Scarlett’s nerves prickled. “Define drinks.”
Justine laughed. “Alcoholic beverages. Or not. Your choice. I’m not judging.”
“I meant define it as in who will be there.”
Justine took a casual drink of her wine. “Neil and me. Ricky. You. Anyone else I invite between now and then.”
“And do you intend to invite anyone else, or are you trying to set me up with Ricky?”
“Would that be so bad?”
Scarlett squirmed inside. “I’m not ready for dating. I had a bad breakup before I moved here.”
“All the more reason to get back on the horse.” Justine grabbed her hand. “Come on, it’ll be very public, and we won’t call it a date or anything. Just four adults having drinks. If you don’t like him, you can leave.”
Scarlett wanted to say no. But Justine had been so helpful and kind since Scarlett had arrived in Maryland, and she felt guilty at the thought of refusing. It was a group setting. Drinks. She could do that much. Then she’d get the heck out of there.
“I’ll go. But it’s not a date, and I’m driving my own car.”
“That’s great! Neil will be so pleased. He thought you and Ricky might like each other.” She put a finger to her lips. “But it’s not a date. No dating.”
“Nope.”
Justine leaned in. “This isn’t about the big hunky guy you’ve got in rehab, is it?”
Scarlett blinked. She had more than one patient in rehab that she worked with, but there was only one who fit that description. “Mal? No, we’re just friends.”
“Just friends. With a guy who looks like that.” Justine shook her head. “Gurrrl. It must have been a bad breakup if you aren’t going for that tasty morsel.”
Mal was seriously pretty to look at, but even if she was interested, he wasn’t available. Hung up on a woman who was in love with someone else. Damned shame. Not that she was telling Justine that. It’d be like airing a commercial during the Super Bowl. Everyone would know.
“I’m done with men. Hell, I might even switch to the other team and give that a go for a while,” she said wryly.
Justine snorted. “Life would be easier, wouldn’t it? But when you like dick, you have to put up with the rest of the man to get it.”
“I’m on a dick moratorium. I can do without for a while.”
“Sounds like hell,” Justine said with a laugh.
Scarlett laughed too, but she didn’t tell Justine there were worse hells than swearing off men for the foreseeable future. Much, much worse.
Chapter Five
Every day was better. Mal was working hard and improving quickly. He could walk without crutches now, but his leg ached when he pushed it too much. Scarlett wanted him to use a cane. He protested, but when the aching got too bad, he did what she said. He always did what she said eventually.
She was waiting for him when he hobbled into the room where they did their workouts. Lately, he’d been getting a little twinge of delight each time he saw her. He didn’t know why, but maybe it was how easy they got along together. Since their talk a week ago, there’d been no more awkward moments. No fear in her eyes, no jokes gone amiss. She smiled when she saw him, and they ribbed each other good-naturedly when the occasion rose.
It was the kind of easy relationship he had with his teammates in a way, though not quite as close or intense. He’d die for those guys and they’d die for him. Fortunately, he and Scarlett weren’t living in that kind of environment where life or death hung on split-second choices.
Scarlett was leaning against the counter, legs crossed at the ankles, looking at the smart phone in her hand. Her long blond hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail as always. One end hung over her shoulder, spilling hair over her breast. Her features were delicate, almost elfin. She had pale skin and long lashes, a small, upturned nose, and elegant hands that kneaded his muscles in heavenly ways.
She smiled at him, and he smiled back. “How’s it going, Hopalong?” she asked.
“Ha, ha,” he deadpanned, taking his seat so she could do the measurements for his range of movement. “Hopping less all the time.”
“Told you that would happen.”
“You did. Doc says I can head home this week if things keep going well.” He hadn’t expected to spend two weeks in the hospital, but that’s what happened when you were a precision military machine in need of repair. They kept you close and made sure you were progressing well. HOT had too much invested in him to let him go home too soon and fuck it all up.
Scarlett nodded. “I don’t see why not. You can get up and down on your own now. That’s huge. Though you’re going to be out of commission for a while, you can convalesce at home instead of here. I know that’ll make you happier.”
“It will. Though I gotta admit, I like having someone cook every meal for me. When I go home, it’s back to takeout and cooking for myself.”
“You can cook?”
“My mom made me learn when she taught my sister. I protested like hell, but she didn’t care. When I told her I didn’t need to cook because I was going to get a wife who would do it all for me, she lost her shit. I learned to cook, sew on a button, and write thank you notes. Mom wasn’t playing. My sister found the whole thing hilarious.”
Scarlett laughed. He liked the sound of her laugh. Soft and tinkly. Delicate like she was.
“I think I like your mom. What’s your specialty then?”
“Like most men, I prefer to grill or smoke. But I can fix anything with a recipe. It’s just reading and paying attention.”
“I don’t cook,” Scarlett said. “Never learned.”
Mal blinked. “Really?”
She nodded. “My mom was a nurse, and my dad was a mechanic. They worked long hours, so they brought home a lot of takeout—or one of them threw something together when they had time. I don’t think either of them thought to teach me, and I never asked.”
He noticed she said was in reference to her parents, but he didn’t ask her about it. He went with something less personal. “Do you want to learn now?”
“I don’t know. I mean I’m good with microwaving things, and there’s a lot of stuff you can eat that doesn’t need cooking. I eat cheese and crackers for dinner a lot of times. I can make toast, so that’s an easy breakfast. I get by.”
“If you can read, you can cook. I could show you sometime if you want.”
Where had that come from? Mal couldn’t quite believe the words had come from his mouth. Scarlett tilted her head from side to side as if she were thinking about it.
“Maybe. But first I have to find a new place to live, so I think that’s going to be taking up my time for a while.”
“What’s wrong with where you live now?”
Scarlett grabbed one of the stretchy bands and handed it to him. He knew what to do so he stood and looped it around his foot.
“I’m rooming with one of the nurses here and she’s selling the house to get married. I can’t afford to buy it, so I have to move.”
“Where are you looking?”