Maid to Love (Man Maid Book 3) (5 page)

Jess looked legitimately uncomfortable with the idea of trying to help Courtney through her grief. Ian had never lost a child, but he had experienced painful loss—a loss of his innocence when he was thrust into life, into adulthood, well before he should have been.

Having been raised by adoring, insanely rich parents, Jess probably couldn’t relate as well as he could to the kind of devastation and loss that Courtney was feeling. Jess’s admission to that fact came in the form of imploring blue eyes that normally made him laugh but now had him sliding down the slope of concession. Courtney would need someone…and he wanted to be the one to listen.

“We’re not tight enough yet that she’d be okay with waking up to me in her house. At least stay the night. I’ll be over bright and early in the morning so you can get to work on time,” he finally agreed.

When Ian’s alarm went off the next morning, he felt like he hadn’t slept at all. Memories—and doubts—ate him alive. Painting the nursery for the little guy…had it been too much activity for Courtney? Was the miscarriage the result of something he had done? Upsetting her so badly when she’d interviewed him, maybe? The rational side of him knew Dr. Franklin was right, sometimes it just wasn’t meant to be, but the uncertainty of why it had happened still bothered him.

After showering and getting dressed he headed into the kitchen to indulge in one of the few unhealthy habits he’d picked up from Rusty—drinking coffee. Unable to afford rent by himself after Seth and Ronnie moved out of the apartment they’d shared, Ian had been staying in Rusty’s spare bedroom. Rusty drank coffee all day long. Perhaps it was the aroma or the little boost of energy it gave him, but Ian was following in Rusty’s footsteps.

He froze at the sight of Rusty standing in the dark, staring out the little window over the sink. Feeling around for the light switch, Ian felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up when he heard Rusty whisper, “Don’t move another inch, Sergeant.”

Ian’s blood froze. His body was transported to another time, in another country, when those words had saved his life. Though he realized Rusty was probably messing with him and didn’t grasp how those words might still affect him, it didn’t stop the anger that went through him. Yeah, he’d fucked up that day but that was a long time ago.

“Not funny and not cool,
sarge
,” he said and flipped on the light.

As his eyes adjusted, Ian caught a quick glimpse of Rusty’s face before the older man turned away. Fear and guilt were etched in his features, leaving deeper grooves than wrinkles ever could.

What was that all about? Some chicken-shit part of Ian just couldn’t ask. It was still hard for him to think about…. So instead he crossed the room, away from Rusty, and started the coffee.

“You done with all this fighting bullshit then? Ronnie and Seth said you skipped out on your workout with them again last evening,” Rusty finally said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Had Rusty been sleepwalking?
He acted like he hadn’t just said something incredibly wrong.

Deciding to ignore Rusty’s strange behavior, Ian said, “It’s not that. I know I promised I’d call the next time but…Courtney lost her baby yesterday.”

Rusty’s hand rested between Ian’s shoulder blades. “I’m real sorry to hear that, man. You do what you need to do, and I’ll worry about Ronnie and Seth.”

“Jess wants me to help Courtney for a few days until she’s back on her feet but…”

“But what?”

“But I’m not sure what I can do to help, or that I’ll really be any help at all. The only things I have are these big ears that are good for listening, but she’s a psychologist. She probably has other psychologist friends she could talk to. I’ve got nothing to offer someone like her,” Ian replied.

“What about your medicine bag?” Rusty asked.

There were few secrets between him, Seth, Ronnie and Rusty. Grouping grown men together in situations where they faced life and death every day meant that nothing any of them owned, or no interest any of them had or no issue any of them were going through, was sacred.

Growing up, there were few good influences in his childhood, but an older neighbor in the apartment above where Ian and his mother stayed had been one of them. That old Vietnam vet had been the only consistent person in Ian’s life from an early age all the way through high school.

A wealth of knowledge, a ready boot in his ass when necessary and a safe haven when one was needed were all the old man had to offer, but it had been enough to keep an overgrown kid out of jail and out of trouble. Mr. Yazzi had an old medicine bag that held handwritten recipes, notes, vials of herbs, oils and scents to treat anything from physical pain to mental instability to emotional health. The bag had been passed down for generations, and Mr. Yazzi’s lessons on how to use the contents were the only real education Ian received as a child. It was an heirloom, mysterious and cool to a teenage kid. It should have been in a museum, but instead it was with a non-relative who wasn’t even of Native American descent.

