Lynne Marshall - A Doctor for Keeps

She looked around the large, homey porch and inhaled the night air, even detected a hint of that jasmine from the side of the house. She twitched her nose. Something about this old house calmed her down, as if it had reached inside and said, Hey, you might just belong here. This is where your mother grew up; these rooms, scents, colors, textures and sounds are your roots.

Soles scuffing up the walkway averted her attention from her thoughts. Her gaze darted to the tall blond man from the bland house next door—the overprotective father with some sort of grudge—Kent.

An unnatural expression smacking of chagrin eclipsed his handsome face. It lowered his brows and projected caution from those heavy-lidded eyes. The sight of him set off a pop of tension in her palms.

He cleared his throat, and she closed the magazine. “Nice night, huh?”

One corner of her mouth twitched with amusement over his awkward opening. “Seems kind of cold to me.”

“That’s Oregon for you.”

She smiled, deciding to toss the poor man a lifeline. “Is it?” When was the last time he’d talked socially with a woman?

“Yup. Unpredictable, except for rain.” He came closer to the porch but not all the way up, one foot two steps higher than the other. He put his palms on his knee and leaned on them, an earnest expression humbling his drop-dead looks. “Listen, I want to apologize in case I came off cranky this afternoon.”

She sputtered a laugh. “Cranky? My grandmother might get cranky, but you, well, you seemed bothered. Yeah, that’s the word—bothered.”

He scratched one of those lowered brows. “Sorry.”

“I was just being nice to your son, not planning on snatching him. Making him feel good about his progress, that’s all.”

“Yeah, and he couldn’t stop talking about what a great teacher you are when we got home, too.”

She smiled and magnanimously nodded her head. Yes, I am a good piano teacher, thank you very much. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Not hardly.”

As he got closer, the tension in her palms spread to her shoulders, and she needed to stretch. Couldn’t help it.

He watched with interest. “So anyway,” he said, “this time every June we have this thing called the Summer Solstice Scandinavian Festival. Maybe your grandmother already told you about it?”

She shook her head.

“But as mayor pro tem she starts off the parade,” he said.

“She hasn’t said a word about it to me.”

Gerda hadn’t been feeling well tonight, and she’d seemed distracted after a hushed phone conversation. During dinner, Desi had talked about the piano students, even though a big question loomed in her mind. Why couldn’t you and Mom ever patch things up?

“Really?” He seemed surprised.

During dinner, Desi couldn’t bring herself to broach the subject about how bad their mother-daughter relationship must have been. Still, every indication—from the way her grandmother had opened the home to her to the way Desi caught her sneaking loving looks at her—suggested she was wanted. Yet that feeling of not belonging prevailed, along with the thought that Gerda was simply doing her duty out of guilt.

She shook her head at Kent. “The subject of an annual festival never came up.”

“Well, the thing is, Steven would really like you to go with us to the parade and festival on Saturday.”

Desi liked seeing the big man so completely out of his comfort zone and sat straighter. “So he sent you over to ask me out?”

Finally, a smile. Well, half of a smile. “Not exactly.”

“He doesn’t know you’re asking, and you’d rather die than ask a tall, dark stranger to come along, so you snuck over behind his back to ask me to say no?”

The look he shot her seemed to ask, Are you a mind reader? Or she could be reading into it, just a wee bit.

“Not it at all. And, man, you’ve got quite an imagination.” So much for her theory. He shook his head with slow intent. “I was thinking more that you’d rather pull weeds than be stuck with me for an afternoon. But Steven... He’s a kick. He wants to spend his allowance on you.”

She tilted her head, charmed by her young absentee suitor. “Not every day a male wants to spend his allowance on me. How can I refuse?”

Kent scratched the corner of his mouth. “You were right—I didn’t tell him I was asking you in case you didn’t want to come with us.”

“How thoughtful of you, protecting Steven.” Maybe he wasn’t as bad as the vibes he gave off. “And thanks for giving me an out...but I’d like to go.” Sorry to disappoint.

Surprise opened his eyes wide. His sexy bedroom eyes—there were no other words for them. The sight of them did something deep in her belly, making her sit up and take notice. “I’m starting to feel a little cooped up in this big old house already, and I’d like to see the rest of the town.” See what my mother ran away from.

His quick smile died before it reached his cheeks. “Before you take off again?”

“That’s not what I meant.” She didn’t have time to analyze what stick had been surgically implanted into Kent Larson’s spine, or why he was giving her such a hard time about coming and going as she pleased, so she ignored him. She’d stay in Heartlandia as long as she wanted or needed, and she didn’t need his permission to leave when she was ready. “I meant, I’m looking forward to spending more time with Steven and seeing more of Heartlandia. And you can tell him I said yes.”

“Good. That’s good.” He sounded hesitant. “Steven will be excited.”

And what about you? She’d been around the country a few dozen times, but she wasn’t bold enough to ask. Was her crazy physical reaction every time he came around by any chance mutual?

Did this Viking from the bland house next door have any soul? Any passion? He seemed to be bound by courtesy and what was expected of him. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something must have happened to make those invisible walls so high. Yet Steven was as lovable and huggable as a soft teddy bear.

At least Kent hadn’t spoiled the boy with his standoffish attitude. Yet.

With his mission accomplished, and without further words, Kent had already turned to leave.

“Tell Steven I’m really looking forward to going, okay?”

He tossed a thoughtful gaze back at her, took her in with a leisurely tour of her entire body. It was the first sign of life she’d seen in him since the night they’d met in the dark, giving her the inkling that maybe her physical response to him was reciprocated.

A subtle shiver rolled through her, and she clutched the shawl tighter and closer to her neck.

“I’ll do that,” he said. “We’ll pick you up on Saturday morning around ten.” And off he went, almost smiling, down the steps and toward the dark path home.

“Got it,” she said softly, grateful the boy would be along to ward off the unexplainable reaction she had to the big guy with the aloof attitude.

* * *

Saturday morning was cool and damp, and Desi pulled her hair tightly back into a bun and covered it with a knit cap, careful not to catch her huge hoop earrings. She zipped her thin hoodie to the neck and did the final is my butt too big in these jeans? check via the full-length mirror. The doorbell rang and she stopped obsessing over what nature had given her and hustled out the bedroom door.

Gerda had answered the door already, and Steven and Kent hung back just outside on the porch, talking quietly.

“Oh, good, you’re ready,” Gerda said when Desi appeared at the top of the stairs. “I’ve got to go. Need to be there a half hour before the parade starts.”

Desi rushed down the steps. “Don’t let me hold you up.”