My Sister's Boyfriend (The Trouble With Twins 1) (10 page)

"You're welcome. See you later, Matt," Brent said to the boy and hurried out of the room after the male nurse.

When he got outside the door, he rushed down the hall after Stephen. He turned the corner to see the sought-after nurse talking to Jennifer at the nurses’ station.

The peach-colored suit she wore left her pale complexion golden and her blue eyes intense. Her lips shone with a pale lip gloss that made her mouth look ripe and kissable. And the urge to taste her rocked him.

The memory of her in his kitchen fixing him dinner was a pleasant reminder of how she’d cared for him when he’d been so sick. Guilt rocked him, and he tried once again to push the thoughts aside.

He couldn’t think of Jennifer, but rather how many children would benefit from the auction.

She laughed at something the nurse said, sending trails of awareness down his spine. He loved the way she laughed. Yet he responded with a visceral reaction, which meant absolutely nothing, he told himself, except that his body responded to beautiful women. A typical male reaction that he chose not to explore.

So what was Jennifer doing with Stephen? The guy had a reputation for dating half the female staff. A surge of jealousy swept through Brent, and he frowned at the unexpected feelings. He had no reason to feel this way.

She glanced at Brent and gave him a brilliant smile that sent his pulse racing. Another visceral reaction, nothing more.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Moulton."

"Good afternoon, Miss Riley."

Jennifer’s cell phone vibrated and she glanced down at the raucous noisemaker. “Excuse me. I need to take this.”

She walked over to the desk, leaving Brent and Stephen alone. He felt bad for not being honest with Jennifer, but he had every intention of winning this challenge. He needed to show Jennifer that this bachelor auction was a viable way to raise money. Yet he also felt a twinge of guilt at blatantly lying to her—until he thought of the children the money could help.

"Stephen, I'm trying to find out how many guys here in the hospital would participate in a bachelor auction for charity."

The nurse looked at him oddly. "A bachelor auction?"

"Yeah, you know, where women bid on a date with you. You go out with whoever wins the bid and the donated money will be used for the new pediatrics ward."

Stephen shook his head. "You’re actually recruiting bachelors?”

“Yes,” he replied tersely.

“I would have thought that Miss Riley would be setting up the charity events, not you, doc."

"She is, but she didn't like my idea. Said it was barbaric. But we need to raise two million dollars for this project, and I know we can make money with guys like you signing up. You know how badly this hospital needs a new pediatrics wing."

For a moment the male nurse stared at him as if he were crazy. "Yeah, we do need a new pediatrics wing, but I’m not willing to sell my soul for it. The latest gossip on the rumor mill is that you're hot for this woman." He paused. "Let me give you a piece of advice, Doctor Moulton. She isn't going to like you one bit for doing this behind her back. In fact, she's going to hate you. Give it up or lose the woman."

Brent frowned. He knew the man was right. She would hate him for doing this, but the hospital needed the money. The new wing would stand the test of time while relationships never lasted forever.

"I can’t. I think we could earn a hundred thousand dollars, especially if I can get a few celebrities to participate."

"Then for your sake I hope you didn't have any interest in Miss Riley, because when she finds out about your bachelor auction, she's going to cut you loose like stink bait."

Brent shrugged and tried to act nonchalant. "When have you seen me with a woman for very long?"

Stephen shook his head and glanced at Jennifer and then returned his gaze to Brent. "I'd take that woman over a bachelor auction any day. I’d find a way to work with her to achieve what I wanted."

Oh no, working with Jennifer would be way too dangerous. “So are you turning me down?”

The nurse gazed at Jennifer as she walked towards them. “Yes, I am.”

Jennifer walked up, a frown creasing her forehead. "I thought you were talking about a patient."

Stephen shook his head and then faced Jennifer. "We were, but we're finished now."

"Did I overhear the words ‘bachelor auction,’ or am I just being paranoid?"

Brent glanced at Stephen. "I was telling Stephen how we discussed holding a bachelor auction, but you vetoed the idea."

"It's barbaric, right up there with beauty pageants. Maybe a golf or tennis tournament?" Jennifer suggested. "Don't you agree, Stephen?"