After Mr. Yazzi passed away, Ian had tried to find any living descendants to give the bag to. He’d come up empty-handed. Having spent hours poring over the recipes—looking at pictures of the different plants, trees, flowers and bushes that made up the necessary ingredients—and making the different potions, teas, oils and rubs, Ian had finally accepted that he was meant to have the bag. It was the only thing of value he owned. He’d stored it in a safe-deposit box when he’d been in the army, but the knowledge was engraved in his mind. It was part of who he was now.

The guys in his unit, including Rusty, Ronnie and Seth, often poked fun at him about his medicine bag, but it hadn’t taken long for his knowledge to be in demand. Headaches, muscle aches, burns and blisters brought soldier after soldier to Ian for help. Maybe Rusty was right. He didn’t have much to offer Courtney, but he did have the medicine bag.

Swapping his mug for a to-go cup, Ian poured himself some coffee, smiled at Rusty, grabbed the bag out of his closet and headed to Courtney’s house.

Chapter Five

Courtney had cried herself to sleep the night before and now lay awake facing the wall. As much as she wanted to deny that yesterday had happened, the uncomfortable cramping she still experienced from time to time told her otherwise. She should get up and take the antibiotics that April had prescribed, and maybe take something for the pain, but she couldn’t will herself to move. The cramping was like a physical manifestation of her emotional suffering.

When she heard a light knock on her bedroom door, she knew she should get up and let Jess know she was okay so as not to cause more worry but instead she simply said, “Come in.”

“I have some breakfast, your medicine and some tea,” she heard Ian say as he opened her bedroom door. He held a tray in one hand and he looked…lost. He slowly made his way into her bedroom and set the tray on her dresser. Picking up the pills in one hand and the coffee mug full of tea in the other, he carried them over and set them on her nightstand. He then went back for a bowl and sat down next to her. He waited as she slowly situated herself, and then he handed her the oatmeal.

It was hard to look at him. He radiated the same disappointment she was feeling over the miscarriage. Where she was normally good at talking to people about their very painful topics, when it came to her own life and her own experiences, she was tongue-tied. So she took the bowl and began eating the oatmeal without actually tasting it.

“Jess had to work today, so I thought I would hang out for a while,” he finally offered as an explanation for being in her house—
in her bedroom.

Unsure of what to say in response, she picked up the steaming cup of tea and took a sip. The flavor was unexpected, different from anything she’d ever tasted. “What is this?”

“Ginseng tea with honey.”

“I’ve never tried it.” She took another sip as she acclimated to the taste.

“It’s a tonic tea…good for the body and soul,” he replied quietly. “It’s holistic, natural, so don’t worry.”

“So you’re a health-conscious fighter?” she asked skeptically.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” he replied. After several minutes of awkward silence while she ate her oatmeal and sipped her tea he said, “I should have been giving you raspberry tea, not ice cream.”

Her eyes finally focused on his face. She saw pain and guilt so clearly it was like looking in a mirror. Releasing a sigh she placed the bowl and mug back on the nightstand. “It’s nothing you did or didn’t do, just like it’s nothing I did or didn’t do. Like you said, sometimes things just happen.”

“I know. I am just looking for a reason why that I’m never going to get, I guess. I really am sorry, Courtney,” he replied. He handed her the tea and her medicine then watched as she swallowed the pills and lay back.

He was bargaining—a stage of grief she recognized from working with her patients. The sag of his huge shoulders as he cleaned up her breakfast and quietly left her room, confirmed that he was grieving right along with her. It was unsettling to think anyone could understand how badly it hurt to lose the baby, especially a man, but somehow she sensed that the giant, non-aggressive fighter she heard downstairs in her kitchen understood.

Over the course of the next week, Ian was there, always willing to help. Somehow knowing he hurt right along with her made the whole thing
worse
. Where she wanted to forget about the experience and accept that maybe she wasn’t meant to be a mother, Ian wouldn’t let her forget. He asked her daily, sometimes twice a day, how she was feeling. Gone was the smiling and laughing Ian. In his place was a man whose emotions so closely mirrored her own that, even if she could forget how sad she felt, she only had to look at him to be reminded of it. It was sweet of him to help her, but now she needed to find a way to swallow down the emotional pain. The grief reflected in Ian’s eyes wasn’t assisting that process….

It was probably her grief mixed with a healthy dose of hormones, but his help wasn’t helping. By the end of the week she was ready to snap.

