet she couldn’t focus. It was as though she was peering through a veil into an alternate universe, one where beauty and majesty were keys to survival.
When Harper was a child, her Ireland-born grandmother had told her stories of fae and leprechauns, worlds where magic was law and beauty was evil’s mask. Grandma Eithne had been warning her to focus on her current life and pay attention, using fairy tales in place of words of wisdom, as her grandparents had done when she was a girl. But in true rebellious-teenage fashion, Harper dismissed the old woman’s words, like she had with all the elders of her youth. At fifteen, she knew the world better than any of them; a feeling in her gut told her she was ready for the real world. What could they have taught her anyway?
Since opening the Full Spoon, Harper had become singularly focused on helping anyone who walked through her doors. The time she had left for herself, she spent thinking of ways to raise money to keep the kitchen going, or she was physically and emotionally exhausted by the day’s work and collapsed into bed without a thought for her personal well-being. For the past year, a kernel of anxiousness, one familiar to the feeling she’d experienced before deciding to run away, began to bloom in her stomach. She was content in her work, but something spiritually wasn’t right. As anxiety sometimes grew within her, recklessness followed. She was the one who stupidly left the back door open. An instant of haste and carelessness had put her on the streets at fifteen. Now it would destroy her life’s work.