Baby, Drive South Page 20

  After hours of close quarters in the van, she was on edge, supremely aware of every inch of Porter’s big, muscular body pulling on hers. When he lowered himself to sit next to her on the loveseat and his knee brushed hers, it only made matters worse.

  Especially since Emily was eyeing them like a mother hawk.

  “Unsweetened for you, Nikki,” she said, handing over a cold glass. “And sweetened for you, Porter.”

  “Thank you,” Nikki said, then took a sip, hoping the cool drink would settle her nerves…and lower her body temperature.

  “Are you one of the brides, my dear?” Emily asked, her eyes wide with innocence.

  Nikki choked on her drink, then swallowed. “Brides?”

  “One of the brides who came to Sweetness looking for a husband?”

  Her tongue was paralyzed. Luckily Porter’s voice was still working.

  “Mom,” he chided, “the women who answered the ad weren’t looking for a husband…not all of them anyway.” He cleared his throat. “Dr. Salinger has been seeing patients and helping us to get our clinic underway. She’s been a huge asset to our efforts.”

  Emily beamed. “So you’re helping my boys rebuild Sweetness.” She looked wistful. “It’s such a special place. I made so many good memories there, and of course my wonderful Alton is buried there.” Her eyes sparkled with tears, then she angled her head. “When you’re ready, it’s a wonderful place to settle down and raise children.”

  Was Porter’s knee pressing harder into hers? Nikki gripped the glass tighter. “So I’ve been told.”

  “Uh, Mom,” Porter said, reaching into his shirt pocket to withdraw a ring box, “Nikki and I have a surprise for you.”

  Emily’s mouth rounded. “You’re engaged!” She clapped her hands. “I knew it. As soon as I saw the two of you together, I said to myself, ‘Now there’s a perfect couple!’”

  Nikki almost dropped her glass.

  “Mom—” Porter interrupted.

  “I must say, Porter, with your reputation for being such a ladies’ man, I didn’t think you’d ever settle down—”

  “Mom—”

  “And I certainly never dreamed you’d be the first of my boys to fall—”

  “Mom!”

  Emily blinked. “What?”

  “Nikki and I aren’t engaged.”

  Her brow crumpled as she glanced back and forth between them. “You’re not?”

  Nikki wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. She shook her head, unable to look at Porter.

  “No, we’re not.” Porter sighed. “Can I finish, please?”

  Emily picked up her tea and sipped. “Of course.”

  He hesitated and Nikki sensed that the moment had been ruined for him. When she glanced over to see his shoulders had fallen, she had the urge to help him smooth over the awkwardness. She instinctively put her hand on his knee.

  “Mrs. Armstrong, Porter asked me to accompany him today because while I was out exploring, I found something that belongs to you.”

  Emily frowned. “Something that belongs to me?”

  Porter opened the ring box and held it out to her. The second she realized what she was seeing, her brilliant blue eyes filled with tears. She set down her glass clumsily, and Nikki saved it from spilling. But she was glad for the distraction because she, too, was close to tears.

  “My lovely ring,” Mrs. Armstrong said in awe, taking the box. “I thought I’d never see it again.” She removed the gold filigree band. Nikki knew that Porter had asked Molly to clean it. It sparkled and gleamed as if it were brand-new. As Emily slid the ring onto her finger, Nikki imagined the woman was remembering her wedding day, when Porter’s father had first put it on her hand. The tears slid freely down her cheeks as she held it out to admire. “Alton had this ring made for me. You can’t know how much it means to me to have it back.” Then she wiped at her face and stood to hold out her arms to Nikki. “How can I ever thank you, my dear?”

  Caught off guard, Nikki stood and accepted the woman’s embrace. “No thanks necessary.” Emily squeezed her and patted her back and it felt so…good. Nikki glanced at Porter, who watched them with a curious expression.

  “Mom, you’re going to break her in two,” he admonished good-naturedly.

  Emily stepped back and laughed, still wiping her eyes. Then she leaned down to give Porter a hug, too. “This is the happiest day I’ve had since the storm. I can’t wait to get back home to Sweetness.”

