Authors: Maggie McGinnis
He sat down at his desk, cringing when he saw the piles of paperwork waiting there. Then he took a deep breath. “One inch. Just do one inch.”
He plucked the top inch from the closest pile and began to read the lab report. Before he got to the second page, however, his thoughts were wandering to a moonlit dock, a cup of coffee on a misty porch, a rumpled bed, and a fireplace stoked high.
He eyed Millie's keys on the corner of his desk, his brain sorting through what Millie had said earlier. He'd been determined to keep things casual with Delaney. Hell, he hadn't planned to keep them
anything
. But it wasn't working. At all.
He hated to admit that he'd started getting off the elevator in the morning looking for her. He hated that he listened for her voice as he met with patients and their parents. He hated that when he finally fell into bed at night, it felt way lonelier than it had in a long time.
“Hey. You okay?”
As if he'd conjured her with his thoughts, Delaney stood in his doorway, her brow furrowed.
He shook his head, blinking his eyes to clear his thoughts. “Yeah, I'm good.”
“Paperwork causing you physical pain?” She pointed to the piles on his desk.
“Yes. Does our workers' comp policy cover this?”
She frowned, shaking her head. “I think a match would be the only thing that would cover this.”
“I know, I know. I need to embrace the electronic age. And as soon as I trust it, I will.”
“I see.” She leaned against the door frame, and he had to physically stop himself from pulling her into the office and kissing her. Today she had on a flowery skirt and prim white blouse, and all he could imagine as he looked at her was undoing that top button ⦠then the next ⦠then the next.
He cleared his throat, eyeing Millie's keys, then asked the question before he could talk himself out of it.
“So I know it's late notice, but do you have plans this weekend?”
She looked startled. “Some, yes.”
“Oh.” He felt surprisingly defeated.
“Why? What did you have in mind?”
Ah, hell.
Should he bother to ask her? Pulling back from a getaway weekend was a lot harder than cooling things down after just a couple of hot kisses. Was he really ready to put that much skin in the game? Especially after they'dâsort ofâagreed not to?
“Camping.” The word was out before he could swallow it.
“Camping?”
He chuckled. “I didn't know your eyebrows could go that high. Camping not your thing?”
“Notâanymore, no.”
He watched emotions flip across her face before she set her jaw, and in that moment he remembered the story about her little brother.
“Oh, God, Delaney. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I didn'tâthink.”
“It's okay. I just haven't ever beenâsince Parker. Since that time.” Then she looked at him, subtly bracing her shoulders. “What kind of camping were you thinking about?”
He cocked his head.
Really?
She wasn't shutting him down?
He held up the keys. “The kind with floors and windows. Adirondack chairs, stone fireplace, couches.”
He was sure they both heard him
not
say bed.
“No sleeping bags and mosquitoes?”
“Only if you prefer it that way.”
She nodded slowly. Then she looked down, like she was trying to talk herself into it, or out of it. He didn't know her well enough yet to know which it was.
“Do you have a cottage or something?”
“Millie does. She rents it, but her guests cancelled at the last minute, so she gave me the keys and told me I wasn't allowed to be at the hospital this weekend.”
Delaney laughed. “And you say
you're
in charge of the pediatric floor.”
“I don't say it to anyone who knows betterâwhich is pretty much everybody.” He put on his best pleading face, surprised at how anxious he was for her to say yes. “So what do you say? I know we said we wouldn't. But ⦠I can't not ask you. Think you could stand a weekend cooped up with a doctor in a cabin by the lake?”
“I don't know.” She cringed, and his stomach fell. “Throw in a freak storm, and it sounds like the makings of a horror film.”
“Or a romance novel.” He shrugged. “You never know.”
Ah, double hell.
Had he seriously just said that? With a straight face?
She looked at the floor, seemingly weighing the pros and cons as he waited. Finally, she nodded slowly. “Can we order in Bellinis?”
