Page 52 of Hot to Trot

Destiny sank against the bed with a near sob and a wince. "Oh, thank God. I-I-”

Charlene grabbed her hand. "I told you, Des. She's okay."

Destiny cried harder and Scarlet stroked the girl's bangs from her eyes. "No tears now, Destiny. This is very good news."

The girl nodded and clung hard to her friend's hand.

Scarlet met his gaze, her uncertainty obvious.

Her look spoke volumes.Do something.

He approached the other side of the bed where the two young girls held hands and awkwardly patted Destiny's uninjured shoulder. "Ms. Rose is right. This is good news."

The girl calmed at his touch. He didn't know why. He was damned uncomfortable. He'd had no experience with teenage girls. They were like holding a loaded weapon with a hair trigger. Likely to go off at any moment.

Scarlet didn't look much more capable than he. They were both fish out of water, hoping for someone to save them. At least Scarlet had the benefit of being female.

His gaze met Scarlet’s, and for a moment the absolute lunacy of the situation they found themselves in struck him. He could see the same revelation in her eyes. A sort of awareness of being ill at ease with two girls who were virtual strangers and a sort of determination to put their own discomfort aside for those two frightened children.

He didn't know how he knew her thoughts. He merely did.

"Destiny!"

The shriek came from the doorway. "Gran!"

Scarlet and Adam had been saved by Gran, the rotund woman with platinum highlights and sunglasses the size of small saucers. In short order, introductions were made, thanks given, and goodbyes said.

He and Scarlet slipped out of the bay and left the emergency room. He took her elbow as they headed down the main hall. "I'll walk you to your car."

She tugged her arm free. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Why?"

"Because I’m feeling highly emotional right now, and you're looking pretty damn good in my eyes. I might not keep my promise. I might toss you into my convertible, drive to the nearest motel, and teach you not to go around playing the hero. It's a real turn-on for cheap girls like me."

The hurt in her voice gave him pause. Damn.

He'd wounded her today when he told her she wasn't the right kind of girl. Why had he said anything to her about what he'd been looking for in a woman? Why had he allowed an abstract ideal to overshadow the spectacular real person right in front of his eyes?

The florescent lighting was harsh and he knew he looked wrinkled and weary, his uniform and boots smudged with dirt. Scarlet didn't look much better. Her dark red hair hung scraggly around a face that looked paler than normal. Her T-shirt waswrinkled and her toenail polish was chipped. And he'd never seen a woman look more desirable.

"Maybe I don't want you to keep your promise."

"Yes, you do."

He stared at her. Didn't she understand? Couldn't she feel how much he wanted her? Couldn't she see how the shallow version of her he'd built in his mind, the one he'd been clinging to, had crumbled, leaving a woman who was so lovable it scared him?

She brushed her bangs from her eyes. "This afternoon you were quite clear about the type of woman you want."

He didn't respond.

She gave him a slow, sad smile. “And I'm not that woman."

She walked away.

He didn't follow. Why should he? He'd hurt her and misjudged her... and she was right. No matter how much he wished she was the right girl for him, she wasn't a realistic candidate for a serious relationship. She wasn't sticking around Oak Stand to make him pork chops, sit on a pew at Oak Stand Methodist with him, or pick out trim colors for his shutters.

There was no future with Scarlet Rose.

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