Love Blooms on Main Street (26 page)

Ivy was sweet and caring and funny and smart. And he was a doctor who couldn't balance his life and let everyone in his world down eventually, even if they didn't admit it, and even if there was always some excuse for it. He didn't want to do that to Ivy. He just wanted to protect her. But he wasn't so sure he could.

“I don't know about you, but I'm famished.” She grinned up at him after she'd pulled away, her hands lightly tracing a pattern on his arms as she looked deep into his eyes.

Brett felt a flicker of panic. She wasn't supposed to let herself get to this point. If she was hungry, her blood sugar could be low, and then it could crash, and… He stiffened.

Ivy frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“No. Yes.” He rubbed his forehead. “It was a rough day at work. A bad day.” They were nothing new. Back in Baltimore, a day like today would have been light. He would have left feeling relaxed, maybe even gone out for a few drinks before heading home. But now he felt weary, run-down and tired, and depressed as hell.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Brett studied her. Talking about his work wasn't something he often did. He'd trained himself to leave work behind him when the shift ended, to not spend his free time dwelling on the outcome of a patient he'd sent off to surgery. He'd purposefully avoided anything requiring long-term care. But all he could think about was that young woman. And he didn't want to think about her. That was hospital life, and this… here with Ivy… this was personal life.

Except they were colliding all over again.

“You taking all your doses?”

“Yes.” She narrowed her gaze. “Where is this coming from?”

“I just meant that if it was a problem again, I could help you out—”

“Stop right there,” Ivy said, holding up a hand. She looked so sad all of a sudden that he felt like the biggest jerk on the planet. He'd offended her, when all he was trying to do was help her. And help himself, he supposed.

Like it or not, he'd developed feelings for this woman. And he knew the complications of her condition.

“I'm not your patient. I have this under control.”

But did she? He wasn't so sure. He hadn't forgotten the day of the Fourth of July festival or the times she'd let her sugar levels drop too low before taking action. She was being too reactive for his comfort zone. But if she said she had it under control, he probably had to accept that. She wasn't his patient. And that was almost worse. It meant there was nothing he could do but sit back and watch and hope for the best. Just like he was forced to do with his mother.

And he'd promised himself a long time ago not to get in that position again, especially with someone he cared about.

“I had a patient today,” he said, looking her square in the eye. “With diabetes.”

“And it made you think of me?” She pursed her lips in disappointment. “See, this is why I don't like people knowing about my personal life.”

“Even me?” Brett raised an eyebrow. “I've shared things with you, too.”

“Yes, but you don't see me telling you how to do your job. Please don't tell me how to take care of myself.”

He tossed up his hands. “What can I say? I'm a doctor.”

“Not when you're here, you're not,” Ivy said, sliding him a suggestive smile. She slid her hands onto his hips and lifted her face until her mouth found his. “Can't we just have a nice night?”

He was overreacting. Getting sensitive. Brett stroked her hair, forcing back the anxiety that was forming a hard knot deep in his gut, but it didn't want to go away. “Let's order the food,” he said quickly.

Ivy was touchy about her condition. And fiercely independent. It reminded him of someone else he knew and cared about. And it made him uneasy. How many times had his mother casually remarked that he shouldn't worry, that she was taking care of herself, that she was fine?

Before he could go down that dark path, he pulled out his cell phone and made a call to the local pizza joint, where he ordered most of his meals that weren't spent with his mother or brother, at the diner, or now, with Ivy.

Ivy went into the kitchen to get them some beverages while he placed the order, and he could hear the soft hum of her voice as he waited on hold. The day began to wash away from him as he settled onto the couch in her tiny living room, and by the time he'd disconnected, he was feeling almost at peace.

And then he saw it: a missed call. Washington, DC, area code. The call.

Ivy came back into the room, carrying two glasses of iced tea, or sun tea, as she called it—she brewed it on her back deck while she worked. He shoved the phone into his pocket and took a sip, already knowing its aftertaste, already finding it familiar, and tried to push back the pounding of his heart as she set her glass down and leaned against his chest, running her fingers up and down his arm.

He could stay here forever like this if he wanted to. But now, thinking of that hospital in DC, he wasn't so sure that he did. Or if it was even an option.

I
t was a particularly hot day, even for August, and of course, that meant that Ivy's air conditioner would choose today of all days to burn out. She stared at the window unit she'd purchased secondhand three years ago, cranked a couple of knobs, even tried another plug, and still nothing but silence.

She sighed. It wasn't the end of the world, she knew, but buying a replacement was just another expense on top of an already mounting pile. She'd spent most of her morning going through orders and invoices and trying not to worry about how she would ever come up with the money to pay her brother back.

Luckily the benefit was just around the corner. Between the decorations and the silent auction item she was listing for a year's worth of monthly flower arranging classes, she should have an uptick in clients that would put her far into the black and maybe even give her the fresh start she was hoping for.

Unlike Kara, she hadn't had an inheritance to get Petals on Main off the ground or keep it going. Instead, she'd done it the old-fashioned way, by taking out a loan and paying it back, bit by bit. She'd sunk so much into supplies and inventory, with only a wish and a prayer that it would pay off, and by the first anniversary of the shop, she was officially turning a profit. Not a big one, but enough to add a few new luxuries here and there. Not enough to keep up with the medical bills, though.

