Uh-oh. How on earth was he meant to stop his thoughts doing a happy dance?
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he drawled, hoping she didn’t have a clue what was going through his head right now.
Her hands had been gentle when she’d examined his knee. Now they were firm. There wasn’t anything remotely sexual about the way she touched him, and he had to grit his teeth on more than one occasion.
But when she’d finished the deep-tissue massage, he could move an awful lot more easily.
‘You’re very good at that,’ he said when she’d finished and he’d put his tracksuit bottoms back on. ‘Thank you.’
‘Better?’ she asked.
He nodded. ‘Sorry for being snippy with you.’
She shrugged. ‘You were in pain. Of course you were going to be snippy. It’s forgotten.’
‘Thanks. I owe you one,’ he said lightly, expecting her to brush it aside.
To his surprise, she looked thoughtful. ‘I wonder.’
‘Wonder what?’
‘I do need a favour, actually, and you’d be perfect.’
He still wasn’t following this. ‘For what?’
She took a deep breath. ‘My best friend’s getting married in three weeks’ time. And I’m under a bit of pressure to take someone to the wedding with me. My family’s convinced that I need someone in my life, and I can’t get them to see that I’m perfectly happy just concentrating on my career.’
‘You want me to go to a wedding with you?’
‘Yes.’
‘As your partner?’
She grimaced. ‘I’m not asking you on a date, Jared. I’m asking you to do me a favour.’
‘To be your pretend boyfriend.’
‘For one day. And an evening,’ she added.
Go with her to a wedding.
She’d just made his knee feel a lot better. And this would be payback.
But … a wedding.
Where people promised to love, honour and cherish, until death did them part.
Vows he’d taken himself, and had meant every single word—although it turned out that Sasha hadn’t. For all he knew, Tom hadn’t even been her first affair. He’d been so clueless, thinking that his wife was happy, when all the time she’d been looking for something else.
Sasha had broken every single one of her vows.
She’d lied, she’d cheated—and then she’d made a crucial decision without talking it over with him. A decision that had cut Jared to the quick because he really couldn’t understand her reasoning and it was totally the opposite of what he’d wanted. Even if the baby hadn’t been his, it would still have been hers. They could’ve worked something out.
Except she hadn’t wanted to. The only person she’d thought about had been herself. Not him, not the baby, not the other man who also might’ve been the baby’s father—as she’d been sleeping with them both, she’d had no idea who the father of her baby was.
To go and celebrate someone else making those same vows when he’d lost his faith in marriage … that would be hard.
‘If it’s a problem …’ her voice was very cool ‘… then forget I asked.’
He didn’t want to tell Bailey about the mess of his divorce, Sasha’s betrayal and the termination. He didn’t want her to pity him. Besides, he owed her for helping him with his knee. ‘OK. I’ll do it.’
He knew it sounded grudging, and her raised eyebrow confirmed it. He sighed. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound quite so—well—Herod-ish.’
That netted him the glimmer of a smile. ‘Knee still hurting?’ she asked.
It would be an easy excuse. But he thought she deserved the truth. ‘Let’s just say I’ve seen a lot of divorces.’ He’d been through a messy one, too. Not that she needed to know that bit. ‘So I guess my view of weddings is a bit dark.’
‘This one,’ Bailey said, ‘is definitely going to work. My best friend used to be engaged to a total jerk, but thankfully she realised how miserable her life was going to be with him, and she called it off.’
Interesting. So Bailey was a realist rather than seeing things through rose-tinted glasses? ‘I take it you like the guy she’s marrying?’
She nodded. ‘Aaron’s a genuinely nice guy. And he loves Joni as much as she loves him. It’s equal.’
Did that mean Bailey had been in a relationship that hadn’t been equal, or was he reading too much into this?
‘Plus,’ she said, ‘I happen to know the food’s going to be good—and the music. Joni’s brother has a band, and they’re playing at the evening do.’ She paused. ‘Dinosaur rock. They’re seriously good. So I think you’ll enjoy that.’
‘You don’t need to sell it to me. I’ve already said I’ll go with you, and I keep my word.’
Funny how brown eyes could suddenly seem so piercing. And then she nodded. ‘Yes. You have integrity. It’s better to be grumpy with integrity than to be charming and unreliable.’
That definitely sounded personal. And it intrigued him. But if he asked her any more, then she’d be able to ask him things he’d rather not answer. ‘Let me know when and where the plus-one thing is, then,’ he said instead.
‘Thanks. I will.’
Bailey couldn’t stop thinking about Jared on the way home. The world of football was pretty high profile—as much as the worlds of music and Hollywood were—and the gossip magazines were forever reporting divorces and affairs among sporting stars. But something in Jared’s expression had made her think that it was a bit more personal than that. Was Jared divorced? Not that she’d pry and ask him. But it made her feel a bit as if she’d railroaded him into agreeing to be her partner at the wedding. And that wasn’t fair.
When she got home, she texted him: You really *don’t* have to go to the wedding.
The answer came back promptly: I said I’d do it. I’ll keep my word.
Typical Jared. Stubborn.
Well, she’d given him the chance to back out. But hopefully he wouldn’t hate it as much as he seemed to think he would. OK, thanks, she texted back, and added all the details of the wedding.
The next day was one of Bailey’s clinic days at the London Victoria. Her first patient was a teenager who’d been injured playing tennis.
‘Viv landed awkwardly in training,’ Mr Kaine said. ‘She said she felt her knee give and heard a popping sound. And her knee’s started to swell really badly.’ He indicated his daughter’s knee. ‘It hurts to walk.’
‘It’s just a sprain, Dad. It’ll be fine,’ Vivienne said. ‘Let’s stop wasting the doctor’s time and go home.’
‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘You’re going to get this checked out properly.’
It sounded as if Mr Kaine was putting his daughter’s welfare first and would support her through any treatment programme—which was a good thing, Bailey thought, because what he’d just described sounded very like the injury that had finished Jared’s career. Damage to the anterior cruciate ligament.
She pushed Jared to the back of her mind. Not here, not now. Her patient came first.
‘Thank you for giving me the background, Mr Kaine. That’s very