Taken by Love (Love in Bloom: The Bradens #7) Read online

  “Can’t you just treat me here? Please?” Mr. Mace pleaded.

  Part of her wanted to say, Yes, of course, but she hadn’t worked her ass off in medical school to come back to a town where she would treat boo-boos forever. Chicago. New York. Those were places she could have a strong, meaningful career.

  She met his gaze and once again felt the tug on her heartstrings. She remembered trick-or-treating at the Maces’ house and Mr. Mace dressing up as a mummy, wrapped head to toe in toilet paper, scaring off the kids as they approached the front door, and Mrs. Mace calling them back with promises of candy. Their son, Matt, had helped her fix a flat tire in the rain when she was seventeen and had skidded off the road because she was driving too fast, racing away from the gas station where the girls had teased her, and he’d told her to ignore the idiots.

  “Mr. Mace, in order for your doctor to properly evaluate and treat your symptoms, he needs to be the one evaluating you on a regular basis. Of course I will make sure that we have this under control today, but promise me you’ll follow up with your own doctor.”

  They deserved good medical care. They deserved to have it close to home.

  I deserve a life and a meaningful career.

  By the time they left the office with a promise of seeing their family doctor, Daisy was ready to drive him to the doctor’s office herself.

  Kevin Hague, one of the male nurses and Daisy’s lifelong best friend, popped his head into the room. Kevin had been shy and a little nerdy in high school. He was tall and lanky with thick glasses and more interested in academics than sports. He and Daisy made quite a pair, and not a day passed that Daisy wasn’t thankful for his friendship. “I know you’re heading out in five, but we’re way behind. Can you give us an extra fifteen minutes?” He waved three charts.

  “Sure. I swear, Kevin, if this town doesn’t get a doctor soon, there will be no one left to care for. They’d all rather die than drive forty-five minutes.” Daisy had been working extra hours whenever she could to keep from going stir crazy, earn a little extra money, and always with the hope of handling an interesting case—which she knew was a terrible thing to hope for.

  “You could fix that, you know. Hang a shingle outside your door. Take over where Doc Waxman left off.”

  She glared at him.

  “Right. No way, no how. Pick a file.” He held three files up, then whispered, “Pick the middle one.” He flashed a mischievous grin that lit up his dark eyes.

  “Okay. The middle one it is, but if this is another drunk guy who needs an IV like last time, you’re dead.” She snagged the file.

  “You’ll love me this time. Exam room four.”

  Daisy buried her nose in the file as she walked into exam room four. “Okay, let’s see…Luke Brad—” Oh God.

  “Dr. Honey, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  She cleared her throat to try to gain control of her racing pulse as the room grew ten degrees hotter. Luke didn’t even have to try to look sexy. It was so unfair. Sitting on the exam table in his dangerously low-riding Levi’s, tanned and muscled arms practically bursting through his shirt, with a lazy smile and absolutely zero visible signs of discomfort or tension, he looked relaxed as hell, while she could barely think straight.

  Bastard.

  Sexy bastard.

  “The shot?” Luke reminded her.

  She closed the file and tried slipping into physician mode again. Not so easy the second time around. “Tetanus. Let me just go get the shot. I’ll be right back.”

  His eyes widened in an amused fashion as she stole out of the door and into the supply room, where she leaned against the door, palms flat on the cold wood, and took several deep breaths. She knew he’d seen how flustered she was at seeing him again. Oh, come on. No, he didn’t.

  “What the hell is wrong with me? Pull it together.” She smoothed her lab coat and reminded herself that he was just a patient. A hot, alluring patient who I want to pull into the stockroom and make out with. Holy moly, Daisy. Pull it together. She grabbed what she needed to administer the shot, and with one final deep breath, she headed back to the exam room.

