Unexpectedly Yours(9)

He touched her cheek. "I don't want things to get weird between us."

So he was feeling the same confusion. Thank God he was leaving today. It  would be a while before they bumped into each other again, and  hopefully by then this awkwardness between them would have worn off.

"No, I'm fine," she lied. She tossed back her hair in an effort to show nonchalance. "Drive safely."

Derek stared at her for a long while like he was trying to memorize her face. "I will. Take care of yourself, Hannah."   





 

Suddenly there was a lump in her throat, and she couldn't swallow it away. "You too," she whispered.

He wrapped his arms around her in a quick hug and left without a word,  shutting the door quietly behind him. She heard his SUV starting up, and  as the sound of the motor faded away, she hugged her bathrobe closer to  her.

Last night had been incredible fun, but it was over, and she had to deal  with reality now. She had to pretend that nothing had ever happened,  that Derek was still just her brother's friend. The thought of Caleb  made her bite her lip.

With her mom's apathy and her dad's long-haul trucking, she and Caleb  had relied on each other from a young age. She was the sensible older  sister he depended upon, and he was the cheeky young brother she could  count on for a smile. They had grown closer since their dad had  remarried. Rosalind was a friendly stepmom, but she'd changed the  dynamics in the family, and sometimes Hannah needed an ally in Caleb.  She couldn't imagine looking her kid brother in the eye and admitting  she'd slept with his best friend.

And Caleb was due here for dinner tomorrow. His construction job took  him out of town for much of the time, but he returned to Pine Falls as  often as he could. She'd have to get her game face on by tomorrow night  if she didn't want to give herself away.

She ran upstairs, taking them two at a time, eager to get on with her  day and put Derek to the back of her mind. But when she reached her  bedroom, crumpled sheets and condom wrappers confronted her. She hurried  to restore her room to order, stripping the linen off her bed, stuffing  the trash into a garbage can, tossing her clothes from last night into  the laundry hamper.

She jumped into the shower and spent forever soaping, shampooing,  scrubbing. There were hickies on her lower neck, and a crushed, sensuous  look to her mouth. She hoped like hell no one at work would notice,  especially not her boss. Her shift started at seven, and she had no time  for breakfast or even a cup of coffee.

She drove out to Avalon House, her battered Ford giving a few more  chokes and belches than usual. She couldn't afford a better car; she was  saving every penny for when she started college.

As part of their divorce settlement, Rick had agreed to give Hannah a  lump sum that would cover half her college fees, though the check hadn't  arrived yet and she wasn't expecting it anytime soon. She could have  fought for more or to get the money upfront, but all she'd wanted was to  get him out of her life as quickly as possible. Especially when she'd  learned that he had been cheating on her for at least a year and blown a  small fortune on strippers and hotel rooms and expensive gifts. How  many "girlfriends" had he brought to their condo, and how many pieces of  furniture had he defiled? Which was why she hadn't wanted anything from  the condo either, except for her personal possessions.

She arrived at Avalon House with two minutes to spare and hurried into  the building, but before she'd even made it to the locker room, she was  waylaid by Vera, the nurse manager. The woman, immaculate in a spotless  navy blue suit, peered at Hannah over her spectacles, her mouth set in a  disapproving line.

"You're late."

The clock on the wall showed one minute to seven, but Hannah nodded.  Usually she was at work at least fifteen minutes before she was due.

"Sorry." She had no excuse. She could hardly say she was late because  she'd had to clean up after a one-night stand of epic proportions. "It  won't happen again."

Vera's mouth compacted even further into a thin, red line. "Make sure it doesn't." She sailed off without another word.

Sighing, Hannah entered the locker room to store her belongings. She'd  been meaning to ask Vera for an extra shift on the weekends, but she was  still on probation, and the nurse manager was distinctly cool toward  her.

It didn't help that Avalon House catered to very wealthy clients, and  Hannah didn't have much experience working in a nursing home. She was  more used to the rough and tumble of a public hospital, and maybe she  didn't have the proper refined manner for Avalon House. But this was the  best job for her circumstances because it was nearby, the pay rate was  relatively good, and all the other jobs on offer had been miles away.  Beggars couldn't be choosers. Hannah could only hope that Vera would  unbend once she'd proven herself.



