“It’s a full house this season.” She was silent on the way to the door, then turned to him on the porch. She looked at his mouth. “You should know, pretend first dates don’t come with a kiss.”
This had him smiling. “But you’re thinking about it.”
She laughed. It was a good laugh. “I’m not inviting you in, Levi.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Because we’re pretending for your family. The people in my life don’t need to know about you.”
“Ouch. And I thought you told me you didn’t have anyone in your life.”
“Fine. I have my landlord and aforementioned roommate.”
The front door swung open. A pretty blond smiled out at him. “Charlotte,” she said. “Landlord and aforementioned friend, though I’m amending what she said to add I’m also her best friend. And her family.”
Levi recognized the protectiveness and appreciated it. “Nice to meet you.” He slid Jane a smile. “Seems we have plenty of reasons for a second date.” Then he started to walk back to his car.
“Hey,” she called.
He turned back to find her standing there on the porch, lit by the glow of a single-bulb light. “What’s the first reason?” she asked.
He smiled. “That kiss you want.”
And when she didn’t deny this, he smiled all the way home.
Chapter 13
It wasn’t a real workday until someone yelled at Jane. It could be a doctor, a patient, whoever. It always happened at some point, and it was the least favorite part of her job. Today it was a belligerent patient named Jason Wells. “Your wounds are deep,” she told him. “They need to be cleaned out or you risk infection.”
“Get the hell out of my face and get me my phone!”
Jane took a deep breath for patience—which didn’t come—but stepped back from the thirty-year-old, who’d purposely gone snowboarding off trail—not permitted here at High Alpine—and had hit a tree.
With his face.
Working on the front lines of patient care meant interacting with the general public, and one thing she could count on was that pain brought out the worst in people.
She’d been attempting to irrigate the worst of the guy’s cuts so he could get stitched up, but he wasn’t having it. Bleeding profusely from several places, and all he wanted was his phone. “Phones aren’t allowed in the treatment rooms, sir.”
“The hell with that.” He struggled to sit up. Probably because his wrist was broken, but he didn’t want anyone touching that either. “Help me up, I’m outta here.”
His buddy, who’d dragged Jason into the clinic twenty minutes ago, appeared through the privacy curtain. “Dude, I can hear you yelling at her from the waiting room. Calm down, she’s just trying to help you.”
Oh boy. Never in the history of ever has telling someone to calm down worked.
“I don’t need medical attention.” Finally managing to sit up, Jason swung out with his uninjured arm, nailing the tray, scattering the medical supplies across the room.
Mateo, who was the doctor on staff for the day, having been sent over on loan from the hospital when the scheduled doctor hadn’t been able to get to work, also appeared in the doorway. “Jane.” He gave her a chin nudge indicating he wanted her to move farther back, out of Jason’s reach.
Before she could, Jason’s friend pushed past her and . . . punched Jason in the face.
Jason fell back, unconscious, and his friend looked at Mateo and Jane. “Sorry about the mess he made, but you should be able to treat him now.”