Dangerous Therapy: O'Connor Brothers (Volume 1) Page 9

  She popped her tea in the microwave and gazed out through the kitchen window. The sky was clear, and she could see the ocean in the distance. June wasn’t always warm, but the large wicker chair on the back deck beckoned her. Hot tea and a bedroom blanket in hand, she opened the patio doors and headed outside to the patio.

  John’s garden wasn’t large, but it was beautifully landscaped. The deck went the entire length of the house. Another set of patio doors were on the other side leading into John’s kitchen. Scattered around the garden were solar lights giving the garden a soft glow. Two large maple trees stood in opposite corners next to the fence, and between them she could see the waves crashing on the beach. The view was breathtaking. She really liked it out here. Once John was finished with therapy, she could discuss renting the apartment. Of course, she didn’t know how long his recovery would take and didn’t know him well enough to ask.

  Was he sleeping? He refused to take the medication. Some people didn’t like the groggy feeling from painkillers. Luckily, she never had to take anything stronger than Advil. John was stubborn. His family were expecting miracles, but unless John worked hard, his recovery wasn’t going to work.

  It was so relaxing just to lay her head back against the chair, she closed her eyes. A sudden shiver made the hair on her neck stand up, and her eyes snapped open. It was as if someone was watching her, but nobody was there. Someone clearing their throat brought her attention to the next garden. A woman was pulling a hose from the rack attached to the house next door.

  “I’m sorry. Did I scare you?” The woman approached the fence.

  “A little. I didn’t expect to see anyone out here this late.” She seemed pleasant enough.

  “I always water my flowers at night. It helps keep the moisture in longer.” Glancing at the beautiful garden, it was obvious whatever she was doing was working. “I’m Sandy Churchill.”

  “Stephanie Kelly.” She ambled to the fence and shook Sandy’s hand.

  “Are you John’s girlfriend?” Her inquiry made Stephanie uncomfortable. Of course, she wasn’t John’s girlfriend, but everything in her screamed that she wanted to be.

  “No, I’m his Physical Therapist and Personal Care Assistant.” She couldn’t look Sandy in the eye. Wanting to be more to John had to be written all over her face.

  “How’s he doing?” Thank heavens Sandy just turned to finish pulling out her hose and proceeded to water her flowers.

  “I’m not really sure how to answer that because it’s obvious he’s frustrated, but I think he’s convinced himself he’s not going to be back to his old self.” Should she really be telling John’s neighbor any of this? Word got around fast in small communities.

  “It’s got to be hard on him.” Sandy continued to spray her beautiful flower garden. “He’s always been very active.”

  Obviously Sandy knew John a lot better than Stephanie thought. Maybe this could be a way to get insight on John from someone besides his family. The only information Sandy knew wasn’t really helpful. John bought the house about six years ago, and his last relationship didn’t end well. Sandy didn’t go into details.

  The idea of John having a girlfriend made her stomach churn. The thoughts of another woman touching him or kissing him made that ugly green eyed monster appear on her shoulder. She shouldn’t be jealous. He wasn’t her boyfriend.

  It was interesting to find out that Sandy worked with computers, but when Stephanie asked more about it, Sandy quickly changed the subject. It was weird. The last topic was relationships. Sandy was single and loving it, according to her. Stephanie didn’t really want to talk about Brad, but for some reason she ended up going into detail about her doomed relationship. Sandy was that type of person. Funny and easy to talk to. Stephanie really liked her.

  “I hope John gets better soon.” Sandy rolled up the hose and put it on the hook attached to the fence. “I’ve missed our little chats out here.”

  “If I can help it he’ll be back on his feet in no time,” Stephanie said. “I can fill in for him until then.”

  “That’s great. I love living in Hopedale, but sometimes it gets a little boring in the evening.” Sandy chuckled.

  “I bet, but it’s so much better than living in the city.” Stephanie glanced at her watch. Damn, it was after midnight. She really needed to get some sleep. She had a feeling tomorrow was going to be a long day.

