Chapter 6

Two Seconds Later - Ellie

Holy crap. Did I just hear Luke correctly? Was that…flirting? It couldn't be. But whatever it was, the wicked grin he gave me afterward—the one where he flashed his set of perfect white teeth and winked at me—sent a flash of heat straight between my legs. What the hell?

I did what any self-respecting person would do in my situation and totally pretended like I didn't hear him. "So, is that it for this floor?" I asked instead, turning to face away from him. I needed a second. The thought of him pulling my hair— No. No. No.

"Yeah, since you've already seen the kitchen and the sitting room and the mudroom. The only other things are the patio and the backyard," he replied. "Well, grounds."

"Grounds?" That got my attention. I turned back to him and arched a brow.

"That's what the real estate agent called it, but I still call it a backyard."

"How big are the ‘grounds?'" I said the last word with a faux-British accent. Meg would've been proud.

Luke scrunched up his nose and winced. "Uh, three and a half acres." He shrugged. "Not too big. Just enough for privacy."

"I see." But still grounds, though. "What's out there?"

He lifted his chin. "I'll show you."

He led me toward the back of the house, through the fancy kitchen and out a set of white French doors that opened onto a huge stone patio. There was an outdoor kitchen, including a giant TV, a full-size refrigerator, and eight high-backed stools lined up around a square bar top. I turned to look out across the grass behind us. A huge rectangular pool sparkled in the sun. Black-and-white-striped patio umbrellas covered a few sitting areas, including chaises, chairs, and small tables. It looked like a frickin luxury hotel.

Behind the giant pool was perfectly manicured green grass and then a small forest of trees. "How far back does your land go?" I asked.

"A little ways," he said off-handedly as two big dogs came bounding toward us. One was a golden retriever and the other looked like a springer spaniel. These had to be the dogs whose crates and bed I saw in the mudroom earlier.

"Who are these guys?" I asked, bending down to pet the pups whose tongues were lolling out of their mouths with excitement.

"The golden is Huckleberry, Remington's pooch. And this is Dolly, my girl."

"Dolly?" I asked, scratching the pretty brown-and-white-speckled dog on her head.

"Yep, named her after Ms. Parton. She's one of my music icons."

Wait. What? "Oh, my goddess. I couldn't love Dolly Parton more if I tried. She's so business savvy and smart and kind. I want to be her when I grow up."

"Yeah, she's pretty great," Luke agreed.

We exchanged a smile. Who knew Rockabilly loved Dolly? Total news. First War and Peace and now Dolly? What other surprising thing was he gonna bust out with?

"So, don't you have another dog?"

"Another one?" Luke cocked his head, frowning.

"Yeah, I saw two built-in beds and crates in the mudroom."

"Oh, the second set is for Huckleberry here." He reached down and scritched the golden retriever behind the ears with his right hand. "I knew Remington would be staying awhile, so I asked him to go ahead and build the equivalent of a guest room for his dog."

"You had a space built into your house for your best friend's dog?" I think my heart skipped a beat.

"Look. Dogs are family."

"I couldn't agree more." My voice sounded more surprised than I meant it to. My own dog, Marie, a mutt I'd rescued from the Humane Society, had passed away last year and I had been grieving ever since. But I had no idea Rockabilly loved dogs. Meg had never had one. She was way too picky about the cleanliness level of her house. Only now that she was with Jeremy, she was happily embracing chaos, which meant loving Huckleberry as much as Jeremy did. She even let Huck lick her face. I'd never thought I'd live to see the day.

"Where'd you get Dolly?" I asked, expecting him to say she came from an expensive pure-bred breeder.

"I went to the shelter and asked which dog had been there the longest."

"What?" Okay, not gonna lie. This time my heart did a somersault.

"Yeah, seems Miss Dolly here had some behavioral problems. She kept getting returned."

"She did?" I leaned down and kissed the dog's head and hugged her. "Sweet girl."

"Yep, but I promised her I'd be her forever home if she came with me."

"You did?" My voice was barely a high-pitched squeak. I couldn't help it. It was the sweetest thing ever.

"Yeah, I paid a fortune to have a professional trainer come out and teach me how to work with her. But it's been worth it. Hasn't it, girl?" He leaned down and rubbed Dolly's back. The dog looked up at him with adoring eyes.