After he’d cleared away breakfast, done her dishes and mopped the kitchen floor he made his way to her office and knocked on the door to gain her attention.

“How are you feeling today?”

“I’m fine,” she replied in frustration. She needed space to deal with her emotions. Maybe he needed space, as well.

“I’m feeling much better and can take care of things from here on out, though I appreciate all you’ve done for me this past week,” she said a little more harshly than she should have.

His eyes changed color from the smoke that she liked to the ice that indicated he was uncomfortable or in this case…
hurt
. “Yeah, sure, okay,” he finally responded.

When he continued to look at her, she added, “You should go. I’m sure you have more important things you could be doing.”

“Being here for you is the only thing on my to-do list at the moment.”

“I’m fine. Really. I’ve got things I need to work on, and it’s hard to focus with you here.”

She cringed inside at the coldness she heard in her tone. Her harsh words had caused him even more pain—she almost took them back when she saw the look on his face. But then he turned away and left the room.

Within minutes he had cleared out of her house without another word. It was what she wanted…really it was. The wounded look on his face when he left kept her from calling him, though…even to apologize for being so rude. She’d hurt him badly. She deserved the backlash of regret she felt about what she’d said to him. He was such a compassionate man. He hadn’t deserved to take the brunt of her foul mood.

Physically she healed much faster than she expected. When her checkup with April went well, Courtney returned to work. April had suggested trying again for a baby if Courtney’s hormones remained steady for three months, but she had declined. It was hard to contemplate going through the process again. She even closed the door to the nursery so she no longer had to be reminded of her loss.

If only she could close the door on her thoughts of Ian. Courtney hadn’t heard from him since he left her house. She tried to convince herself it was for the best. Whenever she’d been around him, it felt as though she’d known him forever, but, in reality, that was not the case. They’d only been friends a short time.

Even so, her heart constricted with regret at the mere thought of him, at the memory of what she’d said to him. Some days she could swear she actually missed him.

He was so good with people—kind, compassionate and so easygoing that he put everyone at ease. Even her. Normally men picked up on her anxious vibe and ran the other way. Not Ian. He’d simply made jokes and pushed past any awkwardness, forcing her to accept him as her friend. In spending time with him, she’d become less jumpy around men in general.

Her thanks for his support had been to hurt him.

She tried not to think about that as her life returned to what it had been prior to being pregnant. In fact, by the time the one-month anniversary of her loss rolled around, the only reminder of the experience was that along with no longer being pregnant there was still no Ian. The ginseng tea and red-raspberry-leaf tea he had made for her were long gone; there was nothing left to indicate he’d been in her life at all.

Even being around Jess was hard. Inevitably, she would bring up Ian or, worse, the miscarriage. By the two-month anniversary of her loss, Courtney felt truly alone.

Once she went back to work and there were no more classes to attend together, no more late-night ice cream discussions about childbirth, there was nothing left between her and Ian. It wasn’t like they’d been dating. She didn’t date. And aside from his fascination with her pregnancy, they didn’t really know each other.

She just needed to keep reminding herself of that until she no longer thought of him at all.

  * * *

 One afternoon on the way to work, as Courtney crossed the street from the parking garage headed across campus, she noticed a man walking toward her. Something about his walk reminded her of Ian. When the man kept coming directly at her, making her extremely uneasy, she was forced to stop or collide with him.

Holding his hand out to her, the man said, “Ms. Wells. My name is Rusty Hawkins. You might remember me from Seth and Tori’s wedding. I’m also a friend of Sergeant Ian Hamilton. Do you have a minute?”

Fear hit her squarely in the stomach. The man, though familiar, was extremely intimidating, but there was honesty in his eyes that kept her from making a run for it. With her initial reservations about the man under control, her mind turned to what he had said.
Had something happened to Ian?
Why else would this man, Ian’s friend, hunt her down?

“Is he okay? Did something happen to Ian?” she asked anxiously.

“Nothing has happened to him, but is there somewhere we could go to talk?”

“Uh, I’m actually on my way to class.”

“I caught you at a bad time,” he said. “Listen, Jess Reynolds is stopping by my place later tonight. Could you come by around eight this evening? I would really appreciate it.”

If Jess was going to be there, Courtney wouldn’t be alone with the stern man standing before her. It would have to be less uncomfortable and awkward than this. She would be done teaching by seven-thirty. Plus she knew if she didn’t find out what was going on with Ian, she would never be able to sleep tonight.

