Playboy's Promise Page 3

  Her friend chewed silently for a moment, watching Marley with a thoughtful expression. Finally, she nodded. “Maybe. But you have to admit Dustin was nice to look at.”

  Glad to have the conversation steered to calmer waters, Marley burst into laughter. “Choka nice to look at! That dimple!”

  “Oh my gosh, right?” Caroline waved her chopsticks in mid-air. “I told you all Quinn male cousins have that one dimple, yeah? Well, all of them are as hot as Travis!”

  “As hot as Dustin, you mean,” Marley teased. “Are you sure you’re marrying the right cousin?”

  Caroline was still snickering. “Dusty’s nice, but he’s not my Travis! Besides, he doesn’t date seriously and thinks even less about getting married.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  She’d noticed him looking over all the women in swimsuits at the water park, and she’d seen that sexy little grin on his lips as he did it. He was a man who knew his appeal, and didn’t mind using it. The way he’d flaunted those gorgeous abs after pulling off his shirt, had told her that. Those gorgeous abs, and those perfect pecs, and those muscular forearms, with just a sprinkling of light hair on them…

  Laughing at herself now, Marley shook her head. “But he sure is a hottie.”

  “Hottie?” Caroline teased.

  “Hey, it’s my legs that don’t work—”

  “Not your eyes. Yeah, yeah!” Caroline stuck out her tongue, then asked, “Want me to invite him on a double date?”

  “What? No!” Marley’s eyes went wide. “Guys like that don’t want to date someone like me.”

  “Why not?” Caroline frowned. “You’re awesome. Dustin would be lucky to date someone like you.”

  “Listen, I know that, and you know that, Caro. But a guy like Dustin…?” Marley shook her head once more, thinking again how Travis’s cousin had eyeballed all the women in bikinis. “He’s physically perfect, yeah? And he knows it. And he’s interested in women who match him.”

  Caroline lunged forward and closed her hand over Marley’s just like before. “You’re perfect the way you are, Mar.”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty choka I get it.” Marley blew off the compliment by pretending to agree, but then her expression turned serious. “I’m happy with who I am, for real. I am awesome, and one day I’ll meet a guy who isn’t weirded out by my wheels, who can see me for me. And when that happens, I’ll be happy too. But until then, I’m cool with how things are. I’ll keep on being the best me I can be, and keep spreading the word about people like me.”

  Caroline squeezed her hand. “I’m so flippin’ proud of you, girl.”

  “Hey, I’m proud of me too!” She twisted her hand on the tablecloth so her fingers were wrapped around her best friend’s. “I’m proud of us. We’re all grown up and going places.”

  Caroline smiled, and Marley felt…at peace. No matter where she went, it was nice to know she could talk to her best friend whenever she wanted. But nothing could compare to sitting beside her, laughing and hugging and teasing.

  “Love you, Mar,” Caroline said softly.

  “Love you too, Caro.”

  It was hard to believe her bestie would be getting married in a few short weeks, but Marley couldn’t be happier for her. And since Caroline was the one who was always pushing her to do more, Marley figured she owed it to her friend to walk down the aisle as best she could.

  And if that meant scheduling an appointment with Travis to talk about the exoskeleton, she’d do it. Maybe she’d even get to see Dustin’s dimple again.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Thursdays at the office were always busy since Dustin didn’t see clients on Fridays. He felt as if he’d been running back and forth all day, and the patients were beginning to blend together in his head. But he did get a bit of a break after Ambrosia’s appointment, and he needed it. The woman had pulled a muscle in her back doing “something aerobatic”—since she was newly married to one of his cousin Bobling’s Marine buddies, Dustin made a very firm point to not ask what she’d been doing. And although he’d adjusted her, he’d also recommended she book a massage at the spa.

  The woman was always a handful, although Dustin was just as charming as always. But after she’d waved her goodbyes, he slumped against the reception desk and allowed his smile to slip. He sighed heavily and rubbed his temples.

