Page 12 of In Too Deep
Her eyes—shadowed with dark circles and rimmed red—widened.“What are you doing here?Didn’t you get my text?”
“I did.The question is, what are you doing here?You need to take the day off.”Noah stepped inside.
Meg’s back stiffened.Her hands paused as she gathered up the paperwork scattered on the counter.“I’m fine.You’re as bad as Sarah.”
Her nurse, Sarah, walked in then from the back office, her Crayola-red hair brushing her shoulders in a sleek bob.She arched a brow—with two silver rods pierced through it—at Meg.“Not that I mind being put in any category with Mr.Hunk-of-Burning-Biceps, but maybe we’re both right.You need a day off.”
Hunk-of-Burning what?
Meg’s cheeks pinked.“There’s work to be done.”
“Work that can wait.Now give me these and go find some solace in those tree limbs he calls arms.”Sarah tried to take the papers, but Meg didn’t let go.
Noah bit back a laugh.This girl was something else.And as much as he wanted to hold Meg right now, to pull her close—probably not the best idea if he wanted to keep things safely in the friends category.
Just friends.
Right.
“Let’s go for a drive, Doc.Just for an hour.”His voice was gentle but insistent.“I have coffee and a pastry in the Jeep for you.Take the morning off at least.”
“But there are patients?—”
Sarah finally pulled the papers away.“Dr.Carter will be here in an hour.Everything can wait.And if it can’t, I know how to dial 911.”
Meg’s shoulders sagged.Her eyes met the nurse’s, then Noah’s.“Fine.”She grabbed her bag from under the counter.
Noah held the door and tried not to inhale her flowery scent as she passed.
He failed.
We’re just…friends.
Yup.He was a big fat liar.He cast one last glance at Sarah.Oops.The knowing smirk on her face, the way she wiggled her eyebrows…He had no doubt the woman was on to him.
Meg climbed into the Jeep with her face drawn and pale and her hands clasped tightly in her lap.Noah’s fingers gripped the wheel.He’d keep her safe, no matter what.From treasure hunters, from cave collapses, from her own grief if he could.
The road stretched into the desert and wound through scrub brush and twisted junipers.
Meg stared out the window and said nothing.
Noah glanced at her, and the ache in his chest deepened.He wanted to promise her it would all be okay, that she’d get past it, that the guilt would fade.But the truth was, some wounds never seemed to heal.
His hadn’t.
Which begged the question—why did he think he was the right person to help her now?He should track down Nimue or Eden.Surely they’d spend the morning with her.
Yet he also couldn’t leave her in pain.Every inch of him longed to pull her into his arms and chase away her darkness, to be the light she needed.And even if he couldn’t do that, well, he could be here.
Noah turned toward his favorite lookout—a spot few tourists knew about—as the sun climbed higher and burned away the shadows.
He wanted more for her than the path he’d chosen—running from grief, from love, from the one thing he feared most.
Hope.
For someone who didn’t want a relationship with her, Noah seemed to show up every time she turned around.
Meg leaned back in the passenger seat of Noah’s Jeep, the cracked vinyl hot beneath her thighs.The road ahead was a narrow strip of packed dirt—barely wide enough for two vehicles to pass.Scrubby pinyon pines and gnarled junipers dotted the rocky terrain.Red dust bled through sparse grass.
