Hot Docs On Call: Tinseltown Cinderella

“Well, I’m working days tomorrow, so you can spend the whole day using my computer and phone and maybe start straightening out everything you need to.”

She nodded. “I do have some people I owe a call.” Deep in thought, she probably went straight to the gazillion things she’d have to do to re-create herself and begin a new life for her and her baby in a new state. He wouldn’t want to be in her shoes, and wished he could somehow help even more. Would that go beyond his promise to watch over her?

At least the social worker and the police department had started the ball rolling on a few things. But, man, what a mess she had to clean up, especially since she hadn’t wanted her family notified of her whereabouts. Why was that?

Joe wanted to ask her about her living situation back home, but suspected she’d shut down on him like a trapdoor if he did this soon, so he tucked those questions into his “bring up later” file. With an ironic inward laugh, he supposed they had a lot in common, not wanting to bring up the past and all. “You feel like watching a little TV?” He figured she could use something to distract her from all the things she’d have to tackle tomorrow.

“I’d like that but only after you let me clean up from dinner.”

“Only if you’ll let me help.” Hell, could they get any more polite?

She smiled. “So after we do the dishes, what would you like to watch?”

“You choose.” Yeah, he’d let his guest make all the decisions tonight. It was the right thing to do.

“I like that show about zombies.”

“Seriously?” He never would have pegged her as a horror fan. “It’s my favorite, too, but I didn’t think it would be good for your bambino.”

“Ha,” she said, picking up the dishes from the bench table on the outdoor deck. “After what this little one has been through already, a pretend TV show should be a walk in the park.” She glanced down at her stomach while heading inside and toward the kitchen. “Isn’t that right, sweetie pie.”

There he went grinding his molars again. He followed her in and watched her put the dishes on the counter and unconsciously pat her abdomen then smile. That simple act sent a flurry of quick memories about Angela and how excited they’d once been when she’d first found out she’d gotten pregnant. They’d been about to give up trying since it had been over a year, had even had fertility tests done. They’d rationalized that because they were both paramedics and under a lot of stress, and he worked extended hours trying to make a good impression with Dr. Rothsberg, that was the reason she’d been unable to get pregnant.

So they’d taken a quickie vacation. Then one day, wham, she magically announced she was expecting. Joe had practically jumped over the moon that night, he’d been so happy. They’d finally start their own version of a big happy family. Since Angela’s body had gotten the hang of getting pregnant, he’d planned to talk her into having a few more kids after this one. He’d walked on air for a couple of months...until his fertility report had dropped into the mailbox. Late. Very, very late.

What a fool he’d been.

Trying to give his overworked jaw a break, Joe went to town scrubbing the grill from the barbecue as if it was a matter of life and death. By the time they’d finished with the cleanup, he didn’t know about Carey any more, but he definitely needed the distraction of some mindless TV viewing.

She sat on the small couch, passing him along the way, and he caught the scent of her shampoo again. It was a fresh, fruity summer kind of smell with a touch of coconut, which when he’d bought it for her had never planned for it to be a minor form of torture.

Mixed up about his feelings for the smart and easygoing nurse from Illinois, he intentionally sat on the chair opposite the couch, not ready to get too close to her again tonight. It brought up too many bad memories, and he so did not want to go there. There was only so much boxing a guy could do in a day. Torture sounded better than reliving his failed marriage. He clicked on the TV right on time for the show they both liked to escape to. If zombies couldn’t make him forget how attracted he was to the lovely stranger living in his house, nothing could.

* * *

Carey put her head on the pillow of the surprisingly comfortable guest bed, thinking it was the first time she could remember feeling safe in ages. Things had gotten super-tense living with Ross those last few weeks, and, talk about the worst timing in the world, she’d gotten pregnant right around the time she’d known she had to leave him.

