Page 2 of Take Me Home for Christmas

They stood against a backdrop of light strings, tinsel, and glittery paper snowflakes dangling from the acoustic ceiling tiles above their heads. Brax was tall, big-shouldered, and all lean muscle, and actually very nice to look at. I didn’t realize I was staring until he glanced over at me, giving me the slightest nod, turning his dark gaze on me that always seemed to contain a twinkle of mischief—and sometimes more.

I waved and quickly looked away, trying to stop my heart from racing and the telltale flush that was already flaring its way into my cheeks. I sometimes sensed that mischief, thatheat, was directed at me, although he’d made it clear, since breakingthings off last summer, that there could only be friendship between us.

I tried not to fan myself, but the hormonal rush was, frankly, uncontrollable. But I was working on it.

As my mom discussed all the different ways she’d decorated the Christmas trees she’d talked my dad into putting up all around our house, I was distracted by what was going on in front of me on the ward. “Hey, Bianca,” Brax said in a teasing voice as she rolled by. “You’d better be practicing up for ping-pong tonight.” He circled his right arm around as if he were warming up his muscles for a pitch. “’Cause I’m gonna whup your butt.”

“Hey, Doctor Brax,” she said. “We’ll see about that.I’vebeen practicing too.” She wound her arm around in the same way. She was weak, of course, from the chemo she’d endured, but her enthusiasm—and her sass—made up for her lack of muscle.

Brax laughed. Laughter that caused a lot of females to melt into Jell-O at his feet. Not me, of course. I wasnota melter. But he did make my knees wobble. And a couple of other reactions that I would never admit out loud.

Bonded by the life-and-death nature of our job, Brax and I quickly fell into a friendship that was more than simply collegial, but less revealing than what we’d had before. We managed to keep the other stuff out of it. Mostly.

“So how’s your guy?” my mom asked.

Brax wasnotmy guy. But my mom actually thought he was. “He plays ping-pong with the teens who’ve been on the ward for a while.” I watched Brax grab a small beanbag elf off the counter and toss it playfully at Bianca. It landed in her lap, making her chuckle. “They kind of have a pool going. They play for M&M’s.”

“Oh, Mia,” my mom gushed. “He sounds wonderful.”

A hefty dose of guilt flooded through me as I failed, as I had repeatedly through these past months, to tell my mom the truth about our breakup. Bianca cranked up her arm again and tossedthe elf in Brax’s direction. He made a giant show of catching it, hurtling himself in the air, making faces, and doing a football-esque victory dance when he caught it, almost running into Valerie Beckett, our charge nurse, who’d recently celebrated her thirty-fifth year in the profession.

“Sorry, Val.” Brax displayed his boyish grin, which didnotmake my heart flutter. “We were just practicing for the big competition tonight.”

“In thenurses’ station, Dr. Hughes?” Her frown wasn’t really even a frown. More like ahe’s-so-adorable-and-I-wish-I-were-thirty-years-youngerkind of look.

Geesh. Hewasadorable.

Brax gave a casual shrug. “To make up for it, you can join us tonight for the tournament, okay? If you’re as good at ping-pong as you are at managing this ward, we should be very afraid.”

Val, completely charmed, shook her head. “Mmmhmm. Maybe they should keep you residents busier if you’ve got time for ping-pong tournaments.” But she turned away smiling.

Suddenly, the red-and-green felt blur flew through the air, directly toward me.

In a not-very-pretty but nevertheless practical move, I caught it while somehow managing to mute and not break my phone. “You suck,” I said to Brax.

Bianca laughed.

Brax lifted a well-defined brow in surprise. His gaze, full of challenge, settled upon me in a way that gave me goose bumps.

To make things worse, he walked up and leaned over the counter, staring down at me with amused, warm brown eyes. “Thought you had better reflexes, Dr. D’Angelo.”

“You’re all bluster,” I shot back. “I have great reflexes. A true teammate communicates.” And then I tossed it right back. He caught it quickly and smoothly, with one show-offy hand. If only I could summon the nerve to speak with him that way—in a bold,sassy tone—about what really mattered. But Brax only allowed people in so far.

My twin, Grace, had been sassy. I, on the other hand, tended to think of smart comebacks approximately five hours after a conversation. So much for genetics.

His full mouth turned up ever so slightly. “And here I thought we had something better than words.”

“And what would that be?” I couldn’t wait to hear this.

“Intuition. Reflexes.” He tossed the poor elf back and forth between his hands. “Being in tune with each other’s moves.”

Okay, it wasdefinitelygetting hot in here. I dropped my voice and frowned. “Are we talking about sex or ping-pong here?” Had I just said that, one finger press away from my mother actually hearing it?

I’d sworn to never bring that up again. But when did my mouth ever listen to my brain? Plus, he was being flirty. But why? We’d broken up months ago.

“Touché.” He leaned on his elbows, his face so close that I could see the masculine grain of his late afternoon stubble. “I was thinking more about how we handled that case in the ER last week.”

I called baloney—silently, of course. Because his eyes told me differently. They often did. But he never acted on the impulses I saw there.

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