Page 6 of Wasted
“Looks like you’re still getting yourself into trouble.” His grin and tone said he meant it to be humorous.
But the remark rang with echoes of other words she hadn’t left behind. “You’re going to be in worse trouble if you don’t stop letting him control you.”
She clenched her jaw against the memory, the pain of it. The many reasons she’d shut out those days came rushing back, the reasons she’d had to close the vault of her heart to Cillian Doherty. And it seemed he hadn’t changed as much as his appearance suggested.
Whatever his reason for the sudden re-appearance, she didn’t need to know what it was. She needed to excuse herself from him before he led her into trouble again.
“And you called me a thrill-seeker. If this is what your job is like every day, I guess I should’ve become a PT.” Teasing twinkled in his admittedly hypnotic eyes.
But it wasn’t working on her. He was clearly still the person she’d known before. Flippant, flirty—a charmer focused on fun and adventure. He’d always preferred to bail on real life, never taking anything seriously, even when her?—
No. She would not walk down that memory lane. She didn’t have to worry. She was no longer an adolescent girl with her first crush. She was an independent, thirty-one-year-old woman who knew better than to be charmed and led astray by any man, no matter how handsome. Ironically, she had Cillian to thank for her first lesson in resisting such men and her own misguided feelings.
She should make clear to him, as soon as possible, that his wiles would no longer work on her and were not welcome. “I’m sure it still wouldn’t be what you’re looking for. We focus on patient care, not self-centered fun and games.”
Surprise flickered in the depths of those dark orbs. Likely astonished she had the gumption to answer him back, since she never had when they were teens.
But then his grin widened, stretching across his face. “I see I have a lot to learn. I may have to shadow you for a while so you can teach me what that patient care looks like.” His suggestive tone curled a shiver through her. Or was it a tremor of trepidation?
“What do you mean?”
He folded his arms over his mock-neck blue sweater, challenge glinting in his gaze. “Well, clearly you’re the expert on how to not have any fun and how to take care of everyone perfectly.”
She resisted the urge to take the bait, the reference to their shared past. Her more alarming concern at the moment was his inference that she still didn’t understand. “Why would you shadow me?”
“I told you.” His mouth formed a smirk that she itched to wipe off. But that would require physical contact.
She harnessed the mental control she usually had in spades and focused on the more pressing question. “Why are you here?”
“To rescue you, of course.”
Honestly, he had a knack for getting under her skin. She had to fight not to roll her eyes like the teenager she was trying not to be. “And you knew somehow that I was in danger at this particular client’s house?”
“Yes.”
She pinched her lips together. She would not meet him at his level. She instead gave him the silent stare that worked on her younger siblings, even Spring. The one that said they knew their behavior was inappropriate, and she would wait for them to do the right thing.
He chuckled, lowering his arms to land his hands on his hips. “I heard it at the office. I was there when you called in. Or right after anyway.”
“The office? You mean CareFull Home Health?”
“What other office do you have?”
She held back a frustrated grunt. “Do you want to tell me what you were doing there sometime today? Or should I leave now for my next client?”
He laughed again, a low and familiar sound that threatened to undermine her irritation. “You’re looking at CareFull’s new clinical social worker.”
The statement hit a wall in her brain, stopping it from being absorbed. That couldn’t be. But Racquelle had mentioned they’d finally found a candidate for the social worker position. Victoria had been too busy to inquire further about the candidate at the time. A fatal mistake, apparently.
But even if she believed in chance, the odds would be too ridiculous for such a coincidence to be possible. Cillian couldn’t have happened to return after sixteen years and end up taking a job at the very business where she was employed. And he’d never had any interest in becoming a social worker when he was seventeen.
“Are you telling me you didn’t know I worked there?”
“No.” He didn’t look away or blink. The man’s confidence, or arrogance, was unshakable. He suddenly leaned toward her, shrinking the space between them. “I took the job because you work there.”
She blinked, stomach twisting as her pulse thrummed in her ears. Either from his closeness or from the alarming admission he hadn’t even tried to hide.
She should probably be grateful for his honesty. He’d had plenty of vices, but lying was never one of them and, apparently, still was not. “Why?—”
