ONE
OLIVIA
“Who are you?”
And maybe to lose her plastic surgeon’s number.
That’s not me being petty, but being a doctor, I can spot a bad boob job a mile away.
I sigh. You still know how to pick them, Caleb.
While I admire the lingerie, it isn’t fit to wear to answer the door at seven in the morning. But this chick doesn’t look like things like propriety matter.
She wrinkles her nose and tilts her head.
I paste a smile on my face. “Is Caleb here?”
She crosses her arms, and the movement almost causes her to have a wardrobe malfunction. “Who’s askin’?”
“Olivia.”
“Are you trying to sell something?”
“No.” I draw out the word as I try to rein in my annoyance.
This bitch is about to get on my last nerve. And that nerve is extremely frayed.
“What the hell are you doing at the door?” A deep voice gets closer until finally my best friend comes into view.
I can’t help but smile when a feeling of peace settles over me.
His warm brown eyes—that always seem to twinkle—widen when he sees me, and his handsome face lights up with a grin. “Holy shit, Livvie. What are you doing here?”
There’s a swath of white bandage along the side of his torso, stark against his tanned chest. God, I really do hate that he’s a cop sometimes.
But now that I’ve seen that he’s all in one piece, I can finally breathe easy.
He shoulders silicone chick out of the way and wraps his arms around me in a bear hug.
His warmth comforts me, and I bury my face in his neck, his familiar scent flooding my senses. I close my eyes and settle in. Caleb’s hugs are the best.
God, I’ve missed him.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he echoes the words in my head, murmuring them against my hair. He pulls back and looks down at me. “I can’t believe you showed up.”
I shrug and grin back at him. “You’re my best friend and in need. What did you think I was going to do?”
We grin at each other until a throat clears behind him. He rolls his eyes, and I stifle a giggle before he turns to the scantily clad girl.
He gives her his best panty-dropping smile. The one I’ve seen him give hundreds of girls over the years. “Hey, Cindy—”
“Candy.”
“Right, Candy. Listen, you need to head out. How about I call you later?”
Her arms drop to her sides, and her eyes narrow, mouth twisted in a sneer. “Are you kidding me right now?”
“No, I’m not.”
“She’s not even your type, Caleb. She doesn’t wear makeup and her hair is so flat. You’re picking her over me?”
Caleb’s body tightens next to me and his lips flatten. “Yeah, I’m picking her over you,” he says, his voice cold as the arctic. “And I’ll pick her every single time. Now, get going.”
She stomps off like a five-year-old who didn’t get a new toy and comes back a moment later with a trench coat and heels in one hand, purse in the other. She glares at him and rolls her eyes at me as she passes us going out the door, heading to her car.
“Safe travels!” I call out when she yanks open her car door.
Caleb snort laughs, causing me to giggle, and ushers me inside.
I make a beeline for the kitchen. “First, coffee. I’ve been driving all night. Then you’re telling me what in the hell happened with this chase.”
He comes in behind me and leans against the counter, watching me with a smile on his face.
I drop a pod into the machine and press brew before turning back to him.
“What?” I ask when his brown-eyed stare goes on for several seconds.
He shrugs his broad shoulders, then winces in pain. “Ouch, damn it,” he mutters under his breath. “Just happy to see you.”
“Broken ribs?”
He shakes his head. “Just bruised, but this gash down the side makes it tough to move.”
The coffee finishes, and I pass him the cup before making my own. “Looks like I interrupted something.”
I ignore the burning in my belly thinking about the fact that Caleb might have been having sex as I knocked on the door.
It’s disturbing to think about.
What’s even more disturbing is the fact that I feel something akin to jealousy whipping through my veins.
Where the hell did that come from?
He frowns into his mug. “She showed up here just before you did. Said she was going to be a sexy candy stripper.”
“You mean striper?”
“No, I mean stripper.”
I shake my head. “When are you going to find a nice girl, Caleb?”
He looks at me for a moment and then sighs, taking a sip of his coffee.
“What was that?” I ask.
“What was what?”
“That sigh.”
He shakes his head, setting his cup on the counter beside him before crossing his arms over his chest. “So, what’s going on, Livvie? I love having you here and I’ve missed the fuck out of you. But it’s seven a.m. on a Friday morning and…hold on.” His eyes widen. “Did you say you drove all night?”
“Yep. Now, let me check your injuries for myself.” I move toward him, trying to deflect his questions.
My gaze and fingertips run over his bare chest, checking out his bruises and tiny cuts. It’s a clinical perusal of injuries.
Clinical? The drool on the corner of your lip would indicate otherwise.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not immune to how hot my best friend is, and I’ve seen him bare-chested before.
Hell, the entire internet has seen him sans shirt several times from his time when he played baseball and modeled athletic wear.
But it looks like he’s been working out since I last saw him shirtless a few years back.
And I don’t know what’s going on, but when my hand touches his warm skin, my uterus decides to throw a party, complete with confetti and pop music.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I’ll admit when my cousin Derek called me last night, telling me about his accident, the panic that gripped my heart was breathtaking and not in a good way.
I had all the worst-case scenarios running through my head.
My ER doctor trauma training was nowhere to be found.
All I could think about was how I couldn’t lose my best friend, the most important person to me.
Maybe it was because I was caught at a weak moment and vulnerable. Either way, I threw clothes in a suitcase and made the drive from Dallas to Cape Sands, Florida.
I had nothing stopping me. Everything I had in Dallas had been stolen from me in the hours before Derek called.
“Livvie?”
Caleb’s deep voice is husky and snags my attention. I look up at him and blink. “Huh?”
“What are you doing?”
His deep, velvety brown eyes search mine, and I swear I see something in them I’ve never seen from him before. It’s usually the look he reserves for other girls.
Girls he deems worthy enough to date or fuck.
Desire.
But that’s ridiculous.
Caleb has never looked at me like that and he wouldn’t start now. The man was hot as sin and used to having a harem of girls everywhere he goes.
The fact that he was somewhat of a celebrity sports figure before a career ending injury and was now the sheriff of the small beach resort town didn’t hurt either.
And me thinking about how close our mouths are is just the delirium of being up all night setting in.
I need sleep.
“Um…I-I need sleep.” I look down at where my hand strokes him like I’m petting a cat. I snatch my hand away and take a step back, crossing my arms over my chest. “Those bruises are going to ache for a while. And they did a good job on the stitches. I can change the dressing for you if you’d like.”
“That’s nice, Doc Emerson.” He pushes off the counter and closes the short distance between us, his stare intense, like he can see right through me.
“Now tell me why you’re here.”