I’m determined to ignore the attraction. It’s going to kill me to want to slant my lips against his and pull them apart with my tongue as I taste him, but I’ll manage just fine. When he approaches, the scent of his cologne sends my determination out the window.
“Sorry I’m late,” he says, using that husky tone that shoots heat through my body.
“Thank you for coming,” I answer when I find my voice.
He looks at my bags and shakes his head. “You seem like a smart man. I don’t understand why you’re moving to that forsaken town.”
“I’m not sure if you’re praising me or judging me.”
“Probably both,” he answers, grabbing two of my luggage pieces and leaving just one for me. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m relieved that someone is taking over the practice while Hayes and Blaire enjoy Machlan.”
Vance Aldridge is a puzzling man. Sometimes, I can’t get an answer longer than two words. Others, it’s a simple growl. I’m surprised that I’ve gotten this much from him.
Of course, I dare to ask, “Who is Machlan?”
“Their newborn.”
“Oh, I had no idea the baby had arrived.”
“It happened last Monday. That’s why Henry rushed everything when you said you’d be coming. According to him, you’re the answer to our problems.”
I wiggle my eyebrows. “Oh, I can be anything you guys want.”
He glares at me and walks away. It’s hard to catch up with him when he’s almost running. When we arrive at the parking lot, he’s driving a Cadillac SUV instead of the e-tron from the other day.
“New car?”
“I assumed you’d have more luggage with you,” he answers, and I wait for more. Like I borrowed it, or the helicopter couldn’t fit all your bags or…I’m at a loss. Maybe he already reached the word limit of the day, and I will start getting grunts and growls.
He still owes me a tour around Baker’s Creek. Not that I need it. Henry was kind enough to do it. However, he promised he’d be the one doing it, right? What changed? I have no idea, but I didn’t see him for the remainder of the trip. Henry flew me back to Portland.
During the drive to Baker’s Creek, I try to enjoy the view and the music. I’m surprised we’re listening to 90s music, not that I’d know what a man like Vance would listen to. Classic rock to pretend that he’s worldly and wise like some fifty-some-year-old man? Nah. Maybe something like heavy metal because he’s angry with the world?
I’m tempted to ask if we’re listening to Smashing Pumpkins “1979” for my sake or because he likes it. I don’t, though, because I don’t want to ruin the song. What if the guy is unconventional and follows his own rules? I want to know what he’s thinking. More importantly, I want to know what he’s feeling.
I’m guessing he’s one of those guys who doesn’t pretend to be someone else to appease everyone around him. He is his own person. That makes him a hundred times more attractive than he was before.
Dare, stop. You’re making shit up. You’re a doctor. A science man. Think with your big head and not the one that wants Vance Aldridge so fucking bad he’d be willing to do almost anything for him.
When we arrive in Baker’s Creek, he finally speaks. “Your furniture isn’t here yet. Why don’t I get you a room at The Lodge? Unless you want to borrow a sleeping bag and sleep on the floor while you wait.”
I laugh so hard I almost choke.
“Are you okay?” Vance asks, patting my back.
“You’re funny,” I say.
“It’s not like I’m sending you camping in the middle of nowhere.”
“I paid my dues sleeping in the most uncomfortable places you can imagine. A plastic chair, the floor of a lounge room, an airport…you name it, I’ve done it. Well, not camping”—I pause and shiver—“Now, why would I want to do that to myself. I'm a city rat, remember?”
He shakes his head before glancing at me briefly. “We’re going to take you into the wilderness and show you the beauty of being one with nature. It’s a job requirement.”
My eyes widen. He’s kidding, isn’t he? I mean, the salary is competitive, but not competitive enough to drag me into the wilderness. The corner of his lip twitches. I wish I could see his eyes, but his attention is focused on the road. “You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?”
He smiles. It’s a devastating smile. Breathtakingly beautiful.
“If that’s your idea of a joke, I advise you never to do it again,” I say, instead of unbuckling my seat belt and climbing into his lap. Other than causing an accident, I shouldn’t be throwing myself at him.
“The Lodge it is then,” he concludes.
He drives toward the hotel and helps me with my bags. Instead of asking the person behind the desk to get me a room, he does it himself. Once he’s ready, he walks with me to the elevator bank. I don’t know what I’m expecting him to do. However, I’m pleasantly surprised when he steps into the elevator with me.
We get off on the last floor and walk to one of the suites.
“You never asked for my credit card,” I say as he opens the door of my suite.
“We’re paying for your stay,” he assures me. “Just don’t break anything, or you’ll have to work in order to repay us.”
“Har, har. I already told you to stop those terrible jokes.”
“I’m not kidding.” He grins. “If you need anything, call room service or any of us.”
Before I can ask for his number so I can call him, he’s gone. And maybe that’s for the best. If I had his number, I’d be tempted to sext him. I shake my head, but when I step into the bedroom and look at the canopy bed, I wonder how he’d respond if I text, tie me up to the bed and make me scream your name.
My mouth goes dry just thinking about the things we could do in this bed. In fact, I want a bed like this one. I should order one for my house, just in case I invite him to a sleepover with me.
Well, now I’m delirious.
Chapter Nine
Darren
The same day I arrived in Baker’s Creek, I checked on patients at the medical practice. Hayes wasn’t kidding when he said they were busy. The following day we had another wave of patients, and one of them happened to pay me with a casserole. Since I’m bone-tired, I order a bottle of wine, a fork, and dessert. I doubt I’m going to eat the whole dish of bacon mac-and-cheese. Still, this beats going downstairs.
I appreciate that the Aldridges accommodate me but charging them for my meals doesn’t feel right. My furniture is supposed to arrive by Saturday, and I hope it shows. I have a terrible feeling. Something is nagging at me, and the feeling gets worse as my phone rings and Mom’s name flashes on the screen.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Please tell me you’re joking,” she says.
“Hello to you too,” I try to redirect the conversation because I’m about to fall asleep from exhaustion.
“What do you mean by ‘I got a new job’?”