You Can See Me
It takes more than perseverance to recover from tragedy…you also need love.
Following a horrific accident that leaves him blind, renowned chef Prescott Vaughan loses his fiancé and all hope for his career. Recovery and confidence in his skills come slowly, along with feelings he hasn’t experienced in a long time when he meets his new neighbor, Dr. Rickson Edwards.
Unlike Prescott, Ric is open about his attraction to men yet has issues that complicate their relationship. A brief separation threatens his hopes for an eventual reunion when Prescott befriends the handsome aspiring chef Blair McKenzie, who wants more than cooking advice.
Ric doubts Pres can let go of the charming southerner, but after an encounter with the sinfully sexy man, he can’t help his attraction as well. Pres feels he must choose but realizes…does he have to?
This book is not part of a series.
The main characters from this book will be supporting characters in Nothing Special IV
Ric was one hundred percent exhausted. Even though he was still off the surgery rotation, he was swamped down in the ER handling small traumas. Halloween night was one of those nights the hospital dreaded…along with every other unofficial holiday. Every one of the hospital staff was either there or on call, andRic handled everything from sugar overdoses to gunshot wounds. Jesus Christ, the damn bar fights are the worst. Assholes getting drunk and pummeling each other—in silly-ass costumes—until they are either pepper-sprayed by the cops or one of them gets brutally injured.
Ric was in deep thought as he made his way into his building. Everything about the shift had royally gotten under his skin. His coworkers had steered clear of him and his foul mood. He’d barked and growled at the nurses and orderlies for everything, whether it was their fault or not. If he hadn’t run into Prescott and his smoking-hot date, then perhaps things wouldn’t have gone so bad. It’d never dawned on him that Pres would eventually move on. Ric was the one who had sworn off relationships since he stormed off Pres’s yacht. How could I be so stupid? Of course he would move on. I just didn’t expect it to be with a man. Sure as fuck not one that looked like a six-foot-two Texas god.
Ric got pissed every time he thought of that man’s face or that sexy accent. His body shook, and his hands clenched. Ric couldn’t say for sure if his panic attacks hadn’t gone undetected by his coworkers tonight or not. However, if Ric was being totally honest, he couldn’t care less. It was five in the morning, and all he could think about was crashing hard. He didn’t even stop and get breakfast at his favorite diner for fear of falling asleep at the counter. Ric trudged through his building lobby and tried to give smiles to some of the staff, but doubted he managed to pull it off. He decided to bypass the stairs, which he usually took in his continuous effort to avoid Pres, but today he just couldn’t make the trek. He was bone tired. Ric leaned his head back against the elevator paneling and watched the numbers light up all the way to floor ten before his eyes drifted shut for the rest of the way. When the doors opened, he came face-to-face with Prescott’s Texan. Fuck me.
Instead of the gorgeous prick getting on the elevator and leaving, the cocky bastard took a couple steps back and leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway and stared openly at him as if he hadn’t a care in the world. His hazel eyes scanned Ric up and down, taking in his disheveled, stressed-out appearance. “Do you have a fucking problem?” Ric growled, refusing to pretend to be cordial to the man even though he was a complete stranger and had done absolutely nothing to him. The man had the nerve to smirk at him and shake his head as if pitying Ric, or perhaps throwing it in Ric’s face that he’d definitely had a better night than he had. Ric did try to hide his anger at knowing the man had slept with his Pres. Why the hell else would he be leaving at five in the damn morning? Unless he delivered newspapers or milk, he had absolutely no reason to be on this floor this time of morning. Bastard. “No, I don’t have a problem,” he drawled slowly, making sure to put extra enunciation on the “I” part of his sentence. “But, obviously, you do. Or else you wouldn’t be scowling at me for no reason.” “Fuck you,” Ric snarled, stepping just a little closer.
He wanted to tear the man’s lips off for talking with that accent. Then he wanted to rip his hands off for daring to touch his Prescott. The man’s probably a male gold digger. “Did you enjoy taking advantage of Prescott? Did you get what you came for?” Ric growled like a rabid animal three inches away from the man’s face, but he’d be damned if the asshole didn’t even flinch at his showcase of fury. No reaction whatsoever. The Texan had one hand casually tucked in his jeans pocket, kicking back one side of his stylish blazer, while he lazily rubbed his other hand over his taut chest and washboard abs that showed through the thin material of his un-tucked dress shirt. Ric hated to admit it, but the man looked well fucked, and he wore it well. “How could you do that to someone like him?” Ric fumed, and it took everything in him to control his rage. If I hit him, no one would know. There’s no one around, no witnesses. It’d be his word against mine. “I knew I’d peg you in less than five minutes.”
The man spoke with one dark brown eyebrow cocked up. He ran his fingers through his bed-tousled dark brown hair and let out an exasperated breath. “Excuse me?” Ric blinked. “Now I know why you were too stupid to hold on to Prescott Vaughan. You were too busy feeling sorry for him. Instead of you seeing a brilliant man, a world-renowned, accomplished chef who happens to be one of the most talented men to ever set foot in a kitchen, you see a needy, helpless man. Ahhh. Now it makes perfect sense.” “Don’t try to act like you know me because you don’t,” Ric growled, still trying to be mindful they were in the hallway of the floor that he lived on. The Texan pushed off the wall and closed the few inches between them. His six feet, two inches of height had him eye to eye with Ric, and the man showed no fear. His handsome face was now a mask of furious anger. “I saw you treat him like shit on the bottom of your shoes last night. I watched him beg you for five fuckin’ minutes of your time, and you spat in his face.
Now, you have the audacity to say I’m mistreating him? Fuck you,” he snarled right back at Ric. Just as fast as the man’s anger came, it disappeared, and he composed himself to reveal that smirk that Ric selfishly rejoiced Pres couldn’t see, because it was sexy as fuck…and the man knew it. Ric watched his competition push the elevator button as he rubbed his hand over his morning stubble before speaking again. “You know what they say, don’t you, Doc? One man’s trash is another man’s treasure, and Prescott Vaughan is definitely a rare, precious treasure.” The Texan inched in even closer, which surprised the hell out of Ric since they were practically nose to nose. Ric was smacked in the face with a faint soap-and-water fragrance that made his eyelids flutter and his own dick jerk to life. Ric’s half-lidded eyes were riveted to the Texan’s plush lips as he leaned in and whispered directly into Ric’s open mouth. “If you don’t pull your head out of your ass and claim Prescott Vaughan like he wants, I won’t stop until I’ve fucked the sexy strawberry ten ways to Sunday and there’s not a single trace of your existence left in his mind, because with or without you, he needs love, and I was the one there last night to lick his sweet tears when you walked away.” The elevator doors opened at his final words, and the smooth Texan took a few graceful steps backward into the elevator and gave Ric a sexy wink right before the doors closed. Fucking asshole, Ric thought.