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Without the benefit of lab reports, he couldn’t treat the patient more aggressively. And since the definitive treatment for an MI was catheterization, Joe’s one job was to keep the guy alive.

The man looked ashen and his breathing had become more difficult. Joe repositioned his head for better airway and increased the oxygen one liter. oxygen sats stank. Then he checked his blood pressure, which was even lower than previously, but assumed it could be due to the nitro and morphine.

The heart monitor started alarming. Damn it, the guy was crashing. At times like these Joe felt frustrated with his role as a gap-filler until the patient got to the ER and could be hit with all the fancy lifesaving drugs. If only the ambulance could get there faster.

When the monitor went to flatline, Joe immediately started CPR, and continued to do so for the last five minutes of the ride to the clinic and the ambulance entrance where the medical big guns waited.

Unfortunately for the patient, medically the future didn’t look too bright. In an oddball nonmedical way, Joe could relate.

Joe parked the car in his garage, closed the door, and headed into his house from the backyard entrance on Saturday morning. He hated how the house had felt since Carey had moved out yesterday. Had it only been yesterday? It seemed more like a month or a year even since he’d last seen her. Before, there had been this incredible life force radiating from her room. Today all he felt when he walked near it was his energy getting zapped by pain and regret. Well, he planned to save himself the angst and head right to his room to sleep.

After the stress of that morning, with the Hollywood movie tycoon who’d wound up dying despite all emergency measures, he felt dejected and needed to sleep. It seemed typical of issues of the heart, and maybe even a metaphor for his own life lately, especially where his relationship with Carey was concerned, and with all the practical training in the world he still couldn’t fix his own messed-up heart. Come to think of it, he might tear a page from Carey’s story—a short-term coma would be a good thing right about now.

As usual, with any downtime, Carey was foremost on his mind. The word “coma” brought unwanted thoughts about a lady he’d once sat vigil for at her bedside. What had he done? He’d lost her. Sent her away. He unloaded the contents of his cargo pockets onto his dresser top then dug out his cell phone.

Wait a second. He’d worked all night and hadn’t turned on his personal phone so he’d missed a text from Carey. He was so tired he squinted to read it.

It’s a girl. Latest sonogram. Yes!

The words nearly brought him to his knees. Little Spencer was a girl. Carey didn’t have anyone in her life to share the news with but him. A sudden feeling of sadness punched his gut. He’d been so selfishly focused he hadn’t considered what moving out had meant for her. She’d volunteered to go and, like a wuss, he’d let her.

She deserved so, so much more. Yet, with all the bad things life had dealt her, she insisted on being upbeat. Yes! she’d written. The text was short but so touching, and all he wanted to do was find her and hold her and tell her how he really felt.

It wasn’t going to happen. It wasn’t possible.

He should leave well enough alone.

His house had never felt so big or empty since she’d moved out. Only yesterday! Damn, it already felt like a year. How would he go on without her?

“You did the right thing,” he said aloud, glancing into the mirror above his dresser. He had to believe it because otherwise he’d go crazy. He was so messed up. Carey and the baby only would have left at some point anyway, so it was better it had happened sooner rather than later, and as his idea, not hers. In a childish way he admitted it felt better to have forced the change because he couldn’t have survived Carey leaving him. By his spin, sending her away had been the most unselfish thing he’d done in his life.

Besides, she deserved a man with more to offer, someone without baggage like his. Anger, mistrust, suspicion, yeah, he was good at those sorry emotions. She’d had all of that tossed in her face long before she’d met him, beginning with her father and ending with that scumbag Ross. It was Carey’s time to catch a break. He’d given it to her by pushing her out the door. Because he knew she was the special kind of woman who would have stuck around, put up with his sorry attitude, and tried to make the best of things if he hadn’t made her leave. Beyond a laundry list of the ways she’d be better off without him, the main reason still stood out. He’d come around enough to know that Carey was nothing like Angela. He could trust what she said and did. She was as stable as they came, despite her tough life before coming to L.A. The issue was still with him.

