From Dare to Due Date Page 3

  Opening his eyes, he squinted and looked around the dark hotel room. Old habits kicked in and he stayed silent until his hazy brain could register where he was and whom he was with. The memories from last night came flooding back and even though he sensed he was alone, he looked around, confirming his disappointment.

  She was gone.

  The caller must’ve been impatient because he heard the dial tone instead of more questions. He’d just hung up when the phone let out another shrill ring.

  “Hello,” he said, this time more clearly but with some added annoyance.

  “You again?” the same person demanded. “Is this room eight oh four?”

  “I have no idea,” Garrett replied before thinking better of it. He sat up and flipped on the light switch by the bed, but it took a second for his eyes to adjust enough to focus on the numbers typed into the printed directory on the telephone. “Uh, yeah, it is. Can I help you?”

  He heard mumbled voices on the other end, then the caller told a person in the background, “It’s her room, but some guy answered.”

  Wait, did they know the woman from last night? “Excuse me. Hello? Do you know the woman who was staying in this room?”

  “Oh, my gosh! Is there a problem?” The caller’s voice became frantic. “Did something happen to her?”

  Heck, he wasn’t trying to scare anyone or cause an alarm. “What? No. I...uh...met her last night, but I didn’t catch her name.”

  “If you don’t know her name then why are you in her room?”

  That was a damn good question. And one he didn’t have an answer for.

  “Is anyone there?” After a few seconds, the caller said, “Maybe we should call hotel security.”

  “No.” Garrett stood up. “No need to call security. I think she left. She invited me up here and...” He let his voice trail off, not wanting to get the woman he’d slept with in trouble.

  “No way. She would never invite some guy up to her hotel room.”

  Clearly, this person wasn’t going to give him any answers and he couldn’t very well defend himself without incriminating someone else. “Oh, did you say you were calling room eight oh four? Sorry, this is room four oh eight. Apparently, there’s been a mix-up. Have a nice day.”

  He quickly slammed the receiver down and tried to think about what to do next. But his brain wasn’t adapting as quickly as it used to when he’d get startled out of a deep slumber. Garrett had been a heavy sleeper ever since med school. When he was a resident at the Naval Medical Center in San Diego, he’d learned to crash whenever he got the chance. If there was an emergency, then an on-duty corpsman would be there to wake him up.

  That must be why he’d never even heard the woman leave.

  He stood in the hotel room, wearing nothing but a confused expression, looking at the tangled four-hundred-thread-count sheets and the empty bottle of champagne near the bed. He studied his bare torso in the mirror over the dresser and noticed the faint purple hue of a love bite on the left side of his neck. He ran a hand through his still-short military haircut, which made his already tender head ache even more. What could he possibly have been thinking to come back to a hotel room with a woman he’d just met?

  Being raised with video cameras always hovering nearby, Garrett had learned to be especially cautious not to let anyone get too close to him for fear that they were after something bigger—like a shot at television stardom. Growing up under the harsh lights of studio sets back when his dad had been the star of his own television talk show, then later a producer of a string of other reality series, Garrett had suffered the spillover effects of being followed by the Hollywood paparazzi who constantly linked him to his dad’s notoriety.

  He was thirty-six years old and still had a difficult time discerning women who were genuinely interested in him from those who were on the hunt for their fifteen minutes of fame.

  And judging by the way the beautiful woman had sneaked out this morning without a trace, it was obvious she hadn’t been looking for much more than a good time. Or a notch in her D-list celebrity belt.

  How could he have been so stupid?

  Had his father set this up? Had she been sent by the show’s assistants? Was the caller standing outside right now with a camera, hoping to catch them in the act? He hadn’t watched any of his dad’s shows in several years, but at dinner last night, his old man had confided that ratings were down and if they couldn’t breathe some new life into the series, he could be facing cancellation.

  God, he hoped this wasn’t some sort of last-ditch publicity stunt.

  No. He was pretty sure his gut reaction last night had been on target. The caller sounded surprised that the woman would take a man up to her room. So hopefully she had simply been a lonely traveler looking for a little excitement and companionship.

  His official discharge from the military was right around the corner and he didn’t want to worry about any risqué photos or incriminating evidence ruining his career.

  Still. He’d hate for any news about him to leak to the press. He’d spent his whole adult life avoiding the cameras, and the only place he’d been able to feel comfortable in his own skin was in the navy. Garrett had purposely volunteered for the most remote assignments whenever possible just to escape the constant media attention that came from being Dr. Gerald McCormick’s son.

  He damn well wasn’t going to blow his cover now, which was exactly what he’d told his father at dinner yesterday evening when they’d gotten into their heated argument about the career path he’d just taken.

  Garrett sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at the abandoned luggage stand in the open closet. He remembered the woman had an open suitcase there last night. And she’d already had a key to this room when they’d come upstairs. He let out a breath and eased back onto the bed. So she had obviously been a registered hotel guest, and since even he had no idea that he’d end up at some hotel bar when he’d stormed out of the restaurant a few blocks away, then nobody would’ve had the foresight to set him up.

