Mac's Bedside Manner Part 5

She didn't know why she was wasting her time talking to him. "Look, my baby's sick, my car's sick and I think I'm getting sick. I don't need this."

Leaning over as far as he could, Mac twisted the latch on the pa.s.senger door and pushed it open. "No, you don't. Get in."

She looked back at her offending vehicle. It had been giving her trouble in one way or another since the day she'd bought it, but she wasn't in a position to buy a new one right now. "I can't just leave my car."

"n.o.body's telling you to." He looked at her meaningfully. "You do have enough sense to get in out of the rain, don't you?"

More than anything, she wanted to give this hotshot surgeon a piece of her mind. But since discretion was the better part of valor, she held her tongue. If she was being fair, Jolene figured she had that one coming. But only that one. "Yes."

Mac looked at her expectantly. She wasn't moving. "Well?"

Blowing out a breath, Jolene opened the door farther and got in. And began dripping all over her side of the vehicle.

"Boy, you are wet, aren't you?" Pressing the control panel on his armrest, Mac rolled up the window on her side quickly. He reached behind him and got the towel he'd forgotten to take out of the back seat the last time he'd been to the gym. He offered it to her. "It's really coming down, isn't it?"

Jolene used the towel to rub the water from her hair and then her face. Stopping abruptly, she sniffed the towel and gave him a curious look.

"I used it at the gym." He saw her drop the towel as if it was contaminated. "Don't worry, I just had it draped around my neck when I finished my workout. This doesn't mean our sweat glands are bonding or anything."

Still, she folded the towel, finished, then sighed. "I think I shrank an inch just standing there."

Belated, he turned off the engine. The windows were beginning to fog up, creating an impression that they were sealed off from the rest of the world. He forced his mind back on the topic at hand before he let it drift with that image.

"Do you know what's wrong with your car?"

Yes, she knew what was wrong with it. It was a lemon. It happened even with the most reliable of makes. Just her luck.

"Same thing that's been wrong with it the last three times. The distributor cap malfunctioned."

She didn't look like a woman who would know a distributor cap from a baseball cap. The woman was one surprise after another.

Mac looked at her with renewed respect. "I'm impressed, Nurse DeLuca. All I know how to do is jump-start." The startled, wary look that came into her eyes had him biting his tongue not to laugh. He figured that wouldn't go over very well right now. "A car," he added. "Jump-start a car."

The smile on his lips was nothing short of sensual, she thought, and it was telegraphing strange electrical impulses all through her. G.o.d, she really was coming down with Amanda's fever, wasn't she? Jolene squelched the urge to feel her forehead.

"Since you probably don't carry a spare distributor cap in your purse," he began jokingly, although if she'd pulled one out, at this point he wouldn't have been all that surprised, "have you called a tow truck?"

Jolene shook her head. Several drops went flying, one hitting him in the eye. "My battery's dead."

Taking out a handkerchief, Mac dabbed his eye. He gave her the once-over with his good one and commented, "Not from where I'm sitting."

Jolene realized she was clenching her teeth. "My cell phone battery. I forgot to charge it last night." She'd started to, but then Amanda had started crying again and she'd left the charger connected to the cell phone, but unplugged.

"Ah." Nodding his head, he unbuckled his seat belt and leaned forward, digging into his back pocket. He noticed that Jolene was watching his every move as if she expected him to either jump on her bones, or turn into a vampire-possibly both. "Relax, there's no need to be so tense. I'm just getting my cell phone out."

"I am not tense," she informed him indignantly, even though it was a lie.

The look he gave her fairly shouted, "Yeah, right."

"I've seen ironing boards that were more relaxed," Mac quipped, handing her the cell phone. "Maybe n.o.body told you yet, but I'm not the enemy, Nurse DeLuca. I'm one of the good guys."

She flipped open his phone. The latest model, it had all the bells and whistles. She wasn't surprised. The man probably used the Internet to check up on his stock portfolio, the way Matt used to. "I like deciding those kind of things for myself."

He had no idea why he was as attracted to her as he was. Looks had never been everything in his book. He needed someone to talk to beneath the trappings, even though he had no desire for a permanent relationship with anyone. This thing he felt had to be something like being fascinated with a train wreck-you just couldn't believe it was happening right before your eyes.

"I could have driven right by you," Mac pointed out.