She didn’t want to think about that now, because it would keep her awake, and she was really tired. It’d felt so normal and relaxing to sit and watch TV with Joe. He’d made the best barbecue chicken she’d ever eaten and she’d made a pig out of herself over the baked potato with all the toppings, but she chalked it up to his making her feel so welcome. The only problem was she couldn’t get the vision of him in his boxing shorts, working out with the punchbag, out of her mind. Wow, his lean body had showcased every muscle in his arms and across his back as he’d punched. His movements had been fluid and nothing short of perfection. Not to mention his washboard stomach and powerful legs. The guy didn’t have an ounce of fat on him.

What on earth was she thinking? Her life was in a shambles. She had an unborn baby to take care of. The last thing she should be thinking about was a man.

A naturally sexy man with kind brown eyes and a voice soothing enough to give her chills. She squeezed her eyes tight and shook her head on the pillow.

When she finally settled down and began to drift off to sleep she realized this was the first day she’d ever felt positive about her and the baby’s future in three months. Things would work out for her, she just knew it. Because she, with the help of Joe, would make sure they did.

A slight smile crossed her lips as a curtain of sleep inched its way down until all was dark and she peacefully crossed into sweet dreams. Thanks to Joe.

CHAPTER FOUR

ON MONDAY, AFTER working all day, Joe insisted Carey come out with him for dinner, which was fine with her because she’d felt kind of cooped up. They ate at a little diner, then he showed her around Santa Monica, like the perfect host. She got the distinct impression it was to get them, and keep them, out of the house, because sometimes things felt too close there.

At least, that’s how it felt for her, and sometimes she sensed it was the same for him. The guy seemed to bite down on his jaw a lot! But she soon ignored her worries about him not wanting her around and went straight to loving seeing the beach and the Pacific Ocean, and especially the Santa Monica pier.

On Tuesday Joe had the day off, and he dutifully took her shopping for more clothes at a place called the Beverly Center. They checked the directory and he guided her to the few stores she’d shown interest in, then he stood outside in the mall area, giving her space to shop. Clearly he wanted nothing to do with helping her choose clothes, rather he just did what he thought he should do out of courtesy to her situation. She protested all the way when he insisted on paying for everything. She sensed his generosity was based on some sense of charitable obligation, and she only accepted his offer when he’d agreed to let her repay him once she was back on her feet. She’d be sure to keep a tally because things were quickly adding up!

Wednesday morning, before he started an afternoon shift, he chauffeured her around to the Department of Motor Vehicles for a temporary driving license, and since she’d received a check from her old job he also helped her open a bank account. She decided the guy was totally committed to helping her, like he’d signed some paper or made some pact to do it. And she certainly appreciated everything he’d done for her, but...

Even though he was easy enough to be around, she felt it was out of total obligation to treat people right in life. Far too often she sensed a disconnect between his courtesy and that safe distance he insisted on keeping between them. Well, if that’s what he wanted, she knew exactly how to live that way. Her parents had, sadly, been perfect role models in that regard.

* * *

Joe got home on Wednesday night to a quiet house. Carey had said hello, but now kept mostly to herself in her room. It made him wonder if he’d done something to offend her. He’d been trying his best to make her feel at home, though admittedly he may have been going about it robotically. But that seemed the only way he could deal with having a woman in his life again. Since he worked the a.m. shift the next day, he didn’t get a chance to ask Carey if he’d put her off or if her withdrawal had nothing to do with him. Something was definitely on her mind, and under the circumstances, being battered, bruised, mugged, homeless, and completely vulnerable, not to mention living with a stranger, he could understand why.

Maybe he’d come off aloof or unapproachable at times. But she had no idea how nearly unbearable it was to fix meals with her when it reminded him how much he missed being married. And having Carey there twenty-four seven, with her friendly smile and naturally sweet ways, was nearly making him come unhinged. She deserved someone to share things with, to talk to, but it couldn’t be him. Nope. He was nowhere near ready or able to be her sounding board. All he’d signed up for was offering her a place to live.

Maybe he could arrange for some follow-up visits with the social worker at the clinic. That way she could get what she wanted and needed and he wouldn’t have to be the person listening. Because when a woman vented, from his past experience with Angela, he knew she always expected something in return. Nope, no way would he unload his lousy past on Carey, no matter how much she might think she wanted him to. The lady had far too much on her plate as it was, and, truthfully, reliving such pain was the last thing he ever wanted to do. The social worker was definitely the right person to step in, and he planned to ask Helena to follow up the next day.

