Misters of Love: A Small Town Romance Boxset

by Piper Sullivan

  “You’re a good mom.”

  She shook her head. “You can’t possibly know that, and you sure didn’t think so when Callie came into your ER.”

  I felt my cheeks heat at her reminder of my behavior.

  “That’s a job hazard. You’d be surprised at just how creative abusive parents can be when it comes to seeking treatment. I find it’s better to piss off the parents than risk the child’s safety.”

  She looked at me with something like respect in her eyes, and it felt almost as good as the heat in her gaze when she looked at me. Almost. “In that case, your behavior is forgiven.”

  Unlike most women who gave in so easily, I actually believed Maxine. “Thank you, but I am sorry. I may not know you well, but I know you well enough to know you’re a good mom.”

  “How?” she asked, a challenge in her tone.

  “Because you light up when you talk about her. You don’t act like she’s a burden or an obligation. Like I said, I see a lot of parents in my line of work.”

  “Why aren’t you married?”

  “I haven’t found a woman I wanted to ask to marry me yet. Why aren’t you?” I immediately wanted to kick myself, but she waved off my attempt at an apology.

  “I was, and he was a big mistake—at least, his dick was.”

  That told me something about her and her cynical view on relationships, but not enough. “And he soured you on love completely?” Or maybe she’d loved him so much that the idea of loving and losing again was too much for her?

  “Not completely, but he taught me about warning signs I should never ignore. Ever.”

  Now, we were getting somewhere. “Such as a handsome unmarried doctor?”

  She gave a short nod. “With a seeming disdain of commitment.”

  And there it was. “You think I’m a cheater? Like your ex?” It couldn’t be that, but there was a sudden blandness in her tone that said she believed something along those lines. “Do you?”

  “No,” she finally admitted. “You’d have to actually commit to a woman in order to be faithful. Or unfaithful.”

  “So, you’re not just cynical, you’re bitter, too.”

  She gasped, offended, but there was a fire in her eyes that got my own blood boiling. “Bitter? It makes me bitter to call things how I see them?”

  I smiled and got comfortable, ready to rile her up. “And what have you seen to make you think I’m afraid of commitment or fidelity?” The matchmakers, at least, seemed to see that I wasn’t running from love or commitment. I just hadn’t found a woman who made me want to slow down. Yet. “I’m waiting, Maxine.”

  Heat flared in her blue eyes at my tone, and I tucked that piece of information away for later. “You haven’t been in a relationship since you’ve been back, and I’m sure you’ve had offers.”

  “Because I’m so handsome?”

  That seemed to tease a small grin from her lush lips.

  “And a doctor,” she added, just to take me down a peg. Not that I needed it, but coming from her, I appreciated it.

  “You’re gorgeous and you own your own business, but you’ve also been single since you came back.”

  She sighed. “Divorced, remember?”

  “I wasn’t single the whole time I was gone. Had a relationship and it didn’t work out, then I worked like a madman during my residency. And running the ER keeps me busy.” I arched a brow at her, ready to smack down another excuse.

  “Okay, so none of the women have been up to your standards?”

  “Not exactly. You’ve dated since your divorce, right?”

  She arched a brow but nodded. Slowly.

  “Then you understand that some people are perfectly nice. Attractive and mildly entertaining, but something’s missing. And without that thing, you’d rather work, hang out with your friends, binge-watch Netflix, or anything else, but never call to see them or just to hear their voice. Know what I mean?”

  Inside her blue eyes, a storm brewed, and I felt my chest start to puff out in victory. Nothing was ever as cut and dried as it seemed—it was something you learned quickly in emergency medicine, to dig deeper and to do it quickly. Efficiently. Finally, she nodded. “I do. They’re nice, but not for you.”

  “Exactly.” I smiled and her lips curved up in return, a hard-won moment of understanding between us. “I don’t want to waste my time on someone I’m not dying to see when I get off work.” And the more time I spent with Maxine, the more I wanted to spend with her.

