Courting Trouble

He went through the motions again, this time focusing on stretching rather than power. Toes down was easier. Toes up, not so much.

He looked at the numbers the doc scribbled on his chart. He was the same on the first one, but the latter had improved about three degrees from his last visit.

Not good enough.

‘Fuck,’ he muttered loud enough for the nurse in the room to flinch.

The doc had had him long enough as a patient to know he could get much more creative in his swearing. ‘Come on, now. Side to side.’

He went through that test and then the rolling one that followed. He glowered when his foot hit a hitch and refused to roll in a perfect circle.

‘When is that going to go away?’ he asked.

‘Now, Jason, we’ve talked about this. You went through a traumatic injury. You’ve made tremendous strides, but it’s been a long time. It’s probable you’ll never get that full range of motion back.’

‘Bullshit. I gained three degrees this time.’

Jason pulled his sock back on. Why they kept these damn examination rooms so cold was beyond him, and he didn’t like that he’d been kept waiting for twenty minutes. Time was money.

There was a low roar as the doctor pulled over a stool on wheels. He perched on it and rubbed his jaw. ‘I have to be honest. There’s not much more I can do for you.’

‘What about that hydrotherapy? Or acupuncture?’

‘You can try it. Are you still experiencing pain?’

He hated to call what he felt pain. It wasn’t like he’d been checked into the boards or high-sticked in his pro’ hockey days. ‘It aches on days when rain is coming through. Sometimes it stiffens up.’

The doc nodded. ‘I can give you some pills for the pain.’

‘No pills.’

‘Then I can set up some hydrotherapy treatments for you. I’m sorry, but I don’t know many doctors who practise Eastern medicine.’

‘I’ll find someone.’

The doc sighed and put aside his chart. ‘Jason, you ruptured your Achilles tendon and broke your ankle. Badly. I think you have to accept that it will never be the same again.’

‘I know that.’ But it would be the best it could be, which damn well would be better than everyone else’s. ‘Set up those appointments, and I’ll see you again in three months.’

‘Jason.’

He held up his hand, fingers spread wide. ‘Five more degrees.’

The doc had told him last time that he was at his limit, but he’d managed to eke out three more degrees.

He hopped off the table and reached for his cross-trainer.

‘Maybe you should take it easy,’ the doctor said. ‘Pushing all the time isn’t necessarily good.’

‘If you don’t push, others will start pulling you.’ Kneeling down, Jason felt the stretch in his calf, but he refused to acknowledge it. ‘Mind if I put in a workout in your PT room?’

The doc was shaking his head, even as he was smiling. ‘Go ahead. I know you’ll just go down the street to the gym if I say no.’

Jason smirked. The doc knew him pretty well after all.

* * *

He put in a good 45 minutes of circuit-training in the PT facility and then spent the rest of the hour stretching. He still felt that was what had got him in the end. Tough guys didn’t spend enough time stretching. They focused on building their muscles, pulling them tighter and tighter.

Until something just snapped.

When he finished showering and dressing, he was already thinking of the work that awaited him. Bodycheck had been awarded the federal contract to protect the nation’s soldiers. A lot of work had gone into preparing that proposal, but even more awaited now that they’d won the contract.

And his pet project was still out there … He still hadn’t heard from Mandy or Tandy … whatever the hell her name was.

He was lifting his phone to call for his car when he saw the restaurant across the street. The Apple Tree Grille.

Wasn’t that the restaurant that had catered the Aquamarine event?

He slowly tucked the phone away in his pocket. It was close enough to lunchtime to eat.

As he crossed the street, it was the first time that deals or technology weren’t the first things in his mind. Instead, a beautiful blonde had reappeared in his frontal lobe.

He shrugged. He had little time for women and he didn’t trust them, but that didn’t mean he didn’t like to look.

And he’d liked looking at her. A lot.

He’d liked even more the zing that had gone through his system and straight to his groin. Oh, he could get it up all right when he needed to. It had just been a long time since he’d felt that kind of surprise.

He walked in and glanced around the establishment. The place had a reputation that was growing. During breakfast and lunch hours, it was known to be somewhat of a throwback. It called to the sentimental side of hardened DC diners. In the evening, though, it upped its game to try to compete with the bigger names.

He liked the throwback feel more, especially if it was accompanied by a tall cool blonde with expressive blue eyes.

He didn’t see her as the hostess led him to a table. A waitress came up to ask for his drink order, but she was a sunshine blonde. Not an icy heartbreaker.

She took a cautious step back when he looked at her. ‘Is … is something the matter, sir?’

He stopped just short of grumbling. The delicate ones put him on edge, making him feel like a bull in a china shop. ‘Do you have any other blonde waitresses working here?’

The woman’s hand went self-consciously to her hair. ‘Blonde?’

‘She worked at the Smithsonian a few weeks back.’

‘Oh, the catering event.’

Sunshine looked around the restaurant. ‘There’s Sally.’

He followed her gaze. ‘No.’