Still the One Read online

  “What’s up?”

  “Nothing,” Darcy said.

  AJ didn’t say anything.

  Zoe divided a look between them. “It feels like something.”

  No kidding … “AJ needs a favor,” Darcy said. She met his easy and relaxed gaze.

  She, on the other hand, felt the opposite of easy and relaxed. Heat flickered through her whenever he was around, and even when he wasn’t and she only thought of him. And she spent way too much time thinking of him, wondering if he knew how to use that big body of his in bed.

  She suspected he did. “I’ll go,” she told him.

  “You’ll go where?” Zoe asked.

  Darcy waited for AJ to explain but he didn’t. Of course not. He wanted her to say it. “To Boise to meet a potential bigwig interested in funding AJ’s grant program.”

  Zoe turned to AJ and grinned. “Yeah? You got someone interested?”

  “Yeah,” he said, but he hadn’t taken his gaze off Darcy. “And he’s asked that I bring along someone I’ve treated after their insurance cut them off.”

  “Aw,” Zoe said. “And Darcy’s going to pay back a favor for a favor. Nice.”

  “Wait— What?” Darcy asked, and turned to AJ just as he was making a slicing-finger-across-the-throat motion to Zoe.

  Zoe was staring at him in confusion as she answered Darcy. “For all the pro bono physical therapy work he did when your insurance stopped paying at four months—” She broke off when AJ shook his head in disgust.

  Yep, definitely missing something, Darcy thought, not liking where this was going. “I thought you and Wyatt covered me,” she said to Zoe.

  Zoe sighed. “AJ wrote the bills off.” She turned to AJ. “I’m sorry, but you said you’d tell her. I just assumed she knew.”

  “I hadn’t gotten to it yet,” AJ said, looking resigned to having this conversation, the one about how he’d not only saved her life but also not gotten paid.

  Darcy could scarcely breathe. “You … you wrote the bills off? But that had to be hundreds of dollars of treatment, or more.”

  “Forget it. Oh, and the dinner’s dressy. And we’re going with no drama so don’t bother packing any.”

  Zoe winced. “Maybe I should go, too. I can pack food for the trip, it’ll be fun.”

  Darcy was struggling to contain herself. Her inner bitch really wanted to come out but … he’d written off her PT bills. “I’ll skip the drama if you skip being an ass.”

  “I’m not sure either of those things are possible,” he said. “But while we’re in negotiations, let’s put this on the table—no crazy.”

  “Okay,” Zoe said. “I’m definitely coming with.”

  “Maybe you should print me out a list of rules,” Darcy said to AJ, ignoring Zoe. “Like when I talk to you, should I say ‘Sir, yes, sir,’ or not speak at all?”

  “I mean I have work,” Zoe said. “But it’s no big deal for me to cancel a few flights.”

  “Not necessary,” AJ said to Zoe as he poured himself a mug of coffee and leaned back against the counter to take a leisurely sip. “And as much as I like the ‘Sir, yes, sir,’” he said to Darcy, “let’s go with door number two—not speaking at all.”

  Okay, this wasn’t going to work. Darcy was working at paying off her debts. She always paid off her debts, but this one might kill her. “Do you want to approve my wardrobe as well?”

  “Yeah,” Zoe said, pulling out her phone. “So I’ll just start cancelling some flights right now—”

  “No,” Darcy told her. Having Zoe the Worrier there would make everything worse. “Thank you but we’ll be fine.”

  “Fine dead, or fine in prison?”

  AJ smiled, albeit a little grimly. “Fine fine.”

  Zoe didn’t look convinced but she nodded. “Well … it’s really nice of you to help him out,” she said to Darcy.

  Nice had nothing to do with it. Darcy waited for AJ to mention that he was paying her a thousand bucks to go, something she would absolutely refuse now—but he didn’t say a word. She looked at him pointedly.

  He looked right back at her from those impenetrable hazelnut eyes.

  A point in his favor, she thought reluctantly. “He offered to pay me,” she told Zoe, and had the pleasure of catching a flash of surprise from him.

  He’d underestimated her. She was well used to that. “A lot of money,” she added. “That he’s no longer going to pay me now that I know what he did for me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Zoe said. “I’m going to ask again. Are you two sure this is a good idea? It’s a long car ride, and we all know that the two of you don’t exactly …” She trailed off, grimacing again when both Darcy and AJ just looked at her. “… get along,” she finished.

  Silence. Because why argue the truth?

  Zoe looked uncomfortable.