“Sure. I suppose I can do that,” she finally responded.

Taking a business card out of his wallet, he handed it to her. The card advertised the Man Maid cleaning company. Now she recognized the man’s name. He was Ian’s boss. Rusty’s address and phone number were already written neatly on the back. He nodded at her and then turned and walked away without another word.

Her evening class seemed to take forever. Only as she headed from campus to her car did she realize she was walking faster than normal. Curiosity, mixed with a shot of worry and a pinch of excitement, were a potent concoction after weeks of nothing more than misery and heartbreak.

As a professional she recognized her feelings for what they were. Somehow in the few short weeks she’d spent with Ian she’d grown to really like him—and not just as a friend. The promise of hearing something about him, anything, was what had her nearly sprinting for her car.

Was that possible? Could she really be interested in Ian?
In that way?

She didn’t have time to contemplate it further. She made it across town quickly and pulled up behind Jess’s car in the driveway of a small ranch-style home. A luxury sedan was parked alongside the curb. Courtney recognized the vehicle as Kayla Brown’s car, and she relaxed even more.

Courtney was greeted at the door by Rusty and Ronnie Brown’s dog, Sergeant Buck. Rusty ushered her inside and into the living room, which was separated into two functional spaces by a comfortable-looking couch. Jess and Kayla, along with Tori Lewis, were sitting at the dining table. Rusty offered Courtney the last available seat.

“All I know is that this has to stop, Jess. He shouldn’t be fighting right now. Whatever is going on with him needs to be resolved before he goes back in the ring,” Tori said.

“I don’t have much to offer by way of refreshments,” Rusty said to the group of women, interrupting Tori’s argument. “Beer, coffee or water is about it.”

“What’s in the cake box?” Jess asked, pointing to a box in the center of the table.

“Cupcakes, I think. Ian brought them home earlier,” Rusty replied.

Jess pulled the box closer. Without hesitation she opened the lid, peered inside and gasped in delight. Reaching into the box, she took out an oversize cupcake topped with a mountain of delicious-looking icing. She glanced around the table guiltily. “I’m sorry, I should have let you guys pick first, but red velvet is my favorite. There’s enough for us all to have one. I just really want this one.”

“Which one is Ian’s favorite?” Tori asked when Jess pushed the box toward her.

“Doesn’t matter. Until he starts hitting the gym again, he doesn’t need these anyhow,” Jess replied and then took a big bite of the cupcake with a contented sigh.

“He’s not working out anymore?” Courtney asked Jess as Rusty sat four coffee mugs on the table.

“I have to agree with Jess on that front,” Rusty interjected after going back to the kitchen and returning with a coffee pot. “He’s the one who got all of us guys working out and eating healthy. Now he’s the one ducking out. It’s starting to show, too.”

“So I’m doing him a favor,” Tori said before reaching into the box and selecting a cupcake.

“I probably shouldn’t, but…” Kayla eagerly looked into the box that Tori pushed over. Then she reached in and selected a cupcake of her own.

Rusty pulled the box over to Courtney. There was only one left. Looking up at Rusty, she said, “It’s the last one. You should take it if you are really so bent on not leaving
one
for Ian.”

“I promise, you are more deserving of this than I am,” Rusty replied, pulling out the last cupcake and handing it to her before heading to the kitchen with the now empty box. “What I’m bent on is Ian either being on the winning end of his next fight or getting out of the ring altogether,” he finished, throwing the box into a recycle bin and heading back over to the table.

“He lost a fight?” Courtney asked the group.

“Fights. He’s lost fights…plural,” Jess replied between bites of her cupcake. “And he has one tomorrow night that’s been booked for a while. He says he’s going….”

“The bad part is if you ask him what is going on with him, he suddenly has something important to do that can’t wait,” Tori said.

It was her fault.
Courtney felt it in her soul. This was because of her. Why else would Rusty have invited her here? Had what she said that day really hurt him so badly? Was Ian still feeling the sting of her words the way she did? Maybe she should drum up the courage to call him and apologize.

But he might see an apology from her as a sign that she was interested in him. Even if she was, she couldn’t allow him to think that a relationship with her was an option. Her unresolved fears in regard to the opposite sex were something she was forced to live with, but that didn’t mean she should subject someone else to her unhealthy issues. Especially someone like Ian who deserved more than a hot mess like her. He deserved a woman who could love him for his gentle heart, which was bigger than all his muscles combined.