by BETH KERY
“You’re amazing.”
She laughed and pointed her shrimp at him. “That’s not what you were thinking.”
“Oh, yeah? What was I thinking?”
“That I’m a steamroller.”
His low, rough laughter caused the back of her neck to prickle in awareness.
“You’re pretty good at that,” he said.
“Steamrolling?”
He pushed his plate back and placed his elbows on the table, leaning toward her. “No. Reading my mind. So what am I thinking now?”
Her eyes widened slightly when they met his. She saw humor in their depths…and heat.
She looked away.
“We should hurry. Brendan will be getting back to his room soon, and we still have to pick out invitations,” she said before she took a large gulp of ice water.
“I was actually thinking—among other things—about where we should have this little soiree,” he stated, ignoring her attempt at changing the subject.
Heat flooded her cheeks. His small smile told her he knew precisely what she’d thought he’d been thinking.
“What about having the party at my place? There’s plenty of space, and I have that large deck and a half-dozen heat lamps to keep it warm,” Eric suggested.
“No.”
His expression hardened. One second, all easy playboy-doctor charm; the next, as arrogant as a prince.
“Why not?” he demanded.
Colleen thought of how to respond while she chewed. She couldn’t just tell him point-blank that something about his luxurious Buena Vista home on Sunset Beach put her on edge. It seemed a constant reminder of the past, the crash, the drastic change in both the Kavanaughs’ and Reyeses’ circumstances.
She couldn’t tell him that her cursed Kavanaugh pride was responsible.
“It’s large, all right. Maybe too large,” Colleen said. “The party should be a little more intimate.”
“We could rent out a room at the Captain and Crew, or Bistro Campagne, I guess,” Eric mumbled, even though the scowl that shadowed his mouth said he still wasn’t thrilled with the way she’d shot down his first suggestion.
“Too expensive. We all don’t have your bank roll, Reyes.” She saw his eyes spark in further irritation, so she spoke before he could rebut her. “What about at my place? I know it’s not Buena Vista Drive, but I enjoy entertaining there. It’s large enough for a party, but intimate and comfortable, as well.”
“Where do you live?” he asked slowly.
“On Sandcastle Lane.”
“How long have you lived there?”
She thought while she chewed and swallowed. “A couple of years now.”
“So, you and the kids moved there after your husband died?”
“The house on Fifth Street was too large for just the three of us,” she replied. She wasn’t normally uncomfortable talking about Darin, but something about doing so with Eric made her stomach flutter nervously. In order to sidetrack him from pursuing the topic, she eyed his chicken tagine speculatively.
“Go on,” he said dryly, shoving his half-eaten lunch toward her. She skewered a piece of succulent chicken, popped it into her mouth and made a sound of appreciation. Eric chuckled. She grinned while she chewed.
“Never one to hold back, are you?” he mused. “Just as passionate about your likes as you are your dislikes. I admire that.”
Colleen paused in her chewing and swallowed. She set down her fork and wiped her mouth with her napkin.
“Thanks.” She took a sip of water, a smile lingering on her mouth.
“What?” Eric asked, his sharp eyes noticing her repressed grin.
“Nothing,” Colleen murmured. He continued to stare at her, one eyebrow cocked in a query. “It’s just that you praise my passionate temperament in such a cool, levelheaded manner.”
“So you think I’m cold? Dispassionate?” he stated more than asked.
Yet again, she blushed. His seemingly bland questions had brought to mind that kiss on Sunset Beach.
No. She was far from thinking Eric was cold.
“I wouldn’t say you’re cold. Just…analytical. That’s just the impression I’ve gotten in your work at The Family Center.” When she noticed his scowl, she added quickly, “I’m not complaining. I’ve had reason to be thankful my son possesses a surgeon with such a precise, logical brain.” She was increasingly feeling the need to escape when he didn’t say anything, just continued to pin her with a stare that made her want to squirm. She checked her watch.
“Speaking of Brendan, we better get going if we still want to pick out the invitations.”
“You don’t really believe I’m a walking robot, do you?” he asked.
Her eyes widened slightly. Damn. Had he read her mind again?
On one occasion last year, Eric had taken over the job of The Family Center’s regular physician while Dr. McIntosh was on vacation. Eric had refused to fill an anti-anxiety medication for Barney Glendan, a patient of Colleen’s with a concurrent history of substance abuse and panic disorder. Eric insisted the pill was mildly habit-forming. Colleen had gone to battle with him. Eric had never once lost his calm. His methodical explanation of why he wouldn’t prescribe the medication had infuriated Colleen. Barney had been on the medication for years to good result and had remained sober just as long. She’d told Eric in no uncertain terms that his medical decision was completely counterproductive to the patient’s health given his history of sobriety and compliance. She’d contacted Dr. McIntosh and had him fill the prescription, much to Eric’s irritation. Colleen had stood firm, however. Nobody, not even the brilliant Eric Reyes, stood in the way of her patients’ well-being. Later, as she’d driven home, she had called him an insufferable, arrogant robot.
But, of course, Eric didn’t need to know that.
She closed her notebook and shoved it along with her pen into her purse.