Like all females in his vicinity, I thought with some irony. Though I couldn't blame the dog for loving him. Not if he promised to take care of her forever and built a special bed for her and paid a trainer to help with her behavioral issues. I mean, swoon.

"I'm glad Dolly has you," I said, really meaning it.

"I'm glad I have her," he replied, expelling his breath. "She's been the only female I can commit to."

I laugh-snorted. "I swear I wasn't going to say that."

He dipped his chin and bit his lip. "But you were thinking it?"

"Maybe," I admitted, grinning at him.

He winked at me. And along with that chin dip, lip-bite thing, I couldn't help it, my belly did a funny little leap. Dang it. No wonder this guy got so much attention from the ladies. He was charming when he wanted to be. Like kryptonite-level charming.

Thankfully, Luke turned and splayed his hands toward the patio and the yard beyond. "So, this is pretty much it," he said. "There's a half a basketball court and a tennis court out there somewhere, but it's a hike."

"I understand," I said, turning to follow him back inside.

"So, how did you like the tour?" he finally said once we were back in the kitchen. He propped his right elbow on the countertop.

"Wait. What about your bedroom?" I blurted. I'd been waiting to see it. As fabulous as this house was, I couldn't imagine how amazing the primary suite was IRL. My own guest room was nicer than any primary suite I'd ever seen before. I was especially interested in the closet-space in a pad like this. I mean, I'd seen the pictures online, but pictures weren't the same as seeing it in person.

"You want to see my bedroom?" Luke asked, quirking a brow.

Uh oh. "Not like that," I quickly clarified, giving him a look. "It's just…well, I bet it's the fanciest room in the house. That's all."

"I don't know," he replied. "The kitchen is pretty fancy. I mean, did I mention the wine room?"

My cheeks heated. Great, Ellie. Way to invite yourself into a room he probably doesn't want to show you. For all you know, it's filled with leopard print and black rubber sheets and some Fifty Shades of Grey stuff he doesn't want you to know about. "Nevermind. Nevermind." I waved both hands in front of my face, wishing there was a way to push rewind on this convo. "I didn't mean to be pushy."

"No. No, it's fine. Come on up. I'll show you my room, Nurse Hoffman."

Well, if he was gonna offer. I could put up with a little ribbing. I mean, I still wanted to see the closet. Closets? I promptly shut my trap and followed him up the winding back stairs to the second floor again. This time we went in the opposite direction of my room. We turned a corner and came upon two huge double doors that were closed. He pulled them open simultaneously and stepped inside the biggest bedroom I'd ever seen.

It had floor-to-ceiling windows facing the backyard on one side with a nook carved out for a desk and chair. The dark hardwood floors were covered with plush charcoal-colored rugs that my feet sank into. Two steps up led to a ginormous bed that had to be some sort of custom size. Even a California King wasn't that big. It was covered with a white duvet with wide chocolate squares along the edges and chocolate-colored sheets that I couldn't help but step up and run my fingers over. I liked a good high thread count, but this was next level. The pillows were covered in chocolate and white cases and they, too, had some serious thread count. A wall of dark wood shelves lined with books covered the wall directly in front of the bed with a movie-screen-sized TV in the center of it.

"So, what do you think?" Luke asked.

"I think it's huge."

"I hear that a lot in bedrooms." His grin was devilish.

"Ha, ha, ha," is what I said, but honestly, I didn't doubt it. My traitorous face heated again, so I ducked toward the windows. Crossing my arms over my chest, I shuffled across the huge expanse of floor to what I assumed was a big-ass bathroom. I pointed at the door. "May I?"

Luke nodded toward the door. "Be my guest."

I stepped inside a room that looked exactly like a day spa. There was a ginormous standalone, white-jetted tub in front of a window the overlooked the trees at the back of the property. White cabinets and another plush rug. White marble floors and countertops with a streak of gray through them. Next to the tub was a glass-enclosed shower even bigger than the one in the basement, with all sorts of shower heads of different shapes and sizes. There were two matching vanities with plush navy stools in front of them and a gas fireplace and chandelier in the center of the room. I'd never seen anything like it.

"This is…ah-maz-ing," I gushed. I was right. The online pictures weren't even close to capturing the fanciness of this place. And the pictures couldn't convey that it smelled like fresh-laundry-with-lilies heaven in here either. I closed my eyes and breathed it in.

