Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
A va’s key turned in the lock, her shoulders already drooping with the kind of bone-deep exhaustion that came from a twelve-hour shift in the ED. Three cardiac arrests, a multi-victim car accident, and a seemingly endless stream of flu cases had left her mentally and physically drained. All she wanted was a hot shower, maybe some leftover takeout from the fridge, and her bed.
What she hadn’t expected was the smell of garlic and tomato sauce greeting her as she pushed open the door, or the soft jazz playing from the living room speakers. Reed’s house—their house now, she supposed—was warm and inviting in a way her apartment had never managed to be.
“In here,” Reed called from the kitchen. “Hope you’re hungry.”
She followed his voice, dropping her bag by the door and shrugging off her jacket. Reed stood at the kitchen island, opening a pizza box with the practiced efficiency he brought to everything. Two glasses of red wine already sat poured beside cloth napkins—an unexpectedly civilized touch.
“You didn’t have to do this,” she said, the automatic response of someone unaccustomed to being cared for.
Reed looked up, his smile tired but genuine. He was wearing faded jeans and a soft-looking Henley pushed up to the elbows, revealing the tattoo on his forearm—a stylized heartbeat line that she’d always been curious about but never asked after.
“I know. But I figured neither of us would feel like cooking after the day we had.” He nodded toward her wine glass. “Courtesy of my dad’s last visit. He always leaves a good bottle behind.”
Ava hesitated in the doorway. This felt dangerous somehow, too intimate, too much like a real marriage rather than their hastily constructed facade. She should thank him, take her food to her room, maintain the careful distance they’d established since she’d moved in.
Instead, she found herself asking, “Bad shift?”
“Three back-to-back calls, including a nursing home transfer that went sideways when the patient crashed in the ambulance.” Reed ran a hand through his hair, leaving it charmingly rumpled. “Sounds like you had a rough one too—Rachel mentioned the ED was slammed when we brought in the MVA.”
Ava accepted the wine glass he offered, their fingers brushing momentarily. “Understaffed and overcrowded, as usual. But we managed.” She took a sip, surprised by the rich, complex flavor. “This is good.”
“Like I said, my dad doesn’t mess around with wine.” Reed picked up the pizza box. “Living room? The game’s on if you want to watch, but we can put on something else.”
“Living room is fine,” she said, following him into the comfortable space with its oversized couch and surprisingly tasteful decor. For a bachelor pad, Reed’s home had always been unexpectedly welcoming—more so now that her books mingled with his on the shelves and her throw blanket draped over the armchair.
They settled on opposite ends of the couch, the pizza box open between them on the coffee table. The baseball game played with the volume low, neither of them particularly invested in the outcome but appreciative of the background noise.
Ava kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet under her, letting the first sip of wine begin to dissolve the day’s tension. “Thanks for this,” she said after her first slice. “I probably would have just had cereal standing over the sink.”
Reed chuckled. “Been there. The glamorous life of emergency services.”
“Exactly. All the adrenaline, none of the regular meals.”
The easy conversation surprised her. At work, their interactions had always been professional, but charged with an undercurrent of…something. Competition? Awareness? Whatever it was, it had made true relaxation impossible. But here, in the soft lamplight of his living room, with no patients or colleagues watching, she found herself unwinding in a way she hadn’t in weeks.
“So,” Reed said after they’d demolished half the pizza, “I realized something today.”
“What’s that?” Ava reached for her wine, feeling pleasantly warm and just slightly buzzed.
“We’ve known each other for years, work together regularly, and are now technically married, but I don’t actually know that much about you.”
Ava raised an eyebrow. “You know I’m a workaholic with control issues who somehow ended up in an impulsive Vegas wedding. That’s the highlight reel.”
He laughed, the sound rich and genuine. “Fair. But I mean the stuff in between. Where did you do your residency before coming back here? What made you choose emergency medicine? Did you always want to be a doctor?”
