She was leaving tomorrow, but there were planes, phones, computers.
Long-distance wasn’t ideal, but if she could find a way to forgive him, he’d give her everything he had. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer.
I’m trying to move on. If I’m doing this right, Vicki, give me a sign. Any sign.
The coffeemaker beeped.
Okay, maybe not the divine choir Nick had been hoping for, but he’d take it.
He poured himself a cup of caffeine then headed back upstairs to shower and change before Connor got up. The clock on his nightstand read six thirty. The clinic was set to open at eight. Mollie would be here soon to stay with his son for the day.
Now he just needed to figure out how to apologize to Belle.
Nick got cleaned up and shaved before dressing in his standard work uniform of black pants, white button-down shirt, blue tie and lab coat. His mind churned and he felt on edge, despite the hot shower. The right words wouldn’t come, no matter how he tried to force them. It was frustrating. Today, of all days, he needed to be on his game, needed to be productive and in the flow, needed to have the right thing to say at the right time so Belle would forgive him. There was too much riding on this to mess it up.
After combing his still-damp hair into place, Nick went downstairs to find Connor at the kitchen table, toying with the bandages around his left wrist. Guilt constricted Nick’s chest before he shoved it aside. Belle had been right. His son’s injury wasn’t his fault.
Mollie was in the kitchen, cooking up what smelled like eggs and bacon. She gave Nick a smile as he descended the stairs into the great room. From the open kitchen the sitter waved to him, a spatula in her hand. “Morning, Doc. Looks like you had some excitement yesterday.”
“Yeah. Con got a nasty gash on his wrist during his hockey game.”
“He told me,” Mollie said, unfazed. “Same thing happened to my oldest boy years ago. Live and learn. And watch out for those skate blades.”
Nick gave his son a kiss on the top of his tousled head then ruffled his hair. “How are you feeling this morning, kiddo?”
Connor mumbled, giving his dad a sleepy scowl.
“I’m getting ready to go into the clinic,” Nick said, walking across the hardwood floor to the fridge. “I wanted to tell you both good morning and I love you, Con.”
He swallowed the glass of orange juice he’d poured in one long swallow then set the glass in the sink. After showing Mollie where his son’s pain meds were and the instructions from the hospital for changing the bandages, Nick grabbed his coat from the hook beside the door. “Be good, Con.”
“Where’s Belle?” his son asked.
“At home, probably getting ready for the clinic like I am.”
“I don’t want her to leave Bayside,” Con said, and Nick’s heart went into freefall.
Nick sighed and walked back over to the table to take a seat beside his son. “I don’t want her to go either, but she’s got things waiting for her at home.”
“Why can’t this be her home?” He jutted out his chin. “Were you mean to her yesterday?”
“No.” Yes. Nick’s chest squeezed, his words sounding hollow even as he said them. “Belle’s got a life back in California, son. Don’t worry. We’ll be fine, no matter what happens.”
Connor scowled and crossed his arms. “It’s not fine. What about Analia? You’re ruining my wish to—” His son covered his mouth before saying any more, his eyes wide.
“Analia’s got an appointment with a doctor in Detroit after the holidays.” Nick’s thoughts ran back over the last few days and his gaze narrowed with suspicion. “Wait. Is that what you asked Santa for? To have Belle stay and operate on your friend?”
“No.” His son picked at the pine tabletop. “And fine isn’t fine at all. Nobody’s happy.”
Nick sighed and glanced at the clock then stood. This conversation was going nowhere fast. “Look, I’m sorry, Con. Sometimes there are no easy answers, but I really have to go or I’ll be late.”
“Whatever.” Con waved him off and put his head down on the table.
Talk about feeling like the world’s worst father.
As Nick drove to the clinic, he did his best not to dwell on the argument with his son and instead focused on finding the right words to say to Belle.
I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I’m in love with you and I don’t want to lose you again.
As he sat at a red light, Nick’s stomach knotted. Today really wasn’t the day to blurt out his feelings to Belle, but if not now, then when? She was leaving Bayside tomorrow, most likely never to return. The light turned green and he drove on slowly through the slick streets, still snow covered from the night before.
Uncertainty twisted tight knots in the muscles of his upper back between his shoulder blades. He’d been playing it safe for two years since Vicki’s death, not causing any waves that might bring up painful memories for Connor and trying to control the world. But now Nick wanted more. He wanted Belle by his side, through good times and bad. To see her face first thing in the morning and last thing at night. He wanted to plan for a future for the three of them together, as a family. He was not prepared to say goodbye again.
But the only way to get to the future he wanted was to deal with the present. To talk to Belle today and find out what she wanted.
He pulled onto Main Street and spotted a line already forming in front of the clinic. Old people, young people, kids, infants. Nick parked his truck in the employee lot behind the building and huddled in his coat as he headed toward the back entrance. All the lights were on inside, meaning Belle was already there. Anticipation and apprehension tingled in his gut.
