The GP's Valentine Proposal

by Jessica Matthews

  He smelt of fresh air and a hint of spice, and she cautioned herself not to act like a flighty teenager.

  “That’s right,” she said, pleased that her voice sounded normal in spite of her heart skipping in her chest. “Once in a while, I splurge and fix the real stuff.” Fortunately, the idea had come to her in the grocery store so she’d purchased all the ingredients in case the opportunity arose.

  “Wow. I can’t remember the last time I had made-from-real-milk hot chocolate.” He sniffed. “Smells good.”

  She plopped a handful of the mini-marshmallows she’d bought in each cup, then slid one in front of him. “Enjoy.”

  “I will.” He wrapped his hands around the mug as she took hers and limped to the table.

  “Are you supposed to be walking without your crutches?” he asked, his gaze pointedly moving toward the spot where she’d propped them against the counter.

  “My orthopedist said I could bear weight as tolerated, so I decided to start warning my leg of what to expect in two more days.” She sat, trying to hide her relief at being off her feet. “Besides, my arms were tired.”

  “Don’t overdo it.”

  “I won’t, but speaking of overdoing things, you really should let me take my share of call-back.”

  “We’ll talk about it next week.”

  She bristled at his dismissive tone. “I’m serious. There is no reason why you should handle the needs of the practice twenty-four seven while I’m here.”

  “I know.”

  “Then why won’t you?”

  “If you think I’m dumping the responsibility on you after one day on the job, you can think again. We’ll talk about it on Monday.”

  He didn’t need to add, and that’s final, because she heard it quite clearly in his tone.

  “Monday,” she agreed.

  “Any luck on the mystery housekeeper?”

  “No.”

  “I presume no one at the hospital was much help either.”

  She shook her head. “I only talked to a few nurses in OB while you were busy with Rosy Valesquez and her baby. It’s hard to ask questions when you have to watch every word.”

  “I wouldn’t worry too much. When you least expect it, you’ll run across someone who can give you another piece to the puzzle. So tell me what you do in your spare time in Chicago.”

  He clearly didn’t want to discuss Ned and, to be honest, neither did she. “I have season tickets to the Chicago Symphony. Then there are trips to the Shedd Aquarium or just strolling along the Navy Pier to feel the breeze coming off the lake.”

  “So you like water?”

  “I don’t know that I like it,” she said. “Fascinated might be a better word. No.” She shook her head. “That’s not right either. Cautiously curious. My parents drowned, you know.”

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “What happened?”

  “A boating accident on the lake. Until I became a teenager, I couldn’t be around anything larger than a pool. When I was sixteen, I forced myself to take control of my fear instead of allowing it to control me, so I started visiting the aquarium. I finally saw that the water held life in it, too, not just death, and then I was able to move on.” She grinned to lighten the suddenly serious mood. “Now I teach lifesaving classes at the YMCA.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “It’s all mind over matter.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  “It wasn’t, believe me.”

  “Did your aunt and uncle help you deal with this, too?”

  She skirted the issue. It was one thing to know that they’d taken her in on sufferance and another to admit it to anyone else. “They had their own problems,” she said simply. “I tried not to dump any of mine on them, too.”

  Then, because she preferred to talk about something other than herself, she changed the subject. “As for things to do, the fantastic restaurants are a special outing in themselves.”

  “Never a dull moment, I suppose.”

  “No,” she confessed, “but not for the reasons you might imagine. I work ten- and twelve-hour shifts on a good day. After I come home, a night on the town doesn’t cross my mind.”

  “What about your days off?”

  “There’s so much to see and do that I barely scrape the tip of the iceberg with the few things I’ve already mentioned.” She grinned. “And everyone knows I’m a sucker for a hard-luck story. If anyone wants to attend their kid’s soccer game or ballet recital, they ask me to fill in.”

  “And you accommodate them.”

  “Usually.” She shrugged. “I’m hoping that when I have children, someone will do the same for me.”

  “Planning on starting a family soon?” he asked mildly.

  “Someday,” she replied.

  “My grandmother always told me that someday never comes.”

  “Smart woman.” Then, because her love life was fairly dismal at the moment, she focused on his empty cup. “More hot chocolate?”

  “I can help myself.”

  “No,” she insisted, rising. “My house, my rules.”

  “I don’t have a gimpy leg,” he said.

  “Humor me.” She poured the last of the hot drink into their mugs and topped each with marshmallows before returning to the table. “What do the locals do for fun in Hope?”

  He sipped, then licked the foam off his upper lip. “Let’s see…”

  Focused on his mouth, Dixie’s temperature rose a few degrees, along with her blood pressure. The temptation to kiss him was strong, but she gripped the handle of her mug to restrain herself.

  “We have a bowling alley,” he said. “Then there’s dinner and dancing at several of the bars. If you’re into athletics, the health club has tennis and handball courts.”

  “A swimming pool?” she asked, remembering her Valentine’s wish.

  He nodded. “Yeah. Along with a hot tub and sauna. If you prefer checking out Lady Luck, the city band members host a bingo parlor on the first and third Saturday nights of the month. It’s only open during the winter, though.”