The questions were innocent enough, the kind of things a real husband might know. Ava found herself answering, sharing stories about her grueling residency in Chicago, the rotation in trauma that had convinced her emergency medicine was her calling, the childhood doctor who had treated her for pneumonia and sparked her interest in medicine. She avoided the real source of her interest in emergency medicine. Loathe to open that wound while she was tired and vulnerable.
“What about you?” she asked, surprised by her own curiosity. “You could have done anything with your EMT training. Why stay here? Why the rec center classes?”
Something shifted in Reed’s expression—a softening, a quiet pride. “The classes started as community service hours, actually. I got into some trouble my senior year—nothing serious, just teenage stupidity—and had to do community service. The rec center needed someone to teach rock climbing classes to the younger kids focusing on safety.”
“And you just kept going?”
He nodded, swirling the wine in his glass. “Those kids...some of them don’t have much. The rec center’s a safe place, you know? And teaching them how to do some of the more reckless activities, like bike tricks, rock climbing, and skateboarding—it gives them confidence, a place to go to practice, and lessens their injuries. Makes them feel capable.”
Ava studied him, seeing beyond the confident exterior to something deeper. “You really care about them.”
“Someone’s got to.” He shrugged, but there was nothing casual about the conviction in his voice. “After Tyler died, it became even more important to me.”
The name registered dimly in Ava’s memory—a shadow of grief, a funeral she hadn’t attended. “Tyler was your brother?”
Reed nodded, pain flickering across his features before he controlled it. “My older brother, by a couple of years. He was fourteen when he died—something stupid, really. He should have known better, but he loved to push the envelope, you know? He was climbing and decided to jump off the cliff into the lake. But we didn’t know the levels were lower that season because of the drought. A rock was just under the surface. Low enough where we couldn’t see it from the cliff and high enough where he couldn’t avoid it when he landed. He hit his head and was knocked out. Took us a while to realize he wasn’t messing around with us. By the time we dragged him out, he was gone. We didn’t know what to do. I ran for help while my other brother stayed. But it was too late.” He trailed off, the rest of the story clear to both of them as medical professionals.
“I’m so sorry,” Ava said softly. “I didn’t—I don’t remember much about it.”
“You wouldn’t. It happened about six months after your parents died, so you were dealing with your own grief.” Reed’s eyes met hers, understanding passing between them. “That’s why I started the safety classes. Tyler thought he was invincible, like most fourteen-year-old boys. If he hadn’t jumped, had followed proper safety protocols, he would be here today. We couldn’t have saved him, but we also didn’t know CPR or first aid, so we teach that to the kids, too.”
The pieces clicked into place—Reed’s dedication to teaching safety, his work as an EMT, his fierce protection of the teenagers who came to his classes. It wasn’t just a job or a hobby; it was a mission born from personal tragedy.
“Is that why you became an EMT?” she asked. “Because of Tyler?”
He nodded. “I couldn’t save him. But maybe I could save someone else’s brother, someone else’s son.” The admission hung in the air between them, raw and honest.
Ava found herself moving closer on the couch, drawn by the shared understanding of loss that few others could truly comprehend. “I get it,” she said quietly. “After my parents died, I became obsessed with saving people. Like somehow, if I saved enough patients, it would balance the scales.”
“Does it work?” The question was gentle, without judgment.
She shook her head. “No. But knowing that doesn’t stop me from trying.”
Reed’s hand found hers on the couch cushion between them, his fingers warm and strong as they curled around hers. “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we? Both trying to outrun ghosts by saving others.”
The touch sent warmth spreading up her arm, a comfort that went beyond the physical. How strange that in all the years they’d known each other, they’d never shared this fundamental truth that shaped them both.
“Tyler would be proud of you,” she said softly. “Of the lives you’ve saved, the kids you’ve taught.”
Something in Reed’s expression cracked open—vulnerability he rarely showed to anyone. “You think so?”
“I know so.” Without thinking, she reached up to touch his face, her palm against his cheek in a gesture of comfort that felt as natural as breathing.
He leaned into her touch, his eyes never leaving hers. The moment stretched between them, the pretense of their arrangement falling away to reveal something much more complicated, much more real.