  That was one crisis averted. There was also the fact that he’d been the one who’d approached her. Fragments of conversation were slowly coming back to him. She’d said she was a dancer—well, she’d definitely had the lithe and graceful body to prove it. She’d also mentioned not being from Boise. Maybe she was just some bored housewife who had to fly home before her husband and kids woke up.

  Wait, she’d said she didn’t have kids. He couldn’t remember anything about a husband, but would she have been honest if she’d had one?

  He pulled a pillow over his head, wishing he could bury his shame along with his guilt. He took a deep breath, hoping he wasn’t the cause of some poor cuckold’s broken heart. But inhaling was a big mistake because when he did, the lingering aroma of jasmine tickled his nose, reminding him of her intoxicating fragrance and of how he hadn’t been able to get enough of her heady scent. Of how he’d smelled, kissed and tasted every square inch of the woman’s perfect, flexible body last night.

  Crap. The woman? He still didn’t even know her name.

  This wasn’t like him. Lieutenant Commander Garrett McCormick was a trained battlefield surgeon and an orthopedic specialist. He was cool under pressure and never got rattled. He for sure never let his guard down and didn’t do anything unbecoming an officer. So then why had he allowed some sad-eyed, incredibly stunning woman get to him? What had come over him?

  He took one last sniff and then threw the pillow to the floor. Lust, he thought before standing up and striding toward the bathroom. That’s what had gotten into him. Pure, old-fashioned lust combined with frustration at his old man and a need to establish his autonomy with a woman who’d actually taken the time to listen to him and could relate to having an overbearing and egotistical parent.

  He wasn’t his dad. He didn’t sleep with every beautiful woman w
ho fluttered her eyelashes at him. But Garrett deserved to have a little companionship in his life, didn’t he?

  He stepped into the shower and turned the water on as hot as he could stand it before trying to unscrew the cap off the miniscule shampoo bottle. He’d wash all trace of the woman from his body and then try to banish all indications of last night’s events from his mind.

  The problem was, he didn’t think he could forget how perfect she’d felt in his arms. How warm and willing she’d been when he’d eased himself inside her. Or how her breath came in short gasps when she’d reached her peak and begged him not to stop.

  Man. He needed to get over it. To get over her.

  He dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist before going out into the room to look for his clothes. He spotted his smartphone on the bedside table, and his heart flipped over when he recalled her slim fingers running along his screen in the bar, showing him how to block his incoming calls.

  Maybe she had programmed her telephone number in his list of contacts.

  His pulse picked up speed as he scrolled through his phone, only to slow down until it was a disappointing lump in his throat. Nope, there was nothing but four missed calls from his father and one from his dad’s assistant, Marty. Well, Dad and Marty would have to wait until hell froze over.

  Control yourself, McCormick. He hated getting worked up like this. But he was angry with himself for falling for the beautiful woman in the first place and coming upstairs with her. And he was angry with her for disappearing into thin air.

  He got dressed and took one last look around the room, maybe so that he could memorize this moment or maybe because he was searching for one last clue about the woman’s identity. A knock sounded and his stomach flipped over.

  Was that her? Had she come back after all? Or was it security?

  He opened the heavy door and frowned when he saw a tall, older lady in a maid’s uniform. “Sorry.” She spoke in halting English. “I thought you checked out already.”

  She picked up the clipboard hanging off her service cart, as though to make sure she hadn’t made a mistake. Likely, she hadn’t, and the woman who’d spent the evening with him had in fact checked out of the hotel. Garrett took a step closer, thinking he might be able to find out the woman’s name by looking at the guest info sheet.

  But the motion forced him to accidentally release the room door, and it whooshed closed with a heavy thunk. The sound caused the maid to look up at him sharply, and she pulled the clipboard to her gray uniform. She stared at him and he glanced at the locked knob and realized he couldn’t get back in.

  If he stood here much longer, this employee would also realize that he didn’t have a key and he had no way to prove that he was a guest of the hotel. The walkie-talkie on her cart crackled to life and Garrett decided the last thing he needed was to have security made aware of his presence.

  “Yes, my wife already checked us out,” Garrett finally said, thankful he’d at least gotten dressed and that his wallet and keys were still in his pants pocket. “I’m supposed to meet her at the bar.”

  What in the world had made a confirmed bachelor like him refer to the woman from last night as his wife? Or mention that they were meeting at a bar. Who met at a bar at oh eight hundred?

  The maid lifted an eyebrow at him and he couldn’t blame her for being suspicious. Then again, this was a hotel and he was sure the employees had seen more scandalous behavior than his. But just to be on the safe side, he pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and handed it to her. “Here. We forgot to leave a tip for the turndown service last night,” he mumbled before making his way to the elevator and down to the lobby.

  The bar was deserted except for the lone bartender reading a newspaper and a busboy wiping down the tables from the night before. He flashed back to a memory of entering the lounge last night, hell-bent on drinking his anger away. The nerve of his dad trying to talk him into moving back to California to film a new show. Those cuff links had been the icing on the smug cake his father had served after dinner over a nice cold glass of familial guilt.

