The Dashing Doc Next Door

by Helen R. Myers

  “Cosmetics help,” he said, watching her closely, “but the jury is still out on what she’s like on the inside.”

  “Men like women with legs that go up to their armpits.”

  “Especially in Vegas,” Gage drawled. “But I can’t see how a physical asset would help in a struggling relationship. I do like her frankness, and she seems to have a good sense of humor.”

  “Since when do men care about a woman’s sense of humor?”

  “Always.” Gage smiled grimly. “Particularly when they’re in trouble—like now.”

  Brooke relaxed somewhat. “I want you to like my friend.”

  “I think I will. Only don’t hold it against me if I can’t help liking you more. Much more.”

  The moment was out of a movie scene set up where the woman was meant to go all soft and willing, and the guy, reassured, would move in for a sigh-winning, applause-worthy kiss. Instead, Brooke turned away and started fluffing up the pillows on the couch and then an armchair.

  “You just know me longer, that’s all,” she told him. “Give her a chance.”

  Gage couldn’t believe what he was hearing. After all of the tender and tempting moments they’d shared in the past week, he felt worse than let down. He felt...what? Betrayed? Used?

  “I think a better use of my time would be to get these boxes put together.” With that, Gage picked up the armful and went into the living room before he said something he would regret.

  * * *

  Some three hours later, the three of them sat in the breakfast nook finishing their lunch. Brooke had ordered Asian takeout from her favorite restaurant only blocks away. Having had enough of her sesame chicken, she sipped at her Chardonnay and watched Andi and Gage engaged in an animated conversation. She was certain that it was her imagination, but both of them seemed determined to prove something—to her—and it was making Brooke increasingly uncomfortable.

  “Why shouldn’t I have a dog?” Andi wasn’t just challenging Gage, she clicked her chopsticks together as though tempted to pluck something off him.

  “Because he—or she—can’t provide you with what you’re really looking for.” On the surface, he appeared all calm reason, only to stab his fork into a piece of broccoli with a bit too much relish. “Besides, you work too much. Ask Brooke about Humphrey. A dog needs attention, companionship and exercise. Unless you’re willing to invest that kind of time, you’re not going to get the pet you’re expecting.”

  Andi didn’t respond well to that. “For pity’s sake, it’s not like I’m talking about adopting a rescued greyhound from a racetrack that will be kenneled all day. I meant something small, a toy something that I can carry in my bag. They make black poodles in that size, don’t they?” Andi turned to Brooke, looking for affirmation as much as confirmation.

  “I hear the last place producing them refused to go union, so the employees walked off the job and the operation went bankrupt,” Gage drawled. “Now you have to order them from Guam, and you can only get them in white.”

  That bit of outlandishness had Brooke reaching for the bottle of wine. As she poured a little more into her glass, she thought perhaps she should have warned Gage that Andi saw contention like another dimension of foreplay. He wasn’t going to upset her; he was playing right into her hands.

  As though reading her mind, Andi said to Gage, a glint in her eye, “You’re getting annoyed with me.”

  “Not at all. Only you remind me of the woman who was eager to breed her young dachshund, and, considering its age, I asked if it had even gone into heat yet. She told me it had been curling up by the hot water heater since the first day she brought it home.”

  Just in case she was wrong in her estimation, Brooke eased the chopsticks out of Andi’s grasp.

  “Well, I think it would be adorable for me to enter clients’ homes toting a little poodle version of me,” Andi said to Brooke.

  Not daring to look at Gage, she replied, “No doubt about it.”

  “What will the homeowners say when they discover only one of you is housebroken?” he drawled.

  “Gage!” Brooke sent him a pleading look.

  As though she’d heard nothing, Andi continued. “We could wear matching nail polish and bling.”

  “Dogs aren’t fashion accessories.” Gage enunciated each word.

  Wondering how a pleasant hour could go so horribly wrong, Brooke snapped. “Enough, you two!” She said to Andi, “You’ll long turn heads whether you adopt a pet or not. The point is that you’ve never been any more drawn to animals than I have. Is adoption really right for you?”