"The floors are heated and so are the towel racks," Luke said.

"What?" I rushed over to the towel rack and grabbed one of the cushy white towels. It was definitely warm. I pressed it to my face and breathed it in too. "Are you kidding me?"

His smile was boyish. His eyes crinkled at the edges. "The ones in your room are heated too."

"What?" I obviously hadn't had time earlier to discover my fancy towel racks. Nice.

"If ya think that's something, you should see the toilet."

"Where's the toilet?" I asked, immediately interested. I mean, who doesn't want to see a fancy toilet? I spun in a circle.

Luke pointed to one of the three other floor-to-ceiling doors in the room. I about leapt over to pull open the heavy door. Inside was a room as big as my entire bathroom at home with a toilet sticking out of the far wall. It looked smaller than most toilets until I realized that the back of the thing wasn't there.

"It's Japanese," Luke explained. "All the mechanisms are in the wall."

"So, what does it do that's so fancy?" I asked, cocking my head to the side to stare at it. Truly curious.

"For starters, the seat is heated."

"Of course," I said as if it were a given, but I was secretly already impressed. "And?"

"And it has a foamy spray, a bidet feature, an air dryer, a deodorizer, a self-cleaner. Oh, and a night light. A multi-colored one. I prefer blue."

"A multi-colored night light!" I said as if that was the most impressive feature. But really, I'd never heard of a toilet with a night light. Pretty smart. "Does my room have one too?"

He pursed his lips and scrunched up one eye, obviously thinking about it. "I don't think so."

"Okay, well. I still can't wait to try the towel warmer." I stepped back into the main bathroom. "What's that?" I asked, pointing to another door on the far side of the room.

"That's one of the closets."

"One of the closets?" Okay, as expected, there were multiple. Nice. They hadn't been online. I rushed over to the door. "May I?" I managed to ask before barging through it. I knew I was probably being rude to be making the poor guy show me his entire ensuite, but when would I ever have the chance to see such opulence again, live and in person?

"Go ahead." Luke smiled and nodded. He also bit his lip again in that way that made me clench my thighs together, but I purposely ignored that.

I pushed open the huge door to reveal a closet as big as my living room. It was covered in custom cabinetry. Luke hit the lights on the wall next to the door and the entire space lit up. There were rows of shirts, rows of jeans, rows of pants, rows of suits. There was a floor-to-ceiling wall of shoes, boots, and every kind of footwear in between. There were ties, jackets, pullovers, and multiple drawers no doubt filled with expensive socks and underwear that I didn't want to think about too much. Did Luke wear boxers or briefs? Boxer-briefs most likely. Oh, goddess, why was I thinking about that? And even more importantly, why was I picturing it?

I shook my head and forced myself to banish the image of Luke wearing nothing but boxer-briefs from my mind and refocused on the enormity of the closet. In the middle was a round seating area covered with dark-blue cushions. On the far right was an area of built-ins with a full-size clothes steamer, an ironing board, and a flat wooden surface. "What's that?" I pointed at the wooden surface.

"That's where I put my suitcases when I pack them." He walked over to the built-in and pulled open a wooden door that revealed an entire set of high-end matching suitcases.

I blinked at him. A whole suitcase-packing area? Was he for real? My suitcase was stuffed in the coat closet in my entryway, and I had to drag it into my bedroom and hoist it up on my bed when I wanted to pack it.

"Where's the other closet?" I asked, kinda bobbing my head, still trying to act like his suitcase situation wasn't super impressive.

Luke led the way back into the bathroom spa and across the space to another floor-to-ceiling door. He pushed and it swung open to reveal an even bigger room filled with the same custom cabinetry. Only this room was empty.

"It's for my partner," he said kinda sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I see. You haven't allowed any of the groupies to move in with you yet?"

"Ouch," he replied, wincing.

I bit my lip. "Sorry." Okay, that had been a little low.

"No. No need to apologize. We're both trying to be nicer to each other, right? That would have been a totally appropriate comment coming from you a year ago. And to answer your question, this room can stay empty as far as I'm concerned."