  “Marcus and Kendall and I are looking forward to that day, too,” he said, then planted a kiss on her wet cheek with a loud smacking noise that left Emily giggling like a girl.

  Nikki watched the exchange with mixed emotions—unfamiliarity…disquiet…envy. Even when her mother had been alive, there had always been a clinical aspect to their relationship. Hugs were infrequent, and kisses, even less so. She’d never doubted her mother’s love, but had longed for pats and cuddles. She caught Porter’s eye and wanted to look away, afraid he would see everything she was feeling. But she couldn’t drag her gaze from his. After a few seconds, he gave her a wink, then squeezed his mother’s shoulders.

  “We have to go, Mom. Dr. Salinger was good enough to get me an appointment with a bigwig orthopedist, and I don’t want to be late.”

  “No, of course not,” his mother agreed, all aflutter.

  He pushed to his feet and gathered his crutches. Nikki stood, relieved to be leaving. She preceded him to the door where she was subjected to one more bear hug before Emily Armstrong would say goodbye.

  “I see the way he looks at you,” she whispered in Nikki’s ear.

  When Nikki pulled back, she could only smile at the woman’s motherly observation. Of course she was projecting what she wanted to see onto the situation. “I’m glad I had the chance to meet you, Mrs. Armstrong.”

  Emily scoffed. “You make it sound like we’ll never see each other again. But I’ll see you when I come to Sweetness, and you’re welcome here anytime.”

  Nikki felt Porter’s gaze on her. She wouldn’t be in Sweetness when Mrs. Armstrong moved back. She didn’t want to outright lie, so she just smiled. “Goodbye.”

  She walked to the van to unlock it and let mother and son have a private farewell. She took the opportunity to dial into her voice mail and scroll through her messages. Her pulse spiked when she realized most of the calls were from Darren…all hang ups, until the last one.

  “Nikki, hi…it’s me. I’d really like to talk to you about some things. Call me when you can…please. I hope you’re doing okay.”

  Just the sound of his voice sent anxiety sweeping through her. Her heart pounded and her knees felt loose. What did he want? Her forgiveness so he could feel better about his cruel betrayal? She doubted his conscience was bothering him. More likely, he was starting to worry about his professional reputation and needed to perform damage control, with her assistance.

  Her finger moved over the number keys as she toyed with the idea of calling Darren back. Instead, she listened to a message she’d skipped from Amy Bradshaw, who was just checking in to say hello and to see if Nikki was taking care of any new varmints. Nikki smiled. Her friend’s voice always lifted her spirits. She’d call her back tonight once she got settled into the hotel room.

  The thought of a long shower with unlimited hot water made her moan in anticipation.

  Nikki stashed the phone, then glanced back to the front of the bungalow. Mrs. Armstrong was reaching up to cup Porter’s face and saying something that made him smile. The scene tugged on her heart, even if she couldn’t relate to it. She felt like a scientist, observing a ritual she didn’t understand…but wanted to. At last he turned toward the van and made his way on his crutches to where she waited with the passenger door open. She took his crutches and helped him get settled.

  “Sorry about the misunderstanding with the ring,” he said. “Mother has an active imagination.”

  “No problem,” she said lightly. “I can see why she made that mistake.”r />
  “Because we make a perfect couple?” he teased, his voice husky.

  Nikki managed a smirk. “No. Are you in?”

  When he nodded, she closed the door with a little more force than necessary, and walked around to the driver’s door. She climbed in and started the engine. Darren’s voice was in her head, and Porter’s big body was in her space.

  This was going to be a long drive.

  27

  Nikki pushed the down elevator button of the Buck-head medical tower. “I’m so relieved that your ankle is healing well.”

  Porter grinned. “I never doubted it for a minute, little lady doc. But Marcus is going to be disappointed that I won’t be back to work as soon as he’d like.”

  Despite his cheer, she could tell he was leaning on his crutches more heavily, and his face showed signs of strain. “You’re tired,” she said, and lifted her fingers to feel his forehead before she even realized it. “No fever,” she murmured to cover her gaffe, then dropped her hand.