He thought about her ultrasound and the fact her baby was a girl. The crux of the matter was that he would never know what it was like to have a woman he loved carry his baby. A kid who might look like him. And he was too damn messed up to get over it.

Better to set her free now before it got even more difficult because, honestly, he hadn’t been prepared for the level of pain her leaving had unleashed. Sometimes he could barely breathe.

He thought about what he’d said to her the other night and cringed. He’d been harsh, insisting he couldn’t get past his wife cheating on him, and he’d held it against a completely innocent person. What sense did that make?

He flopped, back first, onto his mattress, hands behind his head, praying sleep would find him and put him out of this torture, if only for a few hours. He’d tried to make peace with his decision about letting Carey go, but deep down something still didn’t feel right.

Why, even now—when she’d found a great place to live, from what he’d heard floating around at work, and when she had nothing but good things to look forward to, a solid job, the upcoming arrival of her little baby girl, a bright future—things didn’t feel right to him.

Why did he still have the foreboding sense she needed his protection?

He squeezed his eyes tight. Go to sleep. Just go to sleep. You’re getting delusional from lack of rest.

He was bound to settle down soon because his body was completely drained and his mind so weary he could barely put two coherent thoughts together. Yeah, he’d get some sleep today, he promised himself. But first he needed a glass of water. So he hopped off the bed and headed to the kitchen for a drink.

Carey wanted to scold herself for accidentally taking Lori’s clothes along with her when she’d packed the few meager possessions she owned and had moved out. Joe’s sister had been nice enough to loan her some jeans and tops when she’d first moved in with zero belongings left to her name. Now she’d have to face him again, as painful as that would be, to return them. Truth was it had hurt to the core when he hadn’t even bothered to reply to her text about her baby being a girl. She guessed he’d already moved on. Didn’t care. Hadn’t he said all she did was remind him of what he’d never have?

An ache burrowed deeply into her chest, not only for herself but for him, too. She still loved the guy. Had she imagined every good thing about Joe, or was this just how it felt to lose him? She was positive she’d never get over him, and had missed him every second since she’d moved out.

Mid-morning, she parked the rental car across the street from his house on the small cul-de-sac, thinking the car was another topic she had to bring up with Joe. As soon as she found a used car she could afford, she’d make sure this one got returned to Mr. Matthews. She wanted to make sure Joe knew she didn’t expect to keep this car forever. Just for a little longer. She promised.

She reached around to the backseat and grabbed the tote bag with Lori’s clothes inside. Carey had gotten the bag from the clinic the day she’d been discharged and Joe had taken her in. She’d almost slipped up and thought “home” the day when Joe had taken her home. Because that was how it’d felt when she’d walked through that door with him. She glanced at the small sage-green house across the street. Yes, he’d been a stranger then, but he’d saved her life and then kept vigil beside her hospital bed, and she’d never felt more protected or safe in her life than when she’d lived with him.

With the bag in her hand, she got out of the car and battled a feeling of half hope and half fear that Joe would be home. She’d left her house key the night she’d moved out. If he wasn’t home now, she’d leave the items on the porch and make a quick getaway. On second thoughts, he’d been working so much it was possible he was sleeping and the last thing she wanted to do was wake him up. Maybe she’d just leave the bag on the lounger on his deck and not even attempt to face him right now. If she snuck off without seeing him, she’d save her lovelorn heart a whole lot of grief.

She started down the driveway, getting halfway to the kitchen-window area when she caught herself. This was cowardly. She was a big girl now. She needed to face him if he was home, though there was no sign of his car so she made a one-eighty-degree turn and headed back toward the front of the house, stunned to find a man she’d never expected to see again only a few feet away.

Ross.

How had he found her? How had he known where she’d been living? A chill zipped down her spine and her stomach felt queasy.