She'd already come up with a theory about that. "Do you have a date tonight?"

"No." Tonight he just wanted to have an early dinner, answer a few letters, call his nephew to wish him luck on his big test tomorrow and call it a night.

The smile she gave him was smug and nothing short of triumphant. "That explains why you stopped."

She had a nice smile, even if it was a little smug for his tastes, he thought. It irked him that she was so convinced he was the anti-Christ.

He mustered an innocent look. "Why, are you volunteering to be my date?"

"No!" How the h.e.l.l had he come to that conclusion?

Mac pinned her with a look that told her he was getting tired of her att.i.tude. "Then other than your paranoia, what are we talking about?"

Properly chastised, at a loss for an answer, Jolene said nothing.

Instead she punched out the numbers on the keypad of the towing service her mechanic favored. She held her breath as the phone on the other end rang several times, praying that all the trucks weren't out on calls. Finally someone came on the line. She kept her eyes averted from Mac as she gave the particulars to the man who answered. The man turned out to be one of the drivers who'd come out to tow her before. He was properly sympathetic and friendly.

Finished, she raised her eyes to Mac and saw that he was looking at her. "What?"

"Nothing, just surprised that you can sound friendly when you're talking to a man-unless Pete's a girl."

"Pete's six-three, has a permanent five-o'clock shadow and weighs over three hundred pounds. He's a man all right. And for your information, I don't male-bash-I doctor-bash. There's a difference." She looked at the phone in her hand. "Can I make another call?"

He gestured to the phone in her hand. "Be my guest. I'm not charging by the call."

She couldn't help the suspicion that entered her eyes. It was a leading line. "What do you charge by?"

"I'm not charging at all," he told her. "I'm returning a favor." When she looked at him quizzically, he added, "You drove me to my car, remember?"

Jolene responded with a half shrug, unconvinced that he wasn't going to extract payment somewhere along the line-or think he could. With dread, she started to dial her mother. She loved her mother but the woman's main hobby was playing 20 Questions.

"You know, I've been watching you," Mac said.

Okay, here it came. Bracing herself, she raised her eyes to his face, "Oh?"

"And you have the makings of a pretty good nurse-"

"The 'makings' of a 'pretty good' nurse?" she echoed. "I'll have you know I love my job and I'm a d.a.m.n good nurse."

"Okay," he allowed easily, feeling he had absolutely nothing to lose and possibly something to gain, "you're a d.a.m.n good nurse. So just when did you become a lousy human being?"

Jolene slapped the phone cover shut. He had a h.e.l.l of a nerve asking her such a question. She had no idea why she even bothered to acknowledge it. Or answer it. The man had no business in her private life.

But the words came before she could think to stop them. "When I saw my husband, the doctor, who I put through school at no small expense to me, performing a tonsillectomy on his receptionist without benefit of surgical tools. That's when."

It was an old scenario. Mac's father had cheated on his mother with fair regularity. Which was why Mac had found the term "sanct.i.ty of marriage" laughable. The way you honored the contract of marriage was by not entering into it.

In Jolene's case, she'd probably driven her husband away with that shrewish tongue of hers. "So your husband cheated on you with the receptionist-"

If only. Had there been one transgression, she would have forgiven Matt. Even two. She'd been that in love with him. But there hadn't been just one or two, there had been myriad incidents once she took the blinders off and took a hard look at the evidence. Matt's idea of marriage was to have someone at home to take care of things while he played doctor with every available female body in town.

"And the baby-sitter and the bookstore clerk and our insurance agent-" She stopped before she really got going. "Pretty nearly half the female population under sixty in San Francisco sums it up rather neatly."

There was hurt in her eyes and he didn't know how to deal with it. He knew how to respond to a child's pain, but a woman's was another matter. So he used humor because it seemed like the best way to cover them both. "Busy man. When did he have time to practice?"

She shot him an annoyed look. "It wasn't funny."

"No," he agreed quietly, "I don't imagine it was. But just because your husband was a lowlife, that doesn't mean that you should try to castrate every man you meet."

Her eyes met his. She ignored the slight unsettled feeling that rose up. "Not every man, just the doctors," she reminded him.

So she'd said earlier. "Nice to know you're discerning." His eyes indicated the cell phone she still held in her hand. "You said something about making another call."