Stephen gave Brent a pointed look. "Not a bad suggestion, but I really suck at golf."

"Even more reason to hold a tournament. It would be something I could compete against you in and win," Jennifer teased the nurse.

“There would be no competition. I’d let you win any day.”

Jennifer blushed. “Stephen. No wonder you’re considered the hottest catch in the hospital. You know how to make a girl feel good.”

“If it doesn’t feel good…there’s no reason to do it,” the nurse replied, his voice smooth.

The nurse was out-and-out flirting with Jennifer right in front of him. It shouldn’t matter but it did, and that rankled him even more than the nurse turning him down and suggesting that he give up the bachelor auction.

Stephen gave a wry grin in Brent’s direction and then turned to Jennifer. “Let me know how I can volunteer to help you raise money for the new pediatrics wing.”

“Thank you, Stephen. I’ll remember that.” Jennifer glanced at her watch. “Excuse me, I have a meeting I need to attend. See you guys later."

She turned and walked down the hall, leaving Brent and Stephen with a clear view of her nicely rounded derriere as it swayed with her walk.

"Well, well, Doctor Moulton, I’d say you were crazy to take a bachelor auction over that.”

As Brent watched Jennifer turn the corner out of sight, he couldn't help but think Stephen was right. Yet she was a tempting morsel that he could not become involved with no matter how attracted he was to her. And once she learned of the bachelor auction, it would be a moot point anyway. The children of Tyler deserved good health care, and that had to remain his focus.

 #

The windshield wipers screeched in time with the music on the radio as Jennifer's Grand Prix sliced through the standing water on the road. Fingers of lightning trailed across the evening sky, lighting up the dark road that led from the hospital to the main highway. She'd worked late into the evening firming up the plans for the silent auction.

Overall, everything seemed to be coming together, and the auction was packed with goods for people to bid on. Her committees seemed ready, and Barclay's, a local restaurant, agreed to cater the event and had even donated the food.

A truck passed her, sending a spray of water over the top of her car and blinding her from seeing the road.

Ahead hazard lights flashed dimly on a car stalled on the shoulder of the road. She slowed further to keep from splashing the vehicle. The car, a red Z3 BMW, sat with its driver fighting the wind and the rain to manually put the top up.

Oh my God! She hit the brakes, recognizing Brent.

Chapter Six

The darkness couldn’t hide the rigid set of Brent’s jaw as the wind ripped the canvas from his hands. He dropped the torn fabric, resignation in his stance.

The sight was comical yet heart wrenching, and she didn't know whether to laugh or cry for him. He looked pathetic and furious at the same time.

Nervously she honked the horn and he glanced back at her, the headlights reflecting a thunderous expression on his handsome face until he recognized her.

She hit the electric window button, sending the glass down, and stuck her head out. Rain pelted her face. "Come get in my car."

He splashed his way to her, a determined step in his stride. He halted at the driver's door. "I'm soaking wet. And I'd be lousy company."

She smiled. "I understand. But you look like a lightning rod fighting that canopy. Not to mention you just got over being sick. Get in.”

He made a low, growling noise. "All right, but I'm warning you, my mood is testy at best."

"I think I can handle your mood," she said, wondering at her sanity as she handed him a towel she kept in the backseat pocket. Yet she couldn't leave him. "How long before the tow truck arrives?"

"Two hours. I told the guy by that time, I'd have an expensive fish tank instead of a car."

He opened the door to the backseat and slid in. "I'll sit in the back. That way I won't ruin your front seats."

She shifted around in the front seat and tried to face him. "What happened?"

"Who knows? I thought it was the battery, but another car tried to jumpstart me and that didn't help. I had the top down. When I saw the clouds building, I pulled over to put the top up. The engine never came on again. The top was halfway up when the power choose that moment to die. I hit the release button, but with this wind, I could never raise the top and secure it. Now it has a permanent sunroof."

He cursed and shook his head. "I love that car, and she's getting soaked."

"That's a shame. I liked that car too." She paused for a moment trying to find something to cheer him. "So
she's
getting soaked?"

