Sandra Steffen - Gift Wrapped Dad

“I only want you.”

It required incredible effort not to look away from the determination and the longing in his eyes. Being wanted by Will Sutherland was a heady sensation. It always had been. Eight years ago he would have accented a statement like that with a wink or a raised eyebrow. Today, he stared directly into her eyes, waiting for her answer.

The changes in him were as intriguing as the things that were the same. Krista didn’t want to be intrigued by him. Intrigue had a way of leading to heartache. That thought set off a warning in her mind. She’d loved him a long time ago. She didn’t want to fall in love with him again, but was already feeling the pull of his attraction.

“There are thousands of physical therapists, Will. Why did you come to me?”

Will knew what she was asking. She wanted to know why he’d come to her now, after all these years. How could he put into words how he’d felt during that split second when he’d known with frightening clarity that an out-of-control truck was going to crash into his car? How could he describe the boom of impact or the sound of breaking glass and bending steel, or what it felt like to be rushed to a hospital, unable to feel his legs? How could he describe the fear and the dread and the despair of these past three months?

But Krista wanted to know. If she was going to help him, she deserved to know.

“I was having a shouting match with my former physical therapist when Dr. Richardson, one of the doctors at the rehab center in New York, stepped into the room to intervene. I asked him if he could recommend another therapist, and he told me you were one of the best.”

She raised her eyebrows a little and shrugged offhandedly as she said, “Adam Richardson consulted on a case I had a few years ago. I’m a little surprised he remembered me.”

Will wasn’t surprised. He’d never forgotten her. Thoughts of her had filtered into his mind at the oddest times these past eight years, but never as often as they had these past three months. He’d done a lot of thinking while he was in the hospital in New York. About his life. About baseball. About the woman he’d left behind. He knew he’d hurt her, and he knew he had no right to ask her to help him now. Yet here he was, trying to think of some way to convince her to do just that.

“I came to you because I want to walk again, and because you’re the only person I know who really believed I could reach for the stars. I’m reaching for them again.”

Krista heard the earnestness and honesty in Will’s voice. He’d always called his dream of playing pro baseball reaching for the stars. Baseball was the reason he left her before. It was the reason he’d leave again. She became a physical therapist because she wanted to help people, and she knew that hadn’t changed. Reaching a decision wasn’t difficult, but she was afraid that protecting her heart from Will’s charm a second time was going to be the most difficult thing she’d ever done.

Raising her chin another notch, she said, “You’ll have to clear it with the hospital first, get doctor and insurance authorization, but if they say it’s possible, I’ll help you.”

“I’ve already signed on the dotted line.”

His words sent an old pain quaking through her. He’d been so sure she’d do what he wanted that he’d already signed his forms? She wondered what the people in the office thought about that. It reminded her of the way she’d felt in high school when girls had whispered about her behind their hands and boys had bragged and leered.

It required an iron will to keep from stepping back, to keep from reverting to the way she used to be, to keep from giving in to old hurts. “There’s one thing you should know, Will. I’m not a sure thing anymore.”

Will clamped his mouth shut and squared his shoulders. She’d removed her hands from her hips and wrapped them around her waist as she’d spoken. Her voice hadn’t faltered, but her stance was one of self-defense if he’d ever seen one. There had always been a sensitivity deep in the center of Krista’s heart, a vulnerability and softness that was damned near impossible not to react to. She’d said sure thing as if they were dirty words, like tramp or easy. She’d never been any of those things. Lusty and vibrant and the hottest thing either side of the Rockies, but not easy. Memories of the way she’d responded to him, of her earthy sexuality and sumptuous body played through his mind. Hell and damnation, he was getting worked up just thinking about the way they’d been together. Looking back now, he wondered how he’d ever managed to leave her behind all those years ago.

Gazing at her this afternoon, he decided that his memories hadn’t really done her justice. She’d always been great-looking, but today she was beautiful. She had dark lashes and dark eyebrows, but her eyes were the darkest of all. He watched those eyes, searching for hidden meaning. What he found in her gaze was warmth, and a hint of concern. It was that concern that brought him back to his senses.

He hadn’t seen her in eight years. A lot had happened since college. She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, and her last name was still the same. But in this day and age, she could still be married. Even if she wasn’t, a woman like her was bound to be involved with someone. Will Sutherland might have been a cad now and then, but no matter what, he’d always had scruples. Besides, from now on he’d be seeing her every day. He’d have time to learn about her personal life later. Right now, he had to concentrate on getting out of these cursed leg braces.

“Would you be willing to start tomorrow?” he asked.

She nodded, and Will felt his skin tighten over his knuckles as he gripped his crutches. She’d agreed to work with him. The knowledge settled inside him like hope.

After saying goodbye, he pulled himself around, making his way toward the elevator at the end of the hall, certain it wasn’t his imagination that made the trek seem shorter than it had when he’d come. Adrenaline pumped through his body as he punched the elevator button. It was a lot like the surge of adrenaline he used to feel before every game. For the first time in the three months since his accident, Will thought he had a chance to make it back—on his feet, and on with his life.

* * *

Krista slipped her dripping raincoat from her shoulders and hurried into the lounge. “Coffee,” she called. “I need coffee.”

All three of the other people in the room stopped whispering and turned around.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “Did one of you win the lottery?”

“We’re not the lucky ones!” Heather Jones, a tall, willowy redhead declared. “You are. Have you seen who your ten o’clock patient is?”

Krista eyed her three co-workers who were blocking her view of the big schedule board on the wall. Reaching for the coffee, she said, “Since I just walked in and I don’t have X-ray vision, I have to say no, I haven’t seen who my ten o’clock patient is.” But she had a pretty good idea.

“Billy the Kid,” Brody Calhoun, the only man in the room, cut in.

Krista took her first sip of strong coffee, eyeing her friends over the rim of her cup. “I think you mean Will Sutherland,” she said quietly.

“Call him what you want,” Heather sputtered. “The fact is the most eligible bachelor within a hundred miles is going to be yours for two hours every day.”

Krista sucked in a breath of air, trying to cool her tongue, which she’d burned on her coffee the instant Heather had said that Will was going to be hers for two hours every day. Her tongue cooled. Her thoughts didn’t.

“I thought I was the most eligible bachelor for miles around,” Brody grumbled.