  “I thought bingo was a year-round activity.”

  “It is. The guys hold free concerts on the courthouse square in the summer, so they don’t have time for anything else. If you want to hear something more unusual, though, you should hear Annie Tremaine.”

  “What does she play?”

  “Bagpipes. When the weather and her schedule permits, she performs at the fire station. She draws quite a crowd, too.”

  “I’d love to hear her.”

  “It’s too cold right now, but once May arrives, she’ll be outside entertaining the neighborhood. You won’t want to miss it.”

  She didn’t want to, but logic reminded her that she would. Once she resolved Ned’s situation, or her month came to a close, she would leave. And if Ned didn’t work in Hope, she couldn’t return under the guise of visiting him. Maybe if Ned stayed, she would, but Mark had made his feelings about his professional association with her cousin quite plain. Unless fate granted her a miracle, she’d never enjoy Annie’s performance.

  “Sounds like fun,” she answered noncommittally.

  He took a long swallow of his hot chocolate. “This is really great. How did you make it? Milk and chocolate and what else?”

  “Family secret. If I told you, I’d have to—”

  “Marry me?”

  She’d planned to finish her statement along the lines of what a spy might say, but Mark’s suggestion presented a far more tantalizing prospect.

  “Absolutely,” she assured him with a smile. “With no chance of ever getting a divorce either.”

  “Some might say you were asking a steep price.”

  Their conversation had suddenly assumed a double meaning. No matter. She didn’t care who knew that she considered marriage to be a lifetime commitment and not just a we’ll-stay-together-until-someone-better-comes-along sort of relationship.

  “Things worth having are worth paying for,” she sa
id lightly. “My great-grandmother took her family recipes seriously, which is why they’re only passed down through the women. She believed in the adage of the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach, and I think she was determined to give the future generations of girls an edge.”

  He chuckled, then drained the last of his cocoa. “For cocoa like that, she was right. Are we still on for Thursday night?”

  Thursday was her enchilada night. “Yes.”

  “I don’t suppose hot chocolate goes with Mexican food,” he said, sounding hopeful.

  “No.” She laughed at his crestfallen face. “I’ll serve it after dinner, though.”

  “Ah,” he said, plainly satisfied. “One more thing to look forward to.”

  One more thing? She hoped he wasn’t only talking about food—she wanted his list to include being in her company.

  He rose and carried his mug to the sink, and she did the same. “I should be going. Thanks again.”

  “My pleasure.” She noticed a dab of marshmallow goo on the corner of his upper lip and blotted the spot away with her napkin.

  It was completely unplanned—one of those instinctive things one did for a child or a husband, not for a casual acquaintance or a colleague. She realized her mistake as soon as she’d made it, but she couldn’t rewind time.

  Her familiarity surprised him as much as it did her. His eyes looked as startled as she felt, and she was quite relieved that he didn’t recoil. For a few seconds, though, she was positive that neither of them breathed.

  She couldn’t ask for a rerun—life was firm about those. Instead, she could only backpedal and treat the incident—and him—as if her action had been too inconsequential to think about.

  “Marshmallow,” she explained. “It’s gone now.”

  If she’d stepped back and turned away, the sudden awareness that had flashed between them the instant she’d touched his mouth would have disappeared as quickly as it had flared into existence. That was all it would have taken.

  But she couldn’t budge. Her feet had become rooted to the floor and her knees had locked into position. If that weren’t enough of a response, her pulse rate had doubled and a longing ache in her chest grew to enormous proportions.

  She wanted to feel his arms slide around her, to feel his body pressed against hers. She was desperate to taste the chocolate on his lips, and so very eager to surround herself with his warmth.

  He must have seen the yearning on her face, because his answering gaze held a desire that plainly matched hers. His hand crept up to cup the side of her face a mere instant before his other hand did the same.

  Then, as frustration at his delay started to build until she was afraid she couldn’t stand it any longer, he closed the half-step between them and kissed her.

  His mouth was gentle for only a second before he suddenly pulled her against him. A guttural sound came from his throat before he unleashed enough emotion to literally steal her breath and good sense away.

  She clung to him, unable and unwilling to do anything else. This was where she wanted to be—in his arms, wrapped in his embrace.

  A reaction this powerful should have built up over time, or so she’d always told herself. Instant chemistry was a flash in the pan, a fireworks display that burned quickly and then was gone. However, Mark had disproved all of her ideas. It didn’t matter that she’d only met him a short time ago because it seemed as if she’d known him for ever.

  “Mark,” she managed to say, wanting to say more and unable to form the words. Somehow, and much to her delight, he understood that she needed his touch as much as she needed air.

  His mouth trailed along the sensitive column of her neck and his hands slowly roamed across her curves as if he were charting a reference map. As he touched her breast, she felt like the mythical phoenix that rose above the ashes of its previous form, completely and utterly transformed into new life. Never again would she be satisfied with anything less than the sparks she now experienced.

  And she wanted to return the favor—to give to him a measure, at least, of what he’d given her. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anyone before.