She'd pinned every hope on the sale of her mother's house. Even though Henry had invested in some upgrades, the sale price ultimately covered only what he'd sunk into it. Other than getting on a better health plan, she was almost no better off than she'd been when Henry first came back to town. Worse, because now she owed not just the bank, but him, too. And no matter what he said, she took both loans equally seriously.

Most of her clients were centered in Briar Creek, but the Forest Ridge Hospital benefit could expand her pool of business, and not just for immediate needs, but possibly going forward.

She bit her lip as she began to let her mind wander with possibilities. No time to feed into temptation like that now. If she kept daydreaming, she wouldn't be focused, and none of those dreams would have a chance of ever coming true. There were a few more details to go over for the event to make sure she made the most of it.

She picked up the phone to call Brett, and then, with a glance at the clock, grabbed her car keys instead and turned the sign on the door before locking it. She rarely took a proper lunch break, but it was a slow day and she knew she wouldn't be gone too long. Even though Sharon Hastings didn't know that she and Brett were spending time together, Ivy decided to take a chance and drop by the carriage house. If Sharon noticed her pulling into the driveway, she'd just explain she was there on official business matters, which she was, sort of. Brett's car was outside the garage as she pulled to a stop behind it. There was never any denying where she was in town; the ancient station wagon was noticeable from a fair distance. Brett opened the door before she even had a chance to knock.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” he said, but something in his smile didn't quite meet his eyes. When they kissed, he didn't pull her in long and deep the way he usually did.

Ivy pulled back, searching his eyes. Exhaustion, she decided. The man was an ER doctor. She couldn't even begin to know how draining that could be.

Still, that little voice she'd tried to ignore flickered to the surface, the one that had enough experience with rejection to sense when something was amiss.

“I had a few questions about the event, if you don't mind.” She felt nervous as she remembered her notes. “The venue manager told me that instead of end tables on the patio, they're having coffee tables. I think we should add a small centerpiece for each.”

“Sure, whatever,” Brett said, brushing past her.

She tried not to read into his lack of interest. After all, planning this event was not high on his priority list or his area of expertise.

“Is there room in the budget?” she asked, knowing this was his main task in the process, along with hosting the event and, along with the chief, thanking the donors.

He shrugged, unconcerned. “If there isn't, I'll just write a check.”

Ivy couldn't argue with that. She started to say something, but his generosity was overshadowed by the restless way he prowled his living room and the distance in his eyes. Something was up. She'd seen this look before. Felt the distance. The shift in tone.

“Something's up, Brett.” She swallowed hard. If she hadn't come over today, then what? Another day of innocent bliss? Another day of thinking they were starting something?

He held her stare for a long time, his jaw tense, his eyes flat. He didn't need to say anything more.

“I should have known,” she said bitterly. He wasn't a relationship kind of guy, and now, once he'd gotten her, he was over it. “The chase is over, right?”

“That's not what happened,” he said firmly.

She folded her arms. “Oh no?”

“I'm leaving, Ivy. I'm leaving Briar Creek.”

Kara's words flashed to the surface, and Ivy heard herself bark out a laugh. It felt hollow. “Of course you are. You never stick around here for long. Are you going back to Baltimore?”

“Washington, DC. I'm lucky they'll take me, given everything.”

“Well, they're lucky to have you,” Ivy said, her voice thick. She told herself to be strong, to not take this personally; it was a career decision, after all, but something about it felt like anything but that. “How long have you known?”

“I've been thinking about it for a while now.”

A while.
All this time she'd been thinking they were building a future, he'd had one foot out the door. She blinked back the tears that stung her eyes. “I'm sure everyone here will be sorry to see you go.”

“It's an opportunity I wasn't sure I'd have again. It's a prestigious hospital. They get the majority of the big cases in the city. I'd be doing something important.” He stared at her, as if seeking her approval. Well, she didn't intend to give it.

“You could be doing something important here, too.” She peered at him. He really didn't get it. “Every patient is important, Brett. If you take the time to notice.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, all you care about is advancing your career. But you went into medicine to help people. I know you did.”

“Damn straight I did, and the hospital in DC could benefit from my skill set more than Forest Ridge Hospital.”

“I'll remember that next time I'm rushed there by ambulance,” Ivy said flatly. “I'll remember you're too good of a doctor to stoop to that level of care.”

“Stop it, Ivy. That's not what I meant.”

She folded her arms tightly across her chest. “No? Because from where I stand, you think you're too good for this place.”

He took a step toward her, his expression pleading. “I worked hard, Ivy. I went to the best schools. I was top of my class. I earned my slot at the best hospitals. That's where I should be.”

“Well, I'm glad you think you'll be making a difference.”

“You wouldn't understand.” He shook his head, looking away.

