Sweet Hearts (The Lindstroms Book 3) Page 6

  He took one last look at her, flaring his nostrils in frustration before returning his eyes to the road.

  In other words, You made your bed, Minste. Time to lie in it.

  Chapter 4

  Erik didn’t know how Ingrid had described Skidoo Bay to Katrin, but he was sure of one thing just by looking at her face as they pulled into town: Katrin and Skidoo Bay were a match made in heaven.

  Her face brightened with delight as she exclaimed over little details: the cobblestone sidewalks, the brightly colored restaurants and boutiques, the cheerful, bright-pink geraniums that lined Main Street, hanging from old-fashioned, shiny, black wrought-iron streetlamps. She pointed out a creperie serving French pastries and lattes. She oohed and ahhed over charming courtyards with quaint, landscaped pathways that led to fashionable art galleries.

  I bet those dimples haven’t seen this much action since last year, he thought, having a much better time watching her than admiring the charming town of Skidoo Bay.

  He smiled at her unobserved, admiring her fresh, unsophisticated prettiness. Her cheeks had some color from her excitement, and her ponytail, which had dried in a cascade of soft, blond curls, had a lost tendril or two that caressed the skin by her ear.

  She was so…distracting.

  He frowned, looking away from her. Erik didn’t want to be distracted by her. To his disgust, however, he was swiftly losing that battle.

  They turned off of Main Street and pulled up in front of a ‘73 Hoyt on a well-kept side street. Erik parked the car, turning to her.

  “Hey,” he said, trying to keep his tone serious, but unemotional. “Before you go, I just wanted to say again that I’m not far away if you need anything. Just call or text me and I’ll be here, okay?”

  Katrin turned and smiled at Erik, her face registering surprise, then tenderness. Without warning, she leaned over and gently pressed her lips to his cheek. He froze, unable to move, unable to think, unable to focus on anything but the touch of her soft lips against his skin. His heart slammed in his chest and his eyes closed, like an untried schoolboy, like someone who had never been kissed before. Her touch was no more than a breeze against his skin, a feather, a petal, but he felt the imprint of her lips, the heat of her breath, even after she moved away.

  When he opened his eyes, she was leaning back, her eyes wide. He saw the uncertainty in her eyes at first, followed by wonder, as she murmured, “Oh.”

  He stared back at her. He could feel his face flushing hot and red and he wrinkled his brows together, frowning at her, confused by the raw intensity of his feelings. He didn’t know what to say. “I…um…”

  She licked her lips, flicking her glance to his mouth, then turned away sharply, placing her hand on the door handle. Before she got out of the car, she turned back to look at him, her wobbly smile trying to match her polite expression.

  “Thank you, Erik. That’s all I was trying to say.”

  He watched as she closed the door behind her and heard his breath come out in a hiss. He’d been holding it? You’ve got to get away from this girl. The sooner, the better.

  He popped the trunk and met her at the back of the car. He was so preoccupied getting her bags out, he didn’t notice the man approaching them from the front entrance of the building.

  When he looked up, his heart dropped to his knees. Dr. Martin wasn’t the white-haired, wizened, old army doctor Erik had somehow expected him to be. He looked about thirty-five: tall, tan, lean and strong, with deep, warm dark brown eyes focused with happy fortune on Katrin Svenson.

  Erik’s brain turned on a dime to caveman mush, and all he could think as he closed the trunk with more force than required was:

  Screw “family friends.”

  I saw her first.

  ***

  “You must be Katrin!”

  The man approaching her was not what Katrin had expected. First of all, there’s no way his given surname was really “Martin” unless he had been adopted. His bronze skin, straight dark hair and deep brown eyes belied a Latino or Native American heritage, and why in the world hadn’t Ingrid mentioned he was so young and buff and good-looking?

  “Yes. I’m Katrin Svenson. Ingrid’s sister-in-law.”

  Dr. Martin put out his hand and Katrin took it in hers. He smiled at her easily, showing off a set of white, perfect teeth that matched the brightness of his white t-shirt, tucked into a pair of black jeans. “José Martinez.”