  Her sudden realization jolted her back to her senses. She didn’t lose herself in a guy after knowing him for one day. Her instincts might claim that he was exactly as he appeared, that he wasn’t feeding her a line in order to scratch a temporary itch, but she still didn’t fall into a guy’s bed after such a short acquaintance.

  For one thing, she wanted more. Flitting from relationship to relationship was too difficult for her. She wanted stability, a family that she could nurture, and she wanted it with a man like Mark. A man of principle. A man of honor. A man of high standards who refused to compromise. Falling for him would be so easy.

  And, thanks to Ned, so complicated.

  She drew back and frantically tried to salvage what she could out of the situation. “That was…” She drew a blank as if his kiss had completely emptied her brain of all rational thought.

  “Powerful?” he suggested, his gaze intent.

  She could think of all sorts of wonderful adjectives, but “foolish” headed the list.

  “Yeah,” she said instead, glad that he hadn’t chosen a word like “regrettable.” No matter what happened, or didn’t as the case might be, she didn’t regret a single second.

  Then, because the best way to avoid all sorts of explanations and apologies was to hide behind humor, she did.

  “I know you want my cocoa recipe,” she said lightly, “but I can’t hand it over on the basis of a mere kiss.”

  His serious dark-eyed gaze bored into her. “There was nothing ‘mere’ about it.”

  She thought about denying the truth, but couldn’t. If he obviously felt the same one-two punch that she did, he deserved an honest answer.

  “No,” she agreed.

  “So what happens next?”

  “Nothing.” Her voice sounded weak and she cleared her throat before she repeated herself. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “It wouldn’t be the smart thing to do,” she amended.

  “Even if it feels right?”

  Her resolve wavered. It wasn’t every day that she met a man who shifted her world off its axis.

  “I won’t deny that I’m attracted to you,” she said, aware of a blush spreading its heat across her face, “but if we acted on that…think of the complications we’d face.”

  “What’s complicated? We connect in ways that a lot of people don’t. That’s pretty unusual.”

  “It is, but we work together, which is the best way to ruin a romantic relationship.” She forestalled his objection with a raised hand. “Secondly, I could leave tomorrow.”

  “You won’t.” He crossed his arms and looked at her with complete certainty.

  “Tomorrow is a bit of an exaggeration,” she admitted, “but the point is, I’m not here for the long haul.”

  “A kiss doesn’t make a commitment,” he pointed out. “Why not enjoy each other’s company for the time you’re here and for as along as we do enjoy being together?”

  She left what she considered as the biggest drawback for last. “How do we get around Ned?”

  “This doesn’t involve him. It’s between you and me. No one else.”

  She wanted to believe that with all her heart, but she managed to raise one last objection. “Regardless of our reasons, we’re both trying to find him. We can’t afford to be distracted from our goal.”

  He bridged the short distance she’d placed between them. “I hate to tell you this,” he growled, “but I’m already distracted.”

  His breath brushed across her cheek and it was only sheer willpower on her part that kept her out of his arms. “You are?”

  “Thoroughly,” he assured her. “As for finding Ned, I hate to burst your bubble, but we’re not going to see him until he wants to be seen.”

  He sounded so certain, and therein lay the problem. Mark had a far more jaundiced view of he
r cousin than she did.

  “You promised to be open-minded,” she reminded him.

  “I said I’d listen to him and I will.”

  “But—”

  “Let’s agree to disagree on this subject and leave it at that, shall we?”

  “That’s my point. I’m not sure I can.”

  He paused. “Then you’re willing to ignore what’s between us?”

  Was she willing? No.

  “I have to,” she said miserably.

  For a few seconds Mark didn’t move. He couldn’t. If he moved as much as a muscle, he’d pull her back into his arms and he knew he shouldn’t. Her answer was no and that was that, even if he didn’t like it.

  If he was a smart man, he’d be grateful for the excuses she’d handed him. For a man who’d taken caution to new limits since his fiasco with Andrea, he must be losing his mind to pursue a woman he hardly knew with such single-minded purpose.

  This was a test, he justified. Only a test. He’d been afraid she would resort to any tactic and use him in any way to ensure that Ned didn’t lose his job. What better way to make it easy for her to do so?

  If it was a test, it backfired, something inside informed him.

  How true, he admitted wryly. Not only did he feel things he’d never felt with Andrea, but Dixie had passed with flying colors. She appeared too sincere and too apologetic in her refusal to be acting.

  But could he be wrong? He’d been wrong before—both Andrea and Ned had seemed sincere, too. Circumstances being what they were, he really didn’t have any business getting involved with Dixie. Logic demanded that he step on the brakes and approach this as warily as he had in the past, but if he was honest with himself, he was just plain tired of being cautious.

  No one knew he felt that way, of course. Facing his own mortality last summer had caused him to think about the things he was missing in his life, but Richmond’s retirement and bringing Ned on board had kept him too busy to focus on his personal life.

  Now, when he’d least expected it, along came a woman who was the first one in ages to make him feel alive. A year ago, he would have ignored those feelings, but now he refused to let her go without a fight. Anything worth having was worth fighting for, even if it only lasted for a season.