Gatlinburg Getaway (Destination: Desire) (4 page)

She made a sympathetic face. “They save that for the gynecologist, huh?”

Leaning a little closer, he replied with mock gravity, “I chose the wrong field, clearly.”

“I bet it gets boring after a while. Like, ‘oh another va-jay-jay. Yawnfest’.” She faked a yawn for emphasis.

He laughed outright at that, realizing he was flirting and enjoying it thoroughly. It had been a good long while since he’d done that. “That would be a sad state of affairs, wouldn’t it?”

Nodding, she lifted her hands. “Best stick to optometry.”

“No doubt.” The truth was, he’d never questioned what profession to pursue. His uncle started this practice decades ago, and Dalton had worked here during every summer break in high school, so he’d figured out young this was what he wanted to do.

“I don’t have headaches or blurry vision.” She linked her fingers in her lap. “I try to take breaks and look away from the screen regularly.”

“Good. That’s exactly what you should do.”

They traded quips throughout the exam, and it surprised him how…comfortable…he was talking to her. He was an introvert by nature, and meeting new people wasn’t usually his idea of a good time. Luckily, in Gatlinburg, there were very few residents he didn’t know fairly well. One of the many hazards—and benefits—of small-town Southern living.

When he was done, he went to fetch the correct contacts. “These should last you for the week. I can order glasses and have them shipped to your home address, so they would hopefully meet you there, but you’d lose out on having our optician fit them for you.”

“I think I’ll wait and have my optometry office in California take care of me.” She accepted the little containers holding the contacts. “I’ve never had a pair of glasses just go on and not need at least
some
adjusting to fit right.”

“Do you need help putting those in?” He set a mirror on a stand in front of her.

She shook her head and grimaced. “No, I’m familiar with the torture routine.”

An accurate description, in his personal and professional opinion. “I completely understand. I got Lasik so I could stop dealing with it.”

“I actually don’t mind wearing glasses.” She shrugged. “It’s a funky fashion statement I can make without having to put much effort into it.”

“What did your old glasses look like?”

She made a mournful face and pulled a case out of her bag. He took the case and flipped open the top, cringing at the crushed mess. The rectangular frames had been chunky teal plastic, a combination that complemented her skin, hair, and face shape. They’d have looked good with her hazel eyes—which were a lovely mixture of blues and greens, grays and golds. Beautiful. She had good taste, if a little quirky. It took a confident woman to pull this kind of frame off, and he liked that about her.

After taking the case back, she tucked her broken glasses back into her purse and focused her attention on the mirror. She opened her eyes wide and popped the first lens in. Flinching, she shut both eyes for a moment. “Shit, piss, motherfucker. It’s like having a rock in your eyeball.”

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Not because he thought her misery was funny, but because most of his patients didn’t express their misery so colorfully. At least not in his presence. “Are you sure you don’t need—”

“Doc, I would likely kick you in the nuts if you tried to do this to me,” she stated grimly. “It’s best I handle it myself. At least then I have no one else to blame.”

“Or kick.”

The dimple tucked into her cheek again. “That too.”

Muttering to herself, she managed to get the second lens in and sat there blinking rapidly.

“Lean your head back.” He grabbed a bottle of eye drops, cupped the nape of her neck, and squeezed a few drops into each eye.

And all he could think was
damn, she smells nice
. Her floral shampoo teased his nostrils, along with some sweet scent that seemed to be uniquely hers. Silky strands of her hair slipped between his fingers, making him reluctant to release her. She turned her head to meet his gaze, and her lips were an inch from his. Want gripped his gut and it was all he could do not to close the distance and kiss her. The thought of her walking out of this office and him never seeing her again was suddenly unbearable.

“Would you like to have coffee?”

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Just as he was about to retract the question, he clamped his lips shut. Once she left, she wasn’t his patient anymore, and then there was no reason for them to see each other. She’d disappear and this potential throbbing between them would disappear with her. He didn’t want that. Meeting someone he could joke with so easily, so quickly, who was lovely and funny and made his blood heat…hell, that almost never happened. He couldn’t just let her go without trying to see if she was interested in spending a little more time together.

God, he had a sexy voice. That accent was enough to make her toes curl. It was like warm honey flowing over her skin, and made her think of long, hot, sultry nights. But until this moment, she hadn’t been able to see him at all. For all she knew, she’d been flirting with a cross-eyed, lecherous troll. Which would be par for the course on this trip, wouldn’t it?

She blinked him into focus.

The voice and the man didn’t quite go together in her mind. Dark hair, lightly tanned skin, lean build. Handsome, but not so much so that he was pretty. And also clearly Asian, which was where her mental image of him and reality didn’t jive.

She blinked again, and he chuckled. “I don’t look the way you expected.”

Busted. She gave a shrug and a sheepish grin. “The thick Southern drawl threw me off a bit, but Asian Americans live everywhere in the states.”

He moved the tray and mirror out of her way, took her hands, and drew her to her feet. The little tingles of awareness that had been skipping over her skin since the moment they met went into full, heated attraction. Damn, that was an intense buzz of chemistry. She looked up at him, but he was only about average height. She was the shortest of her sisters, so super-tall men had always given her a crick in the neck. He was just right, not too tall or too short. She liked that, even though it really shouldn’t matter.

Bending down, he grabbed her purse and handed it to her. “My dad served in Vietnam and met and married my mom there. Her name was Anh Nguyen, and I’m Dalton Nguyen Wakefield. Half Vietnamese, half Southern. And, yes, Southern is its own category.”

“I believe you. But, then, I think Californian is its own category too.” Their fingers brushed when she took her bag, and her heart skipped a beat. She cleared her throat and cast about for something else to say. “My oldest sister is named Anne. Similar to your mom, but different. It’s always been one of my favorite names.”

