Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
A few nights later, Ava sat across from her brother, Noah, in a worn vinyl booth at Hope’s Diner, the scent of grilled burgers and fresh coffee wrapping around her like a familiar embrace. They made it a point to meet for dinner every couple of weeks, no matter how chaotic their schedules became. Between her relentless shifts at Elizabethtown General and Noah’s long days as foreman at the ranch where he worked, time was a luxury, but they never let too much of it slip away. Ever since their parents had died when Ava was in junior high, it had been just the two of them—leaning on each other, looking out for each other.
She traced a finger over the laminated menu, not really reading it. It hadn’t changed in years, but the act of looking at it was comforting, a link to the past. Saturday nights at Hope’s Diner had been a tradition, their parents laughing over plates of meatloaf and spaghetti, their mother always stealing bites from their father’s plate.
Noah glanced at her over the top of his own menu, dark eyes too knowing. “Meatloaf or spaghetti?”
She smirked at the translation—mom or dad’s favorite.
“Meatloaf,” she admitted. “I can make spaghetti at home.”
He snorted. “No offense, but I’ve had your spaghetti. You should order it here.”
Ava gasped in mock offense and lobbed her balled-up straw wrapper at him. “Hey! It’s hard to screw up pasta and store-bought sauce.”
“Yet you somehow manage,” he teased, setting his menu down. “Maybe I should get you cooking lessons for your graduation.”
She rolled her eyes. “We don’t have a graduation. It’s just…done.”
Noah leaned back, studying her. “Have you heard any news? Are they offering you the position?”
Ava hesitated, her fingers tightening around her water glass. She debated telling him what Rachel had hinted at—that Dr. Ciponelli might think she wasn’t stable enough. But she knew Noah too well. He’d go full big brother mode, storming into the hospital demanding answers, and she really wasn’t in the mood for that tonight.
“I haven’t heard anything yet,” she said carefully. “But I worry that I’m not what they’re looking for.”
Noah frowned. “What does that mean?”
She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “It’s nothing. What’s been going on with you?”
He studied her for a beat, clearly debating whether to push, but then let it go. As he launched into updates about calving season and branding, Ava let his voice wash over her, trying not to wince at the memories. Long days of bringing food out to the ranch hands, the sharp scent of burning flesh from the branding, the desperate bawling of calves. She’d always hated those days. Then again, maybe they’d been good preparation for working in the ER. Blood, noise, chaos—it all blurred together after a while.
The waitress swung by to take their orders, and just as she left, Noah lifted a hand and waved across the diner.
“Reed! Over here.”
Ava stiffened, her stomach sinking.
She hadn’t fully recovered from their last encounter—his teasing, his relentless confidence, the way he seemed to see her in a way no one else did. She’d grown up around Reed Campbell; his older brother and Noah had been inseparable, and by default, Reed had been part of their orbit. But where Noah was steady and serious, Reed was all swagger and easy charm. His relentless energy had always rubbed her the wrong way—too much, too intense.
And lately, he’d been…everywhere.
Before she could form a protest, Reed was sliding into the booth beside her, his big body crowding her toward the wall. The heat of him pressed against her side, the solid muscle of his thigh brushing hers beneath the table. A wave of something sharp and unexpected flickered through her—a current that had nothing to do with irritation and everything to do with the way Reed smelled like fresh soap and leather, like something untamed.
“Hey, Noah.” His voice was warm, familiar. Then his gaze slid to her, slow and knowing. “Nice to see you outside of work, Doc.”
Ava swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat.
“I missed you the past couple of days,” Reed continued, casually draping an arm along the top of the booth. His fingertips brushed the back of her shoulder—barely there, but enough to make her skin prickle.
She forced a smile, ignoring the heat curling low in her stomach. “I’ve been off.”
He grinned, lazy and amused. “I noticed.” His voice dipped just enough to make her stomach tighten. “Thought you were gonna stop by the rec center on your day off.”
Noah barked out a laugh. “Ava? At the rec center? Rock climbing and stuff? Yeah, that’s not happening. I couldn’t even get her on a horse at the ranch.”
Ava shot her brother a glare. “That’s not the point. I had things to do at home.”
Reed arched a brow, his smirk deepening. “Like what?”
She narrowed her eyes. “None of your business. But for your information, I had to pack for a vacation and clean my house.”
Reed snorted. “Sounds a little like the old ‘I have to wash my hair’ excuse, right, Noah? If you didn’t wanna come, you could’ve just said so.”
Her jaw clenched. “I did say so, but you ignored me.”
Noah watched their exchange with open amusement, shaking his head. “Couldn’t hurt to go, Ava. You spend too much time wrapped up in work. Getting out more would be good for you.”
She sighed, exasperated. “Not likely. And I sure as hell wouldn’t be climbing a wall or riding a bike off a cliff. There has to be something safer.”
Reed let out a low chuckle, the sound rolling over her skin like a slow burn. He shifted closer—just enough that their knees knocked beneath the table, his voice dropping into something rougher, deeper.
“You can’t live your life safe, Ava. Take a risk. You’d be surprised how good it feels when your blood’s pumping, adrenaline surging through your veins. Makes you feel alive.”
Something in the way he said it—low and intimate, like he wasn’t just talking about rock climbing—sent a sharp thrill through her. She looked up, met his gaze, and her breath caught. His eyes weren’t just teasing anymore. There was something else there. Something heavier.
Noah, oblivious, laughed. “Good luck getting Ava to do anything physical. She’s more of a cerebral person.”
