The One Real Thing
Page 87

“Maybe. Or maybe he just respects her. He was also raised in a world where manners are everything. Maybe he just doesn’t take too kindly to someone insulting a woman that he knows.”
“I imagine it’s all of those things. And more,” I insisted.
“Why do you care if Tremaine likes Bailey? Bailey has Tom.”
This was true. And she seemed to love him . . . but there was something lukewarm about what they had. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Also, I didn’t think he was as supportive as he could be about the inn. Bailey was under pressure as it was and he compiled it by making her feel guilty for working hard.
All I knew was that Bailey Hartwell was one of the most special people I’d ever met and I wanted her to have what I had with Cooper.
Excitement.
Thrill.
An adventure.
I didn’t know how to answer his question without saying all of that to him, so I wrapped my other hand around his elbow and leaned my head on his shoulder as we walked. We were heading to the music shop to price guitars for Joey, who wanted to branch out after the failed piano audition a few weeks back.
I felt the soft touch of Cooper’s kiss on the side of my head. “Leave them be, Doc.”
Doc.
He hadn’t called me that in a while.
I nodded, smiling.
“Cooper.” An older man had stepped out of the doorway of a fish and tackle store and was now striding toward us. “How are you?”
“Dr. Duggan.” Cooper nodded. “I’m good. How are you?”
I tensed against Cooper. I’d met a lot of people over the past few weeks, including the mayor and Kell Summers and his partner, Jake. I had not, however, met the local doctor.
“Oh, trying to sneak in the hobby while I can. It’s not easy what with the practice the way it is.” He smiled at me and held out his hand. “Paul Duggan.”
I shook his hand politely. “Jessica.”
He nodded and his hand tightened ever so slightly. “The doctor who sent Anita to me.”
“Yes. How is she?” Archie hadn’t been into Cooper’s much, and I took that as a good sign for him, but had no idea what it meant for Anita.
His expression turned grim. “It’s a hard battle for her, but it would have been even harder if you hadn’t gotten her to come see me when you did.”
I was struck mute at what to say because the topic of medicine wasn’t exactly an easy one for me at the moment.
“Actually”—he stepped a little closer—“I’m sure you’ve heard, but my daughter left my practice recently and we are in need of another doctor. You are more than welcome to apply, Dr. Huntington.”
My pulse started to race at the offer.
I was not going to lie, I was tempted to jump up and down and scream, “Yes!”
The inn was fun. On good days. But I missed being challenged, and having to deal with obnoxious customers wasn’t the same thing as being challenged with complex medical ailments. Of course I’d had to deal with obnoxious patients (mostly their families, actually), but I could handle that because of the bigger picture.
The problem was I didn’t know if I missed the challenge of doctoring or just being challenged in general. Did I miss the fact that practicing medicine made me feel less guilty about my past or did I just miss being someone who helped people?
“Thank you, Dr. Duggan,” I said finally. “I will keep it in mind.”
“Good.” He gave me a sharp nod and smiled at Cooper. “I’m pleased for you, son.” He clapped him on the shoulder and nodded his good-bye.
As we watched him stride away, I leaned in to Cooper. “People are nice here, Coop.”
“Yeah.” He looked at me in a way that I knew meant he wanted to ask me if I was seriously considering the job offer.
However, he didn’t ask.
In fact, since our argument and the resultant passionate encounter afterward, Cooper hadn’t asked me any questions that might lead to me closing up on him.
The questions might not be asked, like right then, but they might as well have been, because all that the silence did was remind us of my secretiveness. And just like that, the thick tension crept up between us.
When we reached the music store, Cooper took the opportunity to let go of my hand.
I tried not to be paranoid about it.
He needed his other hand to look at guitars, after all.
But the sudden emotional distance between us made me want to freak out.
So I followed him around the store as he looked at the guitars without acknowledging my presence. Finally, done with being ignored, I caught his hand in mine and leaned in to him again.
I waited, anxious.
He turned to look at me, and as he studied me, a familiar heat began to creep into his eyes. “After this, we’re going back to my place.”
My breath grew suddenly shallow. “We are?”
“Yeah.” He leaned down to murmur in my ear, “I want you on your hands and knees.”
“My hands and knees,” I whispered. This was also becoming a familiar response to my emotional distance. Sex.
He pulled back and there was more than a hint of the devil in his eyes. I wondered if this was his way of punishing me for not opening up to him.
“Soaked . . . at least I have that from you.”
It was possible this was Cooper’s way of controlling a situation he had no control over. If he couldn’t have my secrets, he’d have my desire. And I was helpless against my passion for him.