The Doctor's Fake Fiancee

by Victoria James

  He swore, stood up and shoved the swivel chair hard across the room, watching numbly as it crashed into the examination table. He contemplated kicking it, but he was wearing the wrong shoes for that. He needed to go for a run and then find his brothers and have a few beers on one of their back porches. He swung around as a knock sounded. He frowned. It couldn’t still be Grace. He assumed she’d left after his asshole behavior.

  Grace pried opened the always-sticky door a second later, poking her head in first. Probably trying to make sure he wasn’t in some sort of crazy-person rage.

  “I didn’t know you were still here,” he said.

  Her lips pursed, and she raised her eyebrows. “I was just cleaning up a few stray feathers.”

  He ducked his head as the urge to laugh threatened. He’d almost thought Grace would have been crying over how he’d acted. Instead she kinda looked pissed off at him…and he was relieved by that.

  “And for the record, I really am sorry that the whole chicken debacle happened during your appointment with Lambert, but I still stand by my decision to save the chickens.” She folded her arms primly in front of her and took a deep breath. He took in the sudden appearance of cleavage with her movement. It was the nicest damn sight all day. Grace was becoming the nicest sight at the end of every day.

  He raised his gaze to her eyes, only to find them narrowed into little slits. Right. She was in the process of justifying letting dozens of chickens in. “It was what any decent human being would have done.”

  Which implied she doubted his decency. For some reason, the need to change her opinion of him suddenly mattered. “Well…we all have to stand by our principles. And for the record, you don’t have to be worried about your job. You’re essential here. I wouldn’t be able to keep up if it weren’t for you.”

  Her expression softened, and judging by the way her shoulders relaxed, he’d just alleviated her fears. He really had been an ass. “Okay, I guess I’ll just finish tidying up the kitchen and be out of here.”

  He started gathering his papers from his desk and stuffing them into his bag. “Why do you need to tidy up the kitchen? Cleaners come in every night.”

  He glanced over at her when she didn’t answer.

  “Haven’t you been in there lately?”

  He shook his head. Usually coffee magically appeared on his desk throughout the day. And he never bothered bringing a lunch to work, just skipped out for a sandwich at Nat’s bakery and café. Sometimes if he was behind schedule—usually due to someone insisting on asking him questions about his personal life—the bakery would send someone over with takeout. And in typical Red River fashion, there was always something slightly wonky about his order—like someone had helped themselves to the chips on the side of the sandwich. “No, why?”

  Her long-winded sigh had him distracted by her cleavage again. She walked forward and grabbed him by the wrist, yanking him down the hall. And as usual, the feel of Grace’s soft skin sent an electrical jolt through his system. And, as usual, he pushed it aside because it was an irrelevant reaction because he and Grace could never be anything more than their fake relationship.

  They stood in the doorway of the small kitchenette. She raised her brows and tilted her head in the direction of the room. He was obviously supposed to be noticing something. When he didn’t answer, she nudged him in the ribs and then pointed to the counter. It was filled with plates of desserts covered in plastic wrap.

  He frowned. “What’s with the buffet?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Are you serious? Your patients have been bringing all this in for weeks.”

  He searched for the right words. “My patients clearly have issues with sugar.”

  “It’s a way for them to let you know how happy they are to have you back in town. They adore you, Evan.”

  Evan leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms. He scanned the food, kind of incredulous. Maybe even touched, not that he wanted to be. He hadn’t planned on being affected by anyone in Red River. He narrowed his eyes on a familiar plate with cellophane and a big bow. He clenched his teeth. He was an ass. He’d never even bothered looking at one of those muffins she’d brought.

  “Well, I’d better get going. I was going to mention…before the whole chicken debacle, that I have been taking notes since I started here about how we can improve things. I think I have some pretty good ideas—”

  “Sure. I’d love to hear them.”

  She gave him a bright smile. “Okay, maybe tomorrow morning?”