Ava tore her gaze away from Reed’s, her face hot. “You both are ridiculous,” she muttered, stabbing at her meatloaf with more force than necessary.
But beneath the table, where no one could see, Reed’s knee stayed pressed against hers. Solid. Warm. Unyielding.
And damn it, she was acutely, painfully aware of every inch of him.
R eed stood at the edge of the rock-climbing area, arms crossed, watching the group of boys gathered at the base of the wall. The excited chatter and scuffling of sneakers against the padded floor filled the air, blending with the occasional clang of carabiners and the low hum of voices from the rec center. Two of the kids were scaling one of the shorter walls, their faces screwed up in concentration as they reached for the brightly colored holds.
The rec center had different climbing walls for practice—some lower to allow kids to build confidence without needing to be belayed, while the higher ones required harnesses and experienced guidance. The thick foam mats below cushioned any falls, but Reed still kept a close eye on the kids. He knew firsthand how easy it was to misjudge a grip or push beyond your limits.
He and Kyle Wright, his EMT partner and one of his best friends, had run the boys through a quick lesson before letting them loose. Reed had grown up scrambling up real cliffs, gripping rough rock, feeling the scrape of sandstone against his palms. There had been no harnesses, no safety precautions—just a reckless need to conquer the next height to prove himself. Plenty of bruises, sprains, and a couple of broken bones had been his teachers. He didn’t want these kids following that same dangerous path, not without the proper skills first.
“Hey, Mikey! Glad to see you here. How’s the arm feeling?”
A wide grin split Mikey’s face as he held up the limb encased in a bright blue cast. “Great, but I wish I could be climbing.”
Reed clapped the kid on the shoulder, his grip firm, reassuring. “I get it, but you’ll be back in action soon enough. In the meantime, you can still learn a lot just by watching. You bring your brothers?”
Mikey nodded, jerking his chin toward the two younger boys who were shoving at each other near the crash mats. Reed recognized them immediately—carbon copies of Mikey, just in different stages of childhood chaos.
“Good,” Reed said. “Stick with me, and I’ll make sure you don’t miss out.” He introduced Mikey to one of the instructors in a harness, enlisting him to help with the belaying demo. The kid lit up at the chance to be involved, his frustration at being sidelined momentarily forgotten.
The next hour flew by in a blur of movement—kids scrambling up walls, hands reaching, feet slipping, and the occasional triumphant cheer when someone reached the top. By the time the session ended, the boys were sweaty, exhilarated, and practically vibrating with energy as they met their parents at the door, recounting their adventures with wide eyes and breathless excitement.
Reed and Kyle stayed behind, wiping down gear and checking the harnesses, making sure everything was in good condition for the next session. The routine work was soothing in a way, a mindless rhythm that let him process the day.
“Hey,” Kyle said, breaking the comfortable silence. “You got any plans for the weekend?”
Reed glanced up from coiling a rope, running through his mental calendar. “I don’t think so. We’re off, right?”
“Yeah.” Kyle hesitated, shifting his weight. “I was thinking it might be a good time for the bachelor party.”
Reed straightened. “What? I already had everything planned for a few weeks from now. Cabin, off-roading, hiking, climbing. You want me to see if I can move it up?”
Kyle ran a hand through his hair, avoiding Reed’s gaze. “Actually…I was thinking something different.”
Reed narrowed his eyes. “Like what?”
Kyle hesitated, then shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Just you and me. A weekend in Vegas. Some gambling, a couple of drinks, maybe a show.”
Reed frowned. “Vegas?” Kyle had never been the flashy city type. Hell, neither of them had. They were mountain boys through and through—backroads, bonfires, and whiskey under the stars, not neon lights and roulette tables.
“Where’s this coming from?” Reed asked. “If you wanted to change things up, you could’ve just said so. I wouldn’t have been mad.”
Kyle exhaled heavily and sat down on the bench, pulling out a bottle of water. He twisted the cap but didn’t take a sip. “It’s not that. It’s just…this wedding, man. It’s stressing us the hell out. Rachel’s family is a mess—divorces, step-parents, people who don’t want to sit at the same table. And my family’s not much better.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Every decision turns into a fight. It’s exhausting.”
Reed had heard snippets of those conversations when Kyle was on shift—frustrated phone calls with Rachel, half-mumbled complaints about seating arrangements and expectations. He hadn’t realized how bad it had gotten.
“Maybe you two should elope,” Reed joked. “Get it over with, dodge the whole circus.”
Kyle gave a hollow laugh. “Yeah. Maybe we should.”
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then Kyle shook his head and forced a grin. “So, Vegas. You in?”
Reed hesitated. “Just the two of us?”
Kyle nodded. “Noah can’t make it. Spring’s his busy season, and he was cool with it. Honestly, man, the big bachelor weekend was turning into a hassle. This? This is easy. No expectations. Just us, cutting loose for a couple of days.”
Reed considered it. He’d never been to Vegas, but he’d heard the stories. A guy was supposed to have at least one wild weekend before settling down, wasn’t he? Not that he was the one getting married.
Still, the idea was growing on him. A few days of no responsibilities, no schedules. Maybe even some fun.
His grin spread slowly. “Hell yeah. Let’s do it.” He clapped Kyle on the back. “Let’s get crazy before you get locked down for good.”
Kyle laughed, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Damn right.”
Reed leaned back against the climbing wall, feeling the anticipation settle into his bones. Vegas. Maybe it was exactly what they both needed.