I was about to mention that he could always turn it into a safe room—didn't uber rich people have those?—when he turned on his heel and led the way into the bathroom. This time my eyes fell to a roll of gauze on the marble countertop. It quickly reminded me of why he'd invited me here in the first place. I stopped and turned to face Luke. "How's your arm feeling?"

"It's throbbing right now, to be honest. And it's probably time I change the gauze on the wound."

I stepped closer to inspect his arm. All I'd really seen was the sling that went over his neck. I assumed he had a soft cast, but as he gingerly pulled it from the sling, I noted it was in a splint.

"I opted for the splint to be able to shower," he said.

"Makes sense," I replied, "but let's see the wound. Where is it?"

He nodded slowly. He used his right arm to point at a spot above his heart. "It's pretty nasty."

I winced. "I bet. I'm sorry to hear it. Take off your shirt."

"Yes, ma'am." He gave me another wicked grin.

And I blushed again. Damn it. Since when did I start blushing in front of Rockabilly?

He unbuttoned his flannel deftly for a guy with one good hand and shrugged it off his left shoulder to reveal a large square of gauze that had already turned slightly pink.

"Ooh, yeah. It is time to change it," I said.

He was already pulling at the gauze as if he intended to change the dressing himself. I slapped his hand away.

"Let me do that," I insisted, glad to finally be in my element again. Fancy houses weren't my wheelhouse, but wound-care sure was. I grabbed the gauze and pointed at him.

"Do you have some alcohol and tape?" I asked, glancing around but not seeing those items.

"Right in that drawer beneath the gauze."

I quickly pulled open the drawer. The tape, alcohol, and nitrile gloves were there. Right next to a giant box of condoms. Nope. Nope. None o' my business. I quickly retrieved the three items I needed plus some cotton balls. I set them on the countertop and got to work. Now I was in my element. Changing a dressing? No problem. I'd done it a thousand times over the years. Nothing awkward about it at all. At least not until I looked up to see Luke standing there with his shirt hanging from one arm and his full six-pack and ridiculously muscled shoulders on display.

"Holy shit," I breathed.

One of his dark brows quirked. "Like what ya see?"

"I had no idea you were… I mean, I've never…" Hmm. I was a blathering idiot, but under the circumstances, it seemed like a solid response. I mean, had I ever seen Luke with his shirt off before? Surely over the years we'd all been swimming together or something. But I was damn sure if I had seen this before I would have noticed…and remembered.

"I told ya. I've been working out," he said with a chuckle.

I blew air into my cheeks. "I believe you." I mean, credit where credit was due. I tipped my head from side-to-side and tried to concentrate on my task but damn. I was shook. Luke had a fully rocked out six-pack and the hottest upper body I'd seen in a minute. Or years, actually. I swallowed hard and pulled off the dressing, making him wince.

"Sorry, a bit distracted," I admitted.

We spent the next few minutes in silence as I treated the wound with the alcohol and cotton balls, searching for any sign of infection. It wasn't swollen or red. That was promising. "Is it tender when I touch it? More than usual, I mean?"

"Nope," Luke replied.

"Are you taking oral antibiotics?"

"Yep."

"Good." I nodded and then carefully taped new gauze to his shoulder, trying hard not to let my fingers touch his warm skin more than was necessary. And really trying not to let my gaze dip down to his six-pack and then super-unholy-oh-my-goddess trying not to look at the thin line of hair that trailed its way from his muscles into his jeans.

"It looks good," I finally said. Oh, no. Was I talking about his body or his new gauze square?

He grinned from ear to ear. "Thank you. Like I said, I've been working out."

Okay, there was cocky-as-hell Luke again, giving me a timely reminder that he needed no more praise. I arched a brow at him. "I'm talking about the wound," I maybe lied. "It's pink and healthy and looks to be healing nicely."

"Good," he replied with an unrepentant grin. "I've been treating it like this every day."

"See, you don't need me." Which was nothing but a relief because I already knew if I had to look at his naked chest every day, I was gonna start having dirty dreams. Dirty, inappropriate dreams.

He sighed and pulled his shirt back onto his left shoulder. "That's not what the insurance people say."

"Insurance has to be the worst industry ever." I bit my lip as I desperately tried not to look at his six-pack and happy trail one last time before he covered them with his shirt. "Some of the things I've seen over the years in the medical field. It's egregious."