On Thursday evening, Joe came home to find Carey scrubbing the kitchen floor. From the looks of the rest of the house, she’d been cleaning all day.

“What’s up?” he asked.

She was so focused on the floor-scrubbing she didn’t notice him. He stepped closer but not onto the wet kitchen tiles.

“Am I that much of a slob?” he tried to joke, but she didn’t laugh. Something was definitely eating at her. “Carey?”

Finally she heard him and shook her head as if she’d been in a trance and looked at him. “Hi.” Not sounding the least bit enthusiastic.

“Everything okay?”

She stopped pushing the mop handle. “Just trying to pay you back for all you’re doing for me.”

Damn. She may as well have sliced him with a knife. “You don’t have to be my house cleaner, you know.”

“What else can I do?” The obvious “else” not being to sleep together.

Why was that the first thought to come to his mind? Cripes, she had him mixed up. He used her clear frustration as a springboard to what his latest mission on Carey’s behalf had been. “I, uh, spoke to the social worker today—the one who helped you while you were in the hospital—and she said she’d love to keep in touch.” He’d totally reworded their true conversation, trying to make it sound casual, not necessary, but the truth was he’d talked at great length with Helena at work about Carey’s precarious situation. The social worker wanted to keep connected with Carey and promised to call her right away.

“Yes. Thanks. She called earlier today. I’m going to have a phone appointment with her on Monday.”

“That’s great.” He almost said, I hope it helps you snap out of your funk, but kept that thought to himself because a sneaky part of him worried he’d put her there. He knew too well how unhelpful being told to snap out of it could be, especially when a person was nowhere near ready. He would protect Carey in any way he could, and felt she shouldn’t be nervous all the time. But he’d never been in her shoes, and...

Then it dawned on him. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? The woman was a nurse. Nurses were always busy on the job. She was used to helping people, not the other way around. She was probably going crazy with so much time on her hands and nothing to do but watch TV or read while he was away every day. But she’d had a head trauma and needed to heal. “Do you feel ready to go back to work?”

She shifted from being intent on cleaning to suddenly looking deflated. “That’s the thing, I can’t until the California RN license comes through. Plus I still feel foggy-headed from the concussion. At this point I’d worry I might hurt some poor unsuspecting patient or something. But on another level my energy is coming back, and I’m feeling really restless.”

That damn mugger had not only stolen her identity and money but also her confidence. He thought quickly. It was early summer, people went on vacations. “I think there might be some temporary slots to fill in while people go on vacation. Jobs that don’t require a nursing license.”

She stopped mopping and looked at him, definite interest in her eyes.

“For instance, I know of a ward clerk on the second floor who’s getting ready to visit her family back east for two weeks. Maybe you could fill in on something like that. Sort of keep your hand in medicine but in a safer position until you feel back to your old self.”

She rested her chin on the mop handle. “How can I just walk in off the street and expect to get a job in a hospital like The Hollywood Hills Clinic?”

He flashed an overconfident grin he hadn’t used in a long time. “By knowing a guy like me? I could put in a good word to Dr. Rothsberg for you. What do you say?”

The fingers of one hand flew to her mouth as she thought. “That would be great. But it would also mean I’d have to quit my job back home.” Worry returned to her brow.

Joe was sure he was missing out on another story, probably something huge. Like, who she was running away from, and would they come after her? If only he could get her to open up. This was stuff he needed to know if he expected to protect her. Rather than press her right then, he let her finish her task and went to his room. Besides, he needed time to figure things out for himself, like the fact that he both totally looked forward to seeing her each day but dreaded how it made him feel afterwards.

After he changed into workout clothes, he headed to the back porch for some boxing, since it was the one sure way to help him blow off steam. Well into his usual routine, while she was in the other room, watching TV, he wondered if, in fact, the guy who’d given Carey her shiner might come after her, and an idea popped into his head. “Hey, Carey, come out here a minute, would you?”

