Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Cash
“This place is … kinda quiet, huh?” My brother picks up his water bottle, takes a few swigs, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. My own water bottle’s empty, but I’m too comfortable to head inside for a refill. We just finished a workout at Spring Brook gym. Now we’re sprawled on lounge chairs in the courtyard. “Almost too quiet for a Saturday,” Cullen adds.
“That’s exactly why I like it.”
“And yet you can’t wait to leave.” Cullen’s mouth slants. “My baby brother wants to abandon the state, leave us all behind, lonely and weeping.” He says this like a statement, not a question, which is good because the answer isn’t simple. It’s my former life I want to escape. The Serendipity is fine.
In fact, it’s more than fine.
The pulse of life surrounding this place makes it unlike anywhere else I’ve ever been. I imagine the people who came and went here before me. The stories they’d tell if they were still around.
Their hopes and dreams.
This property used to belong to a college or something, and the inside still has that look about it, with all the high ceilings and fancy crown moldings. There’s an actual library off the lobby, and a parlor. Old-timey mailboxes. The kind of stuff you’d expect to find in a dorm from last century.
The exterior’s pretty cool too. It’s mostly red brick, except for the part at the top made out of some kind of sculpted concrete.
What really sold me on The Serendipity, though, is exactly where we are now. I love the courtyard. The whole space is crawling with plants, bushes, and vines I can’t name to save my life. There’s a full-sized pool and a three-tiered fountain. The water’s spring fed, and rumors abound about this place and its special powers. Me? I’m a believer in medicine. Not magic. But the trickling fountain sure is soothing after a long day’s work.
“Well, I’m here now,” I say with a shrug. “That’s what matters. The future’s the future. The past is the past.” I let out a chuckle. “Deep thoughts for a Saturday.”
“Speaking of the past …” Cullen stretches out his legs, the midday sun glinting down on us. “You’re probably not gonna like what I have to tell you, but Lauren heard something through the grapevine.”
“Then I’ve got a fabulous solution to your predicament.” I offer him a smirk. “Just don’t say whatever it is I don’t want to hear.”
“Well, someone’s gotta do it. We all drew straws, and …”
“Let me guess.” I quirk a brow. “You got the short stick?”
“Hey, now.” Cullen sets his bottle on the table between our two chairs. “No cracks about the size of my stick, or I’ll tell the press about how the great Cash Briggs slept with a teddy bear until he was?—”
“That story just makes me more relatable. And anyway, no one’s interested in reporting on me these days.”
We both fall silent for a moment, but it’s true. Those articles stopped awhile ago. It’s been four years since the injury. Four years since my fiancée left. Four years since a team of surgeons pieced me and my spine back together.
While everyone else was busy taking bets on whether I’d walk again, those doctors gave me my life back. Well. Not so much my love life. But the rest of me is way better off now.
“So … Daphne is getting a divorce,” Cullen says, breaking the stretch of silence.
Speaking of being better off.
“Heh.” I huff out a breath, searching my gut for a reaction, and find nothing but emptiness there. “Good for her husband. The guy must be smarter than I thought.”
“Yeah.” Cullen guffaws. “You really dodged a bullet with that one.”
“I sure did.” Bullet. Broken spine. Same difference.
“Anyway, I just wanted to warn you, in case she has second thoughts and comes knocking on your door again.” Cullen pauses for a beat. “In other words, gird your loins.” He shoves his sunglasses up until they’re propped above his brow.
“Pretty sure my loins are safe,” I say. “I’m not famous enough for Daphne. Not anymore.”
“But you are single,” he points out. “And Lauren and I—all of us—are thinking … if you were in a relationship?—”
“Let me stop you right there.” I survey our surroundings to be sure no one’s in earshot. The last thing I need is for Nori Sinclair to overhear this conversation. The woman is actively dating—and a little too attractive for a guy like me, who plans to stay unattached.
“I’m all good, Brother. Don’t you worry about me.”
“We just want you to be happy, man.”
“I am happy,” I grunt. “My brand of happy might look different than yours, but believe me, I’ve moved on.” And thanks to Daphne, I know what to avoid now. In other words, I won’t get my heart broken .
Again.
“Right.” Cullen frowns. “If you’re so over the past, why are you still clinging to the no-women act?”
“Hold on.” I throw a hand up. “I’ve gone on dates.”
“Half-hearted efforts at best. How long, exactly, has it been since you had an actual relationship?”
“None of your business.”
“So, four years, then.” He furrows his brow. “It’s time to get back on that horse.”
“First of all, women aren’t horses. And now’s the worst possible time for me to get involved with anybody.”
“Why? Because of work? I know you’re committed, and I respect that. But Powell MedTech can’t be the sole focus of your life.”
My eyes flash. “When Alex jumped ship, I promised Jason I could handle our territory on my own. I don’t want a new partner. And if I have any hope of a transfer …”
“There’s more to life than work, Cash.”