"See, that's what I like about you," Luke said, rebuttoning the flannel with his right hand.

"What?" I frowned.

"You use words like ‘egregious.'"

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Oh, don't most of your groupies have developed vocabularies?" I hoped that sounded more like our shit-giving days but worried it sounded a little grouchy.

His brow knitted. "You seem overly concerned about the groupies."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, well, I can only imagine what a revolving door your new bedroom has been. I saw the condoms." Uh oh. Had that been too mean? Too judgmental? What? We'd always joked around like this before. See. It was awkward between us now.

"I would think as a medical professional, you'd be a fan of safe sex."

I scowled. At myself, not at him. He was right. "Sorry again. I was just trying to keep things from being awkward, but you're perfectly right. Safe sex all the way. Two thumbs up."

Luke cocked his head to the side and stared at me. "What would you say if I told you I've never actually had a one-night stand?"

Okay, I couldn't help my snort of laughter. Auto-response.

He narrowed his eyes on me. "You wouldn't believe me?"

"Yeah, nope," I said, shaking my head probably more vigorously than I needed to.

"It's true," he said quietly. "Honestly, I don't believe in them."

I was frowning hard and staring at him as if he'd just tried to explain quantum physics to me. I mean, quantum physics would probably make more sense to my brain. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged his right shoulder. "I mean I know I've had a lot of short-term relationships, but I don't do one-night stands. I prefer to get to know a woman. Spend some time with her and have fun for a little while."

"Oh, you mean like a month?" Damn. I couldn't help myself. Why I was I being like this? The quantity and frequency of Luke's sexual partners had nothing to do with me.

"Depends. Maybe two or three months. Definitely more than one night though. That's not my style. I don't just jump into bed, Ellie."

Honestly, you could have knocked me over with a Q-tip. I'd been under the impression that Luke was the king of one-night stands, but now that I thought about it, Meg had never really told me that. I'd just assumed it. His relationships—if you could call them that—I'd heard about were more of the short-term variety, but yeah, seems like most of them had been for several weeks at least. I'd just assumed his love life was peppered with one-night stands also. That was pretty shitty of me.

Wait. Why were we talking about this again? New subject, please. I turned to put the gauze and tape back into the drawer, steadfastly ignoring the Costco-sized condoms box. "What pain meds are you using?" I asked, shutting the drawer and turning back to face him. Pleased with myself for changing the subject so easily. I was all professional health care provider now.

"None."

I couldn't have heard that correctly. "None?" I frowned.

"That's right. None."

I crossed my arms over my chest and perched a hip on the counter, the same way I would in an examination room with any patient. "Why? It's got to be painful."

"Of course it is. But there's no way in hell I'm coming out of this with an opioid addiction."

I sucked in my breath. Luke and Meg's father was an addict. Gambling, mostly, from what I understood, but a predilection to addiction in your DNA was a serious thing. It was something Meg and I had talked about a lot. Seems both siblings had a fear they'd become addicts too. Luke and Jeremy played poker for pizza money, and I knew both Meg and Luke were fine with a little drinking, but they drew a hard line at drugs and, honestly, same. I'd seen enough of addiction when I worked at the hospital to know Luke wasn't being paranoid. Many addictions began with painkillers prescribed by medical staff. I couldn't blame Luke, but I also couldn't imagine how much pain he was probably in.

"I can recommend some things that are less addictive," I offered.

"No thanks. Not interested." He shook his head with certainty.

"Okay. Okay." I nodded. I understood. "Thanks for letting me see your bedroom." And your chest. I gave him a little smile.

"No problem." He returned the smile. "I'll walk you back to your room."

"No need. I know where it is from here." When I made it to the double doors of his bedroom, I turned to him. "Look, we should talk about the nursing position."

"Nope. Not yet." He shook his head again.

I frowned. "Why not?" Wasn't the nursing position the whole reason I was visiting?

"First, you have to let me wine and dine you, Ellie. I'll see you at dinner tonight. Eight o'clock."

And with that, the door shut in my face. I walked slowly back to my room, reliving the last hour or so in Luke's company. He'd been pleasant, funny, and accommodating. Not to mention ridiculously hot without his shirt. And his house was insane. Now he wanted to wine and dine me? This was dangerous. Very dangerous.

Because I could get used to this.