Have Bouquet, Need Boyfriend (10 page)

his body seemed to be having. “What kind of music do you like?”

She cleared her throat. “Just about everything. Oh, except for rap and

hard rock.”

“Favorite?”

“Country.”

He hated country. “Do you like to work out?”

She shrugged. “I walk back and forth to work every day.”

He wasn’t exactly a fitness fanatic but he liked to keep in shape. “I

have a gym-” At home, he almost said, but he didn’t want to sound as if

he was bragging. “I joined.”

She didn’t comment.

“How about sports? You follow any of the major league teams?”

“B-baseball.”

“Yeah, I keep up with the Braves. But I love football.”

She shuddered. She obviously hated it. “My d-dad is glued to the set on

Sundays.”

So was he, but she didn’t sound as if she approved. “Do you like outdoor

activities? Hiking, camping, boating? Skiing?”

“I’m not very athletic. I m-mostly like art and books.”

Did they have anything in common? “I hope you like eclectic food.”

“I’m easy to please.”

He wished!

Another strained silence fell between them. He’d never had this much

trouble talking to a woman before in his life. Which proved that he

certainly had no business getting involved with Rebecca.

Grateful when the restaurant appeared, he filled the next few minutes as

he parked detailing the menu. He knew it by rote, everything except for

the nightly specials.

A sigh of disgust lodged in his throat. He sounded like a waiter.

“You must come here a lot,” Rebecca said as she opened the car door.

“Yeah. But I have enough casseroles from the ladies so I don’t have to

eat out every night.”

She frowned and he wished he hadn’t mentioned the casseroles. He scooted

out and hurried around to help her, but she had already stood and closed

the door. Probably didn’t want to have contact with him. Did she think

he had leprosy or something?

“This way.” He placed his hand at the back of her waist, well aware she

tensed when he did so, but he didn’t care. Dammit, he was just trying to

be nice. The Southern gentleman his grandma raised him to be. The kind

alt the Savannah debutantes would have expected. Yet Rebecca seemed to

have no expectations.

Or desire for him, either.

The maitre d’ seated them at a small table in the corner. The lighting

was dim, the spicy aroma filling the room with delicious odors, the soft

strains of violin music adding to the ambience.

“It smells wonderful.” Rebecca took the menu and studied it, chewing on

her lip.

“May I get you some drinks?” the waiter asked.

“W-water,” Rebecca said.

“I’ll have unsweetened iced tea. And let me see the wine list.” He

opened it and scanned the selections, naming a few for Rebecca to choose

from.

“Wine’s not n-necessary,” she said.

Irritation flitted through him. “Rebecca, we’re just going to have a

glass. I’m not trying to seduce you, so you can relax.”

“I didn’t mean to imply you were. I mean, I’m sure you wouldn’t do such

a thing.”

Did the idea of him seducing her disgust her so much? He exhaled

noisily. “What do you mean?”

“I…” She dropped her head forward, that long, blond hair spilling down

like a silky curtain. “You…you and I. It’s silly.”

Anger deepened his voice. “What’s so silly about it? And why are you

avoiding me?” Had he really blurted that out?

She gaped at him, her big blue eyes enormous beneath those glasses.

“I…who said I was avoiding you?”

“It sure seems that way.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“You don’t have to raise your voice.”

He closed his eyes and reined in a temper he didn’t even know he

possessed. When he opened them, she was watching him warily. He swore he

saw the beginning of a tear in her eye and felt as if he’d just kicked a

puppy.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” Literally. Suddenly

hot, he tugged at his collar, then instinctively reached out and covered

her hand with his. She felt delicate and soft, a warmth radiating from

her hand to his. He’d never been claustrophobic, but he suddenly felt

closed in. At the same time he contemplated what it would feel like to

pull her in his arms. “I guess I misunderstood. You’ve been so

standoffish I thought you disliked me.”

A whispery breath escaped her. “It’s not that. I just know you wouldn’t

try to seduce a girl like me.”

Was she crazy? “And why not?”

Her eyelashes fluttered. “We…have nothing in common.”

“Sometimes opposites attract.”

“But you’re outgoing. I’m too sh-shy. Too quiet. Bookish.”

“I like books. And quiet people are good listeners.”

A small smile curved her pink lips.

“Besides, we’re just talking about being friends,” he said, determined

to put her at ease. He didn’t want to seduce her. Did he?

“Right.”

Was that disappointment lacing her voice? He studied her, trying to read

her reaction, but the waiter interrupted, and he ordered two glasses of

Merlot. She chose a northern Italian salmon pasta with artichoke hearts

and he ordered the steak and lobster.

After the waiter brought their drinks, he raised his glass, but his hand

trembled just as it had the first time he’d entered a delivery room,

which was ridiculous. Seeing Rebecca was nothing like taking his first

giant step into medicine. “Can we start over?”

She nodded and met his gaze. This time her vibrant blue eyes sparkled

with interest, and his belly tightened.

“To f-friendship.”

She clinked his glass. “To f-friendship.”

“And to art.”

She laughed softly this time. “I can’t believe you hired me and you

haven’t even seen my work. I normally don’t show it to strangers.”

“Then I’ll be honored,” he said honestly.

