Rose

  He loves animals, he’s kind and gentle with the wounded, and he served in the military—three things that always impress me. And he’s a lawyer, so he must believe in justice. When you add to that the fact that he’s hot as hell and gainfully employed, well . . . let’s just say it makes the idea of this breakfast a little more exciting than usual.

  When I hear the front door open, I rush over to the mirror that hangs on the wall in the back room so I can check my teeth for anything that shouldn’t be there. I brush the loose blond hairs away from the sides of my face and smooth the rest of it back into the clip that keeps it out of the way when I’m working. I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart before I step out into the hallway with a big smile.

  Amber is standing in the lobby with a picnic basket in her hand. “Well, don’t you look bright and cheery,” she says, walking farther into the room. She goes over to Banana and reaches down to give him a scratch behind the ears. “Hey there, little guy. How are you feeling this morning?”

  Banana whines as his tail brushes the floor.

  “He needs to get up and move around a little bit,” I say, walking out and trying to hide my disappointment behind a brisk, businesslike tone. I have a job to do and I’m going to get it done, even if I’m way more affected by Greg’s no-show than I want to admit.

  “What’s the matter?” Amber asks. “Were you expecting someone else to bring you your breakfast, by any chance?”

  I can hear the sly tone in her voice, but I don’t react to it. With Amber, I’m always better off pretending nothing’s going on. Nobody can dig into a personal situation deeper and faster than she can.

  “No. I’m not very hungry, is all.”

  “I saw that big smile on your face when I walked in the door. You thought I was Lister.”

  I sigh as I look down at Banana. “His name is Greg.”

  “Oh, is that so? We’re on a first-name basis now?”

  I glare at her with my hands on my hips. “Don’t you think you should be on a first-name basis with him? You work with him every day.”

  She snorts. “Believe me, if you had to work with him every day, you would not be on a first-name basis with him; you wouldn’t want to be.”

  I let my arms fall to my sides. Maybe I was wrong about him. “What are you talking about?”

  She waves her hand in the air between us, brushing off my question. “Never mind. Forget I said anything. Are you okay? I can’t believe someone broke in here the night before last.”

  “I’m fine. Really. Totally fine.”

  She frowns. “You sure?”

  “Absolutely.” The last thing I need is my sister freaking out over my problems while pregnant, so I work hard to convince her with my expression. The smile is hard work.

  “Are you hungry?” She holds up the picnic basket. “This stuff isn’t going to eat itself, you know.”

  I take it from her, setting it down on a nearby chair and opening it up. There’s a warm muffin, a breakfast burrito, and an apple. My appetite comes back as I smell the delicious scents wafting up from inside. “This looks yummy.”

  “You can thank your buddy Greg for that apple,” Amber says, sitting down in the chair next to the basket.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. He made me put that apple in there.”

  “He’s still here?”

  “Yes, he’s still here.” She tilts her head. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  I take a chair on the opposite side of the basket from Amber and reach inside it. I select the muffin because I’m disappointed at Greg’s no-show, and I know the blueberries inside it will cheer me up. “There’s nothing going on.”

  “Baloney. He stayed here forever last night. I thought you guys were probably getting it on, but then he came back and he was all grouchy, so I knew that didn’t happen.”

  I nearly choke on my muffin. When I recover, I bug my eyes out at her. “Are you serious? Getting it on? Here in the clinic?”

  She smiles. “Why not? He’s hot. You’re hot. You guys could start a fire with the sparks that fly between you two.”

  “I don’t even know the guy.” Crumbs come flying out of my mouth with every word. I slap my hand over my mouth to stop the disaster from getting worse.

  “So what? Both Em and I are proof you don’t need to spend a lot of time with a guy to totally fall for him. What were you two doing in here all night, anyway?”

  I chew my muffin and shake my head, answering her after I’ve swallowed. “He was only here for, like, a half hour. We didn’t do anything. We walked Banana; that’s it.”

  “So . . . the big smile of pleasure I saw on your face this morning . . . Was that for me? No, it couldn’t have been because you didn’t know I was coming. Could it have been for him, perhaps?”

  I shrug, pulling more of the paper off my muffin. I can’t look my sister in the eye. “Maybe.”

  “Yeah, I figured.” She nods sagely.

  I look over at her, unable to resist the pull. “How? Why?”

  “I could see it at dinner. He’s into you.”

  I frown, disappointed in her obviously bogus interpretation. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  She grabs the edge of the basket in her enthusiasm. “No, he is. He totally is. Every time he’s here, you’re the one he wants to talk to.”

  “So? I’m easy to talk to, and we don’t talk about anything more exciting than the weather, except when he’s hounding me about that money.”

  “Maybe it’s because you’re easy. Maybe not. He definitely makes the effort where you’re concerned.”

  “I didn’t say I’m easy.” I reach over and slap her arm. “I said I’m easy to talk to. Big difference.”

  “Whatever.” She grins big.

  “You and Emerald are spoken for and dating his clients. Maybe he’s worried about Sam or Ty getting jealous if he talks to you. That’s why he’s always stuck talking to me.”

