Still The One. Michelle Major

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Still The One - Michelle Major Mills & Boon Cherish

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stomach.

      Steph whistled under her breath. “Wowee, Lain, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a thong girl.”

      Within seconds Lainey’s cheeks were as hot as asphalt in the middle of August. “There’s no way …” She leaned in inches from the machine. “You can’t tell that’s a thong.”

      “Lots of dogs are partial to skivvies.” Steph traced the tip of one short nail along the X-ray. “But even twisted like that, there’s not enough fabric for regular undies. The question is who are you shopping at Victoria’s Secret to impress?”

      “Steph!” Lainey and Ethan shouted at once.

      Embarrassed beyond belief, Lainey made herself focus on Pita. She hitched her chin and turned to Ethan. “The question is can you get them out? I’m not sure I could take it if this killed her.”

      “Kinky,” Steph muttered.

      “Stephanie!” Lainey and Ethan yelled again.

      “I’m going to check on the patient,” Steph said.

      “Good idea.” Ethan ran his hands through his hair.

      “You’ve got about fifteen minutes until your first appointment.”

      Ethan nodded and closed the door. He turned to Lainey, trying hard not to think about the unmistakable lace shining in the light of the X-ray machine. “I’m going to give her something that will soften her digestive track, move the object through.”

      He prided himself on his emotional detachment from his patients, convinced the distance made him a more effective doctor. Maybe it was the fact that he’d gone without his morning caffeine fix. Or his body’s haywire reaction to Lainey. He felt punch-drunk with relief that her dog had a good chance at recovering.

      “Can I take her home?”

      “She needs to stay where we can monitor her. If there’s no progress by tonight, I’ll schedule her for surgery in the morning.”

      Her eyes widened. “Surgery?”

      “She can’t keep your panties … the obstruction needs to come out. It’s too dangerous otherwise.”

      She nodded but looked down.

      His insides coiled with frustration. He’d seen too much pain in her eyes—been the cause of most of it—to take any more. As much as he wanted to hate her, he couldn’t turn her away.

      Steph opened the door. “Edith McIntire and Bubbles are waiting in Exam Two.”

      Damn. “I’m coming.”

      “Can I see her?” Lainey’s voice was barely a whisper.

      “Of course. Leave your number with the front desk. I’ll call if anything changes.” He forced himself to turn away. “Steph, would you take her to the back?”

      “You bet.”

      As she moved past him, he grabbed Lainey’s arm. “I’ll take care of her.”

      Her chin bobbed.

      “She’s going to be okay,” he assured her. “I promise.”

      She sucked in a breath and recoiled as if he’d slapped her. He realized his mistake, but it was too late to take back the words. The same words he’d whispered to her in a hospital ten summers ago.

      Her eyes searched his. “You should have learned by now.” Her tone held no reproach, only sadness. “You shouldn’t make promises you don’t have the power to keep.”

      She walked out, but her voice pounded like a sledgehammer inside his head. He’d promised her the baby—his child—would be fine. But nothing had gone right that summer. She’d lost the baby, he’d lost her and neither of them had ever been the same.

      It took several minutes for his mind to clear enough to officially begin his morning. Even a full load of patients couldn’t stop thoughts of Lainey from consuming him. Her stiff shoulders and guarded expression, the sadness in her eyes.

      Lainey had left him high and dry, and part of him wanted her punished for it, but he’d also shared in the blame. He’d known about her crush on him and should have never gotten involved with her in the first place. He could have spared them both a world of heartache by just leaving her alone.

      The breakup with Julia had been a blow, more to his ego than his heart. They’d outgrown each other long before she’d dumped him. Still, his emotions had become numb, and being with Lainey made him feel so alive. Maybe he should have given her more, told her that he was falling in love with her, but every time he needed someone he ended up hurt.

      His own mother had abandoned him and his dad when Ethan was just a kid. He remembered sitting on the bed as she packed her overstuffed suitcase. She’d told him it was better for all of them, but Ethan’s father had made it very clear that the blame lay completely on Ethan’s narrow shoulders.

      He’d been shy, always staying close to his mom, who was the one person who made him feel safe. His boyish need had become too much for his free-spirited mother, his dad told him. She couldn’t handle being shackled in that way.

      He figured that was why his relationship with Lainey had been so mind-blowing—he’d needed her with an intensity he hadn’t felt for years. And despite his trying to hide it, she’d felt it, and the weight of his love proved too much yet again.

      He couldn’t rewrite the past, but if he could put aside his own pain and resentment and keep his need for her out of the equation—even for a few short weeks—he might have the chance to make amends for shattering both their lives.

      Once and for all.

      Downtown Brevia looked much the same as Lainey remembered. Redbrick buildings and Victorian-type storefronts with colorful awnings lined the main street. Instead of the pharmacy and family-owned furniture stores she knew growing up, signs for boutique-type clothing and craft retailers welcomed the overflow of tourists from the Smoky Mountains and nearby Asheville.

      She wondered absently how many of these new merchants were locals or whether some of them were recent transplants to the small southern town. Hoping for the latter, she reached for the door of the local newspaper, The Brevia Times. Vera had wanted her to meet the reporter who’d been the media contact for previous adoption fairs, and as nervous as Lainey was about facing anyone in Brevia, she needed to keep herself occupied and her mind off Pita.

      To her surprise, the man who leaned against the desk in the lobby was a familiar face. “Tim?” she asked with pleasure. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

      “Hey there.” Tim Reynolds, one of her closest high school friends, stepped forward to hug her. He looked a lot like he had back then, shaggy blond hair and small wire-rimmed glasses. Smart and serious, that was Tim. “I’m the editor of this little paper now. I heard you were coming in today and wanted to make sure you got a warm welcome.”

      Lainey released a nervous breath. “I thought you were in Atlanta.”

      He shrugged. “Brevia may not be much of a news hotbed, but it’s

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