  “I understand, and—”

  “Dr. Cahill—I mean, Derek—I thought that was you.”

  I turned at the unfamiliar voice and frowned when I spotted Sarah Stern. “Mrs. Stern, how is Charles doing?”

  “Excellent, thanks to you.” She grinned and slid her gaze to Maxine before turning back to me. “So, it’s been a while.”

  “That’s a good thing. I hope that we never have to see each other again.” At my words, Sarah frowned, and Maxine hid a laugh behind a cough. “I mean, I hope Charles doesn’t have any other health problems.” The man ate steak three times a day and considered video game golfing intense exercise.

  She stepped in with a smile filled with intent and I leaned back to put more distance between us. “I hope it’s not the last time we see each other.”

  I reached for my beer and found it empty. Perfect. “Max, how about we order another round?”

  She arched a knowing brow at me, as if she knew exactly what I was doing, and I released a grateful smile when she nodded. “I’d love one. Make it a double since, we’re walking home. Right?”

  “Door-to-door service,” I assured her with a smile, enjoying the flare of heat in her eyes when I pitched my voice a little lower. “As promised.”

  “Well,” Sarah huffed, “I see you’re busy. Hope to see you soon, Derek.” She did a cutesy finger wave that only little girls should do and walked off.

  “That was strange.”

  “Was it?” Maxine leaned in across the table, allowing me to see strands of silver in her blue eyes. “Do you often get hit on by patients?”

  “She wasn’t a patient, her husband was. Came in with a heart attack and I was on duty. That’s all.”

  Maxine snorted. “She was practically throwing her cookie at you, Derek.”

  “Cookie?” That was a new one I’d never heard before. “Elaborate, please.”

  “Oh, come on. She was all oh, Dr. Cahill.” She flicked her long red waves behind her shoulder and spoke in a high-pitched voice as she pushed her chest out. “I mean, Derek.” She batted her eyelashes and leaned in further.

  “She’s overly friendly, but I keep it professional. Always.” While I didn’t think she was questioning my integrity, I understood the betrayal of infidelity left its mark. “Besides, what in the hell would I want with a woman who’d so easily cheat on her husband?”

  That seemed to satisfy her, and she sat back with a heavy sigh. “You’re right, Derek. I owe you an apology. You are nothing like my no-good ex. You’re a decent guy.”

  I barked out a laugh as the waitress came and dropped off the bill. “You don’t have to sound so upset about it.”

  “I’m not upset. Okay,” she conceded a beat later, “maybe I am a little.”

  Because she didn’t want to like me. But she did. “Well, as long as you know that I’m nothing like that idiot.”

  Her smile shy and to see a strong woman like her look so vulnerable, it released something primal within me. “How do you know he’s an idiot?”

  “Because he had you and wanted something else. What else is there?”

  She smiled and her cheeks pinkened even as she rolled her eyes, pretending she didn’t appreciate the compliment. “Cheesy.”

  “Maybe, but cheesy things can also be true, Maxine.” I stood and held a hand out to her, noticing she wobbled just a little.

  “We’re back to Maxine? What happened to Max?” She let out a husky laugh and her whiskey-and-barbecue-sauce breath fanned over me as I held h
er waist.

  I shrugged at her question and guided her out of the restaurant after a quick farewell to Reese. Out on the street, I wrapped her hand around my arm and we began to walk. “I knew that shortening your name would give Sarah the impression that we were more than friendly, but I prefer Maxine. It matches you perfectly, that name. It’s feminine, yet tough.”

  She stopped short and I turned to her with a frown. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am. Max is a tomboy, a young girl trying to prove she’s tough. Maxine is a woman who’s tough as hell and comfortable enough with it to be feminine.” Heat flared in her eyes and I couldn’t resist any longer. My lips were on hers in an instant, licking the seam of her mouth until she opened with a gasp and her tongue welcomed me in.

  She groaned and wrapped one arm around my neck while the other slid up and down my chest, between the small space that existed between our bodies. When Maxine submitted to me and the kiss, my blood thickened with the fire that raged through me at her touch. Her taste. The feel of her in my arms. Eventually, one or maybe both of us needed to breathe, and we broke apart. Her big blue eyes were wild. And shocked. “Wow.”