Within seconds she showed up looking perplexed, and maybe like she’d rather be watching TV. Yeah, she’d probably already had it with living with him.

“Since you were mugged recently, and I’m sure you never want to go through that again, would you like me to show you a couple of moves?”

She looked hesitant, like learning a few self-defense maneuvers might bring back too many bad memories.

“Maybe it’s too soon,” he quickly.

“No, I can’t keep hiding out at your house. I know there’s a bus stop right down at the end of your street, and I shouldn’t be afraid to use it.” She nodded, a flicker of fight in her eyes. “Yeah, show me how I could have kept that creep from dragging me into the alley that night.”

“That’s the attitude,” Joe said with a victorious smile. She smiled back, that spirited flash intensifying.

“Okay.” He clapped his hands once. “I saw the guy grab you by the wrist and pull you away that night. So, first off, a lot of the information that’s on the internet for ladies’ self-defense is bogus. Here’s something that works. When that guy grabbed your wrist, you could have used your other hand to push into his eyes, or, if he wore glasses, you could have gone for his throat. With either move you also could have included a knee to the groin. That stuff hurts the attacker and surprises them. Knocks them off balance. Let me show you.”

He grabbed Carey’s right wrist and immediately felt her tense, making him think maybe he was right and it was too early to do this lesson with her. But he was committed now and pressed on, and she had enough anger in her eyes to put it to good use.

“Okay, use your left hand and go for my face,” He showed her how to make an open, claw-like spread with the fingers and how to jab it at a person’s face to do the most damage. “Get those fingers on my eyes and press with all your might.”

She followed his instructions and went for his eyes.

“Ow!” He reacted and pushed her hand back to keep her from injuring him.

“Sorry!”

“Don’t be sorry, fight for your life. It’s up to me to keep you from hurting me. You just caught me off guard. Got it?”

She gave one firm and committed nod.

“That’s the spirit. If the guy foils that move with his other hand, like I just did, make sure you put your knee to his groin at the same time.” He flashed a charming grin. “Don’t actually do that one now, okay?”

She laughed, and it felt good to get her to relax a little.

“Just knee him in the groin area and later you can practice kneeing the heck out of that boxing bag.”

“Got it, boss.” Yes, she was really into this now.

He said, “Go!” and grabbed her left wrist this time, and she moved like lightning for his face and eyes, driving her knee into his groin at the same time. Being prepared for the move, in case she got overzealous, which she obviously had, he brought his own knee up and across to protect himself, letting her full force hit his thigh. If he hadn’t, he’d have been on his hands and knees, riding out the pain, right now.

He didn’t want to discourage her efforts but, damn, that could have hurt! “Good.” Up close, their eyes locked. He could hear her breathing hard and felt the pulse in her wrist quicken. The fire in her green-eyed stare made him take notice. He stepped back, releasing her wrist. “That was good.”

She rubbed her wrist and searched the floor with her gaze, making a quick recovery. This wasn’t easy to relive, he understood that, but keeping the same thing from ever happening again was more important than her current comfort zone.

“Now do the same thing, going for my throat.” He showed her the wide V of his hand between the thumb and index finger and demonstrated how to drive it into the Adam’s apple area of the attacker’s neck. “Since most guys, like that scumbag the other night, will be taller than you, force your hand upward with all you’ve got. Okay?”

Carey agreed and he immediately grabbed her hand, trying to catch her off guard. Something clicked, like she’d gone back in time. She went into attack mode and because he wasn’t ready for it she got him good in the throat. He coughed and sputtered and backed away to recover, and only then did she realize she’d shifted from demonstration to true life.

“I’m sorry!” she squealed, grabbing her face with her hands, as if just snapping out of a bad dream.

He swallowed, trying to get his voice back. “That’s the way. See how it works? I dropped your hand, and that means you could have run off screaming for help at that point.”

“Oh, Joe.” Carey rushed to him. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.” She touched his shoulder and, without thinking, he reacted by opening his arms. Carey threw her arms around him and squeezed. “Can I get you some water? Anything?”

