to always choose life.
Thankfully his polo shirts now covered up that little bit of history. Some of his patients might not understand what the tattoo had come to symbolize.
He shook himself back to the present and Jason’s phone call. “I’ve just had a nurse quit on me. I don’t know if Chloe will go for it, but maybe she’d be interested in filling the spot for a while. At least until she can sort through whatever happened with Travis. Or until I can talk the nurse into coming back.”
Why was the thought of calling Katrina suddenly distasteful?
“That’s a great idea. Maybe she’s finally ready to unload the bastard.”
“Maybe.” Brad scrubbed a hand across his jaw, his eyes going back to the notes on his desk. “I’ll let you know what she says. She can stay at the apartment until she decides what she wants to do. It’s not easy to get a short-term lease nowadays.”
And just why had he offered that? He wasn’t exactly celibate, neither did he have any plans to become so. He gave an internal shrug. She was an adult. Surely they could work out some kind of arrangement. After all, it wasn’t a permanent thing. Probably a week or two at the most. She might not even go for it—he was beginning to hope she wouldn’t, in fact.
But deep down inside something whispered that he was telling the biggest lie of his life. Because he did want her to stay. Wanted to somehow keep her safe from whoever had hurt her.
And if she turned him down and walked away?
He might just have to coax her to change her mind.
“You want me to what?”
Chloe stared across the table at Brad. He was offering her a job? She toyed with the tie on the sweats he’d loaned her and tried to keep her face from flaming in renewed embarrassment. When she’d awoken coatless on a huge king-sized bed with no memory of how she’d gotten there, she’d thought for a panicked second she might have slept with him. His warm masculine scent permeated the space, from the pillow where she’d laid her head to the clothes currently enveloping her body.
But there’d been no sign that he’d slept in the bed, neither was there that familiar morning-after ache—an unpleasant side effect of sex with her husband.
But still. His offer had come out of nowhere.
Brad glanced up from the plate of takeout Yakisoba, brows raised. “One of the nurses in the prenatal unit quit unexpectedly. I wondered if you might want to fill in until we can find a permanent replacement.”
“Why?”
“Why not?” He studied her from across the table. “Unless you’re anxious to get home.”
Dammit. The fire licked along her cheeks again. She had no intention of going home—not that the monstrosity she and Travis had lived in had ever really been home. She’d already contacted a lawyer in Connecticut and started the ball rolling on her divorce. No, you weren’t supposed to make any major changes during a crisis, but she’d already decided to leave if her swan dive into the deep end of the seduction pool didn’t work.
Swan dive. Right.
Instead of a smooth, clean entry into the water, she’d landed with a belly flop that had been deafening, knocking the wind from her lungs and leaving her clawing her way to the surface.
Well, she was there now, taking her first breath of freedom after six long, suffocating years. She was never submerging herself like that ever again.
Not for anyone.
“I was actually thinking of relocating,” she said slowly, the idea taking root and sprouting its first leaf. She could do this.
Unless her father was behind Brad’s offer, just like she suspected him of being behind her promotion at the hospital. “Wait, did Daddy call and ask you to hire me?”
Brad’s eyes narrowed for a second or two. “Do you think I’m lying to you, Chloe?”
It wouldn’t be the first time she’d been lied to. “No, but …”
“But what?”
She licked her lips. “I don’t want you doing this because you feel sorry for me.” As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t seem to hold his gaze, fiddling with her chopsticks instead. “I’m filing for divorce.”
“I’m glad.”
The low voice caused her head to come up. Some knowing glimmer in the depths of Brad’s eyes caused her to bristle. As if he’d expected this outcome all along. “You and Jason never gave him a chance.”
“No. But you did.”
Yes, and now her brother and Brad were free to gloat about her stupidity behind her back. Wouldn’t she, if she were in their place?
Instead, his hand covered hers, the warmth seeping through her icy skin. “Whatever else you might think, I wanted it to work out. Wanted you to be happy.”
Just as Jason had. He’d kissed her cheek at the rehearsal dinner and whispered that very thing. “Be happy, little sis.”
She swallowed the wave of emotion. Brad had always been there for her, even though he’d never been loud and showy about it. He had always been one of the first people on the scene when something had happened—whether it had been when her sickly appendix had needed to come out, or standing beside her as she’d cried over the grave of Treehouse, her dog.
And later he and Jason had accompanied her on her first official post PADI certification dive off the New Jersey coast, and they’d later explored several local shipwreck sites. She blinked away memories of those muscular legs propelling him through the water with ease, of his fingers gripping hers as he’d tugged her away from areas he’d felt were too dangerous. He’d had no idea that he’d been the most dangerous thing in the ocean. At least to her equilibrium.
Despite those awkward moments, she’d always been able to count on him. Maybe it was time she returned the favor. If he really was in a bind, shouldn’t she be willing to lend a hand?
“Thank you.” She sighed. “About the position. I would imagine there’d be plenty of nurses ready to jump at the chance to work at Angel’s.” She loved the hospital’s nickname, loved how it seemed to fit, as if the hospital served as the guardian angel of sick children everywhere.
Brad sat back in his chair. “There are, but it’ll take time to put out a call for applications and then wade through them all.”
“What about an apartment? There’s no way I can commute from Hartford.” Neither would she want to.
“I thought you might consider staying here. I have an extra bedroom. I’m sure we could stay out of each other’s hair.”
She bit her lip. Speaking of bedrooms, she’d noticed there was no way to lock the door of his room. Oh, there was a keyhole, but no key to secure it that she could see. The same held true for the bathroom. When she’d looked at the other doors—with the exception of the front door—she’d found the same thing. No keys for any of them. He lived alone, so he probably didn’t think anything of it, but if she stayed here she wanted to be able to at least lock the bathroom.
His voice broke through. “What are you thinking?”
She scrambled around for an answer and finally just blurted it out. “Where are your keys?”
“Keys?”
“For all your doors.”
His face went utterly still for a second or two then he shrugged. “There’s no one else living here, so I haven’t felt the need to mess with them.”
Just as she’d thought. “But you do have them somewhere, right?”
“I do.” There was something strange about the way he answered her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it so she tried a different