  “Right?” Our last kiss was hot, but this one was explosive. We fell in step again and walked a block in distracted silence. I wasn’t sure about Maxine, but my mind was full of that kiss. Of how she felt in my arms, on my tongue. It only made me want to taste her again and again. I needed to taste more of her.

  “Did you mean that, about why you call me Maxine?”

  “Yes. Do you not like the name Maxine?”

  She shrugged. “I hadn’t thought about it, but everyone calls me Max.”

  “You’re Maxine to me,” I told her honestly, and it seemed to settle something inside of her. “So, was my company bearable this evening?”

  She nodded and hit me with a smile that made me trip over my feet. “More than bearable. Thanks for letting me crash your binge-fest.”

  “Anytime, Maxine. In fact, maybe next time you’ll let me just ask you out instead of showing up at the right time?”

  She said nothing until we stood eye to eye on her doorstep under the soft yellow glare of the small bulb above us. “Ask me sometime and see what happens, Dr. Cahill.”

  “I’ll do that.” And then, because it had been too long since I’d had a taste of her, I speared my fingers through her hair and pulled her flush against my body before devouring her mouth for long, endless minutes. My tongue danced in her mouth, teased her until her own tongue was under my spell, gliding and caressing until we were both overheated. Breathless.

  Dying for more.

  Maxine pulled away and put two fingers to her mouth, staring up at me like she was seeing me for the very first time. Like she was trying to trap that kiss onto her full, kiss swollen lips. “Damn. On second thought, maybe I’m not ready for a date with you.”

  I grinned and pushed my body against hers, sandwiching her between me and the front door. “That’s how you know you are ready. Besides, I’ll only bite if you ask me to.” I heard the shocked, aroused gasp as I turned away and jogged down the walkway with a smile. Leaving Maxine stunned and wanting more was exactly what I needed to do to make sure she thought about me later. I sure as hell would be thinking about her.

  In fact, I was thinking about skipping the football highlights in favor of a long and very, very cold shower.

  Max

  For the past few years, I’ve had a love-hate relationship with cupcakes. They’ve become a craze and, as a person in the creative arts, I automatically wince at the idea of crazes and fads. But as a single mother with a child to feed and clothe and satisfy with fashionable toys and taco nights, I appreciated the income they generated. But today, these cupcakes presented a bit of a mission for me—I had half a dozen different deliveries to be made for two bachelorette parties, a senior’s birthday, a teenage wedding, a church party, and three dozen to be delivered to an office building with no other instructions.

  It meant a lot of time in the delivery van which I normally didn’t mind, but a lot could go wrong with that many deliveries and I couldn’t stop thinking about all the possibilities. Well, that and the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about that text message waiting for me when I woke up and looked at my phone, like I did every morning.

  Let me take you on a proper date with dinner and dancing. So we can flirt and laugh all night, while trying really hard not to think of the goodnight kiss. Xoxo Derek

  How in the hell was any red-blooded woman supposed to focus on the task at hand with that message replaying in her head? I couldn’t think about Derek, or his sexy messages that reminded me it had been far too long since I had sex. Since I was held by a man… and I knew, now, that Derek was all man. And then some.

  “Max, there you are.” That voice feigning surprise at finding me inside my van, loading up deliveries, belonged to Betty Kemp.

  “Who else would be here, Betty?”

  She laughed and gave me a chastising look. “Funny girl. Rumor has it that you have a delivery near Cosgrove Orchards & Farm.”

  That wasn’t exactly a question, but I nodded and folded my arms, waiting for how this was about to become my problem. “I do.”

  “Excellent.” Elizabeth Vargas stepped forward, holding herself like royalty as she smoothed down the sides of the red blazer she wore with matching sneakers. “We need a favor.”

  “Of course you do,” I mumbled to myself. These old ladies weren’t even trying to be discreet anymore, and this was our fault. The young, single people collectively, that is.