  His gaze fell to her lips. “How about dinner tonight?”

  She tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear, but the curls fell back out. Without thinking twice, he reached out and tucked them behind her ear. Her breath caught, and a flicker of recognition passed through her eyes. And he realized he wanted more than a flicker, more than recognition. He wanted to see desire. Dammit if that wasn’t the worst thought right now.

  She stepped back, bumping into the wall. He put his hands in his pockets to keep himself from tugging her over to him. “Um, actually I’m busy tonight. Chris and I are going to Holly and Quinn’s for dinner.”

  He blinked. His family hadn’t invited him. He tossed that thought aside. He shouldn’t care. Really. “I’m glad you and Holly get along so well.” He was. Inexplicably pleased that she seemed to be fitting in so well to this town…and his family.

  She smiled up at him earnestly. “Me, too. Maybe we can try that new vegan restaurant at lunch? I think they have big tables, so we can spread out our files.”

  He opened his mouth, fully intending on saying yes, but then snapped it shut. Jake’s idiotic face popped into his mind, along with his advice not to order salad on dates with women. But this wasn’t a date. This was Grace, his receptionist. His hot-in-lingerie receptionist. His single-mom receptionist. His bleeding-heart, chicken-rescuing fiancée… He tried his hardest to internally recite his anti-single-mom policy, but when Grace looked up at him, large green eyes filled with…the emotion that he had managed to run from his entire life, he couldn’t think of one damn reason to not want Grace. “So tomorrow night?”

  She winced. “Tomorrow night we’re going to Jake and Claire’s.”

  Well, hell. She patted him on the arm and gave him the same sympathetic smile she gave to Christopher when he fell down riding his bicycle last week. “Maybe Friday?”

  Chapter Eight

  “Thanks for squeezing me in at the last minute on a Friday, sweetheart,” Mr. McCann called out in his gravelly voice, limping and managing to wink as he emerged from the hallway.

  Evan had almost forgotten they weren’t alone in the building. His eyes widened as the elderly man attempted to lean against the desk as though he were forty years younger and had a chance in hell at picking up a woman like Grace. Evan bit down on his tongue and resisted the urge to tell the man that pose wasn’t the best considering his approaching hip-replacement surgery. No, instead Evan stood there watching as Grace laughed and joked as she wrote down the time of his next appointment.

  But when Mr. McCann got a nice eyeful as Grace leaned over to help him with his cane and her shirt gaped, revealing some pale pink lace he knew he hadn’t purchased at My Sister’s Closet, Evan decided that was enough. He slapped the man on the back, a little too hard it seemed, as Grace gasped. “We’ll see you next week, Mr. McCann. Try and give that hip some rest.”

  The man turned to scowl at him, bushy gray brows snapping down like one of those Muppet characters in the critique balcony.

  “You bet, Grace,” he said as though Evan hadn’t spoken at all. Evan didn’t bother mentioning that he was the one who actually conducted the examination, not Grace. But, whatever. This behavior was something he was seeing more and more of. Every time he came out of his office during the day, Grace was laughing and joking with everyone. He wouldn’t be surprised if she already knew their entire patient list by first name.

  He followed Mr. McCann to the front door and locked it behind him. He turn
ed to Grace who was standing by the fax. He wasn’t going to check her out from behind like he was some creepy-ass boss. So he refused to process how good she looked in the narrow black pencil skirt and high heels.

  He cleared his throat. “So, why don’t I pick you up around seven?”

  She spun around to look at him. “Oh, I assumed we were just going to go there now.”

  Right. Because it wasn’t a date. It was an after-work meeting that she had suggested.

  But he wanted to take her out to a nice place. Sit across the table from her and listen. He wanted to find a reason to not like Grace so much. Yes, that was it. Maybe by the end of the night he’d be so bored out of his mind that all these inconvenient feelings he was having would finally be quashed. “Well, I thought you deserved a nice dinner out. You’ve been doing an amazing job around here, and it’s the least I could do.”

