Writing Mr. Right

by T. K. Leigh

  Smoothing my hair and pinching my cheeks, I opened the door and headed for the visitor’s desk.

  “Running a little behind today?” Reggie raised an eyebrow as I approached.

  “A bit.” I grabbed the clipboard and signed in. Different day. Same routine.

  “Have a fun Saturday night?”

  “I suppose.”

  I bit back a grin, thinking how my Saturday afternoon was far more enjoyable than any Saturday night in recent history…or ever, for that matter. My pulse quickened at the thought of Noah, but I suppressed it. I needed to do everything I could to relinquish the spell his vivid eyes, smooth voice, and panty-dropping smile had cast over me yesterday.

  “I just stayed in and did a bit of work.” I grabbed the visitor badge, placing it on my shirt

  “On the column?” He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his slender waist. “What do you have planned this time around?”

  “Another installment in ‘Confessions of a Serial Dater’,” I replied, although that wasn’t even close to what my column this month was supposed to be about. I think it had something to do with why Brazilian waxes were a torture device most probably invented by men. I was convinced they added some sort of drug to the wax that seeped into the bloodstream through the vagina walls to encourage women to keep coming back for more. Guys didn’t care whether or not a woman’s pussy was shaved. It could have been the Cousin It of vaginas, but as long as they could stick their dick in it, they’d be happy.

  “Can’t wait to read it.”

  “Me, too,” I mumbled, then turned down the hallway, navigating the corridors leading to my father’s room. I glanced at the screen of my cell phone, quickening my steps as I fought back a yawn. A tightness formed in my chest as I thought about my dad sitting all alone, wondering if anyone would visit him today. I hated that I’d arrived here nearly an hour after I typically did. I never wanted anyone to look upon him with pity, thinking he was all alone, that he had no one left.

  Opening the door to his room, I stopped dead in my tracks, completely taken aback by the sight that greeted me. I’d expected to see my father watching TV or doing a puzzle. I never anticipated Noah would be sitting with him. He peered at me, giving me a heartwarming smile, then returned his attention to the book I’d begun reading to my father on Friday.

  “Elizabeth saw what he was doing, and at the first convenient pause, turned to him with an arch smile and said, ‘You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? But I will not be alarmed, though your sister does play so well.’”

  Noah’s eyes locked with mine as he continued to read.

  “‘There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me.’”

  Unable to look away, I slowly stepped into the room, lowering myself into the empty chair beside my father. I studied Noah as he read with ease, as if he’d been reading nineteenth-century novels for years. He was dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and I couldn’t help but wonder why he was here. As far as I knew, he made his rounds at the nursing home on Fridays. He spent the rest of his time at his own practice by Massachusetts General in Boston, where we’d first met.

  He caught my gaze once more. My stomach warmed, erasing every bit of resolve I had to avoid him. I knew I should look away, should walk out of the room and keep my distance from him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t know much at that moment, but I knew I was inexplicably drawn to this man I couldn’t have.

  Bringing my legs under me, I settled into the chair my father always watched TV in at our old house. I leaned my head against the worn blue fabric and closed my eyes, the timbre of Noah’s voice the perfect lullaby to sing me to sleep.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  A NUDGE ON MY arm startled me awake. Disoriented, I opened my eyes and took in my surroundings. A dull light shone from a lamp on a side table to my left, the rest of the room in darkness now that the sun had set. I craned my head to the source of what had stirred me. Noah loomed over me, a soft smile on his shadowed face.

  “Hey,” he whispered warmly.

  “Hey,” I replied, stretching, still a bit groggy.

  “I’m sorry I woke you. I waited as long as I could, but it’s almost six. Visiting hours ended at five.”

  “It is?” I shot up, holding onto the chair to steady myself from the headrush. “Did my dad eat?” I asked urgently, my eyes searching the room frantically.

  “Relax, Molly,” Noah soothed, running his hands down my arms. I immediately stopped, a heat building low in my stomach as I returned my eyes to his. “An orderly came to take him to dinner at five. That’s where he is now.” He gestured to the entryway of his room. “He’ll be back soon, and you can’t be here. Sundowners.”

  I nodded, stepping away. I ran my hands through my blonde waves, then pulled them back into a messy bun. “When did I fall asleep?”

  “Pretty much the second you sat down. One minute, you were listening to Elizabeth Bennett give Mr. Darcy what for. The next, you were sound asleep. I thought about waking you earlier, but you seemed exhausted, as if you hadn’t slept in days.” He stepped toward me, only a whisper separating us. My heartbeat increased when he looked down at me with sincerity. “Is everything okay?”

  I opened my mouth, searching for words that just wouldn’t come. His warmth and compassion cast a spell over me…a spell I reminded myself I needed to break.

  “Everything’s great.” I turned from him and hurriedly crossed the room, grabbing my bag I had dropped by the coffee table. “I have to go. Drew’s probably worried.”

  I scurried into the hallway. The bright lights forced me to squint momentarily as my eyes readjusted.

  “It’s okay. I called him.”

  Spinning around, I practically slammed into Noah. “Why would you call him?” I demanded, searching his eyes. I knew it would look bad. Drew would push the subject, wondering if there was something I wasn’t telling him.