  “It’s been a long day,” he agreed.

  “Are we far from the hotel?”

  “No. It’s just a couple of miles south of here, closer to midtown. We’ll have time to rest before dinner. There’s a restaurant close by I’d like to take you to, if that’s okay.”

  The elevator dinged and the doors opened. He put his crutch out to hold open the door until she boarded—always the gentleman, she noted. But the day of close quarters and emotional reunions was starting to wear on her. And Darren’s voice message had been looping through her head while she’d waited for Porter to be examined. The elevator doors closed, throwing them into yet another intimate space. Nikki stabbed the button for the parking garage.

  “Actually, I’ll probably just get room service and turn in early.”

  He looked hurt. “That’s no fun. You’re going to make me go out alone? Parts of the city are sketchy— I’d be hard-pressed to outrun a mugger on crutches.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “As if I could protect you.”

  “You’ve done a bang-up job of taking care of me so far.”

  At his suddenly serious tone, Nikki sobered. “Just doing my job,” she said, partly to remind herself that was the extent of their relationship.

  “I won’t keep you out late,” he cajoled. “And I can’t drink an entire bottle of wine by myself.”

  Nikki squinted. “I didn’t take you for a wine drinker.”

  He leaned in close. “You shouldn’t stereotype people.”

  His voice rasped over her nerve endings, raising goose bumps on her arms. “Maybe you should tell that to your workers who don’t want to see a female doctor.”

  His mouth quirked. “Touché.”

  But he didn’t retreat. Instead, his blue, blue eyes bore into hers, and she knew he was thinking about kissing her. Nikki’s mouth opened to drag more air into her lungs.

  “Did I mention how good you make that dress look?” he whispered.

  Nikki swallowed. As he lowered his mouth toward hers, she was torn—she wanted to indulge in this man, but her mind was spinning in chaos. She wet her lips, but just before their mouths met, the elevator chimed and the doors slid open to an audience of people waiting.

  “Saved by the bell,” he murmured.

  Nikki ducked and walked off, then waited while Porter made his way through the crowd on his crutches. She practically trotted to stay one step ahead of him until they reached the van, and couldn’t make eye contact while she got him settled. She was able to mask her restlessness as nerves when she pulled out into bumper-to-bumper traffic to head south on Peachtree Street. It was full-on rush hour across six lanes on the tree-lined road that wound between homes, condo buildings, retail businesses, office high-rises and churches. The sidewalks were crowded with pedestrians and riders whizzed by in narrow bike lanes.

  “Impressive, huh?” Porter asked of the activity.

  She nodded. “It’s a shock to the system after being in Sweetness all this time.” She jumped as a driver behind her blasted his horn. “I have to admit I miss the quiet.”

  “Ah-hah! So there’s something about living in Sweetness that you enjoy.”

  “Sweetness has its charm,” she admitted. Then she looked over at Porter. “It’s just not the right place for me at this point in my life.”

  He looked back to the road ahead of them. “While you were waiting for me, did you get a chance to return your phone calls?”

  “The office had a ‘no cell phone’ policy. I’ll make my calls when I get to the hotel.” Besides, she still hadn’t decided if she was going to return Darren’s call. She had to admit her curiosity was piqued. But the fact that Darren hadn’t hinted at what he wanted to talk to her about smacked of more manipulation.

  “Whew, I wouldn’t want to deal with this traffic every day,” Porter said, as if he knew she was toying with the idea of relocating here.

  “I’m sure a person would get used to it.”

  “Kind of like living in Sweetness… You have to give things a chance.”

  Nikki didn’t respond, just kept her focus on the road. Vehicles were wedged so tightly together, they appeared to move as one mass. The air was thick with haze, and heat undulated off the asphalt and concrete. Her friend Amy’s summation of the city mirrored her own observation: Atlanta was a big, hot, sprawling metropolis crowded with busy, distracted people.

  The perfect place to lose herself in anonymity. A place where she wouldn’t be pressured to have messy, tangled relationships with neighbors, coworkers or patients.