“I do not think you’re a robot. Some people are ruled by logic, some by their emotions. That hardly makes you a robot,” she said crisply.
“Uh-huh,” he muttered, his tone leading her to believe he knew he was being placated. He swiped the check from beneath her fingers when she grabbed for it. “The thing that really bothers you—”
“I never said I was bothered by anything—”
“—isn’t that I’m analytic or cold,” he continued, ignoring her defense and tossing some bills on the table. “It’s that you recognize we’re a lot alike.”
Colleen snorted. She couldn’t help it. “Alike? Us?”
He just nodded calmly, completely unaffected by her scorn. “We’re both opinionated. We’re both driven. We both fight for our patients’ well-being. We’re both known for being stubborn.” He stood.
“Oh, that’s your brilliant analysis of the situation, is it?” Colleen asked, half-irritated, half-amused, as she slid out of the booth. “Well, you may be brilliant, but you’re dead wrong.”
“How’s that?” Eric asked as he casually took her jacket from her hands. Colleen turned without thinking, letting him slip it on her. Only when she felt his knuckles graze her shoulder did her breath hitch in her lungs. She went completely still, her eyes widening, when she felt his hand slide beneath the trapped hair at her nape. He carefully withdrew the strands. His fingers furrowed through the tresses before he smoothed it next to her jacket.
Shivers ran down her spine.
He did not just do that, she told herself, her heart starting to hammer in her ears.
She had to put a stop to it or this thing with Eric was going to go from mutual dislike to sparking flirtation to epic catastrophe in record time.
She turned to face him, giving him an angelic smile.
“We are not similar at all. And I don’t pa
rticularly like you.”
She gave him a significant look and started to turn away, prepared to leave him standing in her proverbial dust. It’d serve him right for getting her all annoyed and agitated. He placed a hand on her shoulder, halting her. She glanced back. He leaned down until their faces were hardly six inches apart. This close, she caught his scent. The heady smell of subtle, spicy aftershave, clean skin and an elusive fragrance she could only identify as man filled her nose.
“That’s where you make your mistake, Colleen,” he said so quietly she was sure no one in the bustling restaurant could have heard him but her.
“What?” Colleen mumbled, set off balance by his sudden nearness.
“You do like me. You’re just too stubborn to admit it,” he said, his eyes glinting with humor, that infuriating smirk in place. He took her hand and started to lead her out of the restaurant. Colleen tugged, but he held fast. “Now, let’s go pick out our invitations,” he said, loud enough that Mrs. Pickens from the library and Pete Margaritte, who worked at the sawmill, both regarded them with avid interest as they passed. Colleen had no choice but to hurry after him, blushing profusely the whole time.
She’d agreed to be partners with him in this crime, after all. More fool her. She should have known from the beginning Eric Reyes would be way more than she’d bargained for.
“If you can just bring your invitation list for the engagement party to Brendan’s room later today, I’ll drop our combined list by Scrivener’s this evening,” Colleen told Eric twenty minutes later as they approached the hospital. Eric had led her to a back entrance in the administrative wing.
“We never got to discuss who we were going to invite in regard to our plan,” Eric said as he held open the door for her.
“Plan?”
“Yeah, what we talked about yesterday,” he said as they progressed down the silent corridor. “Operation Postpone Wedding, remember?”
“I knew what you meant. I was just hoping you’d reconsidered and given up on that idea.”
His long-legged stride slowed in the empty hallway. “You don’t think we should do it? You’ve decided Liam and Natalie aren’t being impulsive?”
“No, I didn’t say that. I think they should have a longer engagement. It’s just…” She glanced over at him furtively. There was no way she could tell Eric that it had begun to annoy her that he was so utterly confident Liam and Natalie were behaving foolishly just because they were head over heels in love. Why should it matter to her that he was a romance cynic? She was usually so easygoing when it came to other people. Why did she have this overwhelming need to contradict everything Eric said?
“Never mind,” Colleen said with a sigh, pausing in the empty hallway and facing him. “What were you planning?”
“Nothing major.” He glanced to his right when a gray-haired man wearing a lab coat stepped out of one of the rooms. Eric and the other doctor greeted each other, and Eric turned to a door and opened it. Colleen realized belatedly they were in his office hallway.
“Come inside for a second, and I’ll explain what I had in mind,” he said, beckoning her into his office. He said it so casually, she was sure her sudden hesitance was pure paranoia. His manner had been nothing but agreeable and platonic ever since he’d pulled her out of Sultan’s. He hadn’t released her hand until they reached the street, and Colleen swore she could still feel the imprint of his fingers on her skin nearly half an hour later.
He removed his jacket and hung it on a coat tree near the door, the muscles beneath his shirt flexing in a distracting manner. Colleen blinked and trained her gaze on his profile.
“Well?” she prodded.
He took a step toward her, and Colleen resisted an urge to back away. Surely they weren’t as close as it seemed. Eric just seemed to take up a lot of space in a room…or in her awareness, one of the two, she thought irritably.
“I was just going to put a few people on my list that might…highlight the relevant issue at the engagement party, that’s all. And I thought you could put the other member of the unhappy couple on your list and—”
“Great. Our engagement party will look like an episode of the Jerry Springer Show.”