  Not AJ. In fact, Darcy had never seen the guy look uncomfortable, ever. It didn’t matter what he was doing, calmly digging into her knotted muscles while she swore and cursed at him, plowing his way across the football field with the guys, or running the wellness center and all the people in it with his endless, legendary calm—he never looked anything less than completely confident.

  She could hate him for that alone.

  AJ took another sip from his coffee while with his other hand he turned off the burner under the bacon pan, expertly flicked the pieces onto a plate layered with paper towels, and walked the plate to the table.

  “Coffee?” Zoe asked Darcy. “I made you decaffeinated in the hopes you’d sleep better.”

  “Did you serve AJ decaffeinated?”

  “Hell no,” AJ said. “Coffee without caffeine is like sex without a woman.” His phone went off. He looked at the screen and then moved to the door. “Gotta go.”

  “But you didn’t get to eat,” Zoe said.

  “Next time.” He glanced back at Darcy. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  “I don’t go back on my word,” she said. And plus now she owed him, which really chapped her hide.

  Zoe shifted uneasily. “Listen, there’s got to be someone else who could do this for you, AJ. Maybe someone who …” She broke off and glanced guiltily at Darcy.

  “Maybe someone who what?” Darcy asked, eyes narrowed.

  Zoe winced. “Maybe someone better suited to handle the social pressure of representing AJ’s work.”

  Darcy sucked in a breath and tried to act like that didn’t hurt more than her aching leg.

  “Honey, I’m not trying to hurt your feelings,” Zoe rushed on when Darcy stared at her. “But this is really important to him and you’re good at lots of things, but social stuff isn’t one of them. And then there’s the problem that the two of you don’t exactly see eye to eye.”

  They saw eye to eye just fine, Darcy thought grimly. And for three glorious minutes they’d once seen lips to lips, but hey, he hadn’t wanted her and she could deal with that. Someday. When she was old and gray and no longer had estrogen in her body. Maybe. “I am a representation of his work,” she said.

  AJ, clearly knowing better than to get in the middle of a sister “discussion,” remained silent. If he had any reservations about bringing her, he kept them close to his vest.

  Like he did just about everything—except for how he felt about her. He’d made that pretty damn clear. Whatever. She’d deal with that, too.

  Five

  AJ left Zoe and Darcy’s house and told himself things were all good. Darcy was going to go to Boise with him.

  Sure they’d be trapped together for the long car ride, but he couldn’t obsess about it.

  Nor would he obsess about what Darcy had been wearing when she’d stumbled into her kitchen fresh out of bed—a thin cotton cami and holy shit short shorts.

  He shook the memory off with shocking difficulty and pulled up to the small ranch house where he’d grown up. The neighborhood hadn’t changed much. Still a hardworking, blue-collar street, the vehicles were mostly Americanmade trucks better cared fo
r than the yards.

  AJ’s dad had renovated the house a decade back during one long summer with AJ’s help.

  They’d nearly killed each other, several times over.

  Retired Navy Captain James Mitchell Colten hadn’t softened much over the years. If anything, the opposite had happened. Back when AJ had been a little kid missing his mom after she’d died, his dad hadn’t known what to do with him. So he’d gone with what he knew and had treated AJ like one of his good little soldiers. Except AJ hadn’t exactly been good.

  There’d been a lot of pretty rough years with badass ’tude going head-to-head with badder-ass ’tude. Because in Captain Colten’s house, talking back hadn’t been tolerated.

  Suck it up, soldier.

  That had been his dad’s favorite line, but in hindsight AJ knew the guy had done the best he could. AJ had done his best, too. And because he’d never been good at following orders and the chain of command, he’d not gone the career Navy route as his dad had wanted.

  And still hated.

  But they’d gotten better at compromise with time. Or maybe AJ had just come to understand his dad and the man’s need for rules. After all, without them, chaos reigned.

  He had his own rules, and for the most part he abided by them. The lone exception had been almost taking advantage of what Darcy had offered that dark night eight months ago.

  He let himself into his dad’s house and wasn’t too surprised to find him already up, showered, and dressed. Years ago he’d been as tall as AJ, though age had robbed him of a few inches. Age had also softened much of his bulky muscles, but he still could kick ass when he wanted. He stood staring down at a pan full of frying sausage.

  Not turkey sausage, either.

  “Dad,” AJ said. “The doctor was clear about your cholesterol—”

  “It’s all new age bullshit. A man can’t live without sausage.”

  “Actually,” AJ said, “a man could live a lot longer without sausage.”

  His dad glowered at him and jabbed a fork in his direction. “I’ve put in my time. If I want to go to the big buffet in the sky by way of sausage, I’m entitled. Besides, there’s nothing else good to eat for breakfast.”