  “I know you have family dinner every Sunday. I didn’t want him to worry.”

  I tilted my head, furrowing my brow, studying his face. “How could you possibly know about our family dinners?” I raised my voice. “And what are you doing here on a Sunday anyway?”

  Dr. Connors, the executive director of the facility, chose that precise moment to round the corner, eyeing Noah and me. Taking a step back, Noah cleared his throat. His expression turned serious, professional.

  “Thanks for taking the time to come in today, Ms. Brinks.” His voice was no longer soft and tender, but firm and demanding, as if we were complete strangers. Wasn’t that what I wanted? “Unfortunately, visiting hours are—”

  “I got it.” I set my lips into a firm line, my eyes hard. I didn’t know why his sudden change in demeanor turned me so cold. Maybe I wanted to believe he felt the same connection I had yesterday. Or maybe I’d been so consumed with the fantasy world I’d created between Avery and Jackson, I had difficulty separating what was real from what was fiction. Maybe I’d simply imagined everything yesterday. “Have a nice evening, Dr. McAllister.”

  I spun around and continued down the corridor, hurrying out the front doors and toward my silver Audi SUV — the one luxury item I’d allowed myself to buy after my first book became a bestseller. I wanted nothing more than to return to the familiarity of my apartment and my family. I needed to listen to Alyssa’s stories about seeing the animals at the zoo. I needed to hear Aunt Gigi complain about the other women at her church trying to show her up by bringing the same dish as she did to the potluck. I needed to look Drew in the eye and tell him I had a date Thursday night, which I was very excited about. I prayed it would help shake away whatever I thought I felt toward Noah.

  Just as I was about to get behind the wheel, a familiar scruff voice called my name. I whipped my head toward the front doors of the building to see Noah running down the steps. My hardened expression unw
illingly softened as I took in his form. There was something I found extremely sexy and primal about him running toward me.

  Reaching my car, he took a second to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling. I could make out the subtle definition of his pectorals through his t-shirt.

  “Yes, Dr. McAllister?” I tried to ooze all the professionalism I could, mirroring his attitude toward me in the hallway just seconds ago.

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Look. I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to come off like an asshole in there. I just…” He drew in a breath, shaking his head. “You want to know the real reason I’m here today?”

  I remained silent, as if I’d forgotten the thousands of words I’d amassed in my vocabulary. He stepped toward me, the heat coming off his body warming me in the cool April air. My heart sped up. I tried to think of anything other than Noah’s proximity in order to halt my body’s impetuous response to him. I wasn’t supposed to be falling for this guy. I wasn’t supposed to have any sort of reaction to this man…this beautiful, endearing man.

  “This afternoon, I got into my car to run to the store and pick up a few things. Somehow, I found myself driving here instead. I went to my office first, then started wandering the halls, ending up over at your father’s wing. I walked by his room and saw you weren’t there.” He swallowed hard as he closed the distance between us, his eyes trained on mine. “I know you’re always here by two, so I decided to read to him, like you always do. I figured someone should.”

  As much as I wanted to melt into a puddle at his sincerity and compassion, I couldn’t. I needed to stay strong and forget that yesterday ever happened.

  I straightened my back, meeting his eyes with a hardened stare. “Thank you for that, Dr. McAllister. That wasn’t necessary. I’ll be sure to get here on time going forward so you don’t feel as if you have to put yourself out.” I turned back to my car, about to climb into the driver’s seat.

  “Molly,” he said in a pleading voice.

  Reluctantly, I faced him. I could have very easily gotten into my car and driven away, but something about how he caressed my name spoke to me in a way I didn’t quite understand.

  “I shouldn’t have told you all that.”

  He closed his eyes briefly, an adorable air of frustration about him as he ran his hand through his dark hair, tugging at it. When he returned his gaze to mine, his eyes were intense, fiery, a completely new look. He licked his lips, stepping toward me again. It felt like a giant game of cat and mouse. I knew I was the mouse. I didn’t know if I was the kind of mouse who’d be happy with the same kind of cheese for the rest of her life, though.

  “Have you ever felt as if you were losing complete control of everything, but in the best way possible? Like you had these firmly held beliefs you swore you would never stray from, then almost overnight, you’re ready to toss everything out the window because you want to know…” He trailed off.

  “Because you want to know what?” I leaned toward him, my chest rising and falling at a faster pace. My actions were no longer of my own volition.

  “Because you really want to get to know this person who is wrong for you on every level, but you can’t stop thinking about them.”

  My breath hitched and I swallowed hard at his admission.

  “Because I really want to get to know you, Molly, even though I know I shouldn’t.”

  I pulled my lip between my teeth, then looked away. “Noah, I—”

  “Ever watch a movie in a cemetery?” he interrupted, sensing my impending rejection.

  “I can’t say as I have,” I answered in a drawn-out voice. I tilted my head to the side and wrinkled my nose, curious as to where this was going. His admission hung in the air between us. Despite what he said, I didn’t see how any good could come of our friendship…or whatever it was.