“Maybe a new throat,” he teased, though he really liked having her arms around him, the realization nearly making him lose his balance. She smelled a hell of a lot better than he did, and up close, like this, her eyes were by far the prettiest he’d ever seen in his life, though fear seemed to have the best of them right now.

Surprised, no, more like stunned by how moved she’d been when grappling with Joe, Carey held him perhaps a second too long. Fear still pounded in her chest. At first the lesson had brought out all the bad memories she’d been trying to force down a few months before leaving home and definitely since coming to Hollywood. Ross had changed from attentive boyfriend to jealous predator. He had frightened her. He’d also grabbed her by the wrist like that on several occasions, each time scaring her into submission. Then the creep at the bus station must have seen her as an easy mark, sensed her fear, and grabbed her the same way, pulling her into the alley.

She hated feeling like a victim!

Anger had erupted as horrible memories had collided with Joe’s grip on her wrist. She’d never be a victim again, damn it. Never. Suddenly fighting for her life all over again, she’d switched to kill mode and had practically pushed his larynx out the back of his neck. Darn it! She hadn’t meant to hurt him, not the man who’d saved her and taken her in, but she clearly had.

Now, being skin to skin with her incredibly fit and appealing roommate had changed the topic foremost in her mind. Being in Joe’s arms wiped out her fear and she shifted from fighting for her life to being completely turned on. What was it about Joe?

So confusing. It wasn’t right.

Obviously her concussion was still messing with her judgment.

In a moment of clarity she broke away and strode to the kitchen to get him a glass of water, trying to recover before she brought it to him.

“What about pepper spray?” She schooled her voice to sound casual, completely avoiding his eyes, as if she hadn’t just survived a flashback and had flung herself into Joe’s arms. There was nothing wrong with a decoy topic to throw him off the scent, right? The man had turned her on simply by touching her. Pitiful. Blame it on the head injury.

“First you have to get it out of your purse, right?”

She nodded, quickly realizing the fault in her premise. He stood shirtless, damp from his workout, skin shiny and all his muscles on display. Cut and ripped. A work of art. She handed him the glass. Thought about handing him his T-shirt so he’d cover up and make her life a little safer for the moment, or less tempting anyway. At least it seemed easier for him to swallow now and that made her grateful she hadn’t caused any permanent damage. Could she have? If so, he’d just given her a huge gift of self-protection. No way would she let herself be a victim. By God, she’d never let anyone hurt her again.

“Plus, I’ve heard about guys who’ve been sprayed and didn’t even react,” he continued. “Also, when you’re scared or nervous, you might spray all over the place and not hit the eyes.”

She kept nodding, watching him, completely distracted by his physique, unable to really listen, wishing she’d brought herself a cool drink too. Surely her head injury had left her brain unbalanced, taking her back to the worst moments in her life one second and then the next rushing into the realm of all things sensual.

“Your hands and your knees are your best defense. Want to practice again?”

She sucked in a breath and shook her head quickly. This was all too confusing. “I think that’s enough for tonight.”

He put down his glass on the nearby table, folded an arm across his middle, rested the other elbow on it and held his chin with his thumb and bent fingers, biting his lower lip and nailing her with a sexy, playful gaze. “Chicken, eh?”

Joe had saved her life. He’d also just given her a great gift of learning self-defense. And there was that sexy sparkle in his eyes right now...

“Are you challenging me?” Suddenly awash with tiny prickles of excitement again, she moved toward him and grabbed his wrist with all her might. “Let’s see you fight your way out of this one, buddy.” She knew she didn’t have a chance in hell of keeping hold but enjoyed the moment, and especially grappling with the hunk. When was the last time she’d had fun horsing around with a man and not felt the least bit afraid or vulnerable?

She trusted Joe not to hurt her.

He swung his free arm around behind her and pulled her close, pretending to get her in a head lock but quickly moving into a backward hug. “I don’t suggest you ever let your attacker get you in this position,” he said playfully over the shell of her ear.