Anger rose within her. “No, I suppose I wouldn't understand how it feels to make a difference in someone's life. I suppose that when I stop by a sick or grieving person's house and deliver the bouquet I put extra care into creating, the smile on their face, however brief, doesn't matter. At least not to you. But it matters to them, Brett, and it matters to me. I might not be saving lives, but at least I care about people, and even if the help I offer is fleeting, even if I can't change the circumstances, for a second at least, I've made someone's day a little better, and that's what I understand. And
you
wouldn't understand
that
.”

Brett blinked, and the room fell completely silent.

“You never should have gotten involved with me if you were planning on leaving town,” she said, gripping her handbag straps tightly.

“I never should have gotten involved with you at all,” Brett replied.

She froze. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“You need more than I can give you, Ivy.” His jaw was tense, his eyes steely.

Ivy stared at him, searching for a hint of the man she knew was in there, but it was gone again, overshadowed by the jerk he'd become. “Hey, I never asked for anything other than a straight answer. But it seemed like you weren't ever able to offer one of those.”

“You want a straight answer? Here's a straight answer. I'm a doctor because I watched my mother fight for her life while I sat there knowing there was nothing I could do to help her. I'd already lost one person I loved, and I was scared as hell of losing another. I swore to myself I would never be in that position again. Ever. And then I met you.”

“And?” Ivy frowned, but the words began to take shape in her head and she stared at him in disbelief. “Wait. You don't want to be with me because I'm a diabetic?”

“Your condition is more serious than you think,” he replied.

She narrowed her eyes on him, took one step closer, and pulled herself up to full height. “I know all about the complications of my condition, Brett, and I have it under control. And
shame
on you for using that against me.” She turned and walked to the door, her body trembling with anger. She put her hand on the knob, knowing she should go, that everything that had been said was said, that no good could come from dragging this out, and that nothing could change what he'd decided. Or who he was.

She turned slowly, taking one last look into the dark depths of his eyes, but the light had gone out. “Life is a lot more enjoyable if you start letting people in instead of shutting them out.”

“You're just as guilty of that as I am,” he countered.

“Goodbye, Brett,” she replied, and pushed out the door. She was crying by the time she got to the car, not sure what she was more stung by. That whatever they'd started to build was over or that what he had said was true.

But how was she supposed to let anyone in when the one person she'd let get close had only let her down in the end?

Brett stared at the closed door until Ivy's footsteps had faded and the door at the ground level had slammed. He felt the thin walls of the carriage house shake, and he closed his eyes, making two fists at his sides to hold back the mounting emotions.

Ivy was perfect, in so many ways, and that's what made the situation impossible. She'd been too good, too sweet, and she'd made him want things… things he couldn't have. Things that couldn't last.

He'd done what he had to do, ended it swiftly. But it had gotten more personal than he'd wanted it to be. It was supposed to be about him moving, clean-cut and simple. Long-distance relationships rarely worked, and Ivy was a businesswoman; she should have understood. But she'd hit a nerve, exposing that raw part of himself he tried so hard to keep covered, the one that nagged and needled, the one that told him he wasn't a good doctor, not really, or that he could be better.
Should
be better.

A better doctor. A better son. A better person.

His jaw twitched, and he rubbed the spot where it was starting to ache from grinding his teeth. He'd done what he had to do. Ended it now, before he got in deeper. Before he let her down even more.

Before he let himself down even more.

He shook his head. He needed to get out, distract himself, put some distance between himself and this moment. He grabbed his keys and went to the window. The space below where Ivy's car had been parked was now empty, and his stomach tightened at the realization that she was gone. Gone from his house. Gone from his life. It was what he'd been hoping for—confirmation that it was over and that the worst was behind him, that she wasn't going to fight for him, wasn't going to try to make him change his mind—but now, staring into the backyard of his childhood home, he felt a loss so deep he thought it would break him.

He'd given this house up. His home. And now Ivy.

And once again he was back to the place he'd tried to avoid, wondering if he'd made the right choice, and if it was worth it.

Or if at the risk of protecting his heart and hers, he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life.

One of the perks of running your own business was being able to take a day off whenever you wanted. One of the downsides, however, was having no backup, and that meant that no matter how much Ivy wanted to crawl under the covers and have a good cry, she had no choice but to fulfill the remaining few orders of the day or risk not only losing customers but also letting people down.

And unlike someone she knew, she didn't like letting people down.

Ivy read the order on the computer screen through blurred vision. A fifty-year anniversary bouquet from a loving husband. Would it ever be possible for anyone to love her that long? Through all the ups and downs and turns in life's road?

Right now, it didn't seem possible. She'd dated over the years, but none of the men she'd seen had ever known about her diabetes. She'd been too worried how they would react, how it might affect their future, if she wouldn't be in a healthy enough position to have their children…

Any doubt she'd had that she was better off keeping things to herself had been confirmed today. Brett could have offered a long-distance relationship, but instead, he'd cut it off, hitting her where she was most vulnerable, reminding her that she was different and that at the end of the day, he was a doctor and she was… a liability.

Somehow, she managed to make the bouquet, resisting the urge to reach for the dark, broody stems and instead forcing herself to do what the person had asked for: something light, feminine, and, above all, romantic. She opted for shades of cream, pink, and lavender, using up the last of her Sahara roses. When it was ready, she wiped her eyes and went back into the alley to the car, hoping the drive would clear her head.