  “What is?” Andi tossed back the last sip of her wine only to set the glass on the wooden table with a thud. “Okay, here’s the thing. After several dates since breaking up with he whose name will not be spoken, each guy has been worse than the next. Remember Must Love Dogs? Diane Lane’s website-generated applicants were princes compared to the characters that I’ve been paired with.”

  “I’m so sorry! Here, take my wine.” Brooke slid over her glass. Although she could have lived the rest of her life without Gage hearing this, she replied, “You’re way braver than I will ever be by doing that. I’ve seen the commercials, sure, but to actually go online? No way.”

  “Besides, think of what your father would say?” Gage asked, his expression benign.

  Not only did Brooke glare at him, Andi joined her.

  “Well, fear not,” Andi soon added. “I’ve given up the whole business, but look where that leaves me. You’re pulling up stakes. My Friday-night safety net!”

  Brooke shook her head, not buying into her angst out of sheer necessity. “I’ll be barely more than two hours away, not across state lines. By the way, during the week, don’t we mostly text anyway?”

  “But I live for our sleepovers.” Andi reached over to squeeze Brooke’s hand. “They’re like a weekend at a spa, without strangers judging your body.” She turned to Gage. “No doubt you’ve already grasped this, but this one is the best listener on the planet.”

  “Only because your stories are always far more entertaining than mine,” Brooke quickly assured her, afraid of what Gage might say.

  “Sadly, true.” Andi’s chuckle was short-lived when she added in all seriousness, “The fact is that you were fine-tuned by Daddy Dearest, who believed in the archaic notion that children should be seen, not heard, and you’ve yet to really escape that demoralizing indoctrination.’“

  “Thanks,” Brooke replied with a wry twist of her lips. “I love being called a robot.”

  “You know the financial world better than anyone I know. Probably as well as The Donald at your age—maybe even Warren Buffet. I just wish you’d be as confident about yourself.”

  As Brooke lowered her eyes, Gage offered to Andi, “As the minority voice on the subject of dating, might I suggest that your bad luck in love is relative to some people finding themselves unable to get pregnant?”

  The raven-haired Realtor smiled into his eyes. “Probably because my motto is do it well or not at all.” As mischief lit her sultry gray eyes, she all but pleaded, “Please tell me you at least have a twin?”

  “Sorry. I do have three brothers and two sisters, though.”

  Her interest sharpening, she straightened in her seat. “Any of them single? The brothers, I mean.”

  “Two. But you’ll never get them out of Montana.”

  Andi turned to Brooke, giving her a “You see? I have no luck” look. Pouring Brooke’s wine into her glass, she rose. “I’ll take this with me if you don’t mind. It’s time for me to return a few calls and otherwise get back to work, so you can get to yours.”

  As the back door closed behind her, Gage said to Brooke, “She’s definitely a live wire. I would never have guessed that you two could be such good friends.”

  Simultan
eously wondering if that could continue, and thinking she now knew what an abused tennis ball at Wimbledon felt like, Brooke could only reply, “You provoked her.”

  “Hit the rewind button, sweetheart. Only after she started it.”

  Since he was right, she could only defend her friend on merit. “Andi is more of an extrovert than I’ll ever be, but she has a big heart, and from the first, she protected me and my interests as I shopped for a house that would be a home as much as an investment. She’s become my best friend.”

  “I want to agree—especially when she referred to your father as Daddy Dearest.”

  “Your ears almost went to attention like Humphrey’s when she spoke of him.” With no leftovers to see to, Brooke stacked one container into the other and carried them to the trash. “Just don’t misunderstand. My father was never physically abusive.”

  “Okay, but what about emotionally?”

  The question had her struggling for an answer. “Not everyone is born the demonstrative type. That doesn’t make him a bad person.”

  Gage rose, too, and carried their plates and silverware to the sink. “And how often did you cry yourself to sleep? Not because he was busy, or because you were missing your mother?”