“Tell that to the patients on the operating table.”
“You aren’t the surgeon,” Cullen quips. “No one dies if you aren’t in the OR.”
“Maybe not, but the doctors count on me to be there. I know them. I know my equipment. I can anticipate pivots in the middle of a surgery. When I’m not there and the doctor needs to change course, things don’t always go well. And we’re talking about people’s spines, Cull. Mobility versus paralysis. No one knows that better than me.” My jaw ticks. “What I do means a whole lot more than playing ball.”
“I know that.”
“Yeah? I wish Dad did.” I pull down my brow. “But I get that it’s not easy for him. What happened to me was hard on everyone.”
“It wasn’t hard on me, actually.” An edge to Cullen’s mouth lifts. “I’m prettier than ever. ”
I reach out and punch his shoulder. “A legend in your own mind, huh?”
“Always, Brother. Always.” He looks up to the sky for a moment, squinting at the sun. “In Dad’s mind, your entire relationship is based on something that’s no longer a part of your life. He’s just struggling to find common ground.”
I drag a hand over my face, the weekend stubble prickly under my palm. “I still love baseball,” I say. “And I’m grateful for everything he did for me. Mom too. But they moved mountains to support a career that’s not mine anymore.” I snatch up Cullen’s bottle and drain the rest of his water. “Which is why this place—my current territory—can’t be my end game.”
“Why not?”
My chest tightens at the question.
Yeah, Cash. Why not?
Maybe after chasing the big leagues most of my life, I feel inadequate, settling down in a town more famous for its water than any sports team. Also, living and working this close to where I played, I still get people who recognize me. And I can’t stand the double takes.
Hey. You’re that third baseman from the Black-Caps …
Correction: I was that third baseman.
“Whoa.” Cullen suddenly straightens, and his sunglasses clunk down onto his nose. “Potential lady-friend, dead ahead.” I follow his line of sight across the courtyard. Nori Sinclair’s there, passing under the farthest arch. Her dark hair is loose around her shoulders. She’s got on cargo pants. A denim jacket. Red tank top.
Don’t think about her thong, man.
“Hello?” Cullen calls out. He waves at her, but Nori’s already moving past the corridor. He turns to me. “Who was that? You holding out on me, Brother? ”
“No.” I shift my jaw, which feels suddenly tight. “She’s just another resident.”
Real smooth, Cash .
“That’s not what your face says.” Cullen whips off his sunglasses. “And you wouldn’t look like that now if you hadn’t already clocked her. There’s something going on there.”
“There isn’t,” I insist. “I already told you, I don’t have time for relationships. And I’m not in the market for anything casual.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Cullen smirks. “So you keep saying.”
“Listen.” I frown. “If you promise to stop bugging me about dating, I promise not to tell Lauren how interested you are in some random woman who lives on my floor.”
“Nice try.” Cullen snickers. “First of all, I’m only interested in her for you, man. Also, I love my wife. Lauren is the moon of my life, and I’m not just saying that because we watched Game of Thrones last night. And C, you’re telling me the brunette in the red tank top actually lives on your floor?”
“She lives on my floor, yes. But we never see each other.”
“Never? Dude. You moved in, like, two months ago.”
“We must have opposite work hours.” I shrug. “I know nothing about her.”
This isn’t entirely true, though.
I know Nori stops to say hi to Steve, the building manager, even when she’s in a hurry. I know she lights up when she’s around her friends—the redhead and the one with the black hair. I know she doesn’t like escargot. I know she smiles even when her date’s being an idiot. I know the color her cheeks turn when she’s embarrassed. And I know her full name is Eleanor.
But I’m not going to tell Cullen any of this. Or about the invitation I found to that singles potluck thing. Because Nori’s definitely looking for someone.
And I’m definitely not someone .
“Anyway,” I say, ready to put an end to his line of dating inquiry, “I’ve gotta shower and get to the hospital.”
“But it’s Saturday.”
“And I have cases on weekends sometimes. And in the middle of the night sometimes. And first thing in the morning sometimes. And?—”
“You’re telling me you have a case this afternoon?”
“Not today.” I clear my throat. “But FedEx dropped off some replacement sets this morning. I gotta get them catalogued and over to Springs Memorial to be sterilized for Monday.”
“Can’t you hire a courier?”
Yeah, I can. And I do, sometimes. But Cullen doesn’t need to know that. I’ve already spent half a day with him, and I’m done being grilled about my relationship status.
Or lack thereof.
“Things go more smoothly when I’m there to handle contingencies personally.” I haul myself up off the chair. At least this is the whole truth.
“All right, all right.” Cullen leans back against the lounge chair. “Can I take a quick nap out here, then?”
“Sure.” I grab my empty water bottle. “Stay as long as you want.”
“I’ve got about an hour.” His lip twitches. “Then the moon of my life needs me to paint the nursery.”