Ava wasn’t sure who moved first—maybe they both did—but suddenly his lips were on hers, soft and questioning at first, then more insistent as she responded. His hand slid into her hair, cradling the back of her head as the kiss deepened, igniting something that had been smoldering beneath the surface of their interactions for years.
It was nothing like their drunken Vegas kisses, which existed in her memory as fragmented, hazy moments. This was crisp and clear and dangerously real—the solid warmth of him, the faint taste of wine on his lips, the small sound he made when she pressed closer.
She sank into the kiss, letting the stress of the day, of their lives, drift away, and let herself just feel. It had been so long since she let herself be carried away. Vegas had been an aberration for her. She had only had a couple of boyfriends before Reed, and none of them lit her blood on fire like this man. None of them made her want to throw caution to the wind and pull him closer, to rip off her clothes and feel his warm, hard body against hers.
Reality crashed back with startling force. This wasn’t their arrangement. This wasn’t pretend. This was real desire for a man to whom she was married to, but only in a technical sense, a man who was her brother’s best friend, her colleague, her temporary roommate in this elaborate charade.
Ava pulled away abruptly, her breathing uneven. “We can’t do this,” she said, the words sounding hollow even to her own ears.
Confusion and hurt flashed across Reed’s face, quickly masked by understanding. “Ava, I?—“
“It’s late. I should get some sleep.” She stood up, nearly knocking over her wineglass in her haste to create distance between them. “Thank you for dinner.”
She didn’t wait for his response, fleeing down the hall to the safety of her room—the guest room she’d carefully arranged with her belongings to maintain the illusion of their marriage while keeping appropriate boundaries.
But as she closed the door behind her, leaning against it with her heart hammering in her chest, Ava realized the most dangerous boundary had already been crossed. For a moment there, in the warmth of shared grief and unexpected connection, their marriage had felt real—and worse, she had wanted it to be.
R eed refused to give Ava any time or distance after their kiss. He let her flee that night, mostly because he wasn’t sure if he could let her go again. Her lips had been so soft under his. Her body so responsive. The taste of her, combined with the spices and garlic from the pizza and the rich taste of the red wine, was intoxicating, and he was ready for a bender.
But Ava wasn’t. Not yet. That didn’t mean he was going to give up or give her space. In fact, he was stepping up his campaign. Starting with their first dinner date. He considered taking her to the Southern Sizzle steakhouse, but that wouldn’t have the impact he was looking for. People needed to see them, accept them, as a couple. Besides, he sensed Ava would be even more uncomfortable in a fancy place than in something more familiar.
So, he settled on the Southern Comfort Diner, owned by Patsy MacCallan. She’d lord it over her sister, Julianne, that she had Reed and Ava in there first, since apparently there was a betting pool going on as to where Reed and Ava would have their first outing as a married couple, not that he would share that tidbit with Ava. She’d be horrified at being the object of gossip, where Reed just grinned and shrugged it off. Of course, she didn’t need to know people were also asking where Reed and Ava had been dating in their secret times. Their lie could quickly unravel with the amateur sleuths on the job if they didn’t give them something else to talk about.
Which was the other goal of the evening—whet the appetite of the voracious gossips and hopefully move on.
The Southern Comfort Diner’s neon sign cast a warm glow across Ava’s face as they pulled into the parking lot. Reed had spent an embarrassing amount of time planning this evening, right down to the casual “Hey, let’s grab dinner out tonight” delivery that had caught Ava off-guard enough that she’d agreed before realizing what she was doing.
“The diner?” Ava asked, eyeing the packed parking lot. Thursday was meatloaf night, which meant half the town would be crowded into the vinyl booths. “Are you sure about this?”
“Best comfort food in three counties,” Reed replied easily, though his heart was hammering against his ribs like he was seventeen again, taking Becky Thompson to the homecoming dance. “Besides, we’ve got to eat somewhere. Might as well be where the mac and cheese comes with a side of gossip.”
Ava’s fingers fidgeted with her wedding band—a nervous habit she’d developed over the past week. “I’d rather we not be the side dish du jour. There will be a lot of people we know.”