  “José? Ingrid told me–”

  “Oh, right! In the service, I went by Joe Martin. Just easier, you know? To assimilate. But, now that I’m home….”

  “I totally get it. It’s good to meet you, José. No scrubs, huh?” She looked him up and down with a grin.

  “Not for another week or two. When we open.” José looked up over her head at Erik Lindstrom. “And who’s this? Your bodyguard?”

  “Oh, sorry!” Katrin said, turning to glance at Erik, who, she couldn’t help but notice, looked a little forgotten and a lot annoyed. “This is Erik Lindstrom, who was kind enough to give me a lift. He’s a family friend.”

  Erik’s face snapped from José to her, eyes narrowing, lips tight. She tilted her head at him, as if to ask, What? What are you upset about? We’re friends, right?

  He stared at her a moment longer, looking disgruntled, then turned his attention to the doctor and shook his proffered hand. He still looked downright grumpy, and a little silly, holding her pink flowered duffel bag over his shoulder. She swallowed a grin.

  Crossing to Erik, she tugged on the bag to take it from him, but he lifted it a trifle higher, securing it more surely to his shoulder. “I promised Ingrid I’d check out everything before I headed out.”

  “Aw, Ingrid knows me,” José said. “Don’t worry! Are you headed back to Choteau tonight?”

  “No. I’m in law enforcement. In Kalispell. I’ll be around.”

  Katrin noticed the change in Erik’s tone, the set of his jaw, the way he thrust his chest forward. José had his hands on his hips and his eyes were cool and careful as they regarded Erik. Erik was taller by a good margin, thought Katrin, but their muscle mass looked about the same. She shook her head, feeling silly for comparing them.

  She placed a gentle hand on Erik’s arm, her fingers touching the blond hairs on his forearm gingerly, and looked back at José. “Maybe you can show us where I’m staying?”

  “Follow me, Nurse Svenson!”

  As Katrin followed José, Erik trailed grouchily behind, pulling her rolling pink suitcase along.

  José led them into the two-story, facade-style building with a front porch that had a swing on one side and a small table with three chairs on the other. José gestured to the table and chairs, then winked back at Katrin. “Our conference room!”

  “Chilly once winter comes!”

  “Oh, we’ll be all up and running by then. Long before. This was some sort of public records building at one point, but it hasn’t been used regularly in years. It’s a good location for the clinic, though.”

  They followed him inside, and Katrin got her first glimpse of the run-down, would-be clinic. A sparse, shabby front room would eventually serve as a reception and waiting room, but for now, it wasn’t much to look at. To the right, two doors led to, she assumed, examination rooms, and in the far left corner a staircase led to the second floor.

  José gestured to the right.

  “The workers start tomorrow. This dismal area will be our waiting room, and back behind there, see the two doors? One will be an examination room. The other leads to a hallway with two more examination rooms, a small office, and a lunch room which is covered with all manner of leftover office supplies, garbage, and debris. I suspect it might have also served as a kitchen at one point, but I haven’t been able to clear it out enough to see if there’s a sink and pipes back there. The building hasn’t been in use for a good ten years.”

  Katrin heard the Texas twang in his voice as he clapped his hands, rubbing them together with enthusiasm.
“But, many hands make light work, and we’ll have workers here this week. And then there’s me and you, of course.” His voice softened. “And Gabrielle.”

  “She your wife?” Erik asked, his voice low and dry.

  José scoffed, giving Erik a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh, I’m not married, Erik. Not yet.” He turned to Katrin. “Gabrielle is our other nurse. She’s a veteran too, like me. We served together for a while, and I recruited her all the way from New York.” He gestured to the stairs. “After you.”

  ***

  The apartment was sparse, but clean and filled with light, and reminded Katrin of the college dorm suites where she had visited friends when she was at nursing school. A small sitting room had a mismatched couch and chair, and the bright, clean kitchen area had a table for three, a small stove, fridge, and sink. Two bedrooms were simply furnished with a twin bed in each, nightstand, bureau and, Katrin noticed with pleasure, a rocking chair.