Derek drove the short distance back to his granddad's place still  thinking about Hannah. She'd been kinda jumpy when she bundled him out  of the house. Maybe she regretted spending the night with him. He sure  didn't. In fact, the highlights reel of last night kept playing in the  back of his mind. If only he wasn't leaving today. But no, that was  wishful thinking because even if he stayed, Hannah had made it very  clear from the start that it was a one-time thing. That thought made his  jaw clamp, and when he parked his car he jerked on the brake with  unnecessary force.   





 

He was still brooding as he entered the house. A cool breeze eddied  around him, indicating the back door was open. He walked through to the  kitchen, saw the door was indeed ajar, and went to shut it when  something on the floor caught his attention. A chair lay on its side,  while a plate had fallen to the ground and cracked into bits, the food  it had held-some chicken and mashed potatoes-smeared across the floor  tiles.

Derek's blood ran cold.

"Grandpa!"

He hurried to the living room-empty-then ran down the hallway, checking  the bathroom-empty too-until he reached his granddad's bedroom at the  back of the house. He pushed open the door to see his grandfather  slumped across the bed, his plastered leg sticking out at an awkward  angle. He put out a hand to the old man's ankle and breathed a sigh of  relief as he registered the warmth in the bony leg. The old man was  asleep, though he hadn't managed to draw the covers over him or change  into his pajamas, since he was still dressed in yesterday's clothing.

Derek leaned closer. A faint bruise darkened one of his grandpa's  cheeks, and a fresh cut scored his vein-gnarled hand, dried blood  spotting the papery skin. Derek's initial relief quickly disappeared.  His grandfather might be alive, but he'd obviously suffered a fall last  night when trying to get his dinner.

Last night Derek had cooked dinner for both of them, but Otto had  refused to eat, complaining that the chicken was too spicy and the  mashed potatoes too lumpy. Derek had wrapped the leftover plate of food  in cling film and stored it in the refrigerator. After cleaning up the  kitchen, he'd asked his grandfather if he wanted to watch TV, but Otto  had told him to go away and leave him alone. So Derek had prepared to go  out, telling Otto to call him on his cell phone if there was any  problem.

Well, the old man had had a problem, and hadn't called him, instead  choosing to drag himself into bed where he'd suffered all night-alone.

"Stubborn old coot," Derek couldn't help muttering, overcome with frustration and guilt.

Otto's eyelids flickered open. "What did you call me, boy?" He sounded slurred but cranky as usual.

"You fell in the kitchen." Derek pointed at the bruise and the cut. "Why  didn't you call me? My number's programmed into your handset. You just  have to press one."

"Why should I call you? I got myself to bed, didn't I?"

"How long did that take you?" Anxiety sharpened in him. "And how long were you lying on the damn kitchen floor?"

His grandfather glowered at him. "Don't you cuss at me."

Derek bit back a retort. Now was not the time to pick an argument with  the ornery man. "I'm going to call Dr. Hooper and get him to come by and  check you out."

"No." Otto reared up, flailing one hand. "I'm not having that pipsqueak poking at me for no good reason."

"But you fell. You might have hurt yourself, broken something." Derek  cast a worried look over his grandfather's lean figure. If only Hannah  were here. She'd know how to deal with the situation.

"It's just a few scratches. I've had worse."

Otto was a Vietnam vet. He never spoke about the war, never brought out  any mementos, never commemorated it, never got drunk or bitter or  sentimental about it. He kept it all inside him, nothing to show for his  ordeal except a long, angry red scar down the length of his right  forearm. Now, he waved that arm impatiently at Derek. "Help me up, will  you. Need to take a leak."

Derek assisted him to the bathroom. It was slow progress. Otto didn't  like him hovering too close or standing guard outside the bathroom.  Eventually they shuffled back to Otto's bedroom, where he consented to  letting Derek help him into bed.