Then it hit her. He was the one who’d sent the flowers. How had he...? Oh, wait, he knew how to manipulate people, especially women, and had probably gotten the work address out of Polly in the employee relations department back in Chicago. Carey had been in touch with her regularly since she’d arrived in Hollywood—first to let the hospital know about her situation and to take a leave of absence, then to set up receiving her backdated pay checks, and eventually to give notice on the job and to collect her unused vacation pay. What a fool she’d been to think he wouldn’t find her.

She’d thought she’d been so careful, but nothing seemed to be beyond Ross’s reach. The bastard. After the quick flash of fear at seeing him she went directly into anger. The creep had another thought coming if he planned to mess up her life again. She was in control now, in no small part thanks to Joe, and Ross was powerless.

He kept his distance. Even held his hands up, all the while watching her, like a prowling animal waiting to pounce. “I know what you’re probably thinking,” he said, trying to sound appeasing. “What am I doing here?” He gave a poor excuse for a smile that looked more like an insincere politician’s than a former lover’s.

“I don’t want to see you. Leave. Now.”

Quickly his expression changed to that of a mistreated puppy. “I’m sorry. I’ve come to tell you I’m sorry. I love you. We can still be happy together. Make a life together.”

“Ha! That’s rich. You wanted me to get rid of my baby. That’s not going to happen. There’s nothing further to talk about.”

She looked at Ross, tall, dark, and had she really used to think he was handsome? All he looked like now was a creep she needed to get rid of. Fast. He’d abused her, both mentally and physically. Had wanted her to have an abortion, had shoved money into her hand to do it, too.

She thought about Ross’s polar opposite, Joe, and all he’d tried to do for her. How hard it must have been for him to show up at the prenatal appointments, to be the first one she shared the first sonogram with, when never being able to become a father had still been eating away at him. The moment he’d slid into that chair beside her in the parenting class had nearly made her heart burst with gratitude. He’d acted the part of being a father, even when he’d believed he would lose her and the baby, as if his past was bound to repeat itself. Yet he’d shown up and stuck with it, for her, and had never let on about the pain he must have suffered because of it. Oh, God, he was her true hero—a man to be worshipped, adored and loved. With all of her heart. And she did. She loved him.

Facing Ross, right now, she knew without a doubt what her true feelings were for Joe. Yet Joe had convinced her to walk out on him. And she’d gone because he’d looked so tortured by her being there.

She stood before Ross, a shadow of a man standing by the driveway hedge, feeling completely alone. All she wanted to do was go inside Joe’s house where she’d always felt safe, and close and lock the door. Forever. On Ross.

She kept her distance, not trusting him for one second, but Ross took a single step forward.

She’d never let herself be a victim again and he’d have to hear her out. “You need to know I’ve finally experienced a good relationship. I know for a fact there are good, loving and caring men in the world who put their partners first. I never learned that from you, but now I have faith in the world again. In myself.” She touched her heart. “You wanted to control me and tear me down to keep me under your thumb. I may have let you before but I never will again.” To show how serious she was, and to prove she wasn’t afraid of him anymore, she took a step forward but still kept safely out of his reach, then stared him down. “You need to leave L.A. I’ll never go back to you. Never.”

Ross’s expectant-puppy expression soon turned to one of defeat. Did he think he could just show up and everything would be fine again? Was he that out of touch with reality? Or had it proved once and for all how he truly had zero respect for her.

Something she’d said must have gotten through to him because he actually turned to leave. Carey took a breath for the first time in several seconds. But just as quickly he turned back, lunging toward her with the look of pure rage in his demon eyes.

His first mistake had been showing up uninvited in California. His second mistake was to grab her wrist and clamp down hard enough to cut off her blood supply, then raise his other hand ready to slap her.

Instead of pulling away, fighting mad, Carey growled and steamrolled into him. Catching him off guard, her knee connected full force with his groin, the V of her free hand ramming with all her might smack into his larynx. Everything Joe had taught her about self-defense came rushing back with a vengeance.