“That’s kind of the point, Doc.” He shut off the engine and turned to face her fully. “We’re supposed to be married. Married people go out to eat. They don’t hide in their house, pretending they don’t exist. And we have to face people, eventually. Better to do it on our terms.”
“We’re not hiding,” she protested, though the flush on her cheeks told him she knew exactly what they’d been doing—her retreating to her room each night, him giving her space while silently plotting ways to break down the walls she’d carefully constructed between them.
“Then let’s go eat some meatloaf and act like the newlyweds everyone thinks we are.” He smiled, not the cocky grin he used when teasing her at work, but something gentler. “Just dinner, Ava. I promise not to compromise your virtue in the diner booth.”
That earned him an eye roll, but also the hint of a smile. “My virtue isn’t the issue,” she muttered, but she reached for the door handle anyway.
Reed rounded the truck quickly to open her door, a gesture that earned him a raised eyebrow. “What? I have manners,” he said defensively.
“When it suits you,” she replied, but there was no real bite to her words.
The blast of warm air and the scent of fried onions and home-baked bread hit them as they entered the diner. Reed’s hand found the small of Ava’s back instinctively, guiding her through the crowded entrance. The contact, even through her light sweater, sent a jolt of awareness through him that he carefully masked.
Just as he’d anticipated, their entrance caused a ripple effect through the diner. Conversations paused, heads turned, and curious glances followed them as Patsy MacCallan bustled over, her round face wreathed in a delighted smile.
“Well, look who finally decided to grace us with their presence!” she exclaimed, loud enough to be heard over the general din. “The newlyweds themselves!”
Reed felt Ava stiffen beside him, but he squeezed her waist gently, a silent reminder to play along. “Hey, Patsy. Got room for two more?”
“For you two? Always.” Patsy winked conspiratorially. “I’ve got the perfect booth, right where everyone can see what a handsome couple you make.”
“Subtle,” Ava murmured under her breath as they followed Patsy through the crowded diner, nodding at familiar faces along the way.
“About as subtle as a freight train,” Reed agreed quietly, his lips close to her ear. “Just smile and remember, we’re madly in love.”
The look she shot him could have curdled milk, but to his surprise, she slipped her arm around his waist, leaning into him with practiced ease. “Like this, darling?” she asked sweetly, loud enough for nearby tables to hear.
Two could play at this game, apparently. Reed’s pulse kicked up a notch.
Patsy led them to a corner booth—not as centrally located as he’d expected, but within clear sight of most of the diner. The red vinyl seats were worn but clean, the tabletop gleaming under the vintage pendant light. And the tabletop jukebox actually worked at that booth.
“Meatloaf special for both of you?” Patsy asked, already scribbling on her pad.
“That sounds perfect,” Reed answered before Ava could protest. “And a sweet tea and a Diet Coke.”
“Coming right up!” Patsy bustled away, but not before patting Ava’s hand and stage-whispering, “You got yourself a good one, honey. Bout time someone tied him down.”
When they were relatively alone, Ava’s pleasant smile dropped a fraction. “You do realize we’re now the main feature in tonight’s entertainment, right?”
Reed shrugged, reaching across the table to take her hand. Her fingers tensed but didn’t pull away, mindful of their audience. “Better to give them something to see than to let them make up their own stories,” he said, tracing small circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. “Trust me, the speculation about our secret relationship was getting wild.”
Curiosity flickered in her eyes. “What kind of speculation?”
“Let’s just say there were theories involving supply closets at the hospital that would make even seasoned emergency personnel blush.” He grinned at her widening eyes. “Marcy in Dispatch is particularly creative.”
“Oh, God.” Ava covered her face with her free hand. “This is mortifying.”
“It’s a small town. People talk. Best to control the narrative.” He squeezed her fingers gently. “Besides, is having dinner with me really so terrible?”
Something in his tone must have betrayed more than he intended, because Ava’s expression softened, her eyes meeting his with unexpected directness. “No,” she admitted quietly. “It’s not terrible at all.”
The honesty in her voice caught him off guard, creating a warm flutter somewhere beneath his ribs. Before he could respond, their moment was interrupted by the arrival of their drinks, carried by Patsy’s teenage daughter, Lily.