  “A rocking chair!” she said, settling into it, and smiling up at Erik. “Don’t you just love a rocking chair?”

  “More than life itself,” he mumbled. He placed her duffel bag on the bed and rolled the suitcase to the closet on the other side of the bed.

  José stood in the doorway, looking casually elegant, leaning against the doorframe with his bronzed arms crossed in stark contrast to the bright white of his t-shirt. He looked a little like a young and straight Ricky Martin, extremely cute and sexy, with his laughing eyes and ready smile. As if to prove her point, he smiled at Katrin, and she noticed that the laugh lines around his eyes were deep and many.

  “What do you think?” he asked. “Okay for a few months?”

  “More than okay!” She nodded at him, rocking. “It’s great.”

  “The town really wanted this clinic. Kalispell’s about thirty-five minutes away on a good day, much longer if the weather’s bad. That’s a long way if you need stitches or you’re going into anaphylaxis…or labor. It’ll be good to have somewhere closer.”

  “I haven’t bagged anyone in a while,” she admitted. “I was mostly working in maternity, not ER, so you take the anaphylaxis, and I’ll handle the labor.”

  “Deal. But you know what? It’ll all come back to you in a pinch. We can do some practice runs too, if you like.” He raised his eyebrows teasingly. “I’ll let you bag me.”

  Erik, who had crossed to the window and had his back to them, snorted then muttered something low under his breath. Katrin ignored Erik and chuckled at José, blushing. “Not necessary. As you say, I’m sure it’ll come back.”

  “Denied!” José put his hand over his heart, as if wounded, then sighed dramatically, smiling at her. “Okay. Well, why don’t you settle in? I’ll be downstairs. Maybe we’ll head out for a welcome-to-Skidoo Bay supper in a bit. Gabrielle should be back from her run any minute now.” He saluted Katrin once, then turned and headed down the stairs.

  Once he was gone, Katrin felt—felt—the energy in the room shift, and Erik turned around to face her, intense, icy eyes cold and narrow. “I’ll let you bag me? Welcome-to-Skidoo Bay supper? Is that guy for real? Doctor Martinez. More like Doctor Smarm-tinez. He’s a tool.”

  “Oh, please!” Katrin said, wondering if he was jealous and then telling herself to stop being an idiot. Erik wasn’t interested in her, or any other woman, for that matter—he’d made that clear. “He was just being silly. Friendly.”

  “Yeah, right. A little too friendly.”

  She opened the duffel and took out a picture of herself with Anna, which she placed on her bureau. “That wasn’t very nice. What you said.”

  “He didn’t hear me.”

  “I did.” Katrin met his eyes, trying to figure out what was going on. Was he really upset about José? It didn’t make any sense.

  Erik backed up against the windowsill, stuffing his hands into his pockets, eyes down.

  Katrin continued. “He’s not a tool.”

  “A little bit, he is.”

  He looked up and it was his sheepish grin under lowered lashes that was her undoing. She grinned back at him, even though she didn’t agree with him. God, you’re adorable. She turned her back to her bag and busied herself taking things out and laying them out on the bed.

  She didn’t hear him move, but she suddenly felt him behind her. Close. Maybe his warmth or his breathing tipped her off, but when she turned around, he was so close to her that her breasts brushed his chest and he inhaled sharply, looking down at her breasts, then back up to capture her eyes with his. Katrin stared, mesmerized by blue eyes lighter and cooler than her own, but she didn’t back up or look away. She didn’t move at all. Her heart raced and even though she wholly respected Erik’s declared boundary of a friends-only rapport with her, curiosity and attraction won out. She was almost breathless, waiting to see what he’d do next, wishing that she didn’t want him to reach out for her, touch her, give in to the sparks that leaped and crackled between them.

  He ran his tongue over his lips and stared at her hungrily. She met his gaze, unable to look away. He was so much taller than she, so much bigger, and with the bed directly behind her, she had a fleeting thought that his body would just about crush hers. He’d need to hold himself over her so that he wouldn’t—

  Kat, stop!!