  A quick good night to Sandy and Stephanie proceeded inside. She flopped down on the bed and sighed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day. The reports on John and his family’s words were floating through her head. He was fighting all the therapists in the hospital, and she witnessed some of his anger today. Bringing out her inner bitch may be required if he was going to fight her as well. She didn’t like the inner bitch, but it was necessary sometimes. If John was going to play that game, she knew exactly how to handle it.

  “I’m a professional. I can do this.” Stephanie crawled into bed and pulled the blankets over her. “I’m a professional. I can do this.” She closed her eyes and repeated the mantra until she drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 11

  John jolted upright in the bed. Nightmares of the accident continued to haunt his sleep.

  Ugh.

  His body was still at war with his will. Of course, that wasn’t anything new. Over the last couple of months, it was the same every morning. It had become the new norm.

  The clock on his nightstand read six fifteen. Too early to disturb anyone. Like the beautiful blonde only a button push away. Nope! It was time to do some things on his own. It was embarrassing enough last night. His morning wood would be just as humiliating. Plus, it would be some form of independence.

  John could hold his weight on his injured leg, but was warned it was weak. Like he didn’t know that. Since the accident people thought he was a complete idiot. Well, the one thing he could do was sit up. Seemed easy enough to say, but the actual attempt made him clench his teeth. That wasn’t too bad. A couple of deep breaths. Now sliding to the edge of the bed. The muscles in his back tensed. Fuck. Deep breaths and relax.

  It was a good thing his room wasn’t huge. At least he could get himself dressed without walking too much. Stephanie said they were starting his road to recovery today. Comfortable clothes were probably the best bet. Track pants and a T-shirt was the outfit of the day.

  The struggle to pull on his clothes was pissing him off. His neck and back were making it very difficult to get dressed. Determination, and let’s face it pure O’Connor stubbornness allowed him to clothe himself. The pain was there, but he wasn’t letting it slow him down anymore.

  The wheelchair on the other side of the bed was mocking him. How was he going to get better when he couldn’t even walk? That chair was the first thing that needed to go. Being pushed around made him feel like a ninety-year-old man, and it didn’t do much for his pride either. Yes, he had an ego. There was a cane the hospital gave him, but he didn’t have enough strength to use that alone. Using the cane was a little better than the chair. It would make it easier to get around the house. A quick scan of his room said the cane plan was out of the question.

  Push the wheels, curse, and breathe. Push the wheels, curse, and breathe. With this pattern, he was in the kitchen, and at the moment he was suffering for the pattern. He probably did more damage, but to hell with it. He was getting his independence back if it killed him.

  The kitchen was the best part of his house. Of course, he loved the whole house but the kitchen had a million-dollar view of the ocean. The house wasn’t big but big enough for a bachelor with no future plans of settling down. When the house went on the market, John jumped at it. Especially, since it was in the same town he grew up in, and close enough to the city that it only took fifteen minutes to get to work.

  The only thing it needed at the time he bought it was a few coats of paint. The memory of the three weekends his brothers helped him paint made him smile. The only extra cost was hiring a contractor to close off one si
de of the house for a rental apartment, but thanks to his brother Keith he got a good price on that.

  The day his mother came to see his house was amusing. She didn’t like his home gym or the fact he closed off some of the house for the apartment.

  “Not much room for children here.” She sighed. John ignored the comment.

  “I like it because he lives closer to the family.” Nanny Betty had interjected and made his mother smile. Thank God for Nan.

  Coffee. John made his way to the counter and his coffee maker. Hospital coffee sucked. What a stupid idea it was to store the coffee in the top cupboard. This was his chance to do for himself. He put the brake on the chair and pushed himself up on his feet. His balance was good, but lifting his arm was another story. Fucking shit. This was insane. He couldn’t even make a pot of coffee for himself.

  “Whoa there, Mister.” John was startled by the voice coming from behind him. “What are you doing?” It was almost comical the way she stood in the doorway, hands on her hips and tapping her foot.

  “Trying to make coffee,” John answered as he turned back to the cupboard.

