Sizzling

Lori Johnston—Lori's a private duty nurse with a life she really likes, thank you very much. She's practical, sarcastic, caring and maybe, just maybe hiding the fact that it was easier to give up on her dreams than risk trying and failing. But all that is about to change.

Lori and her sister, Madeline:

Lori pulled into her driveway a little after five. Her neighborhood was light years away from Gloria's street of gated mansions, but Lori didn't mind. She loved everything about her house.

The two bedroom, two bath size suited her perfectly. She loved the details of the Craftsman style, the built-ins, the moldings. She loved that she'd painted every wall herself and had done most of the remodeling without help. She loved the colors, the garden, the porch, the way the house looked solid...and made her feel safe.

She walked inside and breathed in the scent of garlic. "You're cooking," she yelled by way of greeting. "You're not supposed to be cooking."

Madeline stepped out of the kitchen and grinned. "I don't believe that was in the contract I signed, but I'll have to go check. Besides, I'm having a good day. On good days I want to cook."

Lori studied her sister's face, searching for lines of fatigue or paleness in her coloring. Neither was there. Instead Madeline looked serenely beautiful, as she always had.

In Lori's mind, the family gene pool had a killer sense of humor. Lori was average height, Madeline a few inches taller. Lori had inherited awful orange curls that had thankfully faded to a more muted reddish gold. Madeline had auburn waves. She woke up looking like a 1940s movie star. With a little effort and some mascara, she looked like a goddess. It had taken Lori most of her life, but she'd finally learned not to be bitter.

"How was day two?" Madeline asked. "Gloria still a challenge?"

"She defines the term. This morning she nearly hinted that she liked having me around and then spent the rest of the day insulting me. I have to say there's nothing wrong with her brain. She's really good at the one-line put down."

Madeline folded her arms across her University of Washington sweatshirt. "You still like her?"

"I do. I know I shouldn't. There's a power struggle in our future and I'm going to win, but still, there's something about her. She's trying to hard to be a bitch and I can't figure out why. Is it a defense mechanism? A way of coping? Did she have to be a bitch to get ahead all those years ago and forget to turn it off? One of her grandsons called. This guy named Cal. He wanted to come by and check on her. Gloria wouldn't take the call and told me to tell him that she would be dead soon and then he could be happy."

Madeline shook her head. "You didn't tell him that, did you?"

"No, but it made me wonder."

"Not every sick person is a saint. Aren't most of them exactly like they were in their regular life?"

"Yes, in theory. But I just don't want that to be true in Gloria's case. I keep thinking something's there. Maybe it's because Reid was so insistent that she was awful. When I interviewed for the job, he made her sound like the devil."

Madeline grinned. "Oh, so we're back to talk about Reid. You do have him on the brain."

Lori willed herself not to blush. "I have no idea what you're talking about?" She sniffed. "I smell garlic but nothing else. What's for dinner?"

"Don't try to change the subject. Admit it. You have a thing for Reid Buchanan. My practical sister has totally fallen for a sports hero."

"Not exactly fallen," Lori muttered. "I have a stupid crush on him, okay? It's chemical, which means it's not my fault. I react to him. But it doesn't mean anything. I'll get over it. I'm smarter than him."

"Being smart doesn't have anything to do with it."

"So my hormones keep telling me."

"Maybe you should go out with him," Madeline told her. "Maybe he's better than you think."

Madeline was possibly one of the nicest people on the planet. She saw good in everyone and believed in miracles. Lori had never believed and most people got on her nerves.

In Madeline's fairy tale universe, men like Reid Buchanan would absolutely date women like Lori. They would probably fine them fascinating. Unfortunately Lori's universe was very different.

She pushed up her glasses. "I don't think I'm his type. I get on his nerves. I'm not deferential enough." All excuses for the real thing—Reid would never see her as a sexual being. She was his grandmother's nurse. Sort of a living appliance. Not matter how much she wanted that to be different, it wasn't.

"You're funny and pretty and smart. Of course you're his type."

Lori avoided mirrors whenever possible, but she couldn't escape them. Pretty? Not so much. She was average. Nothing more, nothing less.

"You're an optimist," she said. "Sometimes that's annoying."

Madeline laughed. "You can't be mad at me. I made spaghetti with garlic bread."

Lori's mouth watered. "A carb fest for dinner?"