  Garrett patted his coat pocket and pulled out the velvet case. He snapped it open, a visual reminder of what had brought him storming in here last night.

  Then he frowned when he realized one of the cuff links was missing. Had he left it in the room? He looked back at the bank of elevators and wondered if it was worth the risk of having the maid call security on him. He remembered taking them out of his pocket last night as he and the woman had been drinking. But before they’d left, he clearly recalled her handing the box back to him. She must have known that he wasn’t the kind of guy who would throw away something so personal and expensive, even if he didn’t understand his father’s purpose in presenting him with such a questionable gift.

  He also remembered picking up both his jacket and the cuff link case off the elevator floor last night, then smiled at the memory of how those items had gotten there in the first place. He walked back over to the elevators and wasted several minutes looking into each one for the missing cuff link. But like the woman from last night, it was long gone.

  So then what happened to it?

  And what had happened to her?

  The front desk was busy and Garrett quickly dismissed the thought of asking the clerk for a guest’s information. The cleaning lady upstairs had eyeballed him as if he was a criminal. So what was he supposed to ask the college-age-looking kid behind the desk? Excuse me, but can you tell me the name of the woman who was staying in room eight oh four? I spent the night with her, but I never thought to ask her myself.

  Please. Maybe if this was some no-tell motel, he could bribe the employee. But he doubted that a high-quality establishment, which had most likely already been put on notice by his mystery caller this morning, would be willing to bend the rules.

  And did he really want it leaked to the press who was asking? He’d be lucky if he didn’t appear on some sleazy tabloid show for this stunt.

  His thoughts were circling around like the whirling blades of a Huey helicopter, and he couldn’t decide on a course of action.

  Or inaction for that matter. Maybe he’d just dodged a bullet. It wasn’t as though he was in the market for a relationship anyway, so he really didn’t need the extra chaos that this situation might cause. Especially during this transitional time in his life. It was best to get the woman and this whole experience out of his mind.

  Leaving the hotel, he walked down the busy Boise street to where he’d left his car, doing a double take at any woman with long dark hair to see if it was her. His cell phone vibrated in his pocket and when he pulled it out, he saw Matt Cooper’s name on the screen. A year ago, the chief of police for Sugar Falls had been one of Garrett’s more stubborn patients. But the former marine had also become a friend and had been instrumental in talking him into opening a specialized clinic in the small Idaho town.

  Cooper had sold him on the concept that where there was a tourist trade that catered to extreme sports such as downhill skiing, river rafting and hiking, there was a need for orthopedic surgeons. It wasn’t a hard sell since not only was the town unpretentious and as far removed from the limelight as Garrett could get, it also desperately needed a physician who could actually serve the local community for the better.

  “What’s happening, Coop?” Garrett said by way of greeting.

  “I just got off the phone with Mayor Johnston and the city approved the zoning for converting that old lumber mill you bought into medical offices. My wife’s friend has a brother who is doing some contracting and thinks he can have a crew start construction tomorrow.”

  “Is he any good?”

  “As far as I can tell. But now that you’re going to be living in a small town, it’s best to realize that’s how they do things here.” Cooper was a transplant himself, first from Detroit and then the military, and during
a previous conversation he’d confided that he was still adapting to the slower-paced life. “Everyone knows somebody who is related to someone else who can get things done for you. It took me a while to get used to it, but the system can be beneficial.”

  “Okay. Have him email me an estimate and a contract. As long as people up there know how to mind their own business, then I’ll hire whoever they want.”

  Coop laughed. “Now, I didn’t say they know how to mind their own business. But the community as a whole is a tight-knit group, and if they like you well enough, they wouldn’t sell you out to some big-city paparazzi. How did that talk with your old man go, by the way?”

  Cooper was one of the few people who knew Garrett was related to the famous television producer. But that’s because the guy would investigate the depth lines on a ship’s anchor if he felt like it. And when he’d been hospitalized with two consecutive knee surgeries and nothing else to look forward to, the marine had been bored enough to investigate his surgeon.

  “It went as expected. He wanted what he always wants, which is for me to return to California and start filming alongside him. I told him about my new plans. He said there’s no reason for me to go into private practice in some—no offense—Podunk town where my patients will only be able to pay for my services in taxidermy animals and squirrel meat casserole.”

  “Ouch. Although, that’s what I expected, too, before I actually visited Sugar Falls.”

  “Well, let’s hope for everyone’s sake that my dad and his entourage of cameras never decide to visit.” Garrett thought about his former patient’s family history and realized he might sound like a spoiled, ungrateful child. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the man. But I should’ve known better than to meet him last night. If it weren’t for that stupid dinner, I never would’ve gotten so pissed off and...”

  What? He never would’ve walked to the hotel bar and experienced the most magical evening in his life?

  Of course, he couldn’t say any of that to Cooper. Even though the two men’s relationship was moving into friendship territory, Garrett wasn’t ready to confess to anyone that his unsinkable heart had nearly been caught in a rip current.