  “When I was at Harvard, I started going as a way to clear my mind. Back then, they only did it occasionally, but over the years, it’s grown in popularity. Now they host it every Thursday from April through October.”

  “Like baseball season,” I mused.

  “Exactly.” A smile spread across his lips. “Once I moved back to Boston, I continued the tradition I started at Harvard and still go every Thursday. I think they’re showing An Affair to Remember this week, if you’re interested in joining me.” He lifted his brow, hope building in his gaze.

  I opened my mouth, hesitating. It would have been so easy to agree to his invitation, regardless of the fact I already had plans that evening.

  “As friends, of course,” he added quickly. “I’m not trying to lead you on. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea or…”

  I closed my eyes, his words like ice water, putting out the flames that had begun to grow. That was all I needed to hear to remind me why I should keep my distance. Noah was an expert at sending mixed signals.

  “Of course.” I lifted my chin, making it appear as if there wasn’t an ache in my chest at the thought of never knowing what Noah’s lips felt like on mine. I couldn’t let that affect me. I was on the brink of losing my contract with my publishing company if I didn’t turn in the manuscript they’d been promised by their deadline. “I’m sorry, but I have a date this Thursday,” I said proudly. I needed a new muse, a new source of inspiration, someone other than Dr. Noah McAllister. If I learned anything from Brooklyn’s assessment earlier and this current conversation, it was I had to stop thinking about this man. Hopefully meeting someone else would help toward that end.

  “Oh.” He stepped back. “With someone from speed dating?” He shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking on his heels. I noticed a look of disappointment in his expression.

  I shook my head. “It’s for a story at the magazine,” I lied. “I’m researching online dating, so…”

  “Say no more.” He held up his hands, flashing me that same smile that made a little flutter erupt in my stomach. “When your column comes out, I look forward to reading all about it.”

  I held his gaze as we stood in complete silence. I wondered if we were both thinking the same thing…that we wished things were different, that he wasn’t my father’s doctor and I wasn’t the daughter of one of his patients.

  “Well, have a good evening.” I turned to my car and slid into the driver’s seat.

  He placed his hands on the top of my SUV, his t-shirt lifting up slightly to reveal a sliver of firm muscles. “If your plans change, the invitation still stands. Forest Hills Cemetery. Seven o’clock.” He flashed me a brilliant smile, then closed the door to my car. I watched him jog back toward the nursing home.

  Once he disappeared through the glass doors, I leaned my forehead against the steering wheel and let out a groan, more confused than I had ever been in my life. I’d often complained about some of the characters in my books who seemed to change their mind in the blink of an eye. They were hot, then cold. They were sugar, then spice. They were black, then white. Now I knew how they felt. One minute, I told myself I needed to keep my distance from Noah and focus solely on finding a new source of inspiration. The next, I never wanted to leave his side.

  I prayed this was just a temporary infatuation, the result of lack of sleep and a looming deadline. I could only hope my date Thursday night would completely sweep me off my feet so I never thought of Dr. Noah McAllister as anything other than my father’s doctor again.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “ARE YOU EXCITED ABOUT your date tonight?” Brooklyn asked Thursday evening, plopping down on my bed as I peered into my closet. Not one article of clothing I owned stood out as being appropriate for my dinner date.

  Regret formed in the pit of my stomach at my hasty decision to go on this date. I blamed desperation and lack of sleep on my momentary lapse of judgment. Not just in agreeing to this, but to the whole online dating thing, in general. It seemed like a great idea when Brooklyn brought it up, particularly due to the unlikelihood of finding a nice, professional man at a bar. However, as Thursday had drawn closer, the ex
citement most women typically experienced at the prospect of going to dinner with one of the most desired bachelors in the Boston metropolitan area had been lacking.

  Timothy Vandersmith was everything I’d been looking for…filthy rich, handsome, and a workaholic, which was why he’d paid the equivalent of what most people made in a year to have someone else find him a potential date. It reminded me too much of being an escort…and an unpaid one at that. This was just further proof of my belief that real love didn’t exist.

  “It’s just something I have to do.” I glanced back at Brooklyn. “Mr. Jackson Price is ridiculously wealthy,” I reminded her, shrugging. “This date could be a good thing.”

  Brooklyn gave me a subtle look of disapproval, then grabbed the latest issue of Metropolitan magazine off my nightstand, flipping through it. I’d written a particularly riveting column about the health benefits of having an orgasm on a daily basis. I even reviewed a variety of battery-operated boyfriends for my interested readers. It was a tough job, but someone had to do it.

  “Speaking of which, what did your editor have to say about the pages you sent her? Have you heard?”

  I sank into a reading chair in the corner of my bedroom and met her eyes. My shrunken posture and the slack expression on my face told her everything she needed to know.

  “That bad?”

  I pulled my legs beneath me. “She didn’t say it was horrible, but she reminded me they do sexy, sweet, sinful, and most of all…happy.” I rolled my eyes, my irritation evident.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll do exactly what I said I’d do last week. I’ll go on a few dates with some handsome, professional men and hope someone out there has that certain something that makes my stomach flutter and my knees weak, inspiring me to write a sexy, sinful romance with little drama and a really upbeat happily ever after.” I flashed her my best fake smile.