Ross doubled over in pain, unable to gasp or shout. And, of course, he’d let go of her wrist. Shocked she’d actually pulled it off, Carey stood there dazed for one second, her body covered in goose bumps, staring at him while he writhed in pain on the driveway.

Well, plan A had worked like a charm. What was she supposed to do next?

Run! Run for the car and get the hell out of there. She turned to make her getaway, but slammed into a brick wall of a man.

CHAPTER TEN

JOE CAME FLYING out of the kitchen door the instant he’d seen the man lunge for Carey. He’d watched the whole encounter between the guy who must be Ross and Carey, the woman he loved and his new superhero, from the window above the kitchen sink.

He’d known Carey needed to face down her demon once and for all, and he’d been ready to pounce if she’d needed him. So, as hard as it had been, he’d stayed on the ready just around the corner and waited. She’d stood up to the man, not wavering for a second. When twisted reasoning hadn’t panned out, the guy had lunged at her. Joe had rushed through the back door and flown outside, but she’d beaten him to the punch. Like a pro, she’d taken down her attacker. It had impressed the hell out of Joe, too. Great going.

Pride for Carey mixed with pure fear that she could have been hurt by the bastard from her past made him take her in his arms and hold tight. She didn’t fight it either, just leaned into him.

“You okay?”

She nodded, then pulled back to look into his eyes. “Did you see that? I decked him! Thanks to you.”

He laughed, all the while watching Ross, who slowly began to get onto his hands and knees.

“Do as Carey says, just stand up and leave. Don’t ever come back,” he said, with Carey safely tucked under one arm, ready, if necessary to take the matter into his own hands if the guy made so much as a hint of a move in the wrong direction.

Now Ross stood, anger still plainly carved in his face.

“The police will be here shortly,” Joe said. “I called when I first saw you. She’s also got a restraining order out on you in case you ever get any ideas about coming around again. Consider it your ‘go-straight-to-jail’ card and this is your final warning.”

Ross took one look at Joe, saw the don’t-even-think-about-messing-with-me stare and took off, running to the street and back toward Santa Monica Boulevard.

With arms still wrapped around each other, they watched him disappear round the corner.

“I don’t have a restraining order out on him,” Carey said.

“He doesn’t know that.”

“And the police, are they coming?”

“Again, he doesn’t need to know I was just about to call when I saw you kick his ass, so I hung up to help you.” Joe flashed Carey a proud grin. “You were the bomb, babe.”

She laughed. “You taught me everything I know.”

He pulled her near and hugged her tight. God, he’d missed her. To think he’d almost let her get away sent shivers through his chest. “You’re all right? Let me see your wrist, it looked like he had a firm grip.” He checked out the area around her thin wrist, which was reddened and showing signs of early bruising. Like a dope, he kissed it because it was the only thing he could think to do, and he wanted more than anything for Carey to understand how precious she was to him. “You need to know something. I said things the other night that were horrible and not true. The only person you remind me of is you, and I never want to lose you. Or your daughter.”

She disengaged her wrist from his hands so she could stroke his cheek. Looking into his eyes with her soft green stare, she smiled. He got the distinct message she had a few things to clear up with him, too.

“I never want to lose you either. Standing up to Ross just now made me realize he was the one who should feel ashamed, not me. That dark past I dragged out here needs to stay in Chicago with that loser. It shouldn’t have any influence over me or my future. I’ve started over again. That ugly shadow is gone for good.”

He believed her, too. She stood before him a woman of conviction, nothing like the frightened victim he’d first met two months ago.

She went up on her toes and delivered a light kiss. He matched it with a kiss of his own, and damn if it didn’t feel like a little piece of heaven had just tiptoed back into his life.

“I meant what I said to him, too,” she said, her arms lightly resting around his neck. “You’ve given me faith again in love. You helped me learn that it’s not weak to open myself up to someone and to love again. Even if you didn’t want me to.” Her eyes dipped down for a second then swept back up. “I couldn’t stop myself from loving you. I do, Joe, I love you.”

