“But I need her,” Dev insisted, his voice taking on a plaintive tone.
“I’m sorry, but I think it’s best if you moved on. Most of all, baby brother, I think you need to do a lot of soul searching and maturing before you even think about getting in another relationship.”
Dev’s eyes widened. “You…You fucking bastard!” he shouted. Pesh was debating calling security to remove his unruly brother when he was knocked off his stool by Dev’s right hook to his jaw. He tumbled backward and crashed onto the floor. Before Dev could do something like kick him when he was down, Megan appeared and wedged herself between them.
“I think you better leave before I call security,” she demanded.
Pesh struggled to his feet as Megan came into Dev’s line of fire. He couldn’t bear if Dev hurt her in his anger just because she had taken up for him. Dev stared down at Megan with a smirk. “So my brother needs some pint-sized pussy defending him now? Word to the wise, sweetheart, don’t waste your time on him. He’s only got a boner for his dead wife.”
A deep growl erupted in Pesh’s throat as he lunged for his brother. But he never made it. Instead, Megan’s fist cracked into Dev’s jaw. The impact didn’t take him off his feet, but he did stagger backwards. Even as she flailed her wrist back and forth from the obvious pain, Megan still managed to bellow, “Get the hell out of here. Now.”
Dev stared at her in shock as he rubbed his jaw. “Crazy bitch,” he muttered, before stalking off.
When Megan turned to him, her glowering expression faded to one of concern. “You’re bleeding!” she cried, rushing for him.
His hand came up to grip his cheek. Surprise flooded him when he felt wetness. Dev must’ve hit him harder than he thought. He slid his jaw back and forth, causing him to grimace at the popping sound. “Come here,” Megan said, grabbing his hand.
She started leading him over to one of the examining rooms, but he jerked back. “I don’t need all this fuss.”
Megan shook her head. “We need to get you cleaned up.”
Resignedly, he followed her into the room. For the first time in a long time, he found himself on the opposite line of care. He eased down onto the examining table. “Really, Megan, this isn’t necessary.”
As she busied herself taking out gauze, cotton balls, and antiseptic, she replied, “Quit your bitchin’.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. At what must have been his incredulous expression at her word choice, she grinned. “That’s right. Just shut up and let me take care of you.”
“When you put it like that, how can I not?” he teased.
Her laughter warmed his heart. Deep down, he was pleased to find her so attentive to him. She obviously really cared about him if she insisted on cleaning him up. Or was she just attentive because she was a great nurse? But then there was the fact she punched Dev for insulting him. Of course, that was also mortifying. Did that mean she questioned his manhood since he didn’t go toe-to-toe with his brother? God, what she must think of him now.
As he allowed Megan to treat his cuts, his thoughts turned to Dev’s last verbal punch. He grimaced about Dev’s alluding to the fact he was in love with a ghost. Was that what stopped Megan from believing his attraction to her? Was she really hiding her commitment phobia behind a belief that he was still completely in love with his wife?
His feelings gave him away when Megan asked, “Are you hurting?”
“No, I’m fine.” When she gave him a skeptical look, he replied, “It’s more the fact that I’m angry than I am physically hurt.”
“So what exactly was all that about?” she asked, as she dabbed some antiseptic along his jawline.
He winced when the medication hit the broken skin. “My brother is angry with me.”
Megan snorted. “No shit.” She held the cotton ball frozen as she eyed him curiously. “What I’m wondering is what got him so fired up that he would stomp into a hospital, call you out, and then punch you? You are the last person on earth I would imagine being in a fight.”
“The reason is so cliché,” he murmured.
“Enlighten me,” she urged.
“He’s a petulant child who didn’t get his way—he’s lashing out at me because he thinks it’s all my fault.”
“I heard the name Mia. Was it all about a woman?”
“Yes, that’s why I called it cliché.” He sucked in a harsh breath before filling Megan in about what all had transpired between him, Dev, and Mia.
“Wow,” she murmured, when he finished.
“I suppose that is all one can say about the situation.”
“You were awfully kind to take care of her like you did—I mean, with both her abusive ex-boyfriend and Dev.”
He shrugged. “What else was I supposed to do? I cared for her, and I wanted to see her happy.” At the look that flashed in Megan’s eyes, he quickly added, “There was no amorous love between us. I was happily married at the time, and she desperately needed someone to be strong for her.”
Megan cupped his unhurt cheek in her hand. “You really are the most decent man I’ve ever known.”
“I don’t know about that,” he murmured.
“You truly are.” She shook her head. “No wonder women are so crazy about you. It’s one thing for you to be so good-looking and a smart doctor, but then when you add in the fact of how sweet, caring, and compassionate you are, it’s like you’re a triple threat.” She turned to throw the cotton ball into the trash can.
His heartbeat thrummed louder and louder at her words while he sat unblinking and unmoving. Part of him wanted to rail at her for not seeing him like all the other women did. If she truly saw what others did, then she would want to date him, wouldn’t she? Why couldn’t she see how good he could be for her?
When Megan met his tense gaze, she jerked back and momentarily faltered by dropping the piece of gauze in her hand. She quickly deposited the soiled one in the trash and then got another one. “So this Mia chick, she’s run off with some drummer, huh?” she asked, clearly trying to change the subject and lighten the mood in the room.
“Not just any drummer. A famous one at that.”
“Really? What band?”
Pesh’s cocked his head as he tried remembering. “Something train.”
Megan gasped. “Not Runaway Train?”
He snapped his fingers. “That’s it.”
Clapping her hand to her chest, Megan’s eyes widened. “You know someone who knows AJ Resendiz?”
Pesh laughed. “I suppose I do if you consider that’s Mia’s fiancé.”
“That is so wild. I love that band.”
“I’ll see if I can get you an autograph.”
With a squeal, Megan said, “Really? That would be amazing.”
“Anything for the woman who is willing to risk her life for me.”
Megan laughed. “It was nothing.”
“What about your hand?”
“I’m not going to lie. It hurts. I kinda forgot what punching someone felt like.”
Pesh couldn’t help his brows from rising in surprise. “Have you done a lot of fighting?”
She grinned. “Not exactly MMA material, am I?” When he merely shook his head, she replied, “I may have thrown a few punches in my early college partying days when a guy overstepped his bounds.”
With a smile, Pesh said, “Good for you.”
“Yeah, my dad was really big on teaching me self-defense moves. You know, with him being ex-military.”
Pesh couldn’t help liking Megan’s strength and spunk. He hadn’t known a lot of women like her. In his world, women were bred to be demure and obedient. Even though Jade wasn’t Indian, she would’ve never dreamed of throwing a punch to defend him against Dev. But Megan, she was so refreshing with her ability to stand up for herself and others—to voice her mind whether it was good or bad.