by T. I. Lowe
Sophia tried conjuring up a believable laugh, but it creaked like a rusty gate. “Well, highly publicized scandals have been proven to be the most effective diet program out there. Especially when you mix in adultery and domestic abuse. It’s all the rage right now.” She looked over, thinking she’d find a smirk on his face, but he remained fixed in seriousness.
Wes placed his warm hand on her chilled arm, and his thumb began drawing a comforting circle on her wrist. “Sophia—”
She dropped her gaze to the sand as tears began to well up again. “I . . . My stomach hurts all the time ever since . . . Eating isn’t appealing.”
“Describe the pain,” Wes said, easily slipping into doctor mode.
She moved her free hand to her chest and pressed her palm there. “It’s an ache that sits right here.” Her hand moved to rest on her concave belly. “And it escalates here.”
Sympathy crossed his face as Wes slowly nodded. “I’m an expert on that type of pain. And I know a few remedies. We’ll work on it.”
“Wes, I don’t want your pity any more than you want mine.”
He pushed out another sigh and followed it with a slower nod. “We’ll also work on not pitying each other, okay?”
Sophia agreed, even though she didn’t have much confidence in finding a way to alleviate the pain, short of a rewind button to take her back to when her marriage was glorious, her career successful, and her baby boy happy.
8
Weston Sawyer had always prided himself on making sound decisions with levelheaded logic, but he was beginning to think Sunset Cove was dumbing him down somehow. Was it too many carbs? Fried seafood? Was the salt water slipping into his drinking water?
No, he wasn’t that dumb. He knew the blame was on Sophia Prescott. The agreement on the beach about working together and the dating scheme had seemed like a win-win, but once he arrived home, the prospect of spending a large amount of time with her hit him like a ton of bricks. He hadn’t taken that into consideration. The feisty brunette was annoying at best, and he had come to crave his solitude.
Perhaps Doc had a point about him always going off with his pistol half-cocked, because he certainly hadn’t thought this proposal all the way through. Now, on the way to work, his mind wouldn’t settle on a solution for his idiocy. The only idea that was even reasonable was figuring out how to have her work part-time. Sure, he would have to handle some of the paperwork himself, but Agnes already had him doing a chunk of it now.
“What have I done?” Wes mumbled as he pulled into the parking lot and found Sophia’s silver SUV in his spot. The one extravagant request he had when agreeing to take over the practice was that a reserved spot would be appointed in the back lot, so his BMW sports coupe would be safely tucked away from any dangers of dents and dings.
Agnes had clucked her tongue at his request and called it frivolous until Doc warned her off. Afterward, she went out of her way to make it happen, going as far as having signs made to let people know the lot was private. Another sign with his name on it was posted in front of his parking space.
Evidently Doc had filled her in on why the car was so precious to him. Claire had presented it to him the day he and his team of researchers had a breakthrough in an experimental treatment. Hours upon hours of work had gone into it. His team worked assiduously to keep their patients alive, so it was a day to celebrate when a four-year-old’s scan came back clean after the last-resort treatment had been completed.
It was the last gift she was ever to give him.
A horn beeped behind him. Wes blinked back to the less appealing present, noticing he’d stopped in the middle of the driveway. The nurse was waiting to pull in. He offered a rueful wave and drove over to the offending SUV, parking directly behind it to block her in and make a point.
Wes let himself in through the side door and prepared a speech to inform Miss Priss about how things were going to work around his office. He just knew the two women were meeting early to share a good ole laugh at his expense. He’d set the both of them straight.
Voices floated down the hallway from Agnes’s office. “. . . appreciate what you were trying to do for me, but that was no way to treat Dr. Sawyer.”
His stride slowed. Sophia was in there taking up for him. He pressed a palm to the wall to help steady his composure. He’d been alone in this battle of life for the past three and a half years, maneuvering it with the sole purpose to just survive. His family begged to be on his team and to be there through the rougher patches of grief, but Wes refused. The place he dwelled after losing Claire and Luke was desolate, something he didn’t want anyone he loved to experience. The woman on the other side of the wall was experienced in bleakness, but he wasn’t sure about wanting her on his team.