  AJ went to the refrigerator that he’d personally stocked for the man and pulled out the already cut-up fruit and a container of yogurt. “You said you’d eat this.”

  “Fruit’s for fairies.”

  “Dad.” AJ pinched the bridge of his nose. “You can’t say shit like that.”

  His dad tossed up his hands. “I can’t eat what I want to eat, I can’t say what I want to say. And I can’t even remember the last time I got to boss anyone around.”

  “It was me, last weekend, remember? You made me build those shelves for you. You yelled at me for two straight days that I was doing it wrong, and you had a great time doing it.”

  “Oh yeah.” His dad smiled and nodded. “That was fun.” He limped to the cabinet and pulled out a box of Ding Dongs.

  Jesus. “Dad, where’s your cane?”

  “Cane’s for sissies.” He twisted around and looked at AJ. “Or can’t I say sissies anymore, either?”

  AJ took a deep breath. “Your cane is to help keep you upright until your knee fully recovers from your surgery. If you fall on it right now, you’ll make everything worse.”

  “I won’t fall. I’m not that old. I’m only sixty-five.”

  “You’re seventy, Dad.”

  His dad stopped and blinked. “You sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well don’t tell anyone. I just signed up for a … whaddya call it … an online gig thingie.”

  AJ stared at him. “An online dating site?”

  “Yeah. And I told everyone I was sixty-five.” His dad very purposefully unwrapped a Ding Dong and shoved it into his mouth, looking absolutely rapturous. “Goddamn. This is better than sex. And I don’t need a fucking blue pill for it, either.”

  AJ kicked out a chair for his dad. “Let’s hear it.”

  “Hear what?”

  “I want to know what’s really going on here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re acting like a little kid,” AJ said.

  His dad shrugged. “Maybe I figured it was about time I pay you back for all those years you were such a rotten kid. And speaking of kids, you going to make me a grandpa or what?”

  AJ went brows up. “Looking to terrorize a whole new generation?”

  His dad smiled. “I’d be good at it. You’d best hurry though. Apparently I’m older than I thought, and if you wait until after I bite the bullet, I’ll be pissed off and haunt you from my grave.”

  “Then it’s a good thing you’re not dying anytime soon,” AJ said. “You’re too stubborn. And you know I’m not dating anyone right now.”

  “Son, you’ve gotta use it or lose it.”

  AJ scrubbed a hand over his face. He turned and went back into the living room, hunted up the cane from the foyer, and brought it to his dad. “Use this,” he said.

  “Now who’s bossy?” his dad said, but took the cane.

  AJ went to the stove. He drained the sausage and served it to his dad. He peered into the box of Ding Dongs—only one left. What the hell, he thought, and served that to his dad as well. “Enjoy it,” he warned. “It’s your last breakfast of its kind.”

  “Sure,” his dad said too easily, and AJ just shook his head. He didn’t need kids. He had his dad …

  Darcy held two part-time jobs, one at AJ’s Sunshine Wellness Center and also one at Belle Haven, Sunshine’s local animal center, where she filled in twice a week. That was today’s job. After she showered and dressed, she walked to her piece-of-shit Toyota, which moaned and groaned when she cranked over the engine. The morning had dawned cold and icy, and her car didn’t enjoy either.

  Neither did she. Rain, yes. Ice, no. The roads felt slick, and since she had not yet been able to get back onto a highway, she had to take the back roads, which had her saying “oh crap oh crap oh crap” like a mantra.

  To get over herself, she tried to think of something, anything else. The first thing that came to mind—how AJ had looked in his faded Levi’s and soft navy T-shirt that clung to his perfect back as he sang in her kitchen with Zoe.

  He’d danced like no one was watching. Like he didn’t give a shit about what anyone thought.

  And damn. Damn that was both a surprise and attractive.

  What the hell was going on with her today?

  She cranked the music and tried to relax but her favorite radio station wasn’t coming in, so she ended up on a candy pop station listening to that damn Frozen song and singing about how the cold never bothered her anyway. She was really owning the lyrics and getting into it when a deer dashed out from the woods and stopped right in the middle of the damn road, staring wide-eyed at Darcy.

  Darcy let out a string of every bad word she knew as she slammed on the brakes.

  The deer blinked and bounded off.

  Darcy dropped her head to the steering wheel and gulped in air.

  A car came up behind her and honked and took three years off her life.

  “Yeah, yeah, bite me,” she yelled and carefully eased onto the accelerator. “It’s all good,” she told herself and tried to channel her inner Ariana. “Just clear your mind.”

  But as it turned out, she really didn’t have an inner Ariana, because her heart stayed at heart attack level all the way into work.