“Really, you didn’t have to take the time to do this. I could work out

the arrangement with Hannah.”

She would like that, wouldn’t she? Another dodging maneuver.

“No need for that.” He covered her hand with his again. “I think we’ll

work together just fine, Rebecca.”

Rebecca finally relaxed and managed to string together a few complete

sentences rather than the monosyllabic answers she’d produced in the

car-at least enough to get him talking about his family.

Yet, she still lapsed into wondering why any man would want her. Talk

about uninteresting. She wasn’t athletic. Didn’t like sports. Just art

and books.

She might as well brand the word boring on her forehead!

“So, I’m an only child,” his voice grew low as he finished. “I lost the

one brother at birth, I think I mentioned him to you before. I was

twelve but I’ll never forget the day he died.”

“I’m so sorry.” He looked so desolate for a second, she laid her hand

over his.

He curled his fingers into hers for a brief second and squeezed gently,

sending a current of delicious sensations spiraling through her. A bead

of perspiration gathered inside her dress and rolled into her bra.

Gracious, the man did things to her.

Then he pulled away and sipped his glass of wine. “Tell me about your

family. You have the one sister, that’s all?”

“Yep, just me and Suzanne.”

“She lives in Atlanta?”

“Y-yes.” Darn it, there she went stuttering again. All because they were

talking about her gorgeous sister. “She works for a land development

company.” And likes to ski and go to the gym.

Maybe she should fix the two of them up.

Heaven help her, what could she be thinking?

“Are you close to your father?”

Rebecca shrugged and toyed with her napkin. “We don’t talk a lot. He’s

busy with his new wife.”

“You seem close to Hannah and Mimi and Alison.”

“I am.” Rebecca smiled, thinking how her cousins had always drawn her in

to their group. Was he wishing Alison was sitting across the table from him?

He stretched back while the waiter took their plates, then ordered

coffee for both of them. Seconds later the rich, dark brew was delivered.

“I lined up the crew to paint. We’re closing the clinic on the

twenty-eighth, so hopefully the grunt work will be completed before New

Year’s. Maybe you can start right after that.”

“Sure. I have inventory at the bookstore, but my assistant can handle

that. Do you have anything specific in mind for the murals?”

“I was hoping you did. I’m not very creative.”

Rebecca stirred sweetener into her coffee. “I normally paint landscapes.

I’ve done a few children’s murals, too.”

“Mimi was excited about the one you did for Maggie Rose.”

“That was my baby present to her.”

“She loved it. It was an animal scene, right?”

She nodded. “Actually, I have been thinking of a few ideas.”

“I’m all yours-” he snapped his head up “-I mean, all ears.”

She laughed. Of course he hadn’t meant that, although the words conjured

up fascinating images. “How many exam rooms are there?”

“Six. Normally I use three, Hannah uses the other three for her family

practice.”

“All right. I could paint some landscape or floral scenes in the adult

rooms, maybe a garden scene or the mountains in the winter. Then I’ll do

a couple of murals for kids in the family exam rooms. Maybe a zoo scene

and a dinosaur one. Those are universally popular with kids.”

He nodded. “That sounds great. We could even designate the rooms with a

name for each scene.”

Excitement swelled in Rebecca’s chest. As they left the restaurant, she

gave herself a silent pat on the back for surviving dinner without

making a fool of herself.

Still, she hadn’t broached the subject of the baby plan. Maybe when she

got to know him just a little bit better….

She absolutely couldn’t let herself fall for him, though. After all,

they had nothing in common. In fact, in some ways he reminded her of her

father-his job, his interests, his ambition.

She could never be with someone as driven as her dad. His work required

cocktail parties and business dinners, the very reason he always wanted

some sophisticated woman by his side…and the reason Suzanne was his

favorite. She handled social events like a professional hostess. Her

father’s house was gigantic, formally decorated with modern sculptures

and pristine white walls, not at all a welcoming home for a family or

children. It was more of an entertainment palace.

Would Thomas want that kind of life one day, too? A wife to help him

entertain colleagues and throw dinner parties for the hospital board. He

was so intelligent. Would he be satisfied to stay a small-town doctor

forever?

Or would he leave Sugar Hill one day to pursue bigger things, as her

father had done?

Thomas followed Rebecca up the stairs to her flat, admiring the colorful

pansies in the window boxes and the country-style, woodcrafted welcome

sign on the front door. A beefy guy wearing grubby jeans yelled from

below, “Yo, Becky.”

Rebecca tensed and pivoted to glance down the stairway, then offered the

man a small wave.

“New Year’s is still lookin’ good.”

“We’ll talk later.” She fumbled with the key, then rushed inside.

He swung another look at the guy below before he stepped into the

apartment, wondering at his relationship with Rebecca. But since she

didn’t comment, he decided not to pry. If the man was her boyfriend, why

should he care? After all, he would be leaving soon, right?

The entryway of her apartment showcased antiques and homemade craft

items with cross-stitch samplers and a collection of small wooden

birdhouses in blues and yellows. Books overflowed an oak bookcase, while

photos of her family lined one wall. An eight-by-ten of Rebecca with her

father and sister sat on a table behind a Victorian sofa. Rebecca must

have been about twelve in the photo, her sister a couple of years

younger. She was scrawny and wore baggy clothes