Absolutely. I was in the mood." Her sister linked arms with her and led her into the kitchen. "While we're eating, we can strategize about Reid. What you can do to get his attention."

"I don't want his attention. He's not anyone I would ever want to be with."

It was an old pattern, but one that had always served Lori well. She found it really helpful to put down that which she couldn't ever have. It made the doing without so much easier.

 

Lori with Gloria:

Lori stared at the ringing phone. "Are you going to get that?" she asked.

Gloria continued to flip through the DVD magazine. "There's no one I want to talk to."

"Then I guess I'll talk to them." Lori grabbed the phone. "Hello?"

"This is Cal Buchanan. You're, ah..."

"Lori Johnston. We spoke when you called before. Hi. How are you?"

"Good. I'm phoning to check on my grandmother. I thought I might come by later and visit."

"That's great." Lori covered the phone and smiled at Gloria. "It's Cal. He wants to see you."

Gloria didn't bother looking up. "No. Tell him to go away."

Lori uncovered the phone. "She's thrilled and can't wait to see you."

Cal chuckled. "Want to let me hear her say that?"

"Not really. She doesn't always say what she means. You have to read between the lines."

Gloria glared at Lori. "Hang up this instant. You will not answer my phone again, nor will you speak for me."

Lori took a step back so she was out of reach. "Your grandmother is doing great. She's making progress every day. Even her physical therapist is impressed and he's one tough guy to please. She's gained a little weight. Not as much as I would like. But then I'm just bitter at how good she must look in her clothes."

Gloria's scowl didn't soften. "You're annoying me. Hang up. Or tell Cal he can visit, but just him. Not that whore he married or her horrible baby."

Lori winced. She hadn't had the phone covered and based on how Cal swore, he'd heard every word.

"Why do I bother?" he asked before he hung up.

Lori put down the phone. "What is wrong with you?" she demanded. "Why would you do that? He's your grandson. This is the second time he's called, wanting to come see you. To me that shows an impressive level of commitment. If he was just being polite, he would have stopped after one call."

Instead of answering, Gloria turned her attention back to the catalogue.

Lori snatched it from her and tossed it on the ground. "I'm talking to you."

"I have no interest in this conversation. You need to be careful. You're coming very close to overstepping your bounds."

"Excuse me while I tremble in fear." Lori stalked to the bookcases and turned back to face the bed. "What's wrong with you?" she asked again. "Why are you acting like this? It doesn't make any sense. I know you're lonely. I know you're hurting and feeling a sense of your own mortality. Who wouldn't after what you've been through? So you deal with that by connecting with people. But you don't connect. We're talking about your family and you keep pushing them away. Why?"

"I will not discuss this with you."

"Too bad, because I'm not leaving until I understand."

Gloria folded her arms across her chest and looked out the window. Lori stared at her.

"I thought you had the most selfish grandkids in the world," she said slowly. "You'd lost your only child, you took them in, raised them, ran the family business and your reward was for them to ignore you. But it's not like that, is it? You push them away. What are you trying to prove?"

"Stay out of this," Gloria told her, her face tight with anger. "This isn't your business. You will stop right now."

"Who's gonna make me? You? You think you're so tough, but I'm not afraid of you."

One corner of Gloria's mouth twitched. "Very mature."

Lori held in a grin. Oh, my. Was that a crack in the armor? A sign of humanity? Humor? On purpose? It couldn't be.

"I don't care about mature," Lori told her. "I do what works. What's going on with Cal? Why don't you want to see him?"

Gloria turned to the window again, but this time the action seemed more about pain than defiance. "He's never respected me."

"I doubt that."

"You don't know. And that woman he married. She was pregnant with another man's baby. That child he's raising isn't his."

And people thought home care could be boring. "Did she cheat on him?"

"No. She was pregnant before they got together."

"So technically she didn't do anything wrong."

"That's not the point."

"Actually it is the point. Is Cal happy?"

"Any fool can be happy."

"I'll take that as a yes." She leaned against the side of the bed. "You might want to be careful about pushing people away too many times. Eventually they stop trying to get close."

"You must know this from experience," Gloria said, turning to look at her.

Lori blinked. "Excuse me. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Of course you do. But it's not so comfortable to have someone analyzing you, is it?" Gloria looked her up and down. "How long have you done your best to ignore your appearance? One might even say you play down your looks."

Lori did her best not to react, and that included blushing. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I wear scrubs because it's appropriate for my job."