He walked inside and took a deep breath, catching the scent of antiseptic and fresh paint. The low hum from the heating vents in the ceiling and the buzz of the fluorescent lights filled his ears. Beyond them were the sounds of Belle tinkering around in the lobby. He took off his wool coat and straightened his lab jacket then headed up front, spotting Belle behind the registration desk. According to his watch, they had about half an hour before the doors opened.
“Hey,” he said quietly, when she glanced over at him. “Can we talk?”
Before Belle could respond, Jeanette arrived to take over the front desk. Disappointment bit deep. He didn’t want to have a difficult conversation with Belle in front of his office manager. Dammit. Heat prickled up from beneath the collar of his starched white shirt as faces pressed to the glass doors at the entrance and patients jostled to get inside out of the cold. Normally, before a long day in the office, he liked to take a few moments to center himself, get his head in the right space, but today he felt completely discombobulated.
Maybe it was better to dive right in and deal with work first.
Then he and Belle could talk later, after they closed.
That would give him more time to consider his actions too. The rational part of him was still insistent that ending things with Belle had been the right thing, even if his timing had been questionable. Perhaps instead of apologizing and begging her to stay, he should instead make sure she understood this was all for the best. After all, his guilt and need for control were his issues to deal with, not hers. Until he made things right within himself, he shouldn’t bring her into it. She had a whole life waiting for her in California. He’d never ask her to leave her career and her dreams behind. He’d been through the same with Vicki and had learned his lesson. He didn’t want to live with regrets anymore. Even if his heart felt shattered into a million pieces.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BELLE’S DAY HAD started two hours earlier with a phone call to Beverly Hills. It had been the middle of the night there, but Dr. Reyes had still been in the office. A cautionary tale of workaholism she was grateful she wouldn’t be repeating. He’d picked up on the second ring, and Belle had squared her shoulders, prepari
ng for the difficult conversation.
“On your way home already?” Dr. Reyes had said by way of greeting. “I knew you’d be anxious to get home to civilization.”
“I am home, Dr. Reyes.”
“Back in California? Perfect. I’ll send a driver to pick you up and bring you down to the office. There are a few things we need to go over on the new cases you’ll be taking on after the partnership is finalized.”
“No, sir.” Belle had taken a deep breath. “I’ve decided I’m staying in Bayside.”
“Excuse me?” His surprised tone had quickly turned to anger. “Don’t be ridiculous, Belle. You’re tired. Get on a plane and get back to Beverly Hills. I need you here.”
“Perhaps, but there are people in this area who need me more.” She’d sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Dr. Reyes, but I can make a real difference in Bayside.” Analia’s face had flashed into her mind and the more she’d talked, the more confident she’d felt about her decision. “You know my ultimate goal was always to help people. I feel the best place for me to do that is right here in this area. There’s a great need for medical resources and I believe I can do more to help others here in Bayside. Therefore, I’m resigning from the practice effective immediately. I’ll continue to follow up with my current patients remotely until their cases are concluded, as per my original contract, but once those are closed, I’m done. Thank you for the opportunity, but I’m just not happy there anymore.”
He’d continued to sputter but she’d ended the call and put the phone down.
One difficult situation concluded. Today was the second. They had the free clinic to run, which meant working side by side with Nick. But deep inside her sense of inner peace had returned. She’d made the right choice, no matter how things with Nick turned out.
When she’d gotten in to the clinic this morning, the first thing she’d done had been to call Juan Hernandez. He’d been surprised too, thinking something else had gone wrong at the clinic. But when she’d asked him to come in today, along with his wife and daughter, Belle had felt an excitement bubble up inside her she hadn’t felt since med school.
Signal two she was on the right track.
The minute Nick walked into the clinic, Belle’s skin prickled with awareness and her chest pinched with yearning. She longed to tell him about her conversation with Dr. Reyes and her decision to stay in Bayside, but then she remembered his words from the day before.
It’s best if we don’t see each other again outside work...
Work. Right. That’s what she was here to do. That was why she was staying.
She hazarded a quick glance at him over her shoulder as she went through the appointment book again with Jeanette and her heart skipped a beat at his handsomeness. Even in his work clothes he was still the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. Nick would find out soon enough about her change in plans anyway. She’d need to buy out his half of the clinic in order to use it for her new plastic surgery practice.
“How’s Connor this morning?” she asked, looking away again.
“Good. Slept through the night,” Nick said, his tone gruffer than usual. “He’s on the mend. Look, Belle, I—”
An older lady with a cane outside rapped on the glass, pointing at her watch.
“We should probably get started,” Belle said, ignoring the rush of nerves inside her. Not nerves over seeing patients but over what Nick had been about to say. She didn’t need any more drama right now, good or bad. “I’ll go unlock the doors. Everyone ready?”
Jeanette nodded. So did Nick, though his expression looked as conflicted as she felt.
The minute she had the doors unlocked, the older lady with the cane limped in and headed straight for Jeanette. “Twyla Phillips. I need a refill on my diabetes meds pronto. With the weather, I haven’t been able to get in to see my doctor in Lansing and now they’re closed for the holidays.”
