This Kiss

by Teresa Southwick

  It was a nice room as hiding places went. It had a queen-size bed covered with a floral quilt in maroon, celery green and white with a coordinating bed skirt. Plush matching shams and throw pillows accented the bedding and she was resting against them now to protect her back from the four-poster, brass bedframe. White wooden shutters held the sun at bay and the walls were a warm beige with white enamel baseboards, raised panel door, and chair rail and crown molding to match. It was nicer than her apartment bedroom in California and this was just the ranch guest room.

  But the pleasant surroundings hadn’t muted her memory of what she and Dev did in the moonlight. And she had a feeling the moment of truth had arrived. It was time for step two in operation let Ben down gently.

  The boy crossed the threshold and sidled up beside her bed. “I saw you kiss my daddy last night.”

  “You did?”

  She pretended surprise, but she was the one jolted when heat flashed through her. The sensual memory was so powerful, it made her glad she was already sitting down.

  The boy nodded vigorously. “I saw you in the gazebo last night.” He rubbed a knuckle under his nose. “In those movies I told you about, they kissed and lived happy ever after.”

  “Yeah, I remember that.” She was stalling.

  “Are you and my daddy gonna get married?”

  She would have to teach Ben the finer points of the stalling technique. Darn it all. Dev had been right. Here was Ben asking her about It with a capital I—the kiss. And here was where she’d agreed to remind him that her plans hadn’t changed and she was going back where she came from.

  She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Sweetie, do you remember when your daddy told you that real life isn’t like the movies?”

  He nodded. “But when you kiss someone it means you love them. Daddy kisses me. Polly kisses me. And I love them.”

  “There are different kinds of kisses for different kinds of feelings.”

  “Does that mean Polly doesn’t love me?” He frowned and the sparkle in his brown eyes dimmed.

  “No.” Hannah picked him up and sat him beside her, putting her arm around his shoulders. “I guess what I meant to say is there’s different kinds of love. There’s the kind I have for my mom and you have for your dad. And the kind of love they feel for you. Then there’s the romantic kind, for when you get married.”

  “And when you have that kind, you kiss in the gazebo?” he asked hopefully.

  She shook her head. “Your dad was just giving me a lesson in kissing,” she finished lamely.

  “You don’t know how?” he asked, puzzled.

  She did now! “When I was in school, I was really, really smart. Because of that, I finished faster, but I had to work especially hard to do that. I missed out on some stuff and your dad was just showing me.”

  That sounded good, right?

  “You missed out on love?” he asked, wrinkling his nose in confusion.

  “No. Well, yes,” she admitted.

  “So you love my daddy.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I like your dad.” Wimpy word for what she felt, she didn’t have a better one to do her feelings justice.

  This was getting her nowhere. If anyone found out she was trying to explain the shadings of love to a four-year-old, they’d revoke her license to practice medicine on the grounds that she hadn’t a lick of common sense.

  “Ben, was there another reason you stopped in to talk to me?” Please say yes, she silently begged.

  His brow furrowed for several moments, then he nodded vigorously. “Daddy wants to see you.”

  “He does?”

  “In his office. Two men came to see him.”

  “Who are they?” she asked.

  “Daddy’s friend Mitch and Doc Hol’way. I like him. He gives me a toy when I don’t cry.”

  Hannah wasn’t sure whether to be apprehensive that Dev had sent him to find her, or relieved that it was an excuse to terminate this no-win conversation.

  She helped him slide down off her bed. “Let’s go see your dad.”

  She followed Ben downstairs where she found Dev in his office, a large room off the foyer. She glanced briefly at the L-shaped desk with computer, white enamel built-in bookcases, and leather wing chairs before she gave her attention to the two men with Dev.

  One was a tall, sandy-haired, blue-eyed hunk who would give Dev a run for his money with women. It had been ten years, but she recognized Mitch Rafferty, a championship bull rider and Dev’s friend from high school. Now he was the commissioner for the high school rodeo association.

  The other was Doc Holloway, a still handsome man in his late forties or early fifties. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and his salt and pepper hair gave him a distinguished air even though he wore jeans and a long-sleeved cotton shirt. His pale blue eyes were intelligent and brimming with humor.

  “You remember Doc,” Dev said.

  “Of course.” She couldn’t recall a time when he hadn’t been Destiny’s doctor. He’d taken care of her broken arm.

  “Call me Frank,” he said. “I’m a good friend of your mother’s.”

  “Nice to see you again,” she answered, shaking his hand. “It’s been a long time, but I remember Mitch, too. What are you up to these days besides high school rodeo?”

  “I’m involved with a development company. This area is ideal for the next big expansion. The population of Texas is exploding and Destiny is right in the path.”

  “I’ll be sure to duck.”

  He grinned and the look would melt the average woman into a puddle at his feet. A purely clinical observation since she felt nothing, no heat, weakness in the knees, or accelerated heart rate. Those symptoms only presented themselves when she was with Dev. And she didn’t even want to think about what that meant.

