Chapter 5
B en had just finished his evening run on the treadmill when his phone chimed with a call, in Vanessa’s ringtone. Hopping off the machine, he mopped his brow with the hem of his T-shirt and swiped to answer the call.
“It’s after six. Why are you still in the office?”
“Hello to you, too. And there’ve been a hundred times I could’ve asked you the same thing.” The “until recently” was implied in her tone.
“You should go home. Get some dinner.” Ben strode into the kitchen, filled a glass of water, and drained it in a couple of gulps.
“I will soon. I was catching up on some patient paperwork. But I had to call you and say, nice work on the flowers. We got several phone calls about them today.”
Ben set down the glass. “Did they like them?”
“Of course they liked them. Everyone likes flowers. It was a good idea you had.”
“Thanks.”
“No substitute for seeing you in person, of course.” And now she’d gotten to the real reason for her call.
“Of course.” Ben kept his tone casual. “That’s why I called Cameron and had him set up some in-office appointments for me.”
“Really?” Vanessa’s voice rose with excitement. “That’s great news, Ben.”
“Yes, really.” He swallowed. “By next Monday, I’ll be back, at least part time.”
He’d instructed Cameron to book him for one or two appointments in the mornings, not the full day. He might not be ready for that yet.
“This is wonderful news. And … you’re sure everything’s okay?” A hint of uncertainty crept into her tone.
“Everything’s fine, like I told you. I’m ready to get back to the office.” He was absolutely not ready.
“Well. It’ll be great to have you back.”
“I’ll see you next week.”
Ben clicked off the call and paced back into his living room. He stood halfway between the kitchen and the stairs, studying the shelves holding his rock collection. All the walks he’d gone on with Leah, looking for sparkly stones. All the times he’d stopped mid-run to pick up a piece of quartz she’d like. His little sister had always had a weakness for things that glittered, and he’d always taken care of his sister.
The one-year anniversary of her death was only a few weeks away now, and he owed it to her memory to pull himself together.
So he’d taken the step of calling Cameron, officially committing himself to going back to work in person. He’d also booked his plane tickets to Chicago, clicking the purchase button before he had time to back out. He would go on that trip. Even though he’d only left his home once in the last month.
Today’s van ride with Nell had been the first step. If he could go out once, he could do it again. Doubtless, increasing his anxiety medication had helped him avoid a panic attack today, but so had Nell’s steady, cheerful presence.
Still, he’d been right to call off any future outings with her. The danger of one of his patients spotting him was too great. He’d never survive the embarrassment if they figured out why he’d been absent, why he’d needed to send the flowers in the first place.
But the look on Nell’s face as they’d parted ate at him. She’d looked … shattered. He rubbed the center of his chest, where an ache had formed under his breastbone. She’d shared some of her past with him, with hints of painful memories.
Everything in him had wanted to ask her more, to have another chance to talk to her. And not because he wanted to help her as a therapist. He could see her becoming a friend, and friends listened to each other’s problems.
But he couldn’t involve her any more in his own issues. She didn’t need to see any more of his anxiety, and she definitely wasn’t responsible for hiding him from his patients. She wasn’t even supposed to have him in the van with her. It was better this way, with him handling his problems on his own.
If only he had proof he could leave the house by himself. Tomorrow, he’d make himself try it alone, even if it killed him.
But he didn’t get the chance to try it alone, because the next morning, at 8:30 sharp, Nell rang his doorbell.
He went to the door and pulled it open as if he’d been expecting her, which was ridiculous, because he hadn’t been. Still, his heart jumped under his tie at the sight of her, in her leggings, T-shirt, and ponytail, face free of makeup and looking up at him cautiously, as if she wasn’t sure of her welcome.
“Good morning.” His voice came out rough around the edges, and he cleared his throat.
“Good morning. I’m here to take you out again.” Her voice lifted on the last word, edging it into a question.
“I don’t … I told you yesterday—”
“Not for a delivery,” she rushed on. “It’s for a … pick-up? I have an errand to do before I start the flower deliveries today, and I thought you might want to come. For the practice. If that would work for you?”
“A pick-up?”
“It’s just some plants I need to relocate. But you wouldn’t have to see any of your patients, and you’d get out of the house again.” Her expression was open, pleading with him to agree, as if she really wanted him to come along.
“Why did you come back?”
Her gaze shifted to the side. “Because I promised I’d help you. In exchange for the commission.”
Of course. She still felt indebted to him. It had nothing to do with the strange, one-sided feeling of connection he’d developed yesterday, talking with her.
“I suppose I could come on an errand.”
Relief brightened her expression. “That’s great. Whenever you’re ready.”
Like yesterday, Ben allowed himself to be led to the van by one arm. Nell’s arm was bare below the elbow, and he could feel the heat of her skin through the cotton weave of his dress shirt. He was barely winded when they got into the vehicle.
“Better today,” she observed.
“I think so.”
“So it’s good I came back.” The words came out tentative, as if she was unsure she’d done the right thing. And he knew that about her now, that she wasn’t sure of herself, of her own strengths.
“Yes. It’s a good thing you came back.”
The smile she beamed at him made his chest hurt.
“This drive will be a bit longer,” she said. “About fifteen minutes to the hardware store, and then I’ll drop you back at home.”
“The flower shop buys plants from the hardware store?”
“They’re not for the shop. They’re … You’ll see.”
They drove in silence for a couple of minutes before she spoke again, seeming uncertain how to start.
“Yesterday, what you said to me …”
“I want to apologize. I pried too much into your personal life, and maybe I shouldn’t have.”
Nell shook her head. “I’m not sorry you asked about it. What you said … It meant a lot. And that’s part of why I had to come back again today. How did you know the right thing to say?”