  “What did you say, dear?” Betty’s arched brow said she heard exactly what I said. “You’re not too old for a trip across my knee.”

  I had to bite back a laugh at her words, uttered with completely seriousness. “I said, what is the favor?”

  “Oh, that’s simple. There’s a silent auction item we found for Dr. Cahill, and it’s being donated so every dollar will be full profit. But it needs to be picked up.” You had to give Elizabeth credit, the woman was a natural-born performer—she was laying it on so thick, even I started to believe her. Almost.

  “What is this item?” I wouldn’t put it past them to have me picking up a two-hundred-pound sideboard.

  “Just a small clock. Don’t worry, it’ll fit in your van with no problem. Won’t dent or ding anything, we swear.” Betty seemed like the more unassuming of the two, but she just had a low-key bossy way about her that made it impossible to argue. “Your last delivery is just thirty minutes from Upton, which is where the clock is located at the moment.”

  Upton? That was at least thirty minutes away, depending on traffic since only a two-lane road connected it to the modern world. “I’m not sure if I’ll have time to make that stop and pick up my daughter.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. Nina has already agreed that she and Preston will have Callie over for dinner.”

  I had that feeling again, the one that said I was being set up big-time and wouldn’t only see the whole picture when it was staring me right in the face. “Why can’t you go pick it up? Both of you are young and capable and able-bodied.”

  “And we intend to keep it that way,” Betty said in a tone that brooked no argument. “Besides, we’re asking you to do it.”

  And they knew, both of them, that I couldn’t very well say no without seeming rude. “Fine. I’ll pick up the damn clock.” I mostly ignored them after that, even as they talked and offered up all kinds of advice on dealing with the person donating the clock and how to pack it. I blocked them out while I finished packing up my own deliveries.

  “Have you heard one word we’ve said?”

  “No. I have a busy day, which includes driving all over the free world to make these delivers. I don’t have time to remember all these tips and tricks. It’s being donated, yes?”

  “Of course, it’s just that Carl is a little reluctant to part with it.”

  I groaned. “So, it’s not a done deal?”

  “It
is,” Betty insisted. “He’s just being a sentimental old fool. Just talk to him and keep him calm, it’ll all be fine.”

  I closed my eyes and sucked down several deep breaths, doing my level best to stay calm but these two women could challenge a priest’s patience. “Anything else?”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth began, but she stopped when Betty sent an elbow flying into her side. “I mean, no.”

  “What are you trying to hide from me?” Neither woman said a thing and my orders were officially packed up and ready for delivery. “You might as well tell me now. If I get there and I don’t like what I see, I’ll leave empty-handed.”

  The women said nothing else, only shoving a slip of paper with an address and sloppily scribbled instructions to the Cosgrove place into my hands before sauntering off down the street. I had to hand it to them, they were getting bolder with every passing day. It would just be nice if they didn’t have their sights set on me.

  By the time I had two deliveries under my belt, I had completely forgotten about the matchmakers and the mysterious silent auction donation. I’d gotten lost in the awe and wonder of cupcake deliveries. The bachelorette party women squealed with delight at their phallic decoration, which not-so-secretly made me giddy like a teenager. The reactions to my creations when they were delivered was about the only thing that could have pushed the matchmakers and Derek out of mind for most of the day.

  Then, the damn alarm sounded three minutes after my final delivery to remind me about the silent auction item. For about half a minute, I contemplated heading home and blaming my faulty memory for the mishap, but I couldn’t do that. Despite their meddling and insistence on getting every single person in town coupled up, starting with the Hometown Heroes, they were all perfectly nice women who meant well.

  The sky grew darker fast, and any Texan knew the signs of a storm rolling in unexpectedly. It was at that moment I cursed the matchmakers and wondered if they really were perfectly nice women. When the first fat raindrop fell, I decided they weren’t nice women at all. By the time the twentieth drop hit my windshield and lightning flashed in the distance, I was ready to lead the battle against them.