"Right." Taking a deep breath, she called her mother's number. The phone was picked up on the second ring. "Hi, Mom, it's me. I'm going to be a little late." She paused, listening. "All right, a lot late," she corrected after her mother had done the same. "But it can't be helped. My car died." She sighed, struggling for her patience. "Yes, again. No, no, don't cancel your date on my account. I'll be there, I promise. I'm getting a ride. From one of the doctors," she replied in response to the question that her mother immediately asked her. "Yes, Mother, the enemy. You know, sarcasm doesn't become you." Jolene deliberately avoided looking in Mac's direction. But even so, she could feel the grin that was on his face. "I'll be there as soon as I can." After flipping the cell phone closed, she handed it back to Mac.

His fingers brushed against hers as he took it. "Your mother's got a date?"

She dropped her hand into her lap, feeling as if there was a current still dancing through her arm. She wondered if he was wearing something with metal on it and was conducting electricity without her knowing it. She could have sworn she saw lightning flashing a second ago.

"Yes."

With a laugh, he nodded his approval. "Nice to know someone in your family has a social life."

Her eyes narrowed into accusing slits. "My social life isn't any business of yours."

Yet, he thought. "Looks like it isn't any business of yours, either."

That did it. She'd rather put up with the monsoon than the likes of him. Turning away from MacKenzie, she opened the pa.s.senger door.

Reacting quickly, Mac caught her arm, pulling her back. "What are you doing?"

Her tone reverted to its former icy state. "Getting out to wait by my car for the tow truck."

She had to be crazy. And he had to be the same for arguing with her. "In case you haven't noticed, it's raining harder than ever."

She tugged hard, but there was no getting free of his grip unless he wanted her to be. She glared at him. "I noticed."

His hold loosened slightly, but not enough for her to be able to pull free. "Why don't we call a truce? You stop trying to slice me up with that tongue of yours and I'll behave."

She sincerely doubted that he even knew the meaning of the word, but given the circ.u.mstances, she had no choice. Reluctantly she slipped her free hand into the one he was offering. And prayed that the tow truck driver hadn't been exaggerating when he'd promised that he would be "right there."

"Truce," she muttered.

And they were off to a flying start, Mac thought as he echoed, "Truce."

Chapter Five.

J olene gave serious thought to calling a cab once the tow truck had arrived to take away her wounded car. But she was already running late and the last thing Jolene wanted was for her mother to have to change her plans because of her.

So after she signed the necessary paper for the tow truck driver, she allowed Mac to drive her to her mother's, hating the fact that she was now solidly in his debt.

"Not very talkative, are you?" Mac observed as they got back on the road.

In response, Jolene leaned forward in her seat and turned on the radio. She wanted to fill the air with something other than awkward silence, or worse, awkward conversation.

An amused smile played on Mac's lips. He kept his eyes on the road as she hunted through the stations for one that was acceptable to her.

"Music lover?"

"Something like that." She actually did love music. It helped ease the tension of uncomfortable moments. And right now, this had the makings of a very long uncomfortable moment.

"I like all kinds of music," he told her. She'd already gone through several oldies' stations, as well as two country western ones without pausing for more than a couple of seconds. "As long as it's not opera."

Irritation had her asking, "What do you have against opera?"

Had he struck a sensitive note? Was she an opera buff? Somehow, he thought not. Mac had a sneaking suspicion that if he said the sky was pitch-black right now, which it was, she would say it was light.

He shrugged absently. "Nothing, just don't care to have people singing at the top of their lungs at me, that's all."

They had that in common, though she wasn't about to tell him. Jolene came to a familiar station. Soft, bluesy music filled the car, elbowing its way into the tension. "How do you feel about jazz?"

He smiled as he recognized the piece. "Jazz is good." He slanted a look in her direction for half a beat, wondering if she'd change the station just to be obstinate. "I like jazz."

She left the station set where it was.

So much for being able to second-guess her, he mused. Easing the car onto the freeway, he worked his way past the knot of cars in the first three lanes and into the carpool lane. Unlike the others, it was relatively uncluttered.

In comparison to the rest of the vehicles in the other lanes, they fairly flew, their progress marked in part by an extra long version of "Cold Duck." It made the time pa.s.s if not nicely, at least quickly.

"Make a left right at the next light," Jolene instructed as they got off the freeway.

"She speaks," Mac quipped. "I was beginning to think you'd gone mute."