  Surely he wasn’t that hot. She was just used to the Trusty men, who were, in all fairness, pretty damn hot since they worked on farms and ranches, or were mechanics and used to hard work. But they weren’t the smartest tools in the shed, and that was something that Daisy couldn’t overlook. She tended to lose interest in those who weren’t pushing to better themselves. It was a flaw of hers, and she was aware of it, but she’d never been able to squelch it. She knew Luke was bright. All the Bradens were, and well educated to boot. Oh boy. Not helping. She was here for only a few weeks. She didn’t need to fall into Luke Braden’s bed and become another name on a long list of women he’d conquered, even if he was ten times as hot as she remembered, with a body that she wouldn’t mind being pinned beneath and a voice that made her tingle all over. She hesitated as she reached for the doorknob. Wasn’t she doing just what she’d spent her life fighting against? Was she judging him based on hearsay? Eleven-year-old hearsay?

  Yes, she decided. She was doing just that, and that wasn’t fair at all. At least that’s what she told herself.

  She passed Kevin on the way out of the supply closet and grabbed the back of his scrubs. He turned with a tease in his green eyes.

  “Do you love me?” Kevin asked with a conspiratorial grin.

  “I’m not sure if I hate you or love you, but right now I can barely remember my name, so I’m leaning toward the hate side.”

  “That means you owe me one. Brunette, please; stacked is good, too.” He sighed. “You do know that you’re hotter than him, right? Remember that when you go in there. He should be more nervous than you. Brains and beauty. Killer combo.”

  God, I love you. Kevin was, without a doubt, the best friend a girl could have, and if there were a nice enough woman around to set him up with, she’d do it in a heartbeat, but right now, she had a shot to give.

  With a deep breath, she entered the room. Yup, still damn hot. “Okay, you’re not afraid of needles, are you?”

  “A gorgeous woman wielding a needle? Not a chance.”

  She felt her cheeks flush despite his cheesy line. She moved his arm away from his lap, feeling his pulse while she was at it. Damn him. He was calm as could be. “I’m just going to clean you up before I give you the shot.”

  “You seem to spend a lot of time cleaning me up.”

  Oh…I don’t mind. She swabbed the area in preparation for the shot. “Ready?” One look into his eyes had her stomach fluttering.

  “Always.” He narrowed his eyes and flashed that flirtatious grin again, the one loaded with sensual promise. He held her gaze for a beat longer, sending a shiver down her spine.

  She gave him the shot and then forwent the urge to redress his wound in order to prolong their visit. She’d spent years fighting her reputation. She didn’t need to kill it in one night.

  “Okay. You should be good to go.”

  He didn’t move. A slow smile crept across his lips again. This one was friendly, less flirtatious. He looked down at his hands, and in that moment, he looked…wholesome, which took her by surprise.

  “Thanks, Daisy.” He hopped off the exam table and stood way too close to her.

  Daisy lifted her eyes from his broad chest and shoved her hands into the pockets of her lab coat to keep from reaching out and touching him. That’s it. She needed to find someone—or something—to settle her hormones. Someone nonthreatening. Someone who wouldn’t talk about it. She swallowed hard, knowing it would be a battery-operated friend or no one at all, and both choices sucked.

  “Hey, um…Would you like to have a drink later?” he asked tentatively. It drew her eyes right to his, which held hope rather than flirtation and reeled her right in.

  “Drinks?”

  He shrugged. “Or dinner? Whatever. I thought maybe we could hang for a while.”

  Hang for a while. She didn’t trust herse
lf to hang for a while with Luke Braden. She was too revved up.

  “I…um. I need to visit my dad tonight.”

  His eyes filled with disappointment, followed by a telltale shrug. “Your dad? You don’t have to make up an excuse. You can just say you’re not interested.”

  He reached for the door and she reached for his arm, surprising herself.

  “My dad fell off his tractor and hurt his back. I really do have to visit him.” Why was she explaining this to him when she should be walking the other way? She was here for only a few more weeks, so nothing could come of it, anyway.

  “I’m sorry. I thought…Usually, if a girl’s not interested, she’ll make up an excuse like that.” He ran his hand over his eyes. “I know your dad. I should have put two and two together. Jesus, I’m sorry.”