He laughed, the sound striking her as deep, rich and unrestrained. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts, instinctively defending herself. There was at least one woman in Harbor Town who wasn’t going to turn to goo in the face of Eric’s dark good looks and potent charm.
“It won’t be that bad. I promise,” he said, still grinning, his teeth appearing extra white next to his skin.
“Who did you have in mind to invite?” she asked curiously.
He mentioned two divorced couples they both knew. Her eyebrows arched in grudging respect at his choices.
“That just might work,” Colleen had to concede. “Tony Tejada has been friends with Marc forever. Now he works closely with Liam at the Municipal Building. Tony went to bat for Liam, recommending him to the city council to fill the police chief position,” she mused. Tony Tejada was Harbor Town’s mayor, a friendly, well-liked man who, rumor had it, had spent more time and energy on his job than on his marriage.
“And I work on the surgical unit with Janice,” Eric said, referring to Tony’s ex-wife.
“I’ve been friends with Ellen Rappoport since we were in braces,” Colleen continued, referring to half of the other couple Eric had mentioned. “Although I’ve never liked that husband of hers,” she added pointedly.
“I’m not taking sides here. Cody and I are more acquaintances than friends. Natalie does Cody’s taxes, and we occasionally trained for a marathon together two years ago.”
“Well, he’s a louse,” Colleen stated, wanting to make her opinion clear. “He broke Ellen’s heart with his womanizing, and that doesn’t even take into account how Ellen’s kids must be suffering. She took such a big chance in marrying him, and he swore he’d always be a father to her children, even though they were from her former marriage. He adopted them, for goodness’ sake. I can’t imagine how much Ellen and the kids must be hurting.”
“Cody wasn’t necessarily womanizing. He behaved stupidly with an old high-school sweetheart at a conference. Once.”
“How can you defend him?”
Eric looked alarmed. “I’m not condoning his bad behavior. He was a fool, pure and simple. Even you have to admit, though, Cody represents our point pretty damn well.”
She took an aggressive step toward him. “If you’re implying my brother is even remotely like Cody Rappoport—”
“I’m not. I just meant that Cody and Ellen should have been a little more cautious about diving into marriage, especially with two innocent kids involved. I’m sure Ellen agrees with me, and likely Cody does, too.”
She eyed him suspiciously, deciding he looked sufficiently contrite for his semidefense of a slimeball.
“All right,” she mumbled. “All four of those people might realistically be on our separate lists, even if we weren’t attempting this silly plan.”
“It’s just a reality check,” Eric reminded her, his voice low and compelling. She glanced up into his eyes and wished she hadn’t. She couldn’t seem to look away. “You know…to remind our siblings that passion can cloud the brain.”
“Oh, yes. Because we all should be as rational and clearheaded as you,” Colleen replied under her breath.
“What’s that?” he asked, dipping his head toward her as though to hear her better.
“Nothing,” she muttered, because much to her shock his face was now only inches away from hers, and those eyes she’d formerly designated as the bedroom variety were latched on to her mouth.
“Mind if I ask you a question?” She watched his firm, shapely lips moving as if in a trance.
“Okay,” she murmured.
“Sixteen months ago I kissed you, and a few months later, you slugged me in the jaw in the parking lot at Jake’s Place.”
Her mouth fell open, but she didn’t utter a word. She didn’t know what shocked her more: the fact that Eric had brought up that kiss on Sunset Beach again or his reference to her impassioned, impulsive slug to his jaw last summer…or possibly the fact that said sexy jaw was now hovering mere inches away from her upturned face.
“I…I’ve never apologized for that. I’m really sorry,” she whispered.
Just thinking about it mortified her. It’d been a hot, sultry night, and Eric had got into a confrontation with her brothers, Liam and Marc. Old emotions regarding the crash had boiled to the surface. Colleen had made a fool of herself by stopping the fight by jumping in front of her brothers and punching Eric herself.
Not one of her finer moments.
Eric and she were the only two people on the entire planet who knew that impulsive act, in large part, related to what had occurred on Sunset Beach months before. That physical action was an admission, in a sense, that Eric had gotten to her, and he must know it. Colleen hadn’t realized until that moment how much a secret tied you to another person. She struggled to think up an excuse for her volatile behavior that summer night.
“We Kavanaughs are rather…protective of one another. You know how family can be,” she said apologetically.
“I do,” he said in a hushed tone. “But I didn’t bring it up because I was looking for an apology.”
“No?”
He shook his head slowly. She couldn’t pull her gaze off the firm, shapely lips centered above the indentation of that cleft on his chin. “I brought it up because I wanted to ask you something…something I’ve wondered about.”
She stood frozen to the spot, even though she knew she should back away.
His dark head dipped slightly. His breath, warm and fragrant, brushed against her nose and lips. The subtle scent of his spicy aftershave filtered into her nose. She inhaled, greedy for it.
“Do you regret that kiss?” he asked.
For a stretched few seconds, neither spoke. The silence was absolute. Colleen wondered if they both held their breath.