  She knew what he was asking, and his challenge made her feel as though she was having that awful naked-in-public dream; however, she couldn’t stay upset with him. She knew he was trying to understand and be supportive. But the need to keep some walls up seemed wisest, even if it would hurt him. “I’ll say it again, you should open a side business as an analyst, Doc.”

  “I’d go broke, my problem being an interest in only analyzing a certain individual.”

  Brooke added the empty wine bottle to the trash and, too, a fantasy. “I’m not sure I’m worth that much of your time.”

  “I disagree, but I wouldn’t expect a modest person like yourself to say anything else.” He came to her and took hold of her arms, forcing her to meet his somber scrutiny. “Let’s just get one thing cleared up. Stop trying to hook me up with your friend.”

  “Groan and blush,” she said, lowering her gaze. “I’m embarrassed enough without hearing how easily you saw through what I’d attempted.”

  “Failure was inevitable, since your heart disagrees with your head.”

  It felt so natural and right to be standing like this that Brooke didn’t realize she was stroking his chest until he covered her hand with his and stayed it so she could feel the powerful rhythm of his heartbeat. That drew her gaze to meet his.

  Brooke forgot about where they were and that Andi was only beyond a door or wall. She was transported to the other night when they’d sat together and all had seemed safe and right with the world. “This is such a mistake,” she said, helplessly focusing on his mouth.

  “Let me prove otherwise.”

  As he lowered his head, Brooke felt her body react as though someone tripped a switch. The mere brush of his lips—incredibly tender yet coaxing—made her feel both cherished and desired. When she yielded to invite more, he didn’t disappoint, soon kissing her in a way that had her uttering a soft sound of yearning and wrapping her arms around his neck.

  “This is the woman I’ve seen watching me,” he said against her lips.

  He initiated another kiss, lifting her off her feet as he drew her tightly against him to align their bodies. Brooke could feel her nipples harden to sharp points against his chest, and his growing arousal between her thighs. After concluding that she was a woman of limited passion and sensuality, it was as thrilling as it was startling to realize there was someone who could bring her this high this fast that she couldn’t voice any cohesive thought.

  “I wish we were alone, so I could really kiss you.”

  The shiver that rushed through her body was all about the assurance that there could be more, that his kisses could get any better. As much as she wanted that, Brooke made herself push against his shoulders until he set her back on his feet. “Andi,” she said simply.

  With a sigh, Gage allowed, “Yeah, I know. Sorry.” He looked as thrown as she was.

  “It’s not like I don’t want this, too.” Seeing her lip gloss on his mouth, she quickly wiped it away with her thumb.

  “It’s about time.” The smoldering look he gave her made Brooke feel as though she was a heartbeat away from being in his arms again. “For such a small slip of a woman, you have annoyingly strong willpower.”

  Not anymore she didn’t. Not where he was concerned, and when he reached out to brush his thumb over her taut nipple, exposed due to her thin T-shirt and sheerer bra, she moaned and crossed her arms over herself. “Please. I have to go outside and talk to Andi.”

  “If she tries to talk you into anything kinky, try to remember that I’m a one-woman man.”

  Unable to suppress it, Brooke burst out laughing. “And bad.”

  Minutes later, when Brooke got outside, Andi wasn’t where she’d last seen her. That wasn’t unwelcome news. Still feeling her lips tingling from Gage’s kisses, she suspected they remained a bit red and swollen, as well. Buying herself another minute or two, she went to check the mailbox, even though she’d had her mail transferred to Sweet Springs. Finding it as empty as it should be, she headed to the back of the house.

  “I was about to come ask you if all of this garden sculpture stays,” Andi said, taking a photo of the man-size tiered concrete fountain tucked in the corner where the kitchen nook’s bay window looked out over the backyard. “It’s not on your list.”

  Brooke’s felt a wave of relief knowing that if Andi had been any quicker in her work, she would have witnessed way more than was helpful.