“Hey, Mr. Campbell,” Lily greeted with the easy familiarity of a former student. “Hi, Dr. Spencer—I mean, Dr. Campbell now, right?”
“It’s Dr. Spencer-Campbell professionally,” Ava clarified with a warm smile.
“Wow, that’s a mouthful! Mom said you guys got married in Vegas?” Lily’s eyes sparkled with teenage curiosity. “Was it, like, super romantic?”
Reed watched Ava flounder for a moment before jumping in. “It was perfect,” he said, his eyes meeting Ava’s across the table. “Sometimes when you know, you just know.”
It wasn’t entirely a lie. Something had shifted between them that night they’d shared their grief over pizza and wine, something that felt dangerously close to knowing. The kiss that followed had only confirmed what part of him had suspected for longer than he cared to admit. Ava Spencer wasn’t just his best friend’s sister or his competent colleague. She was the woman who challenged him, frustrated him, and fascinated him in equal measure.
“That’s so romantic,” Lily sighed, setting down their drinks. “Mom said you’re coming to my graduation party next month, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Reed assured her, grateful for the change of subject. “Hard to believe you’re heading off to college already. Seems like just yesterday you were falling off your bike in my safety class.”
Lily groaned. “Please don’t tell that story again.”
“No promises.” Reed grinned as she retreated, then turned back to find Ava studying him with an odd expression. “What?”
“You know everyone in this town, don’t you?” she asked. “I mean really know them, not just their names or faces.”
Reed shrugged, suddenly self-conscious under her scrutiny. “I’ve lived here my whole life. Same as you.”
“Not the same,” she countered softly. “I kept to myself, focused on school, then left for college and med school. You...connected with people.”
The observation was surprisingly perceptive, touching on something Reed had never really articulated about the differences between them. “I guess I did,” he admitted. “This place, these people—they’re home. Always have been.”
Something flickered in Ava’s eyes—understanding, or maybe envy. Her own relationship with their hometown had always been more complicated, especially after her parents died. Reed wondered, not for the first time, if part of her had always been looking for an escape.
Their meatloaf arrived before he could pursue that thought, Patsy setting down plates piled high with comfort food. “On the house,” she declared. “Consider it a belated wedding present.”
“That’s very kind, but we couldn’t—” Ava began, but Patsy waved her off.
“Hush now. I’ve known this boy since he was stealing cookies from my kitchen counter.” She winked at Reed. “Besides, Jules will be green with envy that you came here first.”
As Patsy moved away, Reed explained, “Her sister owns The Southern Sizzler on Main Street. I almost chose that for tonight, but I thought you’d be more comfortable here. They’ve had a friendly rivalry going for decades.”
“And we’re part of it now?” Ava asked, cutting into her meatloaf.
“Everything in this town is connected,” Reed said, watching with satisfaction as she took her first bite and closed her eyes in appreciation. “Did I make the right choice?”
“Oh, yeah,” she agreed, momentarily forgetting her discomfort. “I’d forgotten how good Patsy’s meatloaf was.”
For the next twenty minutes, they ate in companionable silence, interrupted occasionally by well-wishers stopping by their table to congratulate them. Reed handled most of the interactions, smoothly fielding questions about their “whirlwind romance” while Ava smiled and nodded beside him. He noticed she was particularly good with the medical questions, especially from Mrs. Harmon, who never missed an opportunity to discuss her various ailments with any doctor unfortunate enough to cross her path.
“You’re good at this,” Reed observed after Mrs. Harmon finally moved on. “The doctor-patient thing, even off the clock.”
Ava shrugged, but he could tell she was pleased by the observation. “It’s part of the job. People need to feel heard.”
“It’s more than that,” he insisted. “You genuinely care. I’ve seen it in the ED too, the way you stay with patients even when Ciponelli’s breathing down your neck about throughput numbers.”
A shadow crossed her face at the mention of her boss. “Ciponelli thinks I’m too slow, too thorough.”