  “I’d just say I’m not interested if I wasn’t interested.”

  “So…You are interested?”

  She wasn’t ready for this. She’d been waiting for an invitation like this from him for years. She was playing with fire—her own fire that desperately needed tending.

  “I…didn’t say that either.” Shitshitshit. She contemplated asking him about Margie’s comment, but seeing as her mouth and brain weren’t working so well together at the moment, she held back.

  “Right.” The smile he flashed this time was a genuine one, without a hidden agenda, and she liked it.

  She knew she was giving him mixed signals. Hell, she was giving herself mixed signals. Oh, the heck with it. “I probably won’t be with my dad that long. Why don’t we go out for drinks after I see him?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Her heart slammed against her chest, as if she’d just won a date with her high school crush. Sadly, she’d been so busy avoiding her rep in high school that she never had time to think about crushing on anyone. She wrote down her phone number and the address of the apartment she’d rented for the next few weeks. Maybe this was what happened when a person spent their life working hard to keep a clean rep and combat a fake one—one day they just went off the deep end and went out with the most gorgeous, troublesome person they could find. She rolled her eyes at her internal thought and glanced at Luke again. This time with clearer judgment, she hoped. She held the paper with her information on it against her chest.

  “Wait. The trouble that Margie mentioned? Should I worry? Did you hurt anyone? Run drugs?”

  He held her gaze and knitted his brows together. But he didn’t appear angry or guilty. He looked annoyed, as if he’d been asked that very question one too many times. Knowing Trusty gossip, he probably had.

  Luke sighed. “No, no, and no. Listen, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

  He held her stare for a beat longer, and despite the full-body shudder that ran through her, despite seeing that he looked at her with the same desire she felt humming through her, something told her to trust him. Oh boy. I’m really playing with fire. She handed him her number.

  “If you’re going to buy me drinks, you have to buy me dinner, because after working here all day, I’m starved.”

  “Dinner it is,” he said with a smile, which faded quickly when he continued. “I’m not dangerous, Daisy. At least not in the ways that are running through your mind.” He looked at his watch.

  “Um, I need at least an hour to see my parents and shower.” And figure out how to stop being so damn nervous.

  “I’m easy. Want to text me when you’re ready?”

  Why did I’m easy make her stomach quiver? “Sure, but I need your number.”

  He glanced down at the paper, then patted his arm where she’d given him the shot. “I’ll text you so you’ll have it. Well, Daisy Honey, thank you for taking care of my needs once again.”

  Oh shit, I’m in big trouble.

  Chapter Three

  DAISY BREEZED INTO her parents’ house with the cake she’d been thinking about all day. She found her father in his recliner—where, from what she understood, he was spending far too much time since his accident. He wore his signature attire: a pair of Wrangler jeans and a plaid button-down shirt. His light brown hair was thinning on top and graying on the sides, and his blue eyes were as dark as Daisy’s and her mother’s were bright. He had always been the rock of the family. The provider, the quiet strength that kept them grounded and safe. It saddened her to see how his skin had already lost the sun-kissed glow of working outside from dawn until dusk, and his face was no longer a mask of determination but one of defeat and irritation, which she knew came from the pain he was in. Though the specialists had given him a solid prognosis for recovery, it was unlikely that he’d ever have the ability to go sunup until sundown doing what he loved most—working his hay fields.

  “Hi, Dad. I brought you and Mom a cake. Did you get outside today?” Though her father was too prideful to allow Daisy to examine him, she’d seen the MRIs and X-rays. She considered their family lucky that his accident hadn’t been worse than a sprain.

  “Hello, darlin’.” David Honey was adept at avoiding questions he didn’t care to answer.

  Daisy sat on the couch. “Dad, you’re not paralyzed. You fell off the tractor a few weeks ago, and granted, you strained your back and you had pain and swelling, but you didn’t break your back. You’ve been through the worst of it, and it would do you good to get outside and walk. I wish you’d at least try.” She’d learned the hard way that in every situation there really was a silver lining, just as the rumors she’d endured in high school had made her stronger, more determined. She wished her father would dig deeper and find the same determination against his injury so he could move forward.

