Moore To Love by Faith Andrews Page A

honesty, rather than blundering with a try at seduction. “Can I ask you something, Lane?”
    “Sure. What’s up?”
    “How come you never spoke to me before?” I’m not sure I want his answer—or some lame excuse—but it’s too late. Cat’s outta the bag.
    Lane shifts on the bed, looks down, and fingers a loose thread at the hem of his shirt. I’ve learned the art of body language over the years and this is the second time this should-be-cocky-and-confident man has given way to his nerves. “I guess—I don’t know, you were in your zone and I didn’t want to bother you. Besides, you’re kind of intimidating.”
    Yeah, okay. Now it’s my turn to laugh my ass off. The snort that escapes me puts Miss Piggy to shame and gives Lane something to gawk at. “ Me? Intimidating? And what, pray tell, is so intimidating about someone like me ?”
    His expression turns serious; it’s the first time I’ve seen him frown. “Someone like you ?”
    “Yes,” I admit. “I’m not exactly in the same stellar shape as Karen or Jenny and I’ve been described as many things, but intimidating is definitely not one of them.”
    “Well, then call it a first.” I expect him to stop there, but he zones out for a split second and then turns back to face me. “Before today, you didn’t really know anything about me other than that we run on the same track. I’m not sure what impression I gave, but contrary to popular judgment, I’m a quiet guy who keeps to himself a lot. I also don’t know much about you, but from what I’ve seen—you’re a beautiful woman with genuine determination, albeit it clumsy determination, and a really pretty singing voice. My brothers get on my case all the time for being so shy around the ladies, but yeah, everything I’ve just described about you is very intimidating to me.”
    Gulp! Stop the presses . I need to play the lottery because today, my friends, is Madeline Moore’s lucky fucking day. “Wow, Lane. Please forgive me while I pick my chin up off the floor, but, dude, you just made my year.”
    He does that throaty chuckle again and his eyes sparkle with amusement. “Glad to be of service. And speaking of . . .” He reaches in his pocket and takes out his phone, checking the screen. “My shift starts soon. I should get washed up and start my rounds.”
    I can’t help the surge of disappointment that washes over me. I attempt my best sexy-pout and it earns me a playful poke on my leg.
    He rises from the bed and straightens out a few wrinkles in his scrubs. “Tell ya what. I’ll come check on you during my break. That is, of course, if you want company?”
    Eager Beaver wants to come out and play, but I know better. Rather than acting like some overzealous geek, I smile, a genuine one that reaches all the way up to my eyes. “I’d like that a lot.”
    “Great. Get some rest and I’ll see you later, then.” He turns to walk out of the room but looks over his shoulder when I call out his name.
    “Lane?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Thank you for everything. The next time I bump into a tree—because, knowing my track record, it will happen again—I hope you’re there to save the day.”
    Lane grins widely, his dimples showing again. “You got it, babe.”
    He exits and sets off to the land of blue-haired biddies and wrinkly old men. I’m left swooning and squirming, oozing with excitement over the last amazing hour of my life.

    “You smack into a tree and the universe applauds you! Way to go, Leni cakes!”
    As soon as Lane was out of earshot, I grabbed my phone to call Tatum. Within fifteen minutes of telling her about my tree mishap, the hospital, and Lane, she’s at my side, feigning good bedside manner.
    “Tay, can you refill my water glass? The pain meds are making me parched.”
    She scowls as she slops water from the tiny plastic hospital carafe, dripping some over my barely covered legs. “Less drinking, more talking. I want to hear everything. Every. Last.