The Wedding Crasher and the Cowboy Page 13

  “Here you go, Doctor.” He handed her the stethoscope and retrieved a lab coat hanging on the back of the office door. “Now you’re part of the team. Let’s do this.”

  Kennedy slipped her arms through the coat and placed the medical instrument around her neck with a huge smile on her face. She worked beside Doc and she worked on her own, meeting townspeople of all ages, hearing gossip, and being asked a million questions about herself. She now had several people crossing their fingers for her to get the job in Boston.

  At around two o’clock, another wave of patients stopped by the office. Doc saw walk-ins on Tuesday afternoons, another reason he needed Kennedy in his nurse’s absence. Typically, he saw a handful of people, but looking out at the crowded waiting room today, he said, “You’re good for business, Dr. Martin.”

  “Do you think they’re all sick?”

  “No, I think they’re all nosy, with the exception of Mrs. Freed. She’s been fighting a sinus infection. Why don’t you start with her?”

  “I can take the heat,” she countered, not afraid of more prying. Being interrogated took her mind off cowboys, grooms, and a dream job across the country.

  Chapter Twelve

  Four days until the wedding

  A few hours later, Kennedy rubbed the tiny glass ladybug Mary Rose had given her between her fingers. The gift meant more to her than she could say, and right now she needed some good news—she needed the ER job on the other side of the country so she’d have distance from her family.

  She stared down at her phone. At the text her mom had sent a few minutes ago, wiping out Kennedy’s happy mood from an afternoon spent in Doc’s office.

  Andrew sat back down in the cushioned chair next to hers on their patio and handed her a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie from the inn’s kitchen.

  “Thanks,” she said without lifting her head from her cell.

  “Staring at it isn’t going to change it.”

  “You want to try?” She held the phone up to his face.

  “You know I’d make those words disappear if I could.”

  “I know.” She dropped her arm, took a big bite of the soft cookie. It tasted delicious, and it helped make her feel a little better. “I can’t believe them. I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “There are three hundred and sixty five days in a year and they have to pick my birthday to get married?”

  “It sucks.”

  “I’ll be reminded of their wedding day every freaking year when it should be a day for me. Not to be selfish, but come on. This is completely insensitive given the circumstances. Not that I care about them getting married anymore—I’m over it. They deserve each other. But it isn’t fair for them to ruin my birthday, too.”

  “No one said life was fair.”

  She glared at him.

  He raised his hands in defense. “Just saying. And you know, it goes both ways. They’ll be reminded of your birthday every year on their anniversary.”

  “We both know that’s not true.” Her self-centered sister cared about one thing: herself. She probably didn’t even realize February twenty-fifth was Kennedy’s birthday. Kennedy wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse. “And what happened to getting married next summer?”

  Andrew shrugged, sympathy written all over his face.

  Kennedy stared off toward the mountains and the setting sun. “My mom could have at least called me rather than texted. I love how she gives me news like this as if it’s no big deal, an afterthought, even. She still resents me for living with my dad a million years ago, and that’s never going to change.” Blowing out a big breath, she sank deeper into the chair and finished her cookie. “This is why Reed shouldn’t get married unless he’s one hundred percent sure. Divorce sucks.”

  “Agreed.” Andrew stretched out his long legs. “How about we stay in tonight and play cards?”

  “That’s nice of you, but I know you want to go to the hoedown. I think I’ll take a walk instead and then a hot bath. You have fun and when you get back, you can fill me in.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “You look too handsome to miss it.”

  He jumped to his feet. “I do. Don’t I?”

  Jeans, a light green collared shirt, his dirty blond hair combed to the side, he could definitely pass for a Hemsworth.

  “I’ll see you later,” she said.

  As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, she exchanged her heels for sneakers and slipped out the small patio gate. She had maybe an hour of sunlight left, so she took a walk across the neatly manicured grass, the sound of country music in the distance. She wandered in the opposite direction, toward the stable, then strolled inside the dimly lit building, the air cool with both the front and back doors open. She admired the animals from afar, then resumed walking. Down the private well-packed dirt road lined with evergreens, toward Maverick’s house. She told herself it was because she wanted to see the puppies.

  His truck was parked near the horse fence and lights were on inside. She had no idea what she was doing until she bypassed the front door and tiptoed around the house and through the sloped flowerbed to peek through the living room window. Apparently she’d turned into a weirdo who couldn’t muster up the courage—or maybe it was strength—to talk to the owner of the puppies. It made her mad, yet she didn’t backtrack. Instead she bumped her forehead on the glass as she tried to see Barley and her babies.

  There they were, cuddled together without a care in the world. Must be nice.

  She stood there like a peeping Tom as guilt and embarrassment wormed their way inside her head. She was being ridiculous.

  At the sound of a twig breaking, she whirled around. And bumped right into a hard body. Just like the other day, she lost her balance, and Maverick caught her to keep her steady. This time, though, they were chest to chest, his arms around her waist. On the sloped ground, his handsome face was right there.

