Authors: Jay Crownover
“So you have a handsome, successful doctor interested in taking you out and you are actively avoiding
accepting his invitations out, but a guy that looks like a miscreant comes strolling in and you practically
jump out of your skin in your eagerness to go out with him. Wanna explain that to me, Saint?”
I couldn’t explain it to her. The desire to not be alone on Christmas outweighed any reservations I had
about spending time with Nash. Plus she was my boss; I didn’t think it was appropriate to tell her that
kissing Nash made my brain turn to mush and being close to him melted the typically frozen barriers I had
in place when it came to interacting with the opposite sex.
“He’s a tattoo artist not a miscreant. We went to high school together. Plus he doesn’t make me nervous
and anxious the way Dr. Bennet does.” Oh no, Nash made me nervous and anxious in an entirely different
way that had all my bits and pieces reminding me I was a girl and he was a boy.
She clicked her tongue at me. “I think it has more to do with the type of guy you think you can get. It
ties back into that whole you not being Bennet’s type. Well, you are his type and so much more than you
give yourself credit for. You don’t have to settle for a guy with a ring through his nose.”
I wanted to argue that I liked the ring in his nose, it made his too-pretty face more masculine, but she
kept going.
“Promise me, Saint. Promise that if Dr. Bennet asks you out, you’ll accept and stop doubting yourself.
Please, as your friend, I need you to agree to do it.”
I didn’t have the heart or the correct words to try and explain to her that Nash was a far larger obstacle
to me getting to a place of confidence and self-worth than any gorgeous and successful doctor could ever
be. But because I admired her, wanted to keep her favor, I numbly nodded.
“Fine, Sunny, I promise.”
She squealed a little and gave me a one-armed hug.
“Great. The other guy looks like all kinds of trouble.”
I shook my head and shoved the card Nash had handed me in the front pocket of my jeans. Now I only
had the weekend and the first part of next week to not talk myself out of going with him.
“You have no idea.”
He did look like trouble, but he also looked interesting and beautiful and I still wanted to know what the
rest of that tattoo that covered so much of him looked like. I was telling her good-bye, wishing her luck
with the rest of the shift because the roads were awful and cars were all over the place, when Dr. Bennet
came around the corner. I saw Sunny’s eyes light up and I wanted to kick myself for not leaving five
seconds earlier. He walked over to us, all handsome and confident, and I felt a rock of dread settle in my
stomach. If he asked me out right in front of Sunny, there was no way I was going to wiggle my way out of
it. I had promised.
He really was good-looking. He could easily play the role of handsome physician on any prime-time TV
show. I think the thing that took away from his appeal was that he totally knew he was good-looking and
acted like that entitled him to things, and to people.
“Well, hello, ladies. Sunny, I need you in room 313B. Saint, are you just leaving?”
I opened my mouth and then closed it. I just blinked at him like an owl for a full minute before Sunny
interjected, “It’s her day off. I keep telling her that she needs a break from this place. Don’t you agree?”
He chuckled and it was deep and pleasing, but it made me wince. What was wrong with me? I cleared
my throat.
“I had a few errands to run and this was my last stop. It’s nice to see you, Dr. Bennet.”
Awesome. That sounded pretty normal and socially acceptable. He laughed again and flashed
superstraight, superwhite teeth at me. Everything about him was just blindingly perfect, so why wasn’t my
heart tripping over itself the way it did when Nash’s odd-colored eyes landed on me?
“Andrew, call me Andrew. I would be happy to keep you occupied on your next day off, Saint. When
might that be?”
I wanted to groan and go find a gurney or a counter to crawl under. Sunny didn’t let me waffle an
excuse that I was always working, and it wasn’t fair that she was the one that did my schedule so she could
tell him with confidence:
“She’s off on New Year’s Eve since she’s working Christmas Day. Right, Saint?”
I knew she was just trying to help, but I was going to strangle her.
“I am, but if you already have something planned, I’m sure we can work out something later on.”
I balked when he reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. I almost flinched but just barely
contained the reaction. I really didn’t want this guy to put his hands on me. What was wrong with me?
“I would love to take you out on New Year’s Eve. Some friends of my friends are having a party, and I
would love it if you would be my date.”
I was going to have an embolism. I barely had enough confidence that I was going to survive an
evening with Nash and his friends, going to some swanky party on the arm of a doctor … I was going to
have a nervous breakdown. I wanted to say no, wanted to tell him I wasn’t interested, but Sunny was
watching me with undisguised glee. I shoved my fingers through my hair and reluctantly nodded.
“Sure, Doctor … I mean Andrew. That sounds lovely.” Only if
lovely
meant torturous and nightmarish.
His smile grew and he leaned over and gave me a buss on the cheek. This time I couldn’t help but
cringe away. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. He just handed me his card, much like Nash did, and told
me to give him a call. When he walked away I had no desire to stare after him and there was an unpleasant
taste in my mouth. I let out an
oof
when Sunny’s small frame slammed into mine as she gave me another
one-armed hug.
“Sooooo happy for you. You’re going to have the best time with him. I just know it.”
I looked at the plain white card in my hand. It had the hospital logo on it, and Bennet’s name and
contact information. It was boring. It was basic. It was exactly the opposite of the card Nash had handed me
a few minutes earlier. One was tucked safely away in my pocket, I could feel it there almost like it was
calling to me. The other I wanted to chuck in the trash. Too bad Sunny would never forgive me if I set the
plain white one sailing.
“We’ll see.” I didn’t have high hopes for either venture, but I would force myself to go through with
both of them. One out of fear of spending the holidays alone and something more I didn’t want to delve
into, the other just to keep my boss happy. Neither was a great reason to go on a date, but considering it was
me, it would just have to suffice.