“I didn’t mean anything by it, sugar. I just thought the stubborn man could use some hard love to get him to see the error of his ways.”
“I think Wes has lived enough hard to last a lifetime. I know your heart was in the right place, but we’ve used enough vinegar with the poor guy. How about using some honey?”
Agnes cackled. “Now you sound like Doc!”
Appreciative yet baffled, Wes pushed off the wall and knocked on Agnes’s partially open door before popping his head in. “Good morning, ladies,” he greeted quietly, glancing at Agnes behind her desk and then at Sophia, who had a chair pulled up beside the older lady’s. “Sophia, may I have a word with you in my office?”
“Okay.” She seemed unsure but stood and followed him.
Wes gestured toward the small table tucked in the corner of the room. “Have a seat.” He dropped his briefcase by the desk and then carried a small cooler bag over and handed it to her.
Sophia peeked inside. “What’s this?” She looked up at Wes with her dainty eyebrows pinched together.
Wes settled in the seat opposite her. “It’s breakfast.”
Hesitantly, she pulled a blue bottle out and read the label out loud. “PediaSure Grow & Gain?”
“It tastes better than the adult version,” Wes said, but she made no move to drink it. He took another bottle out of the bag, removed the cap, and took a generous sip. “Days when I don’t have an appetite but know I need fuel, I’ll drink the adult version of these.”
A small smile played around her lips. “You’re doctoring me.”
“I don’t know any other way, so you’ll have to humor me.” He pointed to her bottle and was relieved when she drank it. “You look nice today,” he commented, surprising them both.
Sophia straightened the collar of her suit jacket and murmured, “Thank you. I was going for business casual. Is this appropriate attire?”
Wes gave the gray pantsuit she’d paired with a coral blouse an admiring perusal. It was tailored and stylish, yet slightly too big on her frail frame, but they were going to work on that. “Agnes wears tracksuits most days, so don’t fret over fashion.” He leaned closer and whispered, “I much prefer your style over hers. It’s classic and very much appropriate . . . but don’t tell her I said that.”
Sophia smiled, a blush warming her face. “Okay. I won’t say a word.”
“Good. Now, I’d like to discuss your schedule before giving you back to Agnes . . .”
Ten minutes later, Sophia’s face was still flushed but for much different reasons. She stood by the door with the knob in her grip. “I refuse.”
“I’m the boss, or have you already forgotten?” He straightened his tie and rotated his jaw, but it did nothing to alleviate some of the tension.
“I’m not a superhero. No way can I do all the responsibilities of an office manager only three days a week. I’m working five, and that’s that!”
“Well, our first date is Thursday night. You better be ready by six, and I don’t want to hear any lip about it.” He jabbed a finger at the fuming spitfire. There, I told her.
“Fine!” Sophia slammed the door behind her, making his wall calendar lose its grip on the hook and fall to the floor.
C
ontrol. All he needed was some control.
Yanking his suit jacket off and trading it for his lab coat, he resigned himself to the fact that it wasn’t happening in this case. Surely he could formulate a way they could fake date without actually seeing each other . . .
Wes scoffed at his own stupidity and hurried to the front to start the day.
•••
The week slid by virtually pain-free. Much to Wes’s relief, Agnes and Sophia mostly stayed out of sight. The only time they spent together was first thing in the morning when Wes called Sophia into his office and presented her a cooler bag with the addition of a protein bar or fresh fruit to go along with the PediaSure. Surprisingly she would return the bag each day empty and tell him she could feed herself, but it didn’t deter him from packing it. That was a challenge he found quite rewarding, but the one facing him at the moment was making it hard for him to swallow.
Standing outside Sophia’s condo, he pulled in a deep breath that was seasoned with fresh-cut grass and some type of flower. Taking a few more in and out, he raised his knuckles to knock, but the door flew open before he managed to follow through.
