Page 46 of Bad Medicine
Looking through the wide doors into the house, I could see Benny sitting with the other men in the living room, his body turned just enough so that he was able to look at Lexi and still make it appear that he was engaging with the guys.
“He seems like a good guy. Why don’t you give him a chance?”
Suddenly typing more aggressively on her laptop keys, Lexi shook her head.
“I can’t do that. He deserves better. He deserves more than I can offer him.”
“Shouldn’t that be his decision?” I asked.
Lexi looked up, her mouth pressed into a severe line.
“What about you?” she asked, not at all interested in her laptop anymore. “I could say the same thing about Rocco. I may think the guy is a complete tool, but it’s obvious he’s into you. Why not throw the guy a bone?” Her smile grew devilish, and she added, “Or let him through you one.”
I could feel my face blushing hotly, her implication both embarrassing and—unfortunately—enticing.
“I really don’t want to saddle him with my baggage,” I said simply.
“Shouldn’t that be his decision?” Lexi replied, throwing my own words back at me, rendering me momentarily speechless.
I was still trying to come up with a suitable response when Frankie hollered from the kitchen.
“How about you guys all get in here and start hauling dishes out to the table.” Turning to the guys in the living room, she continued, “Enzo, you can carve the turkey, and then we can eat.”
And just like that, everyone was moving, Frankie’s orders being followed without question. Reaching for the giant bowl of stuffing, I followed the others back into the yard, setting the bowl in the middle of the table. Laid out with a gorgeous autumn theme with the tablecloth matching the napkins and little name cards at everyone’s plate.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang, which I normally wouldn’t have thought twice about, but then Enzo gave a sharp whistle, causing everyone to turn to him, the tension in the house suddenly ratcheting up ten-fold. Before I could ask what was happening, Rocco had moved to Enzo’s side, heading for the front door, a gun in his hand. Fear climbed up my throat, choking me, and I couldn’t do anything but stare. The other guys were all spread out around the rooms, their own weapons ready.
I had thought I was the kind of person who reacted well in emergencies. Bring me a patient with severe trauma or blood loss, and I was cool as a cucumber, assessing and diagnosing without so much as a blink.
But here, standing next to this table while men I barely knew moved around with guns in their hands, and I found myself at a complete loss.
I didn’t have to do anything in this instance, however, because suddenly Lucky was there, her small body in front of me and Lexi both, ready to defend us from whatever threat might have befallen us at Thanksgiving dinner. I noticed that Lucky didn’t wield a gun, however, but a deadly-looking switchblade, which she twirled in her fingers expertly.
Standing stock-still, muscles coiled and ready to flee, I found I could barely breathe, I was so scared. What the hell was I even doing here?
“You hear that?” Lucky asked, cocking her head at the house. Her eyes were the darkest brown I had ever seen, and I found myself wondering why she looked so wary all the time. Following her gaze, I could see Rocco with his arms around a woman, spinning her in circles and laughing.
“Who is it?” I asked, feeling out of the loop. These people had such an established relationship, a little family group with history, and I was nothing but an outsider.
“Enzo’s mom,” Lexi replied, stepping around Lucky and placing the pitcher of gravy she had been carrying on the table. “She was on a cruise, but she bailed early.” Turning from the table, Lexi looked up with a wicked smile on her face. “I bet Francesca’slovingthat surprise.”
Shaking my head, I turned to go back inside and grab some more food, but pulled up short when I almost smacked right into a broad chest encased in a tight black V-neck. Looking up, I could feel the heat of his body, as though he had spent the day in the sun. Closing my eyes, I took a deep inhale, noticing the rich musk scent he wore and, most surprisingly, nothing else.
“Watch out, Doc,” he said when I made no move to step away. “You keep leaning in like you are, and people might go getting the wrong idea about us.”
Ignoring the jab—because I’d earned it—I looked up at Rocco quizzically.
“You smell good.”
Raising one eyebrow, he stared at me.
“And?”
“And,” I said hesitantly. Why was I commenting on the way he smelled. Just because there didn’t seem to be one hint of cigarette smoke on him, didn’t mean anything. He could have a thousand different reasons for smelling so incredible, and it would be dumb of me to assume I had anything to do with it. “I like it,” I finished lamely.
“Well,” Rock said slowly, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, causing tingles to run down my spine. I remembered how amazing that tongue had felt against my own skin, the silky heat of it having made appearances in my dreams for weeks. “Turns out I got some pretty great medical advice a while back.” I could feel the surprise etched on my face, but was powerless to stop it. “Wouldn’t want to go risking the health of my noodle before you’ve had a taste, now, would I?”
With that, he made his way back into the kitchen, leaving me gaping after him in disbelief.
