Amy Ruttan - His Shock Valentine's Proposal

Esme sighed. “Are you going to start on me about stealing your patients again?”

“No. I’m not. Honestly, I’m glad that she’s headed over to you. You seem to have more of a grasp of cardio-thoracic care.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

Oh, God. Had he found out?

“Who told you that?”

“I saw it with my own eyes, Esme. Only someone with cardio-thoracic knowledge would be able to perform that procedure in that kind of situation. I think you’ve done that more than once or even a couple of times.”

He was really persisting about the procedure. He was digging for information, information she didn’t want to share. Information she wasn’t going to share. It was in her past. She was here to start a new life. She wasn’t that person any longer.

“I must have really impressed you.”

“Well … yes.” And he looked away quickly, rubbing the back of his neck again, as if he was embarrassed. As if he didn’t want to give her a compliment.

“It was nothing. Now, about Mrs. Fenolio …”

“She’s your patient now and you’re the expert.”

“I’m not. Not really.”

Liar.

“Besides, she’s only moved over her cardio care to me. How long has she had that murmur?”

“Do you really want to talk about this in a grocery store?” Carson asked as he picked up a loaf of bread and plunked it into her cart.

“Since when am I buying you groceries?” Esme teased.

“It’s my fee for taking you back to Crater Lake. You can buy me my sandwiches for a week.”

Esme chuckled. “I’m so disappointed.”

“Why?”

“You’re a sandwich man.”

“What’s wrong with liking sandwiches?” he asked.

“Nothing per se, but I’m a bit of a foodie.”

Carson snorted. “Right, I forgot you’re from Los Angeles.”

“You don’t have to be from LA to be a foodie. You can be from small towns, too. Not that I expect many people from Crater Lake to have many options.”

“What’re you talking about?” he asked.

“Oh, come on. Ray’s is a fantastic Mom and Pop shop, but it’s hardly gourmet.”

“We have gourmet in Crater Lake,” he said, sounding mildly insulted.

Esme looked skeptical. “Do you?”

“We do, but it’s a bit of a secret.”

“A secret?”

“Would you be interested in sampling a dinner there? I mean, since you’re such a gourmand.”

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