Now he felt like the coward, well, until five minutes ago anyway, when he’d watched Carey confront her biggest fear and kick its ass, and Joe finally knew without a doubt that he loved her, too. No matter how hard he’d tried, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from falling in love with her. He’d pulled out every old and sorry reason to keep from loving her, but she was meant to be loved, and he was the guy to do it. And for someone whose thoughts sounded suspiciously like a caveman’s—Me Joe. You Carey. We love.—he had yet to voice the most important words he’d ever say. He just stood there, staring into her eyes, stroking her hair, loving her in silence.

“It’s especially nice when you love someone.” She cleared her throat to draw his attention away from her eyes and back to noticing all of her. “If that someone loves you back.”

Hint, hint! There was that tiny mischievous smile she’d occasionally given when making an obvious point, and he’d missed it so much.

The ball was clearly in his court, and it was time for him to say what he felt and mean what he said. Without a doubt he loved Carey. So, still being in caveman mode, he bent down, swept her up into his arms and carried her up the steps to his front door.

Once inside he planted another kiss on her, and got the kind of reception he’d hoped for. But he knew he couldn’t get away with a mere display of affection. If ever a person deserved, or a time called for, words, it was now. So he gently released her legs to the ground, snuck in one last quickie kiss, and stepped back.

“Please forgive me for pushing you away. I was hurt. And afraid. Still am. And if you don’t think that’s a huge thing for me to admit, you don’t know me like you think you do.”

“I totally understand how huge that is.” She groped around his shoulders and chest. “Just like the rest of you.”

He went along with her making light of things, because the topic was difficult and heavy and loaded with old habits that needed to be set free. They’d both been through so much lately, but he had one more thing to say and he needed to say it now. He cupped her face between his hands.

“I’ll understand if you can’t see a future with me, because I’m sterile and I can’t make babies with you.”

“Stop right there,” she said. “You really don’t get it, do you? Did you not hear me say I love you? You may not be the biological father of the little lady here, but you’ve acted nothing short of a true, loving, and beyond decent father. Actions really do speak louder than, well, other actions in this case, I guess.” She screwed up her face in a perfectly adorable way, having briefly confused herself. Right now there wasn’t a single thing she could do wrong. “I know, terrible analogy.”

He laughed lightly, while understanding exactly what she’d meant, because that was part of what was so right about them, they always got what each other meant, spoken or not.

“But it’s all the family we need,” she added, and he loved her even more for her generous thought. But the truth was a small family could never be his style, that’s why he’d decided to never be in the position to have a family at all. Until Carey had shown up and changed everything.

“You don’t want her—what are we going to name her?—to have sisters and brothers? How about Peaches?”

“Name my daughter after a piece of fruit?” she playfully protested.

“Our daughter, you just said it, so that gives me equal naming privileges. Besides, I thought Peaches might be significant since I’m planning to make the famous Matthews ice cream just for you after dinner tonight.”

“You’re making me peach ice cream?”

“How else can I make sure you’ll never leave me again?”

“Ah, your father’s secret ingredient.”

“Yes. That. Plus the fact you have no idea what a hellhole it’s been here since you left, and I’ll never let you go again.”

“And...?” she encouraged him.

“Because I love you and can’t imagine my life without you.” He kissed her again, because there was no way he could say what he just had without needing to touch her, with the best expression of love he knew. Physical touch.

“Neither can I,” she said. “And if we want to give, well, I’ll agree to give her the nickname of Peaches, but honestly we’ll have to come up with something better than that for real. Anyway, if we want to give her siblings in the future, first one step at a time and all, right? Let’s see how this little one turns out. But, honestly, in this day and age, if we want more children, we can find a million ways to do it. Right?”

“Right, as usual. Sorry I’ve been so dense about that topic for so long. I’ve been too busy wallowing in my pain.”

“And that should never come into play with us again. Okay?”

“You got it. Because I intend to spend the rest of my life showing both of you how much I love you.”