  “Bull-ony. Come on, don’t deny it. There’s something going on between you two. Admit it.”

  “No.”

  “Not even one little spark?” She leans toward me with a ridiculous expression on her face.

  I open my mouth to answer but then close it. She’ll know if I lie, so I’m better off saying nothing. At least, that’s my theory.

  “See?” She points at my face. “I knew it.”

  So much for my theory. Amber is too good at reading people. “Regardless, it doesn’t matter.” I take a big bite of my muffin and chew it, smiling. I’m not going to let this silliness get me down, because in a couple weeks I am going to start dating someone. Anyone. Whoever at the bar asks me first gets me. I don’t care what he looks like, I will say yes. Senior citizens are not off the table. All this angst proves that getting out into the dating world a little will do me good. I definitely need more practice talking to men, and I could use some time away from the clinic.

  “Of course it matters,” she says, scooting to the edge of her chair and turning to face me. Her hands start moving as she uses her own strange version of sign language while she speaks animatedly. “He’s into you. You could go on a date. Then you guys could do stuff together.” She winks about ten times.

  I laugh. “How old are you?”

  She points at me. “Do not mock me. I am pregnant and no longer on the market. I live vicariously through you.”

  “Since when? You haven’t missed out on anything. You don’t need to live through me.”

  “Maybe I have missed stuff. You don’t know. I’m only twenty-five.”

  I put my muffin down and reach over to take her hand. “Are you serious? Are you regretting your relationship with Ty?”

  She shoves me away. “No. Don’t be silly.”

  “You promise there’s nothing wrong?”

  She sighs and rolls her eyes to the ceiling. “Heaven save me from dense people.”

  I laugh, picking up my muffin and eating another bite. “Excuse me very much.”
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  She faces me again. “Do you ever think that maybe you’re wasting your life living in this leaky barn all day and all night, every single day of the year?”

  I stop chewing as my temperature rises. “No.” The word comes out muffled, filtered by crumbs. I hate that Amber is thinking the same thing about me that I’m feeling about myself: that I’m awkward and socially inept.

  “You never regret the fact that you have no free time and that you can’t ever go out and meet people?”

  “I meet plenty of people,” I say, painfully swallowing my very dry lump of suddenly tasteless food.

  “Tell me the last time you went out on a date. If you can remember.”

  My mind frantically searches for the information she’s requested. The answer comes back and it ain’t pretty. Dammit. I think the last time was eight months ago, and it didn’t go anywhere. One date to a movie, and he never called me back. What was his name? I can’t even remember. “That’s none of your business.”

  She laughs loudly. “Since when?”

  I shrug, popping the last bite of muffin into my mouth. I don’t bother trying to finish chewing it before I talk. “Since you decided to shack up with Ty.”

  She raises an eyebrow at me. “Shack up? Are you kidding?”

  This could turn into a full-blown argument, and I don’t want to go there. I have to take care of Banana, and I don’t have the energy for it. I let out a long sigh that deflates my entire body. “Can we just stop this for right now?”

  Amber’s expression softens. “Of course we can. As soon as you admit that I am right.”

  I roll my eyes and throw up my hands, sending muffin crumbs out onto the floor. “Fine. You’re right. You’re right about everything.”

  She grins. “I am right about Greg being into you.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Thank you, because I do say so. And I’m right about you being into him.”

  I glare at her.

  She points at me. “Don’t try to argue that it’s not true, because I can go all day.”

  I shake my head and close my eyes. “Fine. I think he’s cute. I think he’s nice, and he likes dogs.”

  “Perfect. So he’s into you and you’re into him. So why is he not here delivering this breakfast, I wonder?”

  I open one eye to look at her while she pretends to be seriously flummoxed.

  “Because he’s not into me and you’re wrong?”

  She reaches over blindly and taps my face, trying to cover my mouth. “No. Shush. I’m thinking.”

  I push her hand away and stand. “It doesn’t matter. He’s leaving today, and I’m staying here. End of story.”

  She rises and walks over with me to stand next to Banana. “Since when is a little distance the end of the story?” she asks softly.

  “Since the beginning of time.”

  “But you’re forgetting . . . ,” she starts counting off her fingers, “Sam and Em, me and Ty, Cash and Mooch and Red and our mothers . . .”

  I reach over and put my hand over her mouth. “That’s enough. Help me with Banana.” I release her so I can gather up the sheet I’m going to use to support his front end again.

  “This looks like it needs somebody with some muscle,” Amber says. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and starts tapping away at it.

  “Not really. You should be fine.”

  “Okay, but if I’m going to do this, I need to go pee first.” She leaves me standing there with the sheet in my hand.

  I roll my eyes at her weak bladder and squat down to give my baby some attention. His former IV site is looking good, but he had his last bag of fluids yesterday, so he’s going to want some water soon. I check my watch just to be sure it’s okay to let him drink now. Yep. Should be good. I don’t see him relapsing or having any other problems, so I get him a bowl of water and a small serving of dog food and rice mixed together. I pause outside the bathroom door when I’m walking by to yell in to my sister.