I think I was more nervous than Rule. Someone had brought a flask of Crown Royal to help him calm
his nerves, but he kept waving it away and Rome wasn’t really drinking much anymore, so that left me,
Asa, Rowdy, and Jet to do the damage. Rome and I were the best men. The big guy was taking Cora down
the aisle, obviously, which left me with Ayden. I was teasing Jet mercilessly about it because I had seen her
in one of the pretty, pale blue gowns Shaw had picked out and there was no question she looked beyond
good. It was fun but left me wide open for him to poke at the fact that I had rolled into the venue with
Saint. I wasn’t the type of guy who brought a date to an event like this, and considering the guest list for the
wedding consisted of maybe fifty people at most, there was no missing her and the questioning looks
coming from every direction.
The venue was dramatic and unique. It was set high over the city skyline, and you could see the lights
and winter landscape of the Rocky Mountains for miles and miles. Shaw wanted everything to look pale
and cool; she said she wanted it to feel like being in the center of a blizzard. Anyone who knew the soon-to-
be-married couple knew that the bride had a serious infatuation with Rule’s superpale, icy-colored eyes.
Clearly, it was what the entire wedding theme was built around. Rome and I had on matching black pants
and button-up shirts, with ties that were the same color as Ayden and Cora’s dresses. Rule had the same
thing on, only he was wearing a black jacket over his with a pinstripe pattern running through it. We looked
badass, way better than typical wedding finery, and I couldn’t believe how steady my best friend seemed. I
never thought he was going to settle down and now it seemed like the only thing in the world he wanted to
do. I was a little envious, which surprised the hell out of me.
“So the nurse?” Jet gave me a look and handed me the flask. I grunted at him and took a swig of the
burning, amber liquid.
“She doesn’t like me very much. I’m trying to change her mind about it.”
Rome was fidgeting with his tie and texting Cora back and forth. The closer she got to the due date, the
more paranoid he got about her well-being. I think he would’ve kept her glued to his side or tied to a bed if
the little spitfire would’ve allowed it.
“She showed up with you. She can’t dislike you that much.”
Yeah, she had showed up, but she kinda looked like she was going to be sick or like she was sucking on
a lemon the entire ride over. Not that she hadn’t looked gorgeous even with the unease clear on her pretty
face. It was the first time I had seen her in anything other than her work wear, and man, could she rock a
little black dress and sky-high heels like a pro. It was simple, understated, but with all that spectacular hair
and flawless skin, she looked regal and elegant in a way a lot of young women couldn’t pull off nowadays.
She was a classic. Kind of like my car, and I had a feeling her ride would be just as nice if she ever let me
get that far.
She wouldn’t let me pick her up, had insisted on meeting me at my place. I had almost had to literally
twist her arm to get her to agree to actually ride downtown with me, and after I’d won that argument, she
had spoken maybe five words to me since. I deposited her with Phil, who had just looked at me knowingly
and given her a smile. He was holding up pretty well, all things considered, and there was no way he was
going to miss seeing Rule tie the knot.
Rule and Shaw were doing things really informal. There weren’t going to be any sappy speeches, no
first dance, just a quick ceremony, dinner with everyone they loved, and then Rule was taking her to New
Orleans for a week for their honeymoon so they could spend New Year’s Eve partying it up on Bourbon
Street. That is, if they managed to leave the hotel room. Knowing my best friend, I doubted it. Personally I
was stoked that they weren’t dragging it out. They didn’t need pomp and circumstance to make the love
between them official.
“She showed up with me under duress.” I grinned at him. “I don’t really get her.”
Asa chuckled and flicked his golden hair out of his eyes. “But you want to? Get her, I mean.”
I grunted again. “Did you see her? Of course I want to, but she’s throwing out some pretty strong ‘hell
no’ signals. I’m not interested in pushing my luck.” That wasn’t entirely true. I wanted to push and push,
not that I thought it would get me anywhere. I kind of dug the mystery to all of it. She always had me
guessing.
I’m sure the conversation would have kept going, but Rule’s dad stuck his head in the room where we
were all gathered and gave his son a nod and a grin.
“The girls are ready to get this show on the road. I sure am proud of you boys.”
Rule nodded and I saw his chest expand and release. The rest of the guys pounded him on the back,
leaving just the three of us in the wedding party behind.
“You good?”
Rome clapped his brother on the shoulder.
“I’m fucking great.”
We all chuckled and I gave him a fist bump.
“You are fucking great, and so is she, so this is gonna rule.”
He lifted his pierced eyebrow at the pun and I grinned at him. We were tight for a reason.
“Let’s do this. Let’s get you married.” I was surprised that there was some pretty thick emotion working
in my voice.
Rome fiddled with his tie some more. I guess when you had a neck like a fullback, ties weren’t very
comfortable.
He looked at Rule and asked, “Did Shaw’s mom show?”
Rule shook his head. “Nope. I called her and told her what I thought about the entire situation and
promptly got told to go to hell. Shaw seems okay with it. Her dad is here with a chick that looks like she’s
maybe eighteen at the most. He wanted to walk Casper down the aisle, but she told him no. She’s having
Dad do it.”
That made sense to me. The Archers had always been Shaw’s real family. Like Rome had told Rule
when he was thinking about proposing, giving her his last name was just a formality.
We lingered at the back of the room while Rule took his waiting mom’s arm and made his way to where
the ordained officiant waited. Fittingly enough, Brite Walker, Rome’s mentor and an ex-marine, was an