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
“A few kisses, and now you're doing an entire weekend with the man? Are you really Delaney Blair?” Megan cleared a space on Delaney's bed so she could sitâno easy feat, since it was currently covered with a pile of clothing two feet high.
“I know. It's crazy.” Delaney blew out a breath as she flopped another shirt on the pile. “Com
pletely
crazy. What am I doing?”
“Well, it sounds like you're heading off for a weekend of mind-blowing sex with Dr. Dreamy.”
“Megan!”
Megan shrugged. “Just calling it like it is.”
“I wasn't going to do this. I distinctly remember us deciding we were going to remain strictly professional. Less than a week ago, for God's sake. And now he's inviting me to a cabin by the lake for the weekend? And I'm saying yes? Do I have absolutely no willpower at all?”
“You have a lot of it, actually. Just not with him.” Megan picked up a bathing suit from the pile. “Are you bringing this?”
“I don't know. Either that one or the blue. I can't decide.”
“You could go totally bonkers and pack both.”
“Stop picking on me.” Delaney turned back to the closet. “You know my stats. Three. Ever.”
“Aw, sweetie. You've been waiting forever for the right guy to come along and be number four. And look! He did! But you're destined to be nervous about it.”
“You think?”
“Just rememberâthing A goes into slot B.”
Megan laughed as a pair of jeans came flying out of the closet and hit her in the head.
Delaney shook her head, trying to decide which shirts would convey just the right balance of little-bit-sexy and I'm-not-trying-here. Unfortunately, it didn't look like she actually owned any.
“When is he picking you up, Cinderella?”
“Nine o'clock in the morning.”
“Then we have time to go shopping.” Megan pointed to the bed. “I mean, since it appears your entire wardrobe has been discarded, and you're back to about 1993 in the closet.”
“Shopping is your solution for everything.”
“No.” Megan shook her head. “But shopping
is
a solution for hot-date weekend with a new guy who makes your toes tingle.”
“I
have
done this before, you know.”
“Oh, I know. You just haven't done it inâ”
“Shut up. We're not counting.” Delaney backed out of the closet and pushed more clothes off a chair so she could sit. “What am I
doing
? I was never,
ever
going to fall for a doctor.”
“Best laid plans and all? News flashâthose fail. Often.”
“I know.”
“Hey.” Megan's eyes widened. “Do you still have your Perfect Husband list?”
“No.”
“You do, too.” Megan stood up and reached for the top drawer of Delaney's bureau.
Delaney leaped up to stop her. “I do not.”
She was too late. Megan opened the drawer and shuffled around, coming up with a piece of loose-leaf paper.
“Ha. I knew it.”
Great
.
Megan glanced through the list, smiling. “When did you make this, anyway?”
“A long, long time ago.” Delaney reached for it. “Come on. Hand it over.”
“Why do you still
have
it?”
“Because it keeps me honest. Reminds me not to be stupid.”
“Item number one.” Megan held the paper out in front of her.
“Meg, seriously.”
“My perfect husband will not be a doctor.” She shook her head. “Uh-oh, Joshua.”
“See? Told you.”
“Item number twoâmy perfect husband will be blond.” She wrinkled her nose. “Seriously? You were thinking blond?”
“I had a serious crush on that Disney kid who was in all of those movies at the time, okay?”
“Next itemâhe'll be taller than me. Phew! Joshua's back in the running.”
“Megan, come on.” Delaney laughed. “Seriously, give me the list.”
“No way. I haven't seen it since college. Not giving it back until I've read the whole thing.”
Twenty minutes later, Delaney was holding her stomach, which hurt from laughing so hard at Megan's reading of her list.
“So let's summarize.” Megan took a deep breath. “What we're apparently looking for here is a tall, blond accountant who loves dogs, hates cats, and wants to travel, but never across the ocean because there's a statistically higher risk of crashing and never being found.”
“Shark baitâthat's all I'm saying.”
Megan laughed. “I love this list. I think you should
frame
this list. We can read it at your wedding someday.”
