The Thunderbolt - Lori Wilde Page 0,28
serious. “I thought we were just co-workers.”
Bennett didn’t reply. They were just co-workers. They hadn’t known each other long enough to become friends, although not seven hours ago he’d seriously been considering becoming her lover.
He was very glad they hadn’t done anything more than kiss. Sexual relationships had a way of escalating in the flare of a crisis, even if neither party was looking to get deeply involved. The drama of sudden illness spotlighted the tenuous link between life and death and sometimes led to impulsive actions. At least, in his mind.
“You’re certainly acting like a friend,” Lacy added.
Friends. That was good, wasn’t it? Far better to settle for friendship than to make love to her and leave in a week. Long distance relationships just didn’t work. Been there, had the losses to prove it.
His common sense knew it was true, but his anatomy balked. His body wanted hers the way it carved water, food and oxygen. But sexual need and love were two very different things.
“How much farther?” he asked, hoping to distract himself.
“Almost there.” Lacy sat up straighter and stared out the window. “Follow the main road until you come to the third traffic light. Then go three miles out of town. Our farm is on the right.”
They would be arriving at the house soon, and he’d be meeting Lacy’s family. Bennett winced at the full impact of what he’d gotten himself into. A total stranger amidst a close-knit group. What would her parents make of him and his relationship to their daughter? Did Lacy bring men home often? Were they accustomed to boyfriends popping in and out of her life?
Damn. This was going to be awkward.
When he had started out last evening with Grant Tennison, Bennett had wanted nothing more than to relax, have fun, and reduce stress.
How, then, had he ended up in rural Texas town, escorting a young woman he couldn’t quite figure out? Lacy Calder was a paradox.
“This is it,” she said.
Bennett turned down the graveled driveway leading to an apple-butter-yellow, two-story frame farmhouse with a big wraparound porch. A bevy of cars were scattered across the lawn. Lots of family had shown up for the emergency, he guessed. Pink fingers of dawn reddened the eastern horizon.
He pulled to a stop beside a weathered pickup truck stocked with farming supplies and Lacy unbuckled her seat belt and opened her door.
“Hang tight until I can get over there to help you.”
He got out and from the corner of his eye noticed a clot of people forming on the front porch. Trying his best not to let the audience unnerve him, Bennett scurried to the passenger side.
“If you give me your arm, I think I can hobble up the steps,” Lacy said.
“I’m carrying you,” Bennett insisted. “I’m the doctor, so don’t argue.”
“Yes, sir.” She grinned.
His heart lurched. What was it about her smile that affected him more strongly than the high of completing a successful heart operation? The notion that a woman’s smile could be as fulfilling as his career was a new and startling concept.
Cautiously, he maneuvered her free of the car seat, hoisted her high against his chest, and started up the walkway to the house.
Amid cheers and applause, he stepped onto the porch, packed with what he could only assume were Lacy’s numerous relatives. Over two dozen people were talking at once, flinging rapid-fire questions at them. Before he could put Lacy down, Bennett found himself introduced to brothers, father, mother, sisters, grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles and neighbors.
The crowd ushered them into the house.
Dazed, Bennett merely nodded to everything. He, an only child, had never experienced the like. He remembered Nanna’s deathbed vigil, with only him, his father and the medical staff in attendance. So different from this supportive gathering.
“Everyone, hold on,” Lacy laughed, making the time-out sign with the fingertips of one hand pressed into the palm of the other hand. “Time-out. How’s Great-Gramma?”
“She’s in bed, resting,” Lacy’s mother answered.
She was a very attractive woman, no taller than Lacy, with short blond hair barely turning gray at the temples and a welcoming smile. She’d asked Bennett to call her Geneva and gently kissed his cheek. In another twenty years, Lacy would look like her.
“Wait, what? Why didn’t you take her to the hospital?” Lacy demanded.
“She refused to go,” said Great-Grandpa Kahonachek as he popped his suspenders with workworn thumbs “She wanted us to go ahead with the farm expo. You know how stubborn my Katrina can be.”
The whole clan bobbed their heads