  “And straining your shoulder.” John eased back in the chair. The scent of vanilla filled his senses as she walked up beside him. Just like a soldier his dick started to salute. “You were supposed to page me when you woke up.”

  “I was only getting coffee, not building a house.” John snapped and pushed away from her. Then felt like an asshole for snapping.

  “It might not seem like much but if you fell, you could do more damage.” Stephanie reached up for the coffee in the cupboard. Oh hell. John groaned inwardly. Her shirt pulled up exposing the smooth skin of her back, and her ass clenched as she stood on her toes to reach the coffee. Sir brainless head was coming to a full salute. Wearing track pants was a really bad idea.

  “Why are you up so early?” Distraction technique.

  “It was really hot in my room.” She started the coffee pot.

  It would have been really hot if I was in there.

  “Damn it!” John growled.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” Sure he was great. His body was falling apart, but his dick was perfectly fine. Thinking about something else, anything else was close to impossible. Black leggings clung to her round firm ass. A pink tank top clung to her breasts and dipped enough to see a healthy amount of cleavage. Were they as firm as they looked? Dead puppies. That thought should help his libido.

  “So how long do you think it’ll take to lose this chair?” John tried desperately to keep his eyes above her neck when she put a cup in front of him. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She really was stunning. He couldn’t help it, but his eyes moved to her lips and low and behold. Up he comes again. Something else John, think about something else.

  “Once you get the strength back, but don’t rush it.” Stephanie sat across from him. “I know it’s frustrating, but this isn’t going to happen overnight, John.” In the hospital, he didn’t want to do anything and now he wanted to get better overnight. “You’d probably be out of it if you had done the therapy in the hospital.” Well, he didn’t expect an I-told-you-so, from her.

  “I know. I know. I was an ass, but I really want to get rid of this thing.” John sighed. “I need to get rid of it.”

  “Well, if that’s your goal, that’s where we’ll start.” Her beautiful smile had his heart jumping in his chest. “So let’s get your breakfast, and then we’ll go over everything.”

  “I’m not really hungry.” John sighed.

  “I really don’t care if you’re hungry.” Hands on the hips again. Damn if that wasn’t sexy as fuck. “You will eat breakfast because you need the nutrition and the energy.” She’s a demanding little thing. “Plus this may be the first day, but you’re going to get a really hard workout.”

  John choked on his coffee. Talking about things getting hard. Criminal codes, criminal codes.

  Breakfast was great. Scrambled eggs, turkey bacon and whole grain toast. Oh and the constant twitching in his groin every time she put food in her mouth. Closing his eyes to try and picture anything else was not working at all. When he opened them she was staring at him.

  “Are you in any pain, John?” How was he supposed to answer that question?

  “No!” No pain but a hell of a lot of discomfort.

  “Are you sure? You seem really tense.”

  Oh for the love of God. Of course, he was tense. She was going to think he was a complete horn dog.

  “I’m fine, really.” He was such an ass. She was only here to help him, not to be the lead in his over active sexual fantasies. “I’m ready to get the ball rolling.”

  She pushed him into his home gym. Some of his regular equipment was moved to the side. An exercise ball and some small free weights were new. He assumed it was part of his recovery. To his left a large white table with a hole in the top.

  “It’s a massage table,” Stephanie said as if she was reading his thoughts. “You’ll need massage therapy at least three times a week, for the first little while.” This was starting to seem more like torture than therapy.

  “What’s that?” When he turned around she was plugging in an IPod docking station and holding an IPod in her hand.

  “An IPod.” So she was a bit of a smart ass.

  “I can see that.” John chuckled.

  “It’s motivational music.” She smiled.

  “Huh?”

  “Music to help motivate you.” And there was that smart mouth again. With that, she pointed to the mats on the floor. Getting to the floor was a bit of a struggle, especially since he was trying to keep the semi in his pants hidden. Her demonstration of a couple of different exercises was amusing. How in the hell were basic leg lifts going to help?