  The traffic crawled forward at an agonizing pace, but at last they reached their hotel and valet parked the van. Checkin, at least, was quick, and a bellman took their bags ahead. Nikki’s feet hurt in the borrowed high heels, and she was looking forward to that long, hot shower as they walked to their rooms, which turned out to be side by side. There was nothing particularly intimate about the room arrangement, but for some reason, it felt that way as she unlocked her door and he unlocked his.

  “So…dinner in two hours?” he asked.

  She looked up and started to protest. “I don’t—”

  “Please? Besides, don’t you want to see more of the city?”

  She did. And one of the women had lent her a beautiful dress to wear tonight. She wavered. But that close call earlier…

  He held up his hand. “I’ll behave—scout’s honor.”

  She laughed and relented. “Okay. I’ll meet you in two hours.” She unlocked the door and walked into the spacious, luxurious room that was exhilaratingly cool from air-conditioning—a welcome respite for her allergies. A king-sized bed beckoned with a satiny white tufted coverlet. She walked over, slipped off her shoes, spread her arms and fell backward on the bed, enjoying the bounce before sighing and sinking into the plush linens. The ceiling was ornate with intricate patterns and gilded curlicues and a sparkling chandelier.

  It was a far cry from her simple room in the boardinghouse in Sweetness.

  In fact, the lavish hotel room reminded her of the bedroom she’d shared with Darren at his home. He had expensive taste, owned only the best furnishings. She had felt like a princess.

  Her mind wandered to the phone message Darren had left while they were driving down. Calling him back seemed like a lose-lose proposition. If he tried to pretend he’d done nothing wrong, she’d be angry and hurt all over again. And if he…

  No, her mind couldn’t go there.

  But she had to deal with it sooner or later—even if she only deleted the message. She sat up and reluctantly reached for her purse. She’d turned off her phone, but now removed it and pushed the “on” button, her heart clicking with dread.

  A knock on the door startled her. She looked toward the entrance, then realized the sound had come from another door—a flat door that blended into the wall because it was covered with the same striped wall-paper. The door that connected her room to the one next door.

  Porter’s room.

  The knock s
ounded again. She pushed to her feet and walked to the door, her tongue firmly in her cheek as she unlocked it. She swung it open to find Porter standing there, shirt hanging open to reveal his muscled chest and stomach, leaning on his crutches. Wounded and gorgeous, God help her.

  “You got us connecting rooms,” she said, deadpan.

  “Coincidence,” he said with a smile.

  “I thought you said you’d behave yourself.”

  “That’s right.”

  She crossed her arms. “Then why are you knocking on my door?”

  He held up a cell phone that she hadn’t noticed before. “It’s Rachel. She’s been trying to reach you on your cell, but—”

  “It was turned off,” Nikki finished. “Is something wrong?”

  “Ask her yourself,” he said, extending the phone.

  She took the phone, wondering with chagrin if Rachel had overheard that little exchange. “Hello?”

  “Connecting rooms, huh?”

  Nikki closed her eyes briefly. “Rachel, is there a problem?”

  “Yes. You really should turn on your phone.”

  From the bed where she’d left it, her phone started chiming with downloaded messages.

  “Okay,” Nikki said, tamping down her impatience. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Nigel. He won’t sleep.”

  Nikki exhaled in relief that it wasn’t something more serious, although she realized Rachel was probably worried about her pet. “Is he sick again?”

  “I don’t know. He won’t eat, either. Unless he’s with Cupid.”

  “Cupid?”

  “The deer. We named her. You know—Comet, Cupid, Donner and Blitzen.”

  Nikki winced and glanced up at Porter. “You named the doe Cupid?”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “Well, we couldn’t just keep calling her ‘deer.’ The point is, Nigel is obsessed with Cupid. He wants to be with her all the time. Otherwise he whines and refuses to eat or sleep.”

  Nikki bit back a smile. “He’ll eat when he gets hungry enough, and he’ll sleep when he gets tired enough. How is, um, Cupid faring?”