"They're shapeless and ugly. Your hair isn't horrible, but you pull it back in that ridiculous braid. No make-up, those glasses."

"Help me see," Lori said. "Blind nurses are much harder to employ."

"You use humor as a weapon. I would say I'm not the only one pushing people away. So what's your excuse? When did you stop trying?"

A long, long time ago, Lori thought grimly. When she'd realized her older sister was totally perfect and that she, Lori, would never measure up.

"So, now you don't have quite so much to say," Gloria said calmly.

"I prefer telling other people what's wrong with them, but I can handle whatever you say. I wear my hair back because it's practical. I dress like this because it's appropriate. I don't wear make-up because I have limited time in the morning and I'd rather spend it on a run that painting my face."

"Excellent excuses. Have you used them before or did you come up with them all right now?"

Lori stared at her patient. The good news was Gloria was showing a healthy if slightly twisted interest in life. The bad news was she'd shot a few unpleasant truths right in Lori's gut while doing it.

"What do you want from me?" Lori asked. "Is there a purpose or are your comment their own kind of fun."

"I want you to wear regular clothes. Jeans and a sweater. Looking at you in those...what did you call them?"

"Scrubs."

"Right. Looking at you in those scrubs is depressing. I'm already near death. I don't need my demise hurried along by looking at your ugly clothes."

Lori flipped up the hem of her shirt and pretended to look for a tag. "There's no warning label that being seen in scrubs can cause death."

"Insolent child."

"Crabby old biddy."

Gloria pressed her lips together, as if holding in a smile. "You will wear regular clothes starting tomorrow."

"You actually can't make me."

Gloria ignored her. "In return, there is a slight chance I might be willing to see one of my grandchildren."

That was a victory. And worth wearing jeans. "You have a deal."

Gloria eyed her head. "We also need to do something about your hair."

"Not likely. The price for that is you singing karaoke."

 

Lori and Reid...sort of:

Lori walked into the kitchen and found Sandy already there.

"You're early," she said.

Sandy poured herself a cup of coffee. "I know what it's like to be tired after a long day. Of course, I'm just waking up."

Sandy smiled at her and Lori realized she'd really started to like the other nurse. Lori considered the fact that she didn't hold Sandy's full blown beauty against her a sign of a mature character.

Sandy waved the coffee pot at Lori who shook her head. "Not if I want to sleep tonight."

"I know. I get hyped up on coffee and then I don't fall asleep until nine or ten in the morning. My body clock is totally screwed up. Speaking of screwed, did you see those twins interviewed on CNN?"

Lori shook her head. "What twins?"

"Bimbos. Former centerfolds. It was awful. They've written some stupid self-help book so us lesser mortals can learn to be as sexy as them. Can you imagine?"

Lori didn't know what to say. If tall, busty, gorgeous Sandy considered herself a lesser mortal, what did that make Lori? A mutant?

"They were on CNN talking about their book?"

"Uh huh. That part was bad enough, but then the stupid reporter brought up Reid. Of course they had to dump on him and say he was lousy in bed."

Sandy pressed her lips together. "It's that damn newspaper article. Kristie and I were talking about it a couple of nights ago. The thing is, it's so unfair." She smiled, as if remembering something amazing. "I had absolutely no complaints about my close encounter with Reid and neither did Kristie. It was everything we wanted it to be."

She sighed. "Of course I was a fan and, I confess, just a little slutty at my interview. I threw myself at him. Not that said no."

Lori couldn't think. Her mind went totally blank, which was probably for the best. Otherwise she might have exploded.

"You slept with him during your interview for this job?"

Sandy nodded. "Kristie, too. It was fun. That big desk in his office at the sports bar. Yum. I..." She stopped and stared at Lori. "Are you okay?"

No, she wasn't okay. She was furious. Not with Reid, but with herself. For being stupid enough to think he was a real person. He wasn't. He was just a shallow, disgusting pretend human being.

"I'm fine," she said from between clenched teeth.

Sandy grimaced. "Oh, God. I just put my foot in it, didn't I? I thought you'd slept with him, too."

"No," Lori said grimly. "I didn't."

Apparently she could form a club of women who hadn't slept with Reid Buchanan. It would have a membership of one.

Irresistible

Elissa Towers—a single mom determined to do right and avoid disastrous relationships with men. Given her past, that means all relationships with men.

The alarm rang at 4 a.m., as it did every weekday morning. Elissa got up immediately because she’d learned her body cooperated better while it was still in shock over the pre-dawn hour.