  But, she couldn’t. The thought was already there in her head. Her belly filled with fluttery warmth at the thought of him covering her petite body with the heavy strength of his. The fantasy made her breathing labored, more deliberate.

  He leaned toward her and a small sound escaped her throat, breathy with longing, a cross between a whimper and a moan. Suddenly Erik jerked back, startled, staring at her with surprise. He shook his head like he was waking up from a dream, stepping back from her.

  “You better watch him,” he muttered, out of breath, holding her eyes from a foot away.

  I think I better watch you, she thought, releasing her held breath as disappointment coursed through her body, slumping her shoulders. Disappointment, yes. And, frustration too. More frustration than she knew what to do with.

  He turned back to the window, pushing the curtain aside, and ran his hands through his hair then shoved them in the back pockets of his jeans.

  He was pushing her away and it hurt, even though he’d been perfectly clear about his boundaries. It made her realize how much she didn’t want to be pushed away.

  “I think it’s time to say goodbye, Erik. I’m sure you’re anxious to get going.”

  She turned on her heel and headed out of the little bedroom, through the sitting room, and out to the stairs that led away from Erik Lindstrom.

  ***

  He was not anxious to get going, which meant that he had to get going as soon as humanly possible because he was completely turned around by this girl. Since the moment he met her, she’d been pulling at his heartstrings; it only got worse as he spent the afternoon with her.

  What just happened? What were you about to do? What the hell is the matter with you? He shook his head, angry with himself. What is it with you and this girl? You can barely be around her without—without… He turned and chased her to the stairs.

  “Kat!” he called, keeping his voice down so that Dr. Love wouldn’t overhear them.

  She turned on the second step and faced him with narrow eyes and pursed lips. Not happy.

  He leaned down, closer to her, trying to ignore the fresh scent that wafted up from her ponytail, and spoke softly, gently. “Hey, listen. I just think you better watch out for him. That’s all I was saying.”

  “Watch out for him?”

  “Dr. Martinez. Don’t you think it’s shady he changed his name? What else is he hiding?”

  “Don’t be silly! He did it to assimilate. He said so. Anyway, he’s Ing’s friend.”

  Erik frowned at her. “Well, he has a thing for you.”

  She tilted her head to the side, looking at him like he was crazy. “I met him all of five seconds ago!”

  “It is what i
t is, min Älskling.” His eyes widened in horror, but the words were out before he could stop them. Oh, crap!

  Her head jerked back like he had slapped her, and her voice was low and angry. “W-what did you call me?”

  “Nothing.” Crap. Crap. Crap.

  Katrin leaned forward until they were almost nose to nose and hissed, “You called me Älskling!”

  “It was a slip.” Erik shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. Craaaaaaaaaaaap.

  “Calling me your sweetheart was a slip?”

  He put his hands out in a “shush” motion, and muttered. “Yeah. I mean, no…it just—”

  “Slipped,” she cut him off, starting back down the stairs. After two steps, she turned back and fumed, “Whatever. You know what, Erik? It’s none of your business anyway.”

  “Well, I promised Ing that I’d—”

  “And you have. I’ve been safely delivered to José. He’s big and strong and I feel safe here. So frankly, whatever happens next isn’t your concern.” Her hands were on her hips, and her eyes challenged him to contradict her. “We’re just going to be friends, right?”

  Erik worked his jaw and looked at her pointedly before nodding once curtly.

  He almost missed the way her eyebrows furrowed for a second before she offered him a thin smirk. “Great. So, I’m here safely, friend. José seems super. More than capable. You can get going now. Thank you very much for the ride. I’ll be fine from here.”

  But he was worried. Not about her safety. She was right—the clinic seemed nice, the town was lovely, and she was far enough from Choteau that Wade wouldn’t be able to bother her. He didn’t understand why, and he hated like hell to admit it, but he needed to know that he was going to see her again. When he was going to see her again.

  “Have dinner with me next Sunday. Like at home.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized he’d said them.

  Crap again, all over the place! What are you doing? Asking her out on a date? Stop talking! Get in your car and drive away!