  “What can I do for you gentlemen?” she asked, careful to look only at the newcomers. She knew if she met Dev’s gaze, the memory of his kiss would turn her cheeks to neon pink. She had no desire to explain that to the other two men. “Since I know nothing about urban expansion, I’m going to guess this has something to do with the high school rodeo.”

  “We need your help, Hannah,” Mitch said.

  Frank Holloway nodded. “According to the rules, a doctor must be on site in order to hold the championships.”

  Dev folded his arms over his chest and tucked his fingertips beneath his arms. “Doc was supposed to handle that for us.”

  “That’s right,” the doctor agreed. “But I’ve been called away on a personal matter. My mother is ill and I need to be there,” he explained. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone and I don’t want to leave the kids high and dry. Polly mentioned that you were here visiting and suggested that you might be able to help us out.”

  “What can I do?” Hannah asked.

  “Be our doctor.” Mitch met her gaze. “We’re holding the championships on the Circle S, Taylor Stevens’s ranch. We’ll have a medical station set up and all you have to do is be there. In case of any injuries.”

  “Usually nothing happens,” Doc added. “Just a precaution. But in an emergency, you might need to stabilize for transport. We’ll have a paramedic unit and rescue helicopter for emergencies.”

  “What do you say, Hannah?” Dev asked. “It’s only a week.”

  Doc cleared his throat. “Actually it could be longer than that if Hannah agrees to my proposition.”

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “I was wondering if you might consider seeing patients in my office during my absence?” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Your mother has been singing your praises for a long time. I checked you out and she’s right. While I’m gone, folks will have to go a long way for medical care, or to the ER, which is a whole lot more costly than an office visit. You’d really be helping me out. Then I wouldn’t have to rush back. But take some time to think about it.”

  “Okay.” Hannah didn’t need more than a few seconds.

  She t
hought about the magazine upstairs as opposed to a chance to be of use to people. That and the need to take her mind off Dev. Surely idleness was responsible for her preoccupation with him. The frenetic pace of a med student’s life was not prone to leisure time. So the explanation made complete sense to her. Instantly her mind was made up.

  “Okay,” she said again. “I’ll do it.”

  “You’re sure about this?” Dev asked. “I know you’re here for rest and relaxation.”

  If she’d needed a booster to convince her, his deep voice raising goose bumps on her arms did the trick. This was a golden opportunity to avoid temptation. Correction—further temptation.

  She’d only been there a day and her attraction to Dev Hart was on the verge of an outbreak. She hadn’t been enough to make him notice her ten years ago, and certainly nothing good could come of it now. Relationships didn’t last. Her mother and father were proof of that. Not to mention Dev and his wife. Along with all the couples she’d seen fall apart in college and medical school. On top of that, her father’s desertion had taught her that she was too much trouble to love and she’d been smart enough to take the lesson to heart.

  Her attraction to Dev seemed to spread hourly. But anything romantic between them had all the symptoms of cardiac arrest. The diagnosis was clear: Devlin Hart was a walking, talking heartbreak. And she would be wise to take a break from him. This job was just what the doctor ordered.

  “I’d be happy to take over for you Doc, I mean Frank.” She glanced at Dev. “Rest and relaxation isn’t nearly as restful and relaxing as it’s cracked up to be.”

  Chapter Five

  “Addie, I’m going to lunch. I’ve got my beeper and cell phone if you need to reach me.”

  “Designer doctor from L.A.,” the woman mumbled.

  Before leaving Destiny, Frank Holloway had briefed Hannah about his practice, his office, and his manager/nurse for the better part of twenty years, Addie Ledbetter. But his briefing hadn’t done the woman justice. She was an I Love Lucy wanna-be with bright orange hair, big blue eyes, and all the diplomacy of a freshly sharpened scalpel. She could slice and dice without missing a beat. Right now she shook her head, tsked and sighed. Hannah decided that perfectly summed up her own feelings about her first morning filling in for Destiny’s doctor.

  “I’m a physician, Addie. I live in Los Angeles,” she said patiently. “The two are very separate. And what exactly is a designer doc?”

  The woman folded her arms beneath her generous bosom. “One with all that frou-frou paraphernalia. A body’d think you were a rocket scientist with all that fancy stuff.”

  “You mean Dr. Holloway doesn’t use a beeper and a cell phone?”

  “When he’s not here in Destiny,” she allowed. “But Roadkill Café’s about the only place in town to eat. It’s either that or you brown bag it. Either way I think I can find you without a communication satellite.”

  Hannah put her hands on her hips. Part of her wanted to laugh, the other part wanted to choke the woman, and to hell with her Hippocratic oath. She wondered if Addie talked to Frank Holloway like that or if it was just her—because she was an outsider.

  “I can assure you, Addie, that I’m a good doctor. I like helping people. And I’m serious about what I do. If someone needs me I want to be there.”

  “If you say so.”

  Hannah saw no point in trying to convince the woman that she belonged when she didn’t believe it herself. During college, med school and all the training that followed, she’d had to prove herself over and over again. Eventually she’d earned grudging respect. But here in Destiny, she’d never fit in.

  “I’ll be back about one o’clock to complete the charting on the patients I saw this morning.”

  “That’s only thirty minutes.”