  “Do I even want to know?” their office manager asked.

  Dustin glanced up and caught Patrick grinning at him.

  Patrick Quinn was actually like his fourth cousin, twice removed, or something—he’d done the math once, but Dustin didn’t bother attempting to keep it straight. Patrick’s sister Cait was Dustin’s sister Katie’s best friend, and they’d all sort of grown up together. Patrick worked four days a week at the clinic, and the other three days at an auto-body shop.

  The guy was a wiz with electronics and engines; most of Dustin’s family went to his shop for car repairs, and he was the only one who could keep Joint Venture’s insurance claims straight.

  And Dustin supposed that excused him from having to hear about the patients’ gripes. He returned Patrick’s quick grin.

  “Nah. Ambrosia was just being interesting.”

  “So business as usual,” Patrick quipped, as he held out a folded piece of office stationary.

  Dustin took it. “What’s this?”

  “Travis has been as crazy-busy as you today. He left this for you about an hour ago, but I’ve been on hold with insurance on one line, and scheduling on the other, so…”

  When Patrick shrugged apologetically, Dustin waved him off and opened the paper. Scrawled in Travis’s hurried hand were some cryptic words.

  Stick around

  6:15 Marley

  Want your thoughts

  Dustin frowned and looked up from the paper to Patrick. “Any idea what this means?”

  The other man shrugged. “I know Caroline called and asked if there were any openings today to see one of her friends. I told her no, but Travis said he’d stay late for a consult.”

  Marley. So Caroline was bringing her best friend in to…what? To get Travis’s opinion about something professional apparently. And he wanted Dustin’s input.

  It definitely wasn’t the first time the two of them had consulted on a patient’s case together; that’s why they were partners. Their clients most often moved between the two of them, and they spent hours each week comparing notes on who needed what treatments.

  But this was Marley.

  He’d never worked with a person like her, a person with total loss of motor control. How intriguing. Travis was asking his professional input, and he owed it to his partner and friend to focus on that aspect of this meeting.

  And not the fact he was going to see Marley again.

  The woman who a) apparently was completely immune to his charms and b) flustered him so badly, he couldn’t even manage to flirt with her.

  Flirting is basically my middle name.

  Dustin “The Flirt” McIver. The playboy. The one who made no promises to women, to any woman, because he was never interested in any one lady for long.

  And here was a lady he couldn’t charm.

  Why did that bother him so much?

  Crumpling the paper in his palm, he nodded to Patrick. “Tell him I’ll be there.” He had no other plans that night, after all, and a chance to see Marley again was worth—

  No.

  No, a chance to examine a new and interesting professional case was worth some extra time in the office.

  At least, that’s what he told himself.

  “Yeah, I’ve heard really great things about the Phoenix suit, but honestly, I think you should go with the ReWalk just because you’ll have the support.”

  Marley was nodding along with Travis, pleased to hear he had an informed opinion.

  “That’s what I’m thinking. And I can afford it, so I might as well.”

  They were in Travis’s office and exam room, him standing with his arms crossed
and hip propped against one of his tables, while they chatted. Caroline had driven her, but was waiting out in the reception area, chatting with the nice young man who’d directed Marley back here.

  She wasn’t here so much for an exam or therapy, but just to get Travis’s thoughts on the exoskeleton. He was enthusiastic and had impressed her with his knowledge of the equipment, not to mention his willingness to shift his schedule around to work with her, in order for her to be ready by the wedding. Now, they were just chatting.

  “Caroline’s been telling me about some of your advocacy. I think that’s cool.”

  She shrugged, a little embarrassed by his compliment. “The world is made for people who walk upright. Fortunately, there are laws in place that say people like me have the right to access public spaces, but…”

  “But not everyone’s ADA-compliant,” he finished for her.

  “Not because they’re barneys—sorry, jerks—or whatever,” she hastened to assure him. “It’s just that plenty of people have never met someone in a wheelchair, much less considered making sure that person could access their shop or business.”