  “I’d only gotten around to inside things so far,” Brooke replied. “But, yes, everything was bought to fit this landscape. It would be aesthetically wrong to remove it.”

  Andi nodded her approval. “You’re going to make someone very happy, and my job easier yet. This will definitely be a move-in-ready property, both indoors and out.”

  “Well, even though I never expected this moment, you taught me what it takes to get a fast offer,” Brooke reminded her. “And a quick sale will, hopefully, make this less painful.”

  As she focused on her notes, Andi asked, “Will you buy something in East Texas? You do have to think of some kind of reinvestment to avoid getting hit with taxes.”

  Oh, God, Brooke thought. She just hoped that Gage wasn’t watching. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. It’s not like I need another house to maintain, and all signs are such that Aunt Marsha may never be able to resume residence in her own home. At least not without live-in help.”

  “Then there’s Gage’s house next door,” Andi said, bringing matters closer to the real subject. “He said you haven’t seen it yet? You’d better go have a look. You need to find out if it’s a single-guy nightmare or a king’s castle awaiting the right queen. Even at that, it will need some feminine touches.”

  Brooke gave up and blurted, “Andi, seriously, that’s the least thing I—”

  “Uh-uh!” Andi held up one perfectly manicured finger to silence her. “Don’t even try to go there. We’re friends, correct? I am well familiar with your ladylike ways and how you try to do no harm. I know you.”

  “I honestly did mean for you two to meet.”

  “I believe that. Just as I believe that while you didn’t want to have feelings for someone, you’d planned—may still be planning—to say goodbye to soon, that’s exactly what’s happened.” Andi shook her magnificent raven mane behind her shoulders. “And face it—he’s half besotted with you. Don’t think I don’t wish otherwise. Believe me, I was ready to give him my business card in the hopes that he would find some time to race down the interstate and address my issues.”

  Knowing better than to insult her friend’s intelligence with any more denials, Brooke reach
ed for her. “I’m sick over this. I didn’t go looking for it, and it’s a complication that I don’t need.”

  “Oh, shut it,” Andi scoffed good-naturedly, as she hugged her back. “He’s all man in that classical-cowboy sort of way. He knows who he is. How often do you run across someone so balanced? Don’t blow this, which you could, since you’ve never been one to compartmentalize. You gave those bloodsucker employers of yours your undivided attention. Granted, that probably saved you from marrying a clueless jerk, but now you’re giving your aunt and her business that same devoted focus. Let me tell you, Gage is no Parker, and he’ll demand you change your ways. He wants his share of those soulful, melt-your-heart, brown-eyed gazes, and you’d better give them to him.”

  Andi checked her latest picture and then pocketed her phone. “I’m done. Time for me to head to the office to start on the paperwork. You’ll probably be back in Sweet Springs before I get everything set. I’ll fax everything you need to sign tomorrow.” Suddenly stopping midway to her car, she announced, “We haven’t even talked a price yet.”

  At that moment, Brooke was torn between laughter and tears. “You’re the expert. I trust you.”

  * * *

  “Are you sure?”

  It was nearly seven-thirty in the evening when Brooke came into the study to tell Gage that they should call it a day. While his back was getting stiff from packing and stacking boxes of books and his stomach had begun to growl from hunger, he knew—finished or not—they had to head back to Sweet Springs tomorrow, and there were still things to do. At this point, that’s all he wanted to focus on.

  “Let me get these last two boxes done. Then how about I get your kitchen packed?” he asked. “I’ve checked it out, and it won’t take me another hour. You have the emptiest set of cupboards that I’ve ever seen outside of a model home. I know you don’t cook for yourself, but what? No dinner parties? Not even catered?”

  “Not here.” She shrugged. “Most of my clients are men, and not all of them are married. Those who are don’t always bring their wives to a dinner meeting. To avoid complications, it’s best to hold dinners elsewhere. The same with private parties. I just didn’t have the time to spend in the kitchen.”