  “I don’t need longer than that to grab a bite to eat.”

  Addie looked at her watch. “Afternoon office hours start at two. I’ll be back at one fifty-five.”

  Hannah nodded. “I’ll see you then.”

  She opened the door and stepped out onto Destiny’s main two-lane road. The town had undergone a facelift since she’d lived there. All the buildings had the look of an Old West town, even the computer store on the other side of the street. Doc’s office door had an oval, etched glass insert with Frank Holloway, M.D., written in fancy lettering. On the shop next door she saw the name This ’N That, Gifts and Antiques—Maggie Benson, Owner. Hannah remembered Maggie from National Honor Society in high school. She’d always liked the outspoken redhead and thought about renewing the acquaintance. Maybe. Later.

  After walking by the hair salon, she stopped in front of the café. Directly across the street was Charlie’s Tractor Supply. Standing out front she saw Dev Hart talking to a very attractive woman. So what else was new? In high school he’d always been surrounded by the best-looking girls—except when he’d been learning physics from her. She wasn’t even close to being in his league—no matter how much the gazebo kiss in the moonlight might make her wish otherwise. She would always be plain Hannah Morgan and he would be the hunk who attracted women like honey drew a swarm of bees.

  The shadow of the wooden overhang shielded her as she stood watching. Mitch Rafferty passed close by, but didn’t seem to notice her as he crossed the street. The closer he got to the twosome on the other side, the tenser he looked. He shook hands with Dev, then turned his gaze on the woman who looked familiar to Hannah. Dev glanced across the street and spotted her. The next thing she knew, he touched his hat and said something to his two companions, then walked toward her.

  Her heart skidded and she thought about ducking into the alley or the café, but she discarded both ideas. Either course would look like exactly what it was—full retreat.

  Dev’s boots thunked as he stepped up onto the wooden sidewalk. He took off his black Stetson and ran his fingers through his hair. “Hi, Hannah. How about joining me for lunch?”

  He was asking her to sit across a table from him while he turned one hundred percent of his attention on her. It didn’t matter that they wouldn’t be completely alone or that Roadkill Café was far from a romantic spot. The point was that by definition, joining Dev Hart for lunch meant that he would be there. She wasn’t prepared to deal with him, no matter how much she might have missed seeing him that morning. One of her reasons for filling in for Doc had been to get away from Dev.

  She stuck her hands into the pockets of her navy slacks. “What is this? Take a geek to lunch week?” Inwardly, she winced at her tone. She’d meant it to be teasing, not a cross between shrew and fishwife. “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right at all.”

  He frowned. “Many a truth…” He shrugged. “But you’re not a geek. Why would you think that?”

  “Once a geek, always a geek.” She tried to smile. “When we were in high school, you never went out of your way to acknowledge me. What other reason could there be for you to do it now?”

  He slapped his hat against his muscular thigh. “Ten years ago I was just a kid. How long are you going to punish me for it?”

  She tapped her lip. “Indefinitely, I’d say.”

  What else did she have to use as a shield? Besides, she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Being with him alone made her feel like a fish out of water and that feeling did not bring out the best in her.

  “For cryin’ out loud, Hannah, try to look at it from my point of view. I was a guy—”

  “’Nuff said,” she interjected.

  “Male bashing is beneath you,” he said, his brown eyes darkening more than she’d thought possible.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled. “It just sort of pops out.”

  “As I was saying, in high school I was a guy who could do just about everything well except physics. I wasn’t real happy about the fact that I was forced to get help from a girl, a younger one at that.”

  “You weren’t concerned that your jock friends might make fun of you?”

  “Of course I was,” he agreed. “A
nd you flaunted your IQ like a garlic talisman against a vampire.”

  “I wasn’t that bad,” she protested. Was she?

  “No? You were pretty darn smart. I was intimidated as hell. But you’ve changed.”

  “Do I still need to sneak up on a glass of water?”

  He frowned. “That’s the second time you used that expression. I have a feeling it’s not an accident.”

  “I overheard you describe me that way to some of your friends. You obviously don’t remember.”

  “I’m sorry, Hannah.” He sighed. “But you know as well as I do that there were separate cliques in high school.”

  “Brainers and jocks,” she answered.

  He nodded. “And I already admitted that I had some concern about clique-crossover backlash. You can nail me to the wall for this, but frankly you weren’t as good-looking then as you are now. You wore glasses practically as big as you were and pardon me for saying this but you were as flat-chested as a boy.”

  “Thanks for reminding me.”

  “I wouldn’t have said a word if you still were.”

  She met his gaze and the intensity there heated her skin. “So I’m not that way anymore?”

  “Darlin’ you’ve grown up and filled out.” He stared at her and his mouth turned up at the corners. “You’re fishing for compliments, aren’t you?”

  “Better late than never,” she said.

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Look, Hannah, you’d be doing me a favor if you joined me for lunch.”

  “Really? How?”

  “Mitch has a thing for Taylor Stevens.”

  The memory clicked and she snapped her fingers. “That’s who she was. I thought I recognized her. The rodeo championships are going to be held on her ranch.”