  A gorgeous shade of pink swept over her face, and her full lips pulled into a smile. “Thank you. Well,” she began tucking and sorting some papers until they were neat on the desk, “I think that will work because Ella asked if Chris could go over and watch some new movie at their house tonight. I was just planning on making some To-Do lists and doing laun”—she coughed turned a few shades pinker—“relaxing for the evening.”

  He stifled his grin. He’d seen her with that Spider-Man notepad around the office and everywhere she went. He held open the door for her once she’d gathered her things. “So I’ll pick you up at your house at seven.”

  “Right. Great.”

  He turned to lock the door and she was still there, awkwardly in the crook of his arm. And the second their proximity registered, she backed up a step.

  “See ya.”

  …

  Grace gripped the open doors of her closet, trying desperately to choose something appropriate for her date—no, meeting—with Evan.

  “Mom! Our friends are here!” Christopher yelled from his room. They weren’t expecting anyone.

  By the time she made it downstairs, Chris had already opened the door and Holly, Claire, Ella, and Michael were standing in the entryway.

  “Sorry I didn’t call first. I know you were going to drop Christopher off, but I just got some awesome news and couldn’t wait. Since we were all out, we thought we’d drop by, and then I can take Christopher home,” Holly said placing her bag on the front table.

  Grace moved aside, ushering them all in. She tried not to jump to conclusions about the news. “Thanks, Holly! Good news?”

  “Can we go play?”

  Grace nodded as Ella and Christopher bounded up the stairs. Grace’s heart was pounding as she waited for Holly to spill it.

  “The gallery called. You’ve got an appointment set up—two weeks from now!” She handed Grace a slip of paper with the exact time and date. Grace stared at the paper and then back up at Holly.

  “Thank you,” she said, choked up. She couldn’t believe this. Everything that had happened to her since meeting Evan was…like a miracle. She had a job that was actually pleasant, well-paying, a beautiful home, her son loved his new school and had tons of friends, and now…a chance at making her dream come true with her artwork. If she could hold onto the job at the family practice and then still have time to paint and sell some pieces of art, her finances would finally start to improve. This break she was getting on rent would allow her to bank some money for the first time in her life. She’d be able to set aside money for Christopher; they could have security. She reached out and flung her arms around Holly. “Thank you,” she whispered again.

  Holly pulled back after a few moments, smile still in place. “You’re so welcome, I’m so happy I could do this for you.”

  “Congratulations,” Claire said. “I can’t wait to see your work.”

  “So, um, what are your plans for tonight?” Claire shifted Michael to her other hip, her eyes locked on Grace even though the eighteen month old was squirming.

  She totally adored Evan’s sisters-in-law, and she’d never had friends like them. Ever. But she was reluctant to mention her…attraction to Evan. Something was telling her not to spill it. “You know, I was just trying to pick out something to wear because Evan will be here in like an hour. Do you want to come upstairs? Claire, you can bring Michael up and he can play in my room. It’s all carpeted.”

  “Perfect,” Holly said as they made their way up the stairs. “So is this a date?”

  Grace tried to walk and talk and not fall flat on her butt as she thought of going on a date with Evan. “No, no. Just a work thing—”

  “But you’re stressing about what to wear?” Claire asked, as they walked into Grace’s room. She had her there.

  Claire settled on the plush carpeting as Michael attempted walking, and Holly sat on the edge of the four-poster bed.

  “Where are you going for dinner?” Claire asked, catching Michael before he slammed his head against the dresser.

  Grace walked over to her closet. “I’m not sure exactly. He said something about a place in Port Ryan?” Grace turned around when she heard a squeal from Holly. She pointed to both of them. “It’s not what you think, trust me—”

  “Oh sweetie, we know Ev. Better than Evan knows himself, because we’re married to his brothers. And even though he thinks he’s so different from them, there are certain similarities that just can’t be ignored. Trust us when we say that Evan is very interested in you.”