  “You building a log cabin in there?”

  Amber shrieks from inside. “Would you guys stop saying that to me! Ty’s going to hear you one day!”

  “I’ll bet he already did.” When Emerald told me the story about how she accidentally told Ty’s brother, Sam, that Amber was building a log cabin before she even met him for the first time, I nearly peed myself laughing. My sweet, creative, and very shy sister sometimes says the exact wrong thing at the exact right time. I just wish I had been there to witness it with my own eyes and ears.

  “Shut up,” Amber barks. “Just shut up and leave me alone. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  I deliver the food to Banana and help him get up so he can eat it. He also drinks some of the water, and I take it as a sign that he’s on the road to recovery. If only he had one more leg, this would be so much easier.

  “Aren’t you done yet?” I shout toward the bathroom. I get no answer.

  The front door opens behind me, sending a gust of air through the lobby. Greg is standing in the entrance, his cheeks pink and his hair disheveled. He’s breathing hard enough to make me think he ran all the way from the house.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Well,” is all I can think to say as I take in the vision before me. Talk about sexy. Greg looks like he just went for a roll in the hay. I wish I had been there with him.

  “I heard there’s an emergency and you need my help.” He slams the door behind him and walks over.

  It takes a few seconds for his words to sink in before I roll my eyes and sigh, picturing Amber texting on her phone. “I’m really sorry about that. That was probably Amber sending you a false alarm.” She’s matchmaking. I’m going to kill her. With pain. I don’t care if she’s pregnant; it doesn’t grant her immunity from humiliating me.

  “Where is she?” he asks, looking around.

  I smile evilly. “She’s busy building a log cabin right now.”

  He frowns. “She’s building a log cabin? Is that a good idea in her condition?”

  The look on his face is classic lost guy. I start laughing so hard I can’t contain it. I hold my stomach and bend over so I don’t accidentally vomit up the blueberry muffin I just ate.

  “Okay, I’m not sure I understand. Do you still need my help or not?”

  I gesture for him to follow me over to Banana as I work to control myself. “Yeah. Since you’re here anyway, do you want to help me walk him a little bit?”

  “Sure. No problem.” Greg takes up his position near the dog and I get the sheet in place. Together we get the enthusiastic pup walking around the lobby. He definitely has more energy and balance than he did last night. I’m finally able to control my mirth over Amber’s log-cabin-building career when I realize it takes too much energy to hold the dog up and laugh at the same time.

  “Listen,” Greg says, the muscles in his arms straining as he helps Banana steady himself, “I’m sorry I didn’t bring your breakfast like I said I would.”

  “That’s all right. Amber brought it.”

  “Yeah, I know. I just . . .” He doesn’t finish his sentence.

  “Thanks for the apple.”

  He looks up at me. “The apple?”

  “Amber told me you insisted there be an apple in there.”

  “Yeah, well . . . an apple a day keeps the lawyer away, right?”

  The insecurity in his voice makes my heart go out to him. “I thought the apple was for keeping the doctor away.”

  “Oh, yeah. That’s right.”

  “I think if you wanted to keep the lawyer away, you’d put something else in the basket,” I say in a teasing tone.

  “Oh, yeah? What would that be?”

  “I don’t know. A Taser?”

  He barks out a hearty laugh, and his face wrinkles up on the sides with the strength of his smile. He looks up at me with his eyes twinkling, his bright white teeth shining at me. “That was a good one.”

  I can’t help but smile back. “Thanks. I just came up with that on my own.”
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  Banana starts wagging his tail as he looks at the door. I glance over my shoulder, concerned we’re not going to be able to make it outside where he wants to go.

  “What’s the matter?” Greg asks.

  “I think he wants to go out.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  Thunder rumbles.

  “Okay. But we probably shouldn’t go too far. I think it’s about to rain.”

  We make our way over to the door and outside. Banana does his best to relieve himself without making a mess. He’s partially successful.

  “Good boy.” Just as the words are out of my mouth, the rain starts. First, it’s just a couple of droplets, but then . . . not so much.

  “Okay! Back in we go,” I say enthusiastically as the water starts running down my back. Banana, unfortunately, is happy in the rain. He sticks his tongue out and smiles, panting happily at the puddles forming around us. I don’t think he’s very happy being cooped up in the clinic, poor thing.

  “You want me to carry him?” Greg is ready to act on my command.

  “Go for it. Just watch that leg.”

  “Sure.” Greg lifts my pup as easily as he would a feather pillow. Banana takes advantage of the situation and gives Greg a serious lick-bath on the way to the door. Greg winces. “Thank you. Oh, thank you so much, Banana. That’s great. I’ll just grab another shower when I get back to the house. Oh, man, that’s great.”

  I can’t help but giggle as I assist Greg with settling the dog back onto his makeshift bed. Banana can’t stop wagging his tail and lunging for Greg’s face to give him more kisses. Greg is being a seriously good sport, wincing and laughing. If I had a tail, I’d be wagging it too. Greg can be very charming when he wants to be. It’s sad to say that I’m jealous of my dog’s ability to so easily and demonstratively share his feelings.