“Oh, good! You’re on time.” Sophia shut the door and hurried past him. “Let’s get this over with.”
He watched her retreating figure wrapped in a long flowy dress that was similar to the one she’d worn at the party a couple of weeks ago. But this one had so many blue tones it reminded him of a tropical waterfall. With his eyes riveted to the ribbons of blue swishing around from her clipped pace, Wes followed. Please be in a good mood.
Wes rushed to open Sophia’s door, tucked her inside, and then rounded the front of the car to get in. He glanced over as he started the car. She sat woodenly, staring straight ahead. If the woman didn’t loosen up, no one was going to buy their dating act.
Bravely he reached over and tucked a thick lock of hair behind her ear but quickly moved his hand back to his side of the car. “You look lovely, Sophia.”
Sophia shot him a jaded look he wasn’t expecting to receive. “You don’t have to woo me. A deal is a deal.”
“I’m not trying to woo you. I was just simply stating the truth.”
She twirled her fingers in an onward motion, acting as though he hadn’t spoken. “I need to be home within two hours to tuck Collin into bed.”
Keeping his comments to himself, Wes drove them over to Sunset Seafood House. It was one of the most popular restaurants in Sunset Cove, which meant plenty of eyes to catch their date. Sophia had voiced her concerns that morning about not being comfortable with lying, but he promised they would do no such thing. All they would do was make public appearances together and allow the townspeople to form their own misguided opinions.
After they were seated and their orders taken, Wes tried to come up with something to say. Small talk was not his forte, but he’d witnessed the feisty brunette manage it with a graceful ease all week at the office. Sure wish she’d take the lead now . . .
He shifted in his seat and adjusted his tie as he watched Sophia rearrange the salt and pepper shakers. When she seemed content with their placement, she did the same with the bottles of cocktail sauce and tartar sauce.
“How are you settling into the position this week?” Wes asked when she finally stopped fiddling with the condiments.
“Fine.” Sophia looked to her left and offered a small wave.
Wes glanced over and found a young mother with four familiar children, recalling her slipping him her number on Tuesday. He nodded in greeting, then turned back to Sophia. He sure hoped after these public appearances with her the surfeit of unwanted advances would come to an end.
Taking a deep breath, he chose to do something he hardly ever did anymore. After practicing the delivery a few times in his head, he leaned closer and whispered, “Doc says that lady over there keeps giving the milk out for free, so none of the men want to buy the cow.”
Sophia’s eyes widened and her mouth popped open, and Wes felt a little smug about catching her off guard. He had a pretty good idea that wasn’t easily done. She tilted her head back and laughed with not only her mouth but her entire body. It was rich and alluring and Wes could have sworn the exquisite sound alone caused the room to tilt.
“Oh. My. Word. I can’t believe something like that just came out of your proper mouth,” Sophia said around another chuckle. She dabbed the corners of her eyes with her napkin and caught him staring. “What?”
Left off-kilter by her warm reaction, Wes mumbled, “Sophia Grace, you should spend all of your time doing nothing but laughing.” He shook his head and leaned closer at the same time she did. “That beautiful sound could be bottled up and sold as a cure for any ailment.”
Both shocked by his admission, they quickly sat back and looked anywhere but at each other. Great, Wes. Way to ruin loosening up a tightly wound woman. He’d rambled off one of Doc’s silly sayings for nothing.
During the remainder of their first fake date, Wes ate his seared scallops and watched Sophia poke at hers without eating much. They made polite conversation, mostly centering around Collin, and by the time they returned to the condo, Wes found himself asking for something he had no business asking for.
At Sophia’s door, Wes placed a hand on her shoulder before she got away. “May I please say good night to Collin?”
Sophia’s brow furrowed and her eyes swept around as if she were searching for an escape. “Uh, okay.” She led him inside. The place was cozy, but it didn’t look like a style she would have chosen. It was homey; she seemed to lean more toward modern, if her tailored suits and fancy SUV were any indication.