  Of course, there were plenty of instances of discrimination, intentional or not. And lawyers who would fight them. That was one of the reasons why Marley had enough money to live so independently, without a steady paying job.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re spreading the word. It’s something Dustin and I have always been passionate about.” He waved his hand around to encompass the office. “Obviously.”

  She grinned in response, and was just about to ask him another question, when the door opened. When Dustin poked his head inside and smiled, that one dimple appeared in his cheek, and Marley felt her chest become tight.

  Stall your tail, girl.

  He was just a man. Sure, a hottie, but a playboy. A flirt. He was only interested in equally hot women, ones he saw as perfect. The other day, at the water park, that sexy little smile on his lips as he watched the women in bikinis had proven that.

  Dr. Dustin McIver was here as a professional, Travis’s partner. That’s what mattered.

  So she smiled in return and gave a little wave. “Aloha, Dustin!”

  “Uh…aloha?” His smile dropped a little as he slid into the room. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”

  Travis shook his head. “Nah, we’re just chatting about exoskeletons. You have any thoughts?”

  Dustin shook his head and jammed his hands into the pockets of his scrubs. “Nothing beyond the surface. I haven’t kept up on the latest options.”

  Quickly, Travis filled his cousin in on the two models they were discussing, reminding him how the exoskeletons were made to be strapped to the patient’s legs, and help balance them.

  “The Phoenix is lightweight, so I’d have to use two canes for balance. Plus the controls are on the hand-holds.” Marley demonstrated the stance. “But it’s not relevant, because it won’t be available in the US for a while. So I’m going to order a ReWalk.”

  Dustin was nodding thoughtfully. “That’s the one I’ve seen before at conventions, and the one Travis has trained with. It’s pretty heavy-duty.”

  “It’s totally epic,” she said, with an enthusiastic nod. “The thing climbs stairs and jumps and does all sorts of things for the patient.”

  It was also heavy and expensive. The exoskeleton was exactly that; a robot which would be strapped around her dead limbs. It would walk, and her legs would just go along for the ride.

  Marley still wasn’t sure how she felt about it. She’d spent so long becoming comfortable in her body, and being proud of her body’s accomplishments, it felt as if it were some sort of betrayal to even be thinking about using an exoskeleton.

  But Caro was all about pushing her friends, and Marley would wear robotic legs, if it meant her bestie had the wedding she’d always dreamed of.

  Travis was talking again. “She’s a good candidate for the exoskeleton, since she has control of her lower torso and pelvis, right?”

  He directed the last question to Marley, who nodded in confirmation. “Totally. Came back slowly, starting about six months after the accident, but no change since a year after.”

  To demonstrate, she locked her hands on the arms of her wheelchair and pushed herself up off the seat. Her legs were dead-weight of course, but using her tight abdominal muscles, she wiggled her hips a little.

  And Dustin blushed.

  Actually blushed, then glanced away.

  What? Why? Why would a dude like him blush at a little pelvic wiggle? The question caused Marley to flush, which made her feel like a middle schooler, which was even more embarrassing, until they were both staring in different directions.

  Travis was grinning.

  Maybe he’d seen that, because Dustin cleared his throat and turned back to her, a determined, professional expression on his face. “When was your accident? What happened?”

  She knew the exact date and time. It had been the moment her life had changed forever after all. But she stuck to the generalizations. “The summer I was twenty, home from college. I’d gone up to Cocoa Beach— That’s the east coast surf capital, cha?”

  The two men shook their heads, and Dustin’s lips twitched a little wryly. “I’ve never even seen the ocean.”

  The casual comment startled her enough to cause her to forget what she’d been saying. She stared, her mouth slightly agape, at the handsome man across from her. “What? Never?”

  “Never ever,” he said, his grin growing. “But we have some epic lakes up here.”

  She snorted in dismissal, just as Travis cleared his throat. “So you were surfing?”