She showered, then wrapped her hair in a towel while she applied the barest touch of make-up. After dressing in her Eggs ‘n Stuff uniform, she got out the blow dryer and ran it until she’d passed from wet to damp, then combed her hair and put it in a quick ponytail. At 4:30, she walked into the kitchen and inhaled the scent of brewing coffee.

Whoever had invented timers on coffee machines deserved an award, or, at the very least, a star named in his or her honor. As Elissa reached for a mug, she heard a very distinct thump from overhead.

The sound was loud and out of place. The moan that followed made her shiver. What if Walker had fallen and hurt himself? He looked to be in too good of shape for that, but he could have slipped or fallen while drunk.

She hesitated between not wanting to get involved and knowing she couldn’t leave Zoe until she knew everything was all right. After quickly checking on her daughter, who was still sleeping soundly, Elissa grabbed her trusty baseball bat from the hall closet and hurried upstairs.

She knocked briskly, then announced herself in case he was in the throws of some war-induced hallucination. She didn’t want to be shot or maimed in his confusion.

Finally the door opened. Walker stood there wearing nothing but rumpled PJ bottoms. His chest was bare, he needed a shave and for once his eyes weren’t hiding his feelings. He was amused as hell.

“So much for not wanting to get into my bed,” he said.

She glared at him. “You were thunking and moaning. It’s 4:30 in the morning. What was I supposed to think?”

The humor faded. “Seriously?” he asked.

“I do not make this stuff up.”

He looked at the baseball bat. “Was that to take me out or to protect me from whatever was happening?”

“I hadn’t decided.”

“It’s been a long time since someone came to my rescue.” His lips twitched as if he were fighting the need to grin.

Ha ha. Yeah, this was a laugh fest. She couldn’t believe he was fine.

“So you’re all right,” she muttered. “Great. I won’t bother you again.”

She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm. When she glanced at him, the humor had faded.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking as if he meant it. “I was having a bad dream. I woke up on the floor. I guess I thrashed around until I fell. It was good of you to worry about me.”

She sighed. “But unnecessary.”

“I could pretty much take anyone.”

“Whatever.”

“I appreciate you coming to my rescue.”

She pulled free of his touch. “Now you’re mocking me.”

“A little.”

At that moment, her entire hormonal system stirred to life and noticed there was a half-naked man standing very, very close. Elissa felt the chemicals pouring through her body. It was like getting a shower, but from the inside. Wanting exploded as her girl parts got hard or squishy, depending on their placement. All this and she hadn’t even had coffee.

Mrs. Ford—a charming, elderly neighbor with some very peculiar ideas about men, women and love.

Mrs. Ford had taken great pains to point out that a lady did not sleep with a gentleman for any reason other than love or really powerful sexual attraction. Even being given a kidney wasn’t good enough. As if Elissa didn’t already know that.

“Chili is an excellent choice,” Mrs. Ford said. “A very manly dish. No frou-frou vegetables or tofu surprise. An excellent move.”

“It’s not a move.”

“It should be. Elissa, darling, he’s a very handsome man.”

Lori Johnston—a private duty nurse. Lori is sensible and has no time for men who are flirtatious and most especially, annoying.

Lori Johnston was everything Reid didn’t like in a woman. Disapproving, plain and not interested in him. She glanced around the sports bar with the same lack of enthusiasm she’d shown at being introduced to him.

“We should go into my office,” he said over the yells of the afternoon crowd in for a Mariner’s game, then took her total lack of response as agreement.

Once there, he motioned for her to take the seat opposite his desk while he settled on a corner. Not so much to look down on her, he told himself, as to, well, maintain control of the interview process.

She adjusted her glasses before handing him a copy of her resume. “The agency recommended me for this assignment because I’ve had a lot of experience with difficult patients. I’ve been doing private duty nursing for two years. Before that I was on the orthopedic ward. I’ve worked with several heart patients recently. I believe those are the two issues your grandmother will be facing. Recovery from both a heart attack and a broken hip.”

She spoke the way she looked, sensibly and with nothing wasted on the frivolous, which made him uncomfortable.

“I could put the game on here,” he said, jerking his head toward the TV in the corner. “The Mariners are tied.”

She blinked at him. “I don’t follow sports.”

Why was he not surprised? “So you don’t know who I am.”

“Should I?”