“Right. Because that's looking oh so imminent these days.”
“Hey.” Megan shrugged. “You have a hot-date weekend planned here. It's a start, right?”
“If I survive it with my heart intact, yes.”
Megan looked at her, tapping her on the head with the list. “Am I a bad friend for kind of hoping you don't?”
Â
“Just cream, right?” Joshua held up a to-go cup of coffee as Delaney answered the door Saturday morning.
“God, yes.” She took the cup gratefully, having not yet found time to make her own. Even though she and Megan had spent an hour cruising the downtown shops before they'd closed last night, she'd still struggled to pack this morning.
“Come on in. I'm pretty much ready.” She took a long sip as he stepped through the door.
He laughed at her obvious desperation for caffeine. “Should I have gotten a large?”
“No. We can get another on the way.”
“The cabin's only a half hour away, on the other side of the lake.”
She shook her head. “Too far. My very low pain tolerance is balanced by a freakishly high caffeine tolerance. I may not survive past Dunkin' Donuts.”
He smiled, surveying her condo. “This is a great place.”
She looked around, trying to see it objectively. With its huge windows, high ceilings, and exposed brick and beams, she knew it appealed only to a select audience. She didn't know him well enough to determine whether he was part of that audience, she realized, and that realization made her stomach even jumpier than it already was.
“Reminds me a little bit of the original part of Avery's House, where the kitchen is.” He took a few steps toward the living room, which she'd decorated with Southwestern-style scatter rugs and Navajo pottery, all focused around the huge couch piled with earth-toned pillows that had been her big splurge when she'd moved in.
“Wow.” He parted the gauzy curtains at the huge riverside window. “Incredible view.”
“It's what sold me. As long as we never have a major flood, it's perfect. If we do, I'm going to need a snorkel.”
He laughed. “How long have you lived here?”
“I just barely moved in, actually. I looked at stuff all over town, but this placeâI don't knowâit has a story. I can still imagine it as a mill, in a way.”
His eyes scanned the open living area, and she was thankful she'd closed the bedroom door before he arrived. She hadn't yet cleaned up the piles of clothing scattered all over the roomâhad in fact slept on the couch because she couldn't
find
the bedâand at this point, she was tempted to bag up the whole lot and make a trip to Goodwill, rather than put anything away.
Joshua moved along the wall, and Delaney put her hand to her throat as he got to a picture and stopped, staring at it for a long few seconds.
“Is this Parker?”
“Yeah.”
He straightened the frame slightly. “He looks just like you.” He smiled as he turned back toward her. “So, are you packed?”
“Yeah.” Delaney's hand dropped slowly as she felt a peaceful feeling steal in. He was so matter-of-fact about Parker. All her life, people had either whispered quietly, just out of earshot, or they'd asked a hundred probing questions. It was refreshing to have Joshua treat him as if he'd just beenâher little brother.
Ten minutes later, Joshua pulled his truck into the Dunkin' Donuts drive-thru in the center of town.
“You were serious about more coffee, right?” He looked across the cab at her.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Good. Because I need donuts.”
She laughed. “You're a doctor. You eat donuts?”
“Only on special occasions.”
Delaney smiled. “I'm so honored to be part of one.”
“What's your favorite flavor?”
“Jelly,” she said, without pausing to consider the mess she'd make eating it. “And old-fashioned.”
He turned toward the microphone, smiling. “We'll take two large coffees with cream, and a dozen donuts. Half jelly, half old-fashioned.”
“A
dozen
?”
He shrugged. “Breakfast
and
lunch. We're on vacation, and when's the last time you had donuts, anyway?”
“It's been a long time.” She laughed. “I'm not sure I packed enough workout gear to get rid of a half dozen donuts, though.”
“No worries.” He winked as he shifted to pull up to the second window. “We'll go out in Millie's canoe. Two miles of paddling, and you'll be
begging
for a donut.”