You Drive Me Crazy (The Blackwells of Crystal Lake 2)

Prologue

Thanksgiving weekend…

It was a true fact the moment Arlene Moody pressed her foot against the gas pedal of her beat-up Chevy Malibu and sped out of the grocery store parking lot, she set in motion a series of events that would forever change the lives of two people. The two people in question, Wyatt Blackwell and Regan Thorne, weren’t exactly friends.

Case in point.

On that day, less than forty-eight hours after a Thanksgiving meal that had led to a near-perfect turkey coma, Regan had done everything in her power to avoid running into hometown hero Wyatt. She knew he was being presented an award and that the ceremony was to take place downtown. With that in mind, she’d purposefully taken the long way to the hospital and avoided any chance of running into the one man in Crystal Lake she disliked more than any other. She’d even managed, however briefly, not to think about him. Not even in passing. It was her day off, and her only plan was to catch up on paperwork. She would hole up in her office for the afternoon before heading home under the cover of darkness to curl up with her three-legged dog, Bella, and watch Love Actually.

Not exactly an exciting night for a woman of twenty-nine, but with limited options in a town the size of Crystal Lake, it was all she had.

Of course, this was before Arlene had tossed an extra-large carton of eggs onto the passenger seat and driven off humming an old Hank William’s song. As she’d sung along to “Jambalaya” and approached the main intersection downtown, she’d taken the corner a little too fast, and the eggs had gone flying. Instinctively, she’d reached for them, but unfortunately, as Arlene tried to rescue her eggs, she’d taken her eyes off the road and plowed into the back end of Wyatt Blackwell’s truck.

Less than twenty minutes later, both Arlene and Wyatt were taken to the hospital. They’d both protested, heartily, according to several witnesses, but the EMT who’d attended the scene insisted.

As Regan put up her feet and read over notes from a case she was working on, she got paged to cover Dr. McEachern’s shift in the ER. He’d just assessed two patients involved in a traffic accident but had been called up to Maternity because his young wife of three years had been admitted four weeks early and was about to give birth to their first child.

Regan tossed her notes aside, picked up her tablet, and headed down to the ER. It was the moment both Regan’s and Wyatt’s lives changed. Ironically, neither one of them knew it at the time or sensed what was coming.

But for these particular individuals, that was probably a good thing.

Chapter 1

He heard her voice before he saw her—low and raspy, with a hint of softness that curved around her words like warm water. It was a voice that belonged in the dark, riding the waves of late-night radio—not here under the harsh glare of the ER lights. Wyatt shoved his cell phone back into his jeans and listened intently. There was something familiar about the voice, and he frowned from his perch on the gurney, chewing on his lower lip as he tried to place it.

He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until the curtain was drawn back and he glanced up with a start.

“We’ll have you out of here in no time, Wyatt. I’m just waiting for the doctor to sign off on your release.”

The nurse, Lisa Booker, bustled into the small area as if she owned the place, sporting a big smile that crinkled the corners of her soft brown eyes. Her platinum hair shone, a loose ponytail swaying as she moved toward him. Wyatt had known the woman all his life, and while surprised she was still working, he’d been happy to see a familiar face.

“Thanks, Mrs. Booker.”

Her eyebrows shot up at that. “Mrs. Booker?” She shuddered. “I have been married for nearly thirty years, and when someone calls me Mrs. Booker, I look over my shoulder expecting to see my mother-in-law. Now, she was a lovely woman, God rest her soul, but we’re nothing alike.” She winked. “Lisa will do.”

“Okay.” Wyatt laughed, glad he couldn’t remember that far back. “I was just trying to be polite.”

“Oh, shush now. Polite is for strangers. I recall wiping your butt when you were nothing more than an imp.”

That was something he didn’t need to know. “How’s Arlene doing?” The woman had been brought to the ER with him and was on the other side of the curtain.

“She just had a wee bit of abdominal discomfort, so the doctor has ordered her upstairs for some more tests. We just want to make sure there’s no internal bleeding.”

Concerned, Wyatt sat a little straighter. “Shoot. I hope it’s nothing serious. She seemed okay.”

“And I’m sure she will be.” Lisa offered a smile. “Don’t you worry about a thing.” Her eyes softened. “I hear your dad is doing much better.”

“He’s home. So that’s something.” Wyatt kept his voice neutral. He hated talking about his father. Hated acting like everything was fine between them, especially when it had been bad for so long, he couldn’t remember any of the good. He supposed at one time, back when his mother was still alive, there’d been memories worth remembering. But damn if he could recall them at the moment.

“The Blackwells are known for their strong constitution, and I suppose your daddy is no different.”

Wyatt snuck a peek around Lisa, searching for the owner of the voice that was now a low murmur coming from the next door. But the curtain remained in place, and all he could see was a pair of black running shoes and jean-clad legs.

“You boys made quite a stir coming home for Thanksgiving. I can’t remember the last time all the Blackwell men were in Crystal Lake.”

“Uh-huh.” Pink laces on the black running shoes brought a slight smile to his face. And was that a… The feet in question turned slightly. Damn right it was. A small pink Hello Kitty was fastened to one of the laces on each shoe. The fact that he knew what Hello Kitty was must say something. But what that something was, Wyatt didn’t care to dwell on.

“And how wonderful that your brother Hudson is back to stay.”

“Yeah. It’s all good.” Hello Kitty. It tugged at something inside him. Some memory he couldn’t seem to shake loose.

“Nash told me that

he and Rebecca are back together.”

The black runners moved again, and the curtain shook a bit. “Yep. They seemed to have worked things out.”

“You know my boy is back to stay as well.” Lisa stepped directly in front of him, blocking his view of the black runners and Hello Kitty. “Nash bought The Coach House, and while I don’t think a bar is a good investment, he seems happy, and, well, I’m just glad he’s home.”

If only Lisa would move a bit, maybe he could—

“Wyatt?”

“Yeah?” The curtain was fluttering big-time, and he could see that it was slowly being pulled back.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Sure am.”

In truth, he had no idea what the hell Lisa was going on about. Something Nash. Something Coach House. It was all Greek to him. He was focused, eyes and ears tuned to the curtain as it was tugged all the way back. But the shoes had moved on, and Arlene offered him a wan smile from her bed as an orderly rolled her bed away.

Shit. Where’d she go?

Wyatt glanced to the end of his bed and spied the Hello Kitty runners on the other side of his curtain. He sat up straighter. Okay. Now he was getting somewhere. Anticipation curled in his gut as the curtain slowly moved aside.

Long legs. Denim. The kind of denim that was worn. The kind of denim that was meant for nicely rounded hips, and though he couldn’t see her backside, he was going to assume her butt fit the hips. Wide brown leather belt. Black T-shirt. Willie Nelson gracing the front of said T-shirt. Not exactly what he expected a doctor to be sporting, but he wasn’t complaining, because, well, damn, she filled it out the way a guy liked. His eyes moved upward.

Her head was bent, long dark hair waving over her shoulders and obscuring most of her features, save for a mouth that matched the sexy-as-hell voice to a T. Of course, it did.

“All right, Mr. Black…” The words trailed off, and Wyatt watched closely. She bit her bottom lip and was silent for a few moments, one finger trailing over the tablet in her hands.