  “Yeah.” She shook her head. “I’d just dropped into a righteous tube and was ready to fade, when…” She shrugged. “I dunno. I guess I wiped and went into the soup.”

  Dustin glanced at his cousin. “I understood most of those words, but have no idea what she means. Do you?”

  Travis grinned. “Is speaking in tongues a normal side-effect of—”

  “Oh, shut up,” Marley snapped with a good-natured grin. “I was shacking a sick barrel—sorry, I was surfing—when yeah, I went under. Went through the washing machine.” When Dustin opened his mouth again, she hurried to clarify. “I got beat up underwater, okay?” she said slowly and succinctly.

  Travis began to chuckle, while Dustin blinked innocently. “Then what happened?”

  She shrugged. “Not exactly sure. There’s not a lot of rocks, so my dudes guessed it was my leashed longboard that dragged me around and slammed me into the—”

  These groms don’t know what you’re talking about.

  She sighed. “I hit the seafloor really hard. Or maybe a big rock we didn’t know about.” She shrugged again. “I woke up in the hospital after surgery and started rehab as soon as they’d let me.”

  It wasn’t the first time she’d sat in an exam room and told her story, not by a long shot. She’d done this dozens of times, every time she moved to a new place and found a new therapist. With the interest from her investments, she was lucky enough to be able to travel as much as she wanted, her suitcase wheeling along behind her chair as she went from hotel to hotel. As long as the town had a good pool, and a therapist in case she needed help, she could manage.

  So yeah, telling her story this time wasn’t anything different. These dudes were clinical professionals.

  With killer smiles. And dimples.

  Dustin was nodding. “And you said before it was a fracture in your T11? That explains why you still have so much mobility.”

  Yeah, Marley knew how lucky she was. She could’ve broken her neck. She could’ve been stuck under until she inhaled enough water to screw up her brain. Heck, she could’ve died.

  That’s what she’d reminded herself throughout those long years of rehabilitation.

  And eventually, it had worked.

  She shook her head, pushing away the maudlin thoughts. She was Marley Santana! She didn’t get maudlin!

  “I’m lucky
. These babies are useless, but at least they’re lightweight!” She leaned forward and lifted her left leg by the calf, making herself grin. “No dead-weight dragging me down!”

  It was easier to strap her legs together when she swam, but each race had different rules, and she followed whatever the organizers wanted. At least she didn’t have trouble floating!

  Travis was looking at her with wide eyes, and that’s when she realized she was sitting there holding her own leg out in front of her. But before she could get too embarrassed, Dustin darted forward and dropped to one knee in front of her.

  He wrapped his hand around her ankle, then cupped the calf of her left leg. She could tell from his movements, and the way he peered at the withered muscles he held, that he was being gentle, so gentle.

  But she couldn’t feel a thing.

  It’d been a while since she’d really cursed the lack of sensation in her legs, but now seemed as good a time as any. A gorgeous man was on his knees in front of her, holding her leg, touching her skin…and she couldn’t feel him.

  Shoot.

  She swallowed; half-embarrassed, half-yearning.

  “What’s this?” Dustin asked, his fingers skimming over the tattoo on the outside of her calf.

  It took two tries to get her voice to work. “Parrot Fish,” she finally croaked, then cleared her throat. “It…uh, it was my first tattoo, when I turned eighteen.”

  From his spot on the floor in front of her, Dustin turned that dimply smile her way once more, one brow raised. “Parrot fish again, huh?”

  She nodded. “My dog was named Parrot too. Big fan of parrot fish.”

  “Why? Because they poop sand?”

  He’d remembered. Her lips curled upwards as he gently placed her useless leg back on the footrest. His fingers lingered on her knee.

  “Because they eat a ton of indigestible coral, while trying to get some food—algae, mostly—and it doesn’t bother them. They just…” She made a shooing motion with her hands, the closest she was going to come to miming “poop” to these dudes. “It’s all part of their process. Take in the hard stuff, along with the good, and pass it right on through. I like that.”