  “Daisy, this looks almost too good to eat.” Susan, Daisy’s mother, joined them in the living room. She and Daisy shared the same natural blond hair, and it felt strange to sit with her mother and know they no longer looked so similar. She reached up and touched the ends of her hair as she took in the dark bags under her mother’s eyes and listened to the fatigued sigh at the end of her sentences. Her father hadn’t been sleeping well since his accident. Between the pain and the severe change to a sedentary lifestyle, he often spent hours awake at night, which in turn, meant that Susan did, too.

  “I’ve been thinking about this cake all day.” That was a fib. Luke had stolen her thoughts ever since she’d picked up—and dropped—the cake.

  Her mother touched her knee. “You’d eat chocolate for breakfast if I let you.” She slid her tired eyes to David. “You too. Daisy, did I ever tell you about when you were little and we had leftover cake?”

  Daisy smiled. “Only a hundred times.”

  “I can’t tell you how many times I came downstairs to find you wrist deep in cake and beaming like a sunflower. And your father, Mr. Mind-Your-Manners-and-Don’t-Talk-Back turned into Mr. Softy when it came to chocolate.”

  “All I said was that there were worse things in life than eating too much cake, and if that was the worst she ever did, we’d be lucky.”

  Her mother rolled her eyes. Daisy cringed, because she had left a trail of teenage trouble when she left for college. She’d never done the things the rumors claimed she’d done, but she’d snuck out with Kevin—always with Kevin—tried smoking, drank too much—and got home safely, thanks to Kevin, who never drank or smoked—but in the end, she’d grown up, like kids inevitably did.

  “I can’t picture Dad even saying that. You were always so strict with me.”

  Her father dug into his cake. “Were?”

  “A girl can dream.” Her father had always been strict with her, but he—and the rumors that pushed her to prove herself—were the driving forces behind her 3.9 GPA. When he wasn’t working in the fields, he was working in his office. Daisy hadn’t realized until she was in medical school how his work ethic had worn off on her.

  “Let’s not go down that road tonight,” her mother said as she touched her father’s leg.

  “How’s it going at the clinic?” her father asked.

  “Good. Busy. Y
ou know.” Daisy was anxious to get to her date. Her father seemed okay, even if tired and disinterested in taking an active part of his recovery. She’d have to work on that.

  “And you’re doing a good job?” he asked.

  Her mother shot him a look that clearly said, I can’t believe you asked her that.

  Daisy sighed. No. I’m a dolt. “Of course.”

  Her father gave her a stern nod.

  Nope, there was no way that Daisy could reconcile that serious face with one softening toward a younger Daisy elbow deep in cake. She needed to shift the conversation away from herself.

  “Dad, when’s John coming to cut the hay? Shouldn’t it be done by now?” John Waller owned a farm down the road, and he had been helping her father since his injury.

  Her father gazed out the window with a heavy sigh. She knew this was hard on him, not being able to work his own farm and care for his family in the ways he always had.

  “He said he’d be here tomorrow.” He pressed his lips.

  “Should we call him? Just to be sure?” Daisy asked. She caught a stilted shake of her mother’s head and knew she’d struck a nerve. She’d brought the cake, hoping to brighten her parents’ evening, but she knew that nothing would lift the cloud that loomed above them until by some miracle her father could resume his ability to work—which she feared was never going to happen—or he gave up control and found someone to run the farm.

  “We aren’t going to do anything.” Her father turned stern eyes to her. “I will handle this, just like I always have.”

  “Okay, but I’m here if you need help, and you know I know how to do all the things you need done.”

  “Of course I do. I taught you.” He’d taught Daisy how to do everything from seeding and cutting to baling and selling, and now, as an adult, she looked back and treasured the time she’d spent with him, even if she used to wish she was doing anything other than learning about farming.