But sprawled across a bed under her roof?
That was an entirely different matter.
“Plato, come meet Mason.”
He heard her voice before her footsteps and then she reappeared in the doorway with a gigantic Saint Bernard at her side.
“You didn’t get a dog.” Mason eyed the shaggy beast. “You got a damn horse.”
She grinned, bringing a surprising impishness to her oval face, and tucked her long, golden hair behind her ear. “He’s a big boy,” she agreed. Her fingers scrubbed through the dog’s thick coat and the beast’s tongue lolled with obvious pleasure. “But he’s a total marshmallow. He’s four and very well behaved.” She stopped next to the bed and gestured to the dog, who plopped his butt on the floor and looked across the mattress at Mason with solemn brown eyes. “Mason’s a friend, Plato.”
Mason stuck out his good hand and let the dog sniff him. Evidently satisfied, the dog slopped his tongue over Mason’s fingers and thumped his tail a few times.
Courtney smiled, then looked at the watch around her wrist. “I’ve got to get to work.” Her gaze skipped over Mason and around the room. She picked up the cell phone that Axel had left. “I’m adding the number at the hospital,” she said as her fingers rapidly tapped. “Plus my own cell number.” When she was finished, she set the phone on the nightstand. “But I’ll warn you—cell service isn’t always the greatest around here. There’s a landline in the kitchen, though.” She patted her hip. “Come on, Plato. Back outside.”
“Does he always stay outside?”
Courtney shook her head. “Not always. But I don’t want him disturbing you.”
Mason leaned forward a little, rubbing his hand over the dog’s massive head. “He’ll give me someone to talk to.”
She smiled slightly. “Well. He is pretty good company. I’ll pop back home when I get my dinner break, but it’ll be pretty late.” She headed toward the doorway. “Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything, though. If I can’t make it over, there’s always going to be someone who can.” She gave a faint wave and disappeared.
Mason looked from the doorway to the pill bottles on the bedside table to the dog, who was watching him as if he could read his mind.
“Don’t you worry, Plato,” Mason muttered. “Soon as I get these casts off, I’ll be out of here.”
And away from temptation.
He looked from the prescription bottle back to the empty doorway.
Both temptations.
“It sounds like the perfect opportunity for you.” Lisa Pope, the other nurse who shared the emergency room’s night shift with Courtney, leaned her elbows on the counter and smiled. “Keep an eye out for a patient while he heals up and collect room and board at the same time.”
Courtney didn’t look up from the medical chart she was updating and smiled a little wryly. “It does sound perfect,” she agreed. In theory.
“Sounds perfect,” Lisa prompted. She raised her eyebrows. “What’s the problem?”
Courtney shook her head. “No problem.” None that she intended to share.
Lisa leaned closer over the desk. At the moment, the Weaver Hospital’s emergency department was quiet. “He must not have a wife, or he wouldn’t need care. So is he handsome?” Her eyes danced wickedly.
“Whether he is or not is beside the point. He’s a patient.”
Lisa sighed noisily and straightened. “Honestly, girl. You are twenty-six years old, so beautiful that other women ought to hate you, and I swear you live the life of a nun. It’s practically criminal.”
Courtney gave a laughing snort. “Why does it matter to you? You’re besotted with your husband, and you know it.” Lisa and Jay even had a darling little girl, Annie.
Lisa lifted her shoulder. “Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean a little vicarious living is out of the question. So … handsome or not?”
Courtney gave a huge sigh and closed the chart. “Mason is—” She broke off, trying to find a good word to describe the man and failing entirely. “Handsome enough.” She settled on the adjective, just because it was expedient. Despite the scar on his face, he was a striking man. Not handsome exactly, because he had a certain aura of … darkness around him. “More importantly, he’s a patient.”
Lisa made a face. “Well. At least tell me you’re going to spend the extra money you’re earning on something more interesting than fresh paint for your house trim. For nine months, all you’ve talked about is that house of yours.”
A laugh started to bubble in the back of Courtney’s throat.
Nine months.
It was almost funny.
She looked across the counter at her coworker and friend and shrugged casually, hiding the squiggle of excitement inside her. “What can I say? It’s my home. I want it to be perfect.”
Perfect for when it wasn’t just her living there.
Then she waved her hands in a shooing motion as she turned her attention back to paperwork that needed to be completed ASAP. “Now, we’d better get back to work or the boss lady around this place will have our heads.”
They both grinned, because the boss lady who ran the Weaver Hospital happened to be Courtney’s mother, Dr. Rebecca Clay. But the grins didn’t last long because the doors to the E.R. slid open, and Courtney’s sister-in-law, Mallory, strode inside, shrugging out of her jacket as she moved. “Got a high-risk mom coming in by air,” she greeted as she moved rapidly across the tiled floor past the desk where Courtney and Lisa were. “They’re at least ten minutes out.”
Courtney was already following her. “I’ll call the team.” She didn’t even look back to see Lisa assume her seat at reception.
Mallory nodded and pushed through the double doors, Courtney on her heels.
The quiet evening was over, and Courtney didn’t have a chance to think about much of anything until it was time for her dinner break at ten o’clock.
She drove the short distance home and let herself into the house. There was a water glass sitting on the counter in the kitchen where she hadn’t left it, but that was the only indication that Mason had been moving around the house.
A light came from his room down the hall, and she headed there quietly in case he was sleeping. She stuck her head around the doorway and looked inside.
He was sprawled on the bed, more or less in the same position that she’d left him. A book was lying closed on the mattress beside him, and Plato was lying next to that.
Her dog’s brow wrinkled as he looked at her, but he didn’t lift his head. He looked as if he were settled for the night. Between the big dog and the big man, there was barely a spare inch of mattress left.
Courtney settled a light blanket over Mason and turned off the light. Mason still didn’t stir. That was good. He needed sleep.
“Good boy,” she whispered to Plato, giving his head a scratch.
She left the house again and went back to the hospital to finish her shift. The second half passed even more quickly than the first, thanks to a motorcycle accident on the highway outside of town. It was just after three o’clock when she got home again.
Mason’s room was still quiet, except for the faint sound of his snoring.
She smiled a little to herself and went into her own bedroom, which was across the hall from his. She exchanged her scrubs for a pair of lightweight pajama pants and a tank and then—because