all the way to her apartment in the wind that had begun to howl outside the clinic like a wild animal.
Without a coat.
* * *
“Let’s check on the puppies, get you bundled back up and see if we can’t get some food,” Ethan said, tossing his new companion a sweet smile. “I could go for some dinner myself.”
While that was definitely true—his stomach had been protesting against its emptiness since he’d seen his last patient, and that had been hours ago—there was another reason, equal in weight to the first, that he’d suggested leaving the office and grabbing something to eat.
That reason was June Leavy.
A few hours before, his life in Peach Leaf had been simple and clear, intentionally so.
This morning, he’d woken with a relatively muddled head for the first time since leaving Colorado.
Since he’d left her.
Sure, he still thought about his ex a few times a day still; that was perfectly normal following the demise of a serious relationship. But aside from those few painful moments, things had actually started to look up, and he’d gotten into a comfortable groove. Wake up and go for an early run, shower and eat breakfast, arrive at the clinic before sunrise to relieve the night technician and check on the overnight patients, work through his father’s back-to-back appointments, breaking only for a quick lunch, and then go home after he’d completed evening rounds and closed up. He’d say goodbye to the staff and head home, too tired to think. Working from dark sky to dark sky suited him at this odd juncture in his life. The routine kept him busy and, most importantly, left little time for ruminating over all he’d left behind.
At least it had, until that evening, when June Leavy had burst through the door, literally bringing with her a blast of fresh air.
The image made him smile. As cold as it had been when she’d walked in, June was about as different from his frosty ex as she could be—a truth he didn’t really want to examine closely.
But as beautiful as June was, as sweet and warm as he could clearly see she was even in the limited time they’d spent together, the truth remained that her presence was simply not welcome.
She filled the room in a way that, while extremely pleasant—intoxicating, even—made him uncomfortable. Tall, bright in color and in mood and lively, June was impossible to ignore. Sharing a cup of tea with her had been difficult enough, but offering to let her stay the night—something he’d had no choice but to do on account of the growing danger outside—was going to take an iron will.
He didn’t want her in his clinic, didn’t want her on his mind. Being in the same room with her for the past while, as warm as she made him feel, he’d almost forgotten about the blizzard wailing away outside.
All of which was dangerous. What he needed was space, and a clear head.
Taking June for a bite to eat was the perfect solution. They were both hungry, and it would give him a chance to get a grip on whatever spark she’d ignited within him. Plus, he’d like to check on his father’s business neighbors—the couple who owned the German bakery next door had been there for years and were close with his dad. They were elderly, and it would be good to make sure they were holding up through the freak snowstorm.
A blast of frigid air would do him good, and then he could figure out how to handle himself around June for the rest of the evening.
Things came to mind. So many things.
None of them realistic, or even appropriate for that matter.
A guy like him was in no position to be picturing those endless legs curled up next to his on the office sofa, for example, or better yet, wrapped around his middle as he kissed the daylights out of those undoubtedly soft lips and...
No. He couldn’t let himself go there. Not again. It was stupid enough that he’d allowed his thoughts to wander this far. It seemed any time he ventured away from work for five minutes, he landed in trouble. He didn’t want to be the sort of man who was so easily distracted by a pretty face and a pair of killer legs.
He looked up to find the object of his musings worrying her bottom lip as she studied him.
It wasn’t sexy, the way she did that. Not at all.
The resultant swelling of those soft pink clouds did not affect him. Not in the least.
Also, he needed to check the thermostat—had it gotten warmer inside the clinic?
“So, what kind of place is it?” June asked, her cheeks slightly more flushed than they’d been when she first came in from the wind. Surely she wasn’t...she couldn’t possibly be having similar thoughts to the ones he’d been entertaining. The idea was absurd. He’d been radiating a cool demeanor and a general leave me alone, I’m busy attitude for weeks now that would put off any woman. More likely, she was just in a hurry to get out of there as much as he was.
“I mean what kind of food do they have?”
“Oh, well, there’s the rub,” he answered, trying not to get distracted again by those wicked lips, which had reddened to a pretty ruby shade—from the cold or from her nibbling, he no longer cared.
And what difference did it make, anyway?
It certainly didn’t matter that they looked good enough to feast on himself, like fresh cherries ripe for the picking.
Dammit!
What the hell had they been talking about again?
“The rub?”
Ah, yes.
“It’s just a little German bakery, you see. So we won’t be able to get any real dinner. We’ll have to skip straight to dessert. Hopefully it’ll do until the weather lets up and you have a chance to head on your way.” A thought that disturbed him far more than he cared to acknowledge.
Something crossed her features very briefly—a shadowy hint of darkness, perhaps—and then disappeared.
Was it something he’d said that had so quickly stolen the light from her eyes?
He didn’t have time to figure it out before she spoke again.
“Oh, that’s right. How silly of me to forget. I’ve been working such weird hours the past few years that I haven’t been to Bauer’s in ages—I’d forgotten about the place until now.” Her features softened into wistfulness. “My mom used to take me there as a kid, on special occasions. They have the best pastry and...”
She blushed again and he wished to touch the crimson apples on her cheeks. He enjoyed her rambling—quite a lot actually. But what good would it do to say so? After that night, she would be gone and he would go back to his temporary, if somewhat lonely, life.
Still, it was nice to see her talk about something so obviously important to her; it was nice to see inside her just a little.
“Anyway, I’m rambling, but that will be just fine. I’m so hungry I really don’t care what we eat, as long as it passes for food.”
“And