“Sure, Mrs. Phillips,” Jeanette said, handing the older lady a clipboard. “Just have a seat over there and fill out these forms and we’ll be happy to help you.”
Twyla toddled off to the chairs against the windows and Jeanette began slowing working her way through the line of people coming in.
Belle went back into one of the exam rooms to wait for the first patient to complete their paperwork and make their way down the hall. As she was fiddling with the instruments laid out on the counter—tongue depressors, cotton swabs, an otoscope, a reflex hammer—she heard the sound of a wet, hacking cough echo from the hall, followed by Nick’s calm, professional tone.
“I’m glad you came in to see us today, Mr. Banks,” Nick said, leading the patient into the exam room across the hall from hers. “Regular checks of your CHF are important. Can you tell me what meds you’re currently on?”
Nick glanced up and caught Belle’s gaze as he started to close the door. The warmth in his brown eyes hit her first, followed by the instant sizzle of connection that was always there between them, whether they wanted it or not. Her lips parted and her breath caught and she nearly ran across the hall to beg him to let her back inside his life again, but then the moment passed as Nick shut his door and Belle’s first patient appeared.
“Doctor?” Twyla Phillips said, limping into the room and handing Belle the papers in her hand. “I need help with my diabetes meds.”
“Sure thing.” Belle’s professional persona slipped firmly back into place. “Have a seat on the exam table for me and we’ll see how we can help you today.”
After going over Mrs. Phillips’s vitals and medical history, Belle wrote her out a two-week prescription for her insulin to get her through the holidays then sent her on her way. Next came Mrs. Welkins and her grandson, who was also her caretaker. Her dementia had progressed far enough that she didn’t verbalize much and she was quite thin, but really the only problem she had was a need for more of her medication.
The patients became a bit of a blur after that. There was John d’Andre, who suffered from morbid obesity and diabetes and had also developed a small ulcer as a result of poor circulation. He got a certificate for some free antacid, courtesy of Bayside’s local drug store, and a referral to a gastroenterologist in Manistee. Then there was Mr. Whitlaw, the father of one Belle’s elementary school classmates, who’d sliced his finger open making breakfast. Belle gave him three neat stitches and sent him on his way.
Between visits, she ran into Nick in the hallway as she took her files back up to Jeanette, but other than a murmured “Excuse me” as they passed each other, they didn’t have a chance to talk at all. Even lunch was rushed, consisting of a quickly consumed half of a sandwich in the back storeroom between cases. It was hectic and crazy, and Belle loved every minute of it.
It only reinforced to her she’d made the right choice to stay in Bayside.
Even if Nick didn’t want to see her anymore.
* * *
Finally, around five that afternoon the crowd of patients began to ebb. Belle was finishing up with a little boy with food allergies who’d developed a rash after eating some Chinese food. She’d been explaining to the mother how her son should take the medications she’d prescribed him when there was a knock on the exam-room door followed by Jeanette poking her head inside.
“The Hernandez family are here to see you, Dr. Watson.”
“Great.” Belle walked her patients up to the reception desk and greeted Juan and his wife before crouching before Analia. “Hello, pretty girl.”
“Hi.” Analia grinned, her dark eyes sparkling with energy.
“You wanted to talk to us, Doc?” Rosa asked.
“Yep. C’mon back to the exam room and I’ll fill you in.” Belle led them down the hall and gestured for the trio to enter before her then followed them inside. She was just about to close the door when Nick opened his door across the hall. Their gazes met, his eyes flickering to the Hernandezes behind her before
returning to Belle.
“Is there a problem with Analia?” he asked, his expression concerned. “She’s my patient. Perhaps I should take her case.”
“Hey, Doc,” Juan called out, raising his hand in greeting to Nick.
“There’s nothing wrong with Analia,” Belle said, swallowing hard. He’d find out soon enough anyway and though this wasn’t the ideal situation to tell him about her plans, it worked as well as any considering how busy their day had been. She took a deep breath and raised her chin. “Nothing I can’t fix anyway. I’ve decided to stay in Bayside and open my own plastic surgery practice here. I wanted to speak to Analia and her parents about the possibility of me taking over the surgery for her Crouzon’s.”
* * *
For a moment all Nick could do was stare down at her.
Belle was staying.
Part of him wanted to whoop and holler. The other part of him, the analytical part, wanted to ask her why, wanted to know what had brought her decision about, wanted to know if she planned to live in her aunt’s house and work out of this very clinic.
“If you’d like to sit in on my consultation with them, as Analia’s pediatrician, that would be most helpful,” Belle said. “You obviously know them better than I do and might put their minds at ease.”
He opened his mouth to respond. He’d love nothing more than to work on a case with Belle, to work on building a life together too, but before he could say a word, Jeanette hurried down the hall toward them.
“Sorry to interrupt, but Bayside PD just pulled up out front. Seems one of their officers was injured in the line of duty.”
A Mistletoe Kiss for the Single Dad Page 15