Ben shifted around on the seat. She’d been honest with him, and he could do the same.
“I could say it’s because it’s my job. That I do therapy sessions all day. But the truth is, we have a few things in common.”
Nell glanced at him in surprise, silently encouraging him to go on.
“You lost your mom, and I lost my little sister a year ago. Leah.”
Her mouth turned down. “I’m so sorry.”
“Well. You were talking about losing your mom, and how it set you adrift, or made you question a lot of things in your life. And I think … I’ve probably been going through something similar.”
“Tell me about her. If you want to. Sometimes it helps.”
Ben gazed steadily out the passenger window. He’d tell her this, and hope speaking the words wasn’t too much for him right now, out here on this bright street.
“Leah was born with a genetic condition. Prader-Willi syndrome. She had intellectual disabilities as well as physical ones, and she lived in a residential facility as an adult, where they helped her out. I used to visit her all the time, and we’d go on walks at least three times a week. She was … light. Happy all the time. She had a way of making me pull my head out of my ass and be in the moment.”
“It sounds like you had a great relationship.”
“We were close. I helped take care of her a lot when we were growing up. She was only thirty-two when she died. She caught a respiratory virus most people would have fought off, but her body was weaker to start with.”
He cleared his throat, which had tightened up. “Anyway. I guess I’m saying I understand your loss. And I wasn’t just playing therapist with you yesterday.”
“Thank you for telling me.” She reached out, as if she wanted to put her hand on top of his where it rested on the seat, but then she thought better of it and pulled away.
Strange, but he felt the ghost of what that contact might have felt like. He’d held her hand the first day they’d met.
She cleared her throat. “I thought a lot about what you said about me the other day.”
“If it was too much—”
“No, it was perfect. But it was a lot. You made me realize how much I’ve let … certain people in my life tell me things about myself. Things that maybe weren’t all true.”
“This is about your marriage.” He didn’t know why he was so sure of the fact.
She gave a sharp nod. “Yes. But I don’t want to talk about my ex.”
“But that’s why you don’t date.”
“That’s why. I can’t take a chance of a bad relationship again. I won’t do that to Marco.”
Or herself. She’d been hurt by someone, badly enough that she’d pushed everyone away. Ben’s hand balled into a fist on his thigh, but he kept his tone light as he answered.
“I don’t date much, either.”
Her brows rose in surprise. “Why not? I’d think a good-looking doctor would—” She snapped her mouth shut, as if realizing what she’d admitted. Nell thought he was good-looking.
“I guess I’ve always been different in that department. I have to get to know a woman before I feel any attraction at all. And I’ve been told I’m hard to get to know.”
A smile lifted the corner of her mouth. “You are kind of reserved.”
“That’s the word. Are we here?”
Nell had pulled the van into the large parking lot of a chain hardware store. She drove up to the curb, where rows of shriveled-up potted plants stood in neat rows.
“Yep. This is our pickup.”
“Nell. These plants are dead.”
She shot him a grin. “That’s what everyone thinks. But they’re not really.”
“So you pick up dead plants and … do what with them?”
“I take them home and fix them up. It’s fun. And the stores just give them away when they’re like this.”
“So this isn’t for the flower shop.”
“Oh, no. It’s a hobby.”
“And you’re probably not supposed to have these in the florist van, either.” He couldn’t prevent a smile.
“Nope.” The sheer impish joy on her face lit up something inside his chest, kindling a spark of warmth there. “Wanna help me load them in the van? You can stand in the back and I’ll hand them up to you.”
“All right.”
Ben folded his long frame between the front bucket seats, slid past the short bench seat in the back, and waited. When Nell opened the rear double doors, bright sunlight flooded the open space at the back of the van. The sides of the vehicle were lined with shelves, where the bouquets to be delivered stood in buckets of water, with vases and pots contained behind the guard rails.
Nell hoisted up two plastic pots from the curb. “Just set them on the floor there.”
He took the thin, black plastic pots full of dried-out soil and spindly brown stems and lined them up in careful rows.
They worked for a few minutes in silence, Nell handing him two pots at a time. She’d take home at least a dozen dead plants today. And they did look dead.
They’d fallen into a rhythm working together, when several things assaulted his senses at once.
Nell was sweating lightly, a sheen of it on her forehead and dampening her pale blue T-shirt. The shadowy valley between her breasts was visible in the V-neck of the shirt from his vantage point above her. When she twisted her torso to retrieve more pots from the curb, the shirt rode higher in the back, highlighting the curve of her rear end.
Her hips were generous and soft, tapered in at the waist, and her neck was long and pale, which was right where he’d put his lips to taste the hollow of her throat—
He inhaled sharply, because no, that would not be happening. Of all the inappropriate times to develop a sudden awareness of her body. She’d told him more than once she didn’t date, and he would respect those boundaries.
“All done,” she said, brushing her hands off on her now very dusty leggings. She gave him a beaming smile, and another wash of heat went through him. “And you’ve been standing right by the van door for five minutes. That’s amazing.”
“I guess I have.” He hadn’t noticed the time pass. Apparently being slapped in the face by lust was a good distraction.
“I can take you back home now.”
“Yes. I have appointments this morning.”
Once they were buckled back in, Nell turned to him. “Come out with me again tomorrow. I’ll be delivering your flowers the rest of the week. You can hide out in the back seat of the van, and none of your patients will see you there. It’s just, I think this is helping you. Don’t you?”
She wanted to help him more than he wanted it himself. And he already knew he had a problem with saying no to her.
“I think you’re right. I’ll come with you again tomorrow. And I’ll ride in the back, like you said.”
The back seat would be better. Farther away from her. Ben kept his eyes on the road the whole way home. Because something long-dead had roared to life inside him, and oh God, tomorrow was going to be torture.