One Night With The Army Doc

* * *

“What are your next steps?” Jake asked once they’d reached a secluded corner of the hall.

The words had emerged more harshly than he’d intended, given Dr. Flynn’s slight wince, but he couldn’t seem to help it. Bad enough that she’d walked around that accident scene looking like some Disney princess come to life—all big blue eyes and lush blond hair—making him itch to hold and protect her. The tightness in his chest intensified, though his frustration was directed more toward himself than anyone else. Even worse that the first woman he’d felt attracted to since Kellie’s departure was the media star Dr. Dave had invited to collaborate on Bobby’s case.

Irony at its finest, folks.

Trust wasn’t something Jake gave freely. He’d been burned too badly in the past. The truth was, he had a hard time believing in anyone these days, except his Army buddies and his tight-knit circle of friends. Intimacy required vulnerability, and Jake didn’t do vulnerable anymore. Besides, he was a successful trauma surgeon. With his crazy schedules and on-call nightmares it was difficult to meet people, let alone have any kind of life outside his profession.

That was the excuse he was going with anyway.

And maybe Molly Flynn was the best at what she did—if Dr. Dave was to be believed. That didn’t excuse her impassioned speech about her sterling integrity—which, crazily enough, had only increased his foolish awareness of her as a woman. All he’d been able to concentrate on when she’d talked was her sparkling azure eyes and soft pink lips. God help him, he was in trouble here. Because she was Bobby’s specialist and a TV sensation.

The last time he’d dealt with the press—after his commendation—he’d gotten way more than his fifteen minutes of fame. Worse, the glare of media attention had only intensified after his relationship with Kellie had fallen apart, with reporters poking and prodding into his wreck of a personal life like vultures at a roadside kill.

The last thing Jake wanted now was to delve into that shark-infested cesspool again, but he couldn’t leave Bobby without an advisor in his corner. The guy had risked his own life to save Jake—literally. No way would he turn his back on him, no matter how uncomfortable the situation, and releases be damned.

During his time in Afghanistan he’d spent hours on the front lines, patching up men and women and ally civilians who’d given their all for their country. He’d enlisted initially for the experience, and to uphold the family legacy—his father had served as a Special Operations Pilot during Vietnam. But six years with the Seventy-Fifth Ranger Regiment had made his fellow soldiers Jake’s surrogate family, his brothers and sisters. With them, he’d found a tribe of kindred spirits all addicted to danger and valor.

Day in and day out he’d vowed to protect every one of them with his life, if needed. The time had come to make good on his promise.

Rock—meet proverbial hard place.

“I’ve ordered a chest CT to rule out CSS,” Dr. Flynn said, jarring Jake from his thoughts. “If you’ll excuse me...”

“Wait.” He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, doing his best to ignore the heat of her body wrapping around him, beckoning him closer. “I think we got started on the wrong foot.”

“Yes, I think we did,” Molly said, her gaze glittering with obvious irritation.

She wasn’t going to make this easy. Then again, neither was he.

“Churg-Strauss Syndrome is a severe conclusion to jump to so quickly, isn’t it?” he asked, puzzled.

Dr. Flynn sighed, the rise and fall of her chest causing the front of her T-shirt to hug her small curves. Not that he was looking. Nope. Definitely not looking.

“It’s a remote possibility, yes, but it would explain all his symptoms. And I like to be thorough. Satisfied now, Dr. Ryder?”

Not by a long shot, sweetheart.

Sudden images of them tangled in his sheets, her long silky hair splayed around him, swamped Jake’s exhausted mind. He backed away, alarmed. He’d just met her, for goodness’ sake. Must be the lack of sleep. Had to be.

“Keep me posted on the results.” Jake handed Bobby’s file back to her, then headed for the elevators. “If you don’t, I know where to find you.”

The brief flare of awareness in her eyes made his own pulse kick higher. Apparently he wasn’t the only one affected by this weird connection between them. Good thing she’d be on the first plane out of here as soon as Bobby had recovered.

All Jake wanted was an empty bed and peace and quiet. Unfortunately he still had about an hour of documentation to finish and a few patients either to admit or discharge before he was off duty for forty-eight blissful hours. Hours when he wouldn’t have to see Dr. Flynn or deal with the odd blaze of emotions she stirred inside him, making him want to both kiss her and throttle her in equal measures.