A woman with the same Italian features as Sophia came hurrying down the hall. “Oh, honey, you’re already back so soon?”
“Yes, ma’am. Momma, this is Dr. Sawyer.” Sophia flicked her wrist and swatted toward him like an afterthought.
Wes offered his hand. “Weston, but please call me Wes. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Luciana, but please call me Lucy.” She winked a blue eye that was a few shades darker than her daughter’s tropical hue.
“Is Collin already asleep?” Sophia asked with more optimism than Wes cared for.
“No, we just finished up his bath and now he’s playing in his room,” Lucy answered while looking between Wes and Sophia.
“May I?” Wes motioned down the hall.
“Uh, sure. First door on the left.” Sophia gave him a small smile.
Wes headed that way and peeked inside the room to find Collin looking in the closet. Closing it with a sigh of frustration, the little boy turned and eyed the other side of the room. His tiny frame was clothed in race car pajamas and the shirt had ridden up to show off his cute belly button. Without noticing Wes standing by the door, Collin yanked the hem down and moved over to his toddler bed, which was dressed in a football-theme cover set. Dropping to his hands and knees, he crawled around the edge, peering underneath.
“What are you looking for, buddy?” Wes asked, taking cautious steps inside the room to avoid the toy cars and brightly colored building blocks that were scattered everywhere.
Collin turned and sat down with a sturdy grunt, sounding like an old man. He leaned back against the side of his bed and looked up at Wes with the saddest eyes. “My daddy’s footbaw. I lose it. I lose my daddy too. Him gone-gone.”
Wes could hardly swallow. Yeah. And I lost my son. He sat beside the little guy and focused on the bookshelf across from them.
Collin rested his head against Wes’s arm. “I wan’ my daddy.”
I want my son.
They sat in silence for a while with Wes combing his fingers through Collin’s slightly damp curls. The smell of baby shampoo was painfully sweet.
“Do you want me to read you a book?” Wes asked, wishing to take Collin’s pain away for at least a short spell. He knew there was no permanent fix for missing someone, though.
Collin sighed. “I wanna pay caws wiff you.”
Wes ruffled his hair one
last time and chuckled quietly at how somber the child sounded with his request. “Okay. We can play cars for a little while.”
As they revved motors and crawled around the floor, Wes had to diligently suppress the anguish clawing at the back of his throat. He should have been granted the gift of doing this with his own son. Instead, his baby boy was in a casket with his momma.
After Collin grew bored with the cars, he selected a book off the shelf and handed it to Wes. “Pease?”
Unable to tell the toddler no, he settled back on the floor by the bed and read Collin the story of Jonah and the whale. By the time he’d gotten to the end, where Jonah finally understood that everyone was worth God’s compassion, the sweet smell of baby shampoo was trumped by another odor.
“Poo, I poo-pooed.” Collin looked up and scrunched his tiny nose.
“Buddy, if you’re old enough to tell me what you did, then you’re old enough to be doing that business in the toilet.”
“I wan’ it off me. You change my heinie?” Collin stared at him with all seriousness.
“No sir.” Wes stood and hollered for Sophia.
Not even a minute later they were in the midst of a standoff.
“You’re the one who found it. The rule is that you’re the one to clean it.” Wes saw the amusement twinkling through the starbursts of her vivid blue eyes.
“In all fairness, I’ve never been informed of this rule.” Wes held the little guy by his armpits as far away from him as possible while trying to persuade Sophia into taking him. Each step he took forward, she matched it with one step back. “I admit I found an odor. I’ll spray the air with something. Here.” He pushed the squirming child closer with both Sophia and her mother laughing at him.
“I wan’ it off, Poo. Pease!” Collin whined between them where he was dangling, cracking the adults up.
After Sophia teased Wes several more rounds, she took the stinky toddler off his hands. Wes bid them good night. Even though the odor was a foul one, at least the night ended on a sweeter note than he’d expected.