  Grace’s jaw was hanging open at Holly’s declaration. She was about to argue when Claire cut her off, Michael dangling off the side of her shoulder. “Their father did a number on them, not that Evan will admit it, but trust me when I say he’s a good man who is really, really smart in his professional life, but really dumb when it comes to his personal. He actually thinks he’s perfectly happy in Toronto. And he thinks he’s not a family man—which is a total lie because even when he was living in Toronto, our doorbell would ring at like ten o’clock at night and it would be him with a six-pack, still in his hospital scrubs, and ready to watch the rest of the hockey game with Quinn and Jake. He’s always picking up little gifts for the kids, and he even plays dolls with Ella. He just needs the right woman to make him realize that. That Alexandra witch he was with—”

  “—did him the biggest favor by ditching him. You are exactly what Evan needs—”

  Grace looked back and forth between them. They were wrong. Even though she thought it was adorable that Evan was so sweet to his niece and nephew—which she could totally see because he’d been great with Christopher—it didn’t make him boyfriend or father material. She was curious about the father and Alexandra mention, though. Finally she held up her hands. “We’re not like that. I just work for him. I’m helping him out, but that’s it. I mean, I owe the man. I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for him. But I know for a fact, I’m not his type…but, um,” she walked over to sit beside Holly on the bed. She thought of the entire chicken debacle and how it all went down. So not Evan’s type. She cleared her throat. “What’s with this Alexandra woman?”

  Claire narrowed her eyes. “Let’s just say this woman—who was a surgeon, too—dumped his cute behind after the accident.”

  “He totally pretended like it was no big deal. But it was. Evan was one of those kid geniuses who skipped a bunch of grades and was obsessed with getting ahead, working constantly.”

  “And she dumped him? Why?”

  “Because he wasn’t good enough for her anymore.”

  Grace flung herself back on the bed. “Seriously? Evan should hate me. Pulling us out of the car cost him his career as a surgeon and his girlfriend.”

  “No you didn’t, sweetie. You’re just what Evan needs. I’ve always believed that everything happens for a reason. Sometimes we can’t see what the reason is, but there is good in anything if you look hard enough.”

  Grace ran her hands down her face. “Holly, that’s a really nice theory—”

  “Don’t even bother arguing with her, Grace. Holly gives everyone that pi
ece of advice.”

  “It’s solid advice. Besides, you can’t argue with a hormonal pregnant lady.”

  She had her there. Grace slowly sat up, Holly and Claire smiling at her. “Okay. No arguing but I just want to be clear that there’s nothing going on between Evan and I. He asked me to do him this favor and pretend to be his fiancée for this gala—”

  “Ugh. Medcorp,” Claire said. She gave Michael a kiss on his head as the toddler finally settled in her lap, resting his head on her shoulder. Grace wanted to ask them what made them so sure Evan was wrong. The man was extremely confident and intelligent. He obviously knew what he wanted. She didn’t understand what was so horrible about the position at Medcorp. The more she thought about it after Mr. Lambert’s visit, the more she came up with plausible reasons a man like Evan would have for working at Medcorp. Why were they so against his new career aspirations?

  She was about to ask when Holly gasped. “We’ve blabbed way too long. Evan is going to be here in thirty minutes. What are you wearing?”

  Grace bolted from the bed, and the three of them examined the contents of her closet.

  Half an hour later, they all agreed that an aqua, knee-length sundress with spaghetti straps would be ideal for wherever Evan was taking her. Strappy white three-inch wedges and a short white, short-sleeved cardigan tied the look together.

  “Hair up or down?” Grace asked, half an hour later, standing in front of the floor-length mirror at the front door. Her makeup was applied, she was dressed, and she had just engaged in the most hilarious sixty minutes of female conversation she’d ever had in her adult life. She had just found out more insider info on Evan than she had working with him the last few weeks. She’d almost forgotten about Evan’s ex and everything he’d faced after the accident.