It was crazy. And then there was that slight yearning that crept into her expression sometimes, like when they’d been standing in the hallway discussing the case—a hesitation that called to his inner protector. Dangerous, that, since it threatened those precious walls he’d built—the ones meant to keep his heart from getting torn out and stomped on again.

Honestly, it had been so long since he’d had a significant other he couldn’t remember what it was like. During the last few months before Kellie had left him things had been so strained they’d just been going through the motions. Even so, the last thing he’d expected had been her accepting a network job in New York City without even discussing it with him. Blindsided didn’t begin to cover how he’d felt at the time. How he still felt, in some ways.

Eighteen months had passed and it still hacked Jake off whenever he remembered. He’d thought they had something good together—something real, something lasting.

He guessed that just went to show what an idiot he was when it came to love.

Good thing he was brilliant in his career. Saving lives was what he did, who he was. Since his fiancée’s abrupt departure Jake had thrown himself into saving his patients, into making their lives better. It helped him forget about the loneliness, the doubts. Doubts that if he hadn’t been enough for Kellie, why should he believe he’d ever be enough for anyone else?

One more reason to stick with short-term flings.

No muss, no fuss, no commitment. No chance for heartbreak and disappointment.

Yeah, perhaps if circumstances had been different, and he and Molly had met at some bar on a lonely night, they might’ve shared more than a medical case. Jake might’ve let her get a glimpse of the man locked behind those staunch barriers...might’ve let that instant connection between them evolve into something more.

But not now. Now he’d consult on Bobby’s case, be his advocate. That was all.

The elevator dinged and Jake climbed on board, ignoring the niggle of regret that bored into his chest.

Once he reached the first floor, he headed to his office near the ER and the inbox full of patient files awaiting his attention.

Yawning, he took a seat and grabbed the top chart, scanning the lab reports and papers inside before making his notations. Work kept him busy and sane. Work also kept him distracted. The constant hustle and bustle was part of the reason he spent so much time here. The other part was the fact that he didn’t have much going on outside of this place.

Determined to stay on track, Jake worked his way through the stack of charts until they were finished, then grabbed his keys and did a final check on the condition of his patients at the nurses’ station. Once that was taken care of for the night, Jake headed home.

He climbed behind the wheel of his truck and cranked the engine, squeezing his tired eyes shut. Bobby’s words during that firefight in Kandahar were ringing in his head like a clarion call.

“We’ll make it, bud...”

And they would No matter what trials and temptations Dr. Molly Flynn might pose.

CHAPTER THREE (#u47fe7316-68b2-5470-925c-cae52fee2d24)

“JUST PUT YOUR arm around it!” Rob yelled to Molly from behind a swath of thick rope. “Pretend it’s that hot doc at the hospital.”

She gave her cameraman a peeved stare. Had her attraction to Jake Ryder been that apparent? If Rob and Neal’s smirks were any indication then, yes, it had. Ugh. She usually kept a tight lid on her emotions. One more casualty of her jet lag and post-break-up-from-Brian funk.

Fabulous.

Exhaling loudly, Molly did her best to snuggle up to the world’s largest broccoli spear—weighing in at an astonishing thirty-nine pounds—and flashed a TV-perfect fake smile for the camera. The thing smelled like dirt and towered above her, its fanned floret casting ominous shadows. She’d read that Alaska was famous for its abnormally large produce, and here she was, within breathing distance of the proof.

“Perfect!” Rob gave her a thumbs-up while Neal texted on his phone.

Remarkably, they seemed to have good cell service out here—better than she’d had on her drive in from the airport the night before.

“I want to grab a corn dog before we head to the next location. Mol, you want anything?”

She shook her head. They’d set out this morning to capture some of the local flavor before her case took precedence. Bright and early, they’d packed up her Range Rover to explore all the area had to offer. After stopping at a diner for breakfast, and taking some exterior shots at the must-see spots in Anchorage—the modern curved sculptures outside the Z.J. Loussac Public Library, the gorgeous Native American exhibits at Rasmuson Center, the rustic quaintness of the Oscar Anderson House Museum, the city’s oldest residence—they’d driven forty minutes north to the small town of Palmer and the Alaska State Fair.

She released the giant cruciferous vegetable and scanned the vendors there, selling everything from pretzels to enormous ice cream cones. The air smelled of sweet popped corn and deep-fried dough. Rob tottered off to get his corn dog and Neal linked arms with Molly, leading her down a path designated as “The Purple Trail” to buy something called a Doughnut Burger.