"Yeah, she is."

"Why do men call their automobiles a she? Why not a he?"

The darkness of the car enveloped them, but her eyes could still make out his frustration. "Because like women, cars can be temperamental."

Changing his mood would be a challenge.

"It's an automobile. It has no personality," she commented.

"Even machines have their own personality. Their own little quirks. Women do, too," he challenged.

"I agree. I have a few quirks. I like Fudgesicles. I love thunderstorms and rain, and sometimes I even like to put barbeque sauce on potato salad, but most men I've met have their quirks as well."

"Yes, but that's different."

"Naturally," she said sarcastically, thinking this conversation was certainly not the titillating exchange she'd hoped for. Though she was still contemplating seducing Dr. Moulton, maybe tonight was not the time to make that decision.

Silence filled the car as they watched the rain.

Finally she heard him mumble. "My insurance agent is never going to believe this one."

"I'm glad I came along," she said, noticing the windows were beginning to fog. Maybe by losing sight of the vehicle, his mind could be diverted to a more interesting topic, a more sensual one, like oil changes and tire pressure. After all they seemed to be stuck in a car-conversation warp.

"Look, if you need to leave, I'll be all right," he said with a shiver.

"Right. You were sitting there furious, soaking wet and now you're shivering." She opened the driver's door and climbed out into the rain.

"What are you doing?" he called. "Get in here before
you
get drenched."

"I'm getting you a blanket." It wasn't a lie. She carried a blanket in the trunk, and, well, now she had the perfect excuse to climb in the backseat with him. Talk about irony. Of all places for the two of them to be together—another backseat. And this time with her contemplating seduction.

Well…maybe not. An angry car fanatic just didn’t flip her switch, but she couldn’t leave him out in the rain and take the chance he’d get sick again.

Rain slashed her as she hurried to the trunk and opened it. Quickly she grabbed the spare blanket and slammed the lid shut. She splashed back around the car to the rear passenger's door.

She opened the door and slid into the backseat. Now he’d be opposite her when they spoke. She didn't like sitting in front of him, unable to read the expressions on his face. Yet being in the backseat of a car with him replayed all sorts of memories.

"Here. Doctor's orders. Put this around you," she said draping the blanket around his shoulders. "I only wish I had some plastic we could put over your car."

"It's soaked already," he said with a sigh, clutching the blanket to him. Lightning wove an erratic tapestry across the night sky, and a resounding boom of thunder caused her to jump.

They sat in the dark, him fuming, while she tried to think of some way to change the atmosphere.

"Remember that movie where the newscaster stuck his head out the window and started yelling at the absurdness of life," Jennifer mentioned, hoping he would relax.

"Yeah, why?"

"I bet in that moment, he released enough stress that his body felt instant relief," she said, knowing Brent would never try it.

She'd mentioned the movie scene hoping to make him laugh and ease his stress. Yet he sat there staring at her like she was not only stupid, but crazy as well.

"Are you suggesting I stick my head out this window in the rain and scream something asinine?"

"Nah. I knew you'd never do it. And I'm right, you won't," she challenged.

He stared at her, his left brow raised slightly. "It'd be pretty stupid to stick my head out in the rain."

"And doctors never do anything stupid," she retorted.

"Oh come on, if you knew me better you'd know I do zany things all the time. Hell, if we weren't waiting for a tow truck, I'd take off my clothes and run naked in the rain. But my beloved car is getting ruined," he responded, raising his voice.

"It's not my fault," she answered, her voice matching his irritated tone. "Tell the heavens you're not happy about your car getting baptized. I'm just trying to be a Good Samaritan and keep you from getting fried by lightning."

For a moment she thought she'd said too much as he regarded her, his eyes drawn together in a frown, the silence crackling with animosity.

With obvious frustration, she watched him reach over and touch the electric window button. The glass whirred down just enough that he could get his head out the window.

"Enough already!" he shouted. "Turn off the damn faucets and quit raining on my car! You've trapped me with a loony woman who's tired of my complaining. Knock off the waterworks," he yelled, cracking up with laughter at the end of the sentence as he pulled his head back in the car.