“Mine too.” He led the way out to the front desk, turning the lights off as he went.

Clearly, he was heading out for the day, and really had stuck around just to see her. She felt bad for keeping him on what was supposed to be a long weekend, but very glad he’d picked up the phone and agreed to help her. “Thank you again for letting me come in.”

“No problem.” He rang up her total for the exam and the contacts and she handed over her credit card without a whimper. The price was worth it to be able to see, and not as steep as she’d feared it would be. He handed her a bag with the bottle of drops he’d used, the contact case, and a write-up of her eye prescription. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” When he didn’t meet her gaze and appeared uncomfortable, she frowned. Then realized what she’d done wrong and felt like a moron. “You asked me to coffee.”

He nodded. “And you didn’t give me an answer, so I thought we were pretending I hadn’t asked.”

“No, we’re not pretending.” Because she wasn’t the type to pretend anything. A spade was a spade, and she called it like she saw it. While she knew she should get back to her hotel and watch the presentations, she decided she needed caffeine more. She wasn’t going to be able to fully concentrate until the caffeination situation changed. Breakfast, she could skip. Coffee, not so much. “And, yes, I’d like to have coffee with you. If the invitation still stands, that is.”

“It does.” His teeth flashed in an even white smile. “I’d be happy to show you where you can get the best lattes in town.”

She’d surprised herself with how easily that acceptance had come to her lips. Maybe it should have been simple, but she wasn’t usually the spontaneous type—too many years living with her flighty, unreliable mother made Camille cautious. She liked to plan everything down to the last detail, especially when it came to men. This magnetism between Dalton and her coaxed her into spontaneity, but that also made her wary. Still, she was only in Tennessee for a week…the time limit made it easier than it probably should have been to give in to temptation.

So, she leaned against the counter, a coquettish smile curving her lips. “The best lattes? Now that is valuable information for a caffeine addict like me to have.”

His gaze flicked down to her cleavage for the briefest of moments before he focused on her face. “Looking for a new dealer?”

“For the week, yes.” And that came out way breathier and much more come-hither than she’d intended, but…hell, it had been months, maybe longer, since she’d met anyone she found attractive enough to want to get her flirt on.

He laid a hand over his heart. “I can help you out, then, as a favor to a fellow addict.”

“You’re a good man.”

“I try.” He motioned her out the door, so she stepped outside and watched him lock up. It was then she realized he wasn’t dressed like a doctor. He was in a well-worn baseball T-shirt and a pair of jeans that did amazing things for his ass.

Mmm-hmm. Very nice. She glanced up when he turned around, but she was pretty sure she’d been caught staring.

He grinned and pocketed his keys. “Ready?”

“For anything.”

Stuffing the bag he’d given her into her purse, she hooked the strap over her shoulder and fell into step beside him. At the end of the walkway, he turned away from what she thought was the main part of town and into a more residential area.

After two blocks, she asked, “Where is this coffee place?”

“Right here.” He turned up the front path of a charming bungalow with a wraparound porch. Mounting the steps, he glanced back to see if she’d followed. He waved her into a rocking chair. “Have a seat. Be right back.”

He pulled out his keys again, unlocked the front door, and disappeared inside.

Clearly, this was his house. She debated making a run for it, but there was a decent amount of foot traffic on this street, and she was in plain sight of the public. She could scream and run if he tried anything. Not that she got the vibe he would, or she’d already be gone.

So she sat and pushed her toe against the floor to set the rocker in motion. It was remarkably peaceful and she closed her eyes, relaxing. The stress and poor sleep from the night before caught up with her, and she felt herself beginning to doze off. She didn’t stir until the hinges on the screen door squeaked and he came out carrying two steaming mugs. One cup said
Good morning, I see the assassins have failed
and the other claimed that
Given enough coffee I could rule the world
.

He held them up. “Which would you prefer?”

Chuckling, she reached for the assassin cup. “That one.”

After handing it over, he settled in the rocking chair beside hers. Other than the occasional sigh of satisfaction, they were silent as they drank and waited for the caffeine to kick in. From his porch, she got to enjoy a spectacular vista of the surrounding mountains over the tops of his neighbors’ houses. Mist wound through the forested slopes, reminding her why they were called the Smoky Mountains. The humidity was killer, making her feel sticky any time she was outdoors, but she couldn’t complain about the view.

“This is where you get the best coffee in town, huh?” Because it really was an amazing cup of joe—she couldn’t fault him on that.

“Yep. No contest.” He took a deep swig. “There’s a few places that have some good coffee, but mine’s better. I have to warn you there’s a drive-in place on the highway that overcharges and their stuff tastes like cat pee mixed with dirt.”

The description alone was revolting. “I just threw up in my mouth a little.”

He nodded. “It’s as bad as it sounds. Don’t be fooled by the convenience of not having to get out of your car.”

“I’ll remember that.” She leaned back in her chair and sipped her liquid ambrosia. A gentle breeze ruffled her hair, and she let out a slow breath. She hadn’t realized just how tense she was until her muscles started to unkink. Of course, that serene moment was when her stomach decided to rumble. Loudly.

He glanced at her midsection. “Have you eaten?”

She shook her head.

A frown puckered his brow. “It’s nearly lunchtime.”

“I know, but I should get back anyway. I am here on business, after all.” She sat forward to tilt the rocker upright and set her mug on the porch railing. Reality had definitely intruded on her idyllic moment. “The conference has a good amount of time built in for sightseeing, either on guided tours or on your own, but I still have to be there for the actual conference. I took some time off to take care of the glasses issue, but…”