  “Now, when I start the music, I want you to do two sets of five.” She was so enthusiastic. He didn’t have the heart to tell her this was never going to work. He’d had the same arguments with the therapists in the hospital. Which was why he wouldn’t do them. The first song started playing and he met her amused expression.

  “Eye of the Tiger.” John chuckled. “Really!”

  “Come on! Let’s see that leg moving, Mister. You’re stalling.” She snapped her fingers.

  After the first set, his leg was actually tired. He couldn’t believe it. Half way through the second set he was sweating.

  A couple of familiar voices floated in from the hallway. Aaron and Nick sauntered into the room like they were God’s gifts. It pissed him off. Especially when Stephanie smiled as the two fools jumped around like boxers and sang along with the song. His brothers were always good for a laugh, but now they were just pissing him off. Jealousy was not a good look on him. The music stopped.

  “Aww, I was just getting into that.” Aaron gave her his fake pout. John was sure it got his little brother into many unsuspecting girls’ panties.

  “Wow, you guys can really sing.” She gushed. “You should start a band.”

  He and his two brothers laughed and the confusion on her face was priceless.

  “They already did.” John chuckled.

  “I’m confused!”

  “A.J., Nick, Mike and some friends started a band a couple of years ago. They help raise money for different charities. The band is called Rocking the Law because all the members were lawyers, police and law students.” John explained.

  “That’s great.” She seemed awestruck, and he didn’t like it.

  “You neglected to tell her big brother we’ve been missing a member of the band for the past couple of months.” Nick lifted an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, the groupies really miss ya, bro.” A.J. winked. What he wouldn’t give to jump up and punch his little brother right now.

  “Really! You sing too?” If he was being honest, it gave him a little boost to his ego that she seemed so impressed.

  “Yeah, he usually plays the keyboard, but there’s a couple of ballads he does that make the ladies swoon.” Aaron grinned. />
  “Shut up, A.J,” John growled. The last thing he wanted her to believe was he was an asshole who jumped from woman to woman. He wasn’t.

  “You know; I’ve noticed you say that to him a lot.” Stephanie laughed.

  “I know, and I’m starting to get offended.” Aaron stuck out his bottom lip. That fucking pout again. Nothing offended Aaron. He moved closer to Stephanie, and John was somewhat appeased when Stephanie rolled her eyes at Aaron.

  “Are you here for a reason, or just to irritate me?” John growled.

  “Well, irritating you is always fun but the ole man asked us to come over and do some yard work,” Aaron said while he looked through the songs on the IPod. He couldn’t even mow his own lawn. “Hey, this is really good music.” Aaron smiled at Stephanie and something in John’s stomach twisted. It wasn’t like he was flirting with her, but it wouldn’t take long.

  “The beat of the music always helps me when I’m working out.” Stephanie put the IPod back in the dock.

  “It worked. Very well.” Aaron winked at her.

  “And there it is,” John grumbled.

  “What?” Aaron was genuinely confused. The guy didn’t even know what he did.

  “You’ve been here all of ten minutes, and you’re hitting on the woman,” John said.

  “It’s a gift.” Aaron gave that panty melting smile.

  “No, it’s a sickness.” John snapped. Stephanie smiled at Aaron. Was she interested? The thought made his chest hurt and gave him the sudden urge to kick his brother’s ass.

  “We should probably get started before Mr. Grump starts throwing things.” Nick winked at Stephanie and pulled Aaron behind him out of the room.

  “They are habitual flirts,” John mumbled.

  “I’ve been told they honed their skills by watching their big brother.” Stephanie knelt next to John on the mat.

  “Yeah, Mike can be pretty bad too.” John was a bit of a flirt himself. Well, he used to be. Stephanie playfully poked him, and he grabbed her hand. His eyes met hers, and those emerald green eyes were intoxicating. I’m in deep trouble. No woman had ever affected him this way. When her gaze moved to his lips, he stiffened. Was she feeling something too? She had to be able to hear how hard his heart was pounding. When her eyes met his again she jumped to her feet.