Ouch. “Sure. I’m a famous major league pitcher.”

“Then why do you work in a bar?”

“I blew out my shoulder.”

“Given the effort and daily stress necessary in that line of work, I’m not surprised. The body has limits, Mr. Buchanan. No matter how we would like that reality to change into something different, it simply will not change.”

She reminded him of every teacher he’d never liked, all self-righteous and...and...priggy, he thought with no idea of where the word had come from.

She wore a long-sleeved shirt tucked into a boring skirt that fell well below her knees. Her shoes were ugly, she didn’t wear jewelry or make-up and if she narrowed her eyes at him any more, she was going to go cross-eyed. Her only redeeming feature—thick reddish gold hair that she’d pulled back into a horrible braid—was wasted on her.

Delicious

Penny Jordan—chef, make that a brilliant chef. Ex-wife of Cal Buchanan. Penny refuses to believe she hasn’t gotten over her ex. It’s been years. She’s moved on...and yet...

Penny looked innocent enough, Cal thought as he gazed into her big blue eyes, but he knew better than to believe the wide-eyed stare.

Penny could be convinced to take the job, otherwise she wouldn’t have bothered with a meeting. Playing him for a fool wasn’t her style. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t enjoy making him beg.

Given their past, he supposed he’d earned it. So he would bargain with her, giving in where he had to. He would even have enjoyed the negotiation if only she wouldn’t look so damn smug.

He rubbed his thumb across her wrist bone, knowing she would hate that. She’d always lamented about her large forearms, wrists and hands, claiming they were out of proportion with the rest of her body. He’d thought she was crazy to obsess about a flaw that didn’t exist. Besides, she had chef’s hands—scarred, nimble and strong. He’d always liked her hands, whether they were working on food in the kitchen or working on him in the bedroom.

Dani Buchanan—the youngest of the Buchanan siblings and Penny’s ex sister-in-law. Dani runs Burger Heaven and desperately wants to get ahead in the family business. She has a master’s degree from Cornell, so why won’t her evil, controlling grandmother give her a break?

Dani hated everything about Gloria’s office. The size, the whiteness of it all. Being here always made her feel as if she’d been called to the principal’s office, even when she’d been the one to request the meeting.

“Dani,” Gloria said from behind her very large, very white desk. “How nice of you to ask to see me.”

Gloria didn’t stand or offer to shake hands or hug. Not at the office. Here things were strictly business. Here they were never family.

Dani had dressed carefully in a pants suit with a silk blouse. She kept her back straight as she perched at the edge of the chair.

“Burger Heaven is doing well,” she said. “Which is why I wanted to see you. I’ve served my time there, Gloria. There’s nothing left for me to learn. I’m ready to move up in the company.”

Gloria sighed. “You’ve said that before, Dani. Several times. No matter how I discourage you, you keep insisting on wanting to move up. Why is that?”

“Because I’ve earned the chance to prove myself somewhere else.” She swallowed, then braced herself. “I either want to be promoted within the company or I’m resigning.”

Gloria didn’t react at all. Not a lash flickered, not a muscle moved. She regarded Dani for several seconds before saying, “I will not tolerate being threatened by you, young lady.”

Dani ignored the young lady bit. “I’m not threatening you. I’m stating a fact. I have both the education and experience to take on more responsibility. This is my career and I refuse to spend it managing Burger Heaven. If you don’t want to give me a chance, then I’ll find a company that does... You haven’t held anyone back the way you’ve kept me down. So why?”

Her grandmother leaned toward her. The temperature seemed to dip ten degrees. “Be very careful before you ask me that,” she said, her voice low. “I don’t think you’re prepared to hear the truth.”

Naomi—Penny’s best friend and assistant. A warm, sexy woman with a dark secret from her past.

“It’s all fine and good to look at qualifications,” Naomi said. “But I want someone I can have sex with.”

Penny ignored her friend and glanced at the application in front of her. “I hear good things about him,” she said, making notes on a pad. “Put him on the list.”

“But he’s married and he doesn’t cheat.” There was a definite whine in Naomi’s voice. “I can accept one, but not the other.”

“We are talking about raising a restaurant from the dead. Not your sex life.”

“Why do they have to be mutually exclusive? I can be a good employee and have a great sex life. In fact, getting laid on regular basis keeps me cheerful.”

Penny looked at her papers so Naomi wouldn’t see her smile. “Focus,” she said.