“Ciponelli is more worried about budget spreadsheets than patient outcomes,” Reed countered, surprising himself with the vehemence in his voice. “You’re a good doctor, Ava. The kind I’d want taking care of my family.”
She looked up, genuinely startled by his praise. “Thank you,” she said softly. “That means a lot, coming from you.”
“Why me specifically?”
Ava hesitated, pushing mashed potatoes around her plate. “Because you see everything,” she finally said. “In the ED, I mean. You see which doctors rush, which ones listen, which ones make mistakes. You’ve worked with all of us.”
Reed hadn’t expected that level of insight, or the vulnerability behind it. “I see you,” he said simply.
The words hung between them, weighted with more meaning than he’d intended. Ava’s cheeks flushed pink, her eyes dropping to her plate.
The moment was broken by a commotion at the entrance—loud voices and laughter that Reed recognized instantly. He looked up to see Noah and a couple of guys from the ranch filing into the diner.
“Oh, no,” Ava breathed, spotting her brother at the same moment.
Reed reached across the table, covering her hand with his. “It’s fine,” he assured her, though the tension in Noah’s shoulders when he spotted them suggested otherwise. “We’re married, remember? We’re allowed to have dinner together.”
Noah said something to his friends before making his way toward their booth, his expression carefully neutral. Reed felt Ava’s hand tense beneath his, but didn’t let go.
“Hey, guys,” Noah greeted, his casual tone belied by the tightness around his eyes. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Meatloaf night,” Reed replied easily, as if that explained everything. “Want to join us? We’re almost done, but?—”
“No, the guys are waiting.” Noah’s gaze flicked between them, lingering on their joined hands. “Just wanted to say hi.”
Ava found her voice. “How are you, Noah?”
The question seemed to catch him off guard, a flicker of something—hurt, maybe, or longing—crossing his face. “I’m good. Busy with the new calves. We’re moving the herd next week, so I’ll be scarce for a while.” He hesitated. “Maybe we can get together after that. The three of us.”
Reed felt a surge of hope at this olive branch. “We’d like that,” he said, glancing at Ava for confirmation.
She nodded, a tentative smile forming. “That would be nice.”
Noah seemed to relax slightly. “Good. Well...enjoy your dinner.”
As he walked away, Reed gave Ava’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “That’s progress,” he said quietly.
“Maybe,” she agreed, though worry still creased her brow. “I hate lying to him.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Reed promised, though he wasn’t entirely sure how. The lines between their fake marriage and something real were blurring more each day, at least for him. What had started as a drunken mistake had somehow evolved into...what, exactly? He wasn’t sure, but watching Ava’s quiet relief at this small reconciliation with her brother, he knew he’d do whatever it took to protect her, even from the consequences of their shared deception.
The rest of their meal passed pleasantly, the initial awkwardness fading as they settled into conversation about safer topics—hospital gossip, Reed’s latest safety class, a movie they’d both been wanting to see. By the time they finished dessert (Patsy’s famous apple cobbler, also “on the house”), Ava seemed genuinely relaxed, laughing at his stories and sharing a few of her own.
As they walked back to his truck, Reed took a chance and reached for her hand. To his surprise, she let him lace his fingers through hers, the spring air cool around them as they crossed the parking lot.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked, unlocking her door but not opening it yet, unwilling to break the moment.
Ava looked up at him, her expression thoughtful in the soft glow of the diner’s neon sign. “No,” she admitted. “It wasn’t bad at all.”
“Good enough for a second date?” He kept his tone light, but his heart was pounding as he waited for her answer.
She studied him for a long moment, something shifting in her eyes. “Is that what this was? A real date?”
Reed took a breath; deciding honesty was the only path forward. “I’d like it to be,” he said. “But it’s up to you.”
Ava didn’t answer immediately, her gaze dropping to their joined hands. Just when Reed thought she might pull away, she met his eyes again, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
“Maybe,” she said, the single word carrying more promise than he’d dared hope for. “Let’s see how this goes first.”
It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no either. Reed would take it. After all, he’d always been good at playing the long game—and Ava Spencer was definitely worth waiting for.