  Neither of them spoke. Their cheeks brushed. Kennedy turned her head slightly, grazed her nose against his. His breath mingled with hers. She swallowed the thick bundle of nerves coating the back of her throat.

  Their eyes held, his a stormier blue than she’d ever seen before. She didn’t know what kind of storm, only that she didn’t mind it. Not one bit. She enjoyed every reaction she got out of him.

  One centimeter farther and their mouths would meet. She’d get to feel his lips on hers, discover if he’d kiss her in frustration or because he wondered what she tasted like, too. Her heart hammered and she was curious if he felt it. Maybe if she didn’t say how much she wanted to explore this connection between them, he wouldn’t deny her. Although words had never seemed to sway Maverick Owens, one way or the other.

  “Um…” she muttered, figuring she should at least acknowledge she’d been caught snooping.

  Maverick looked into her eyes, that storm she saw in his baby blues waging a battle. She held her ground. Willed her muscles to relax. Not a hard thing to do when she wanted to melt against him.

  “What are you doing here, Shortcake?” His voice, deep and low, resonated with more than one meaning. He knew. He knew, even if she didn’t, that she was here for more than one reason.

  “I, uh…” she breathed out. Speaking when they were nose to nose proved difficult. Just kiss me and put us both out of our misery. He read minds, right?

  “You, uh…?” He intended to make her say it, damn him.

  Or she could just kiss him.

  Yeah, that sounded like a much better idea than answering his question.

  Slowly, carefully, purposefully, she brushed her lips against his. His piercing gaze made her shiver, but she’d started this expedition and she planned to finish it. Whether he liked it or not.

  And he’d like it.

  She pressed her mouth more firmly to his, testi
ng the waters. Ready to drown if he’d just give her the sign. And then he did. He moved his mouth against hers. Eyes wide open, he kissed her. Watched her. Kissed and watched her as their lips connected in a slow dance of getting-to-know-this-part-of-you. Her hips moved of their own accord, rubbing against his body. Closer. She wanted to be closer, to crawl inside him and stay there until all his walls came crashing down.

  He kissed her like she was something new, something breakable, and she was both those things. Because the last forty-eight hours had been unexpectedly welcome in a way she’d never known. Or anticipated.

  But just as they were about to get to the good stuff and part their lips, he pulled back with a pained expression on his face. “What are you doing here?” he asked again.

  They disengaged farther, space swelling between them. He took a step to the left and she took a step to the right. She guessed they were going to pretend the kiss never happened. She guessed, sadly, he might already regret it.

  “I wanted to see the puppies.”

  “And you decided to sneak around because…?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. I suppose I wanted to get a peek at them and then leave without having to see you, too.” Which did nothing to explain why she also wanted to kiss him. This situation confused the crap out of her.

  “Okay, you good to go, then?”

  No. She wasn’t good to go, and she most definitely wasn’t good to go and let him win this tug-of-war. “Well, since I’ve been caught, mind if I come in for a better look?”

  He combed his fingers through his hair like he wanted to pull the thick locks out. “Next time just knock, okay?”

  She drew an X over her heart. “Promise.” An easy guarantee, since she didn’t plan on visiting him again anytime soon. He’d left his front door open and gestured for her to enter before him. “How did you know I was out there? I thought I was exceptionally quiet.”

  “I saw you the second you walked up. There’s a window in the kitchen with a view of the road. When you didn’t knock right away, I figured you were up to no good.”

  She swatted him in the arm. “Thanks a lot.”

  He closed the door behind him. “I was right, wasn’t I?”

  Rather than answer him, she wandered over to the dogs. “How are they doing?”

  “Good, for the most part.” He took the spot right beside her, their arms brushing. “I just got back from the vet and Barley checked out well.”

  “But…”

  “But one of the pups was restless earlier. She’s having a hard time feeding, so for the next day or two, I’ll help out.”

  “I could, too, you know.” When he didn’t say anything, she added, “I mean, if you’re busy with work around the ranch, I’m happy to stop by to bottle-feed her. I’ve fed many babies in the hospital and feel confident I could handle it.” So much for not visiting him again.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” He was just appeasing her, the big lug.

  “I’m assuming the different colored ribbons around their necks are so you can tell them apart?” All the puppies had fluffy, golden fur and pointed ears like their mama.

  “Exactly. Pinky there is the one I’m a little worried about.”

  The sweet concern was such a juxtaposition to Maverick’s rugged stature that she was once again reminded he had layers she knew nothing about.

  They watched the sleeping family in silence until Maverick turned and headed into the kitchen.

  She walked back toward the front door. “I guess I’ll be go— Is that sushi?” she asked, veering away from the door and into the kitchen where two take-out cartons sat open. Recently opened, by the fact that they looked untouched. “Since when do you like sushi?”

  “Since always.”

  This new information made no sense. He was a steak and potatoes kind of guy. Right? She leaned against the counter across from him. She loved sushi. “Windsong doesn’t seem like a sushi kind of town.”

  “It’s not.” He filled a glass with water from the dispenser on the front of his fridge, then a second glass, and carried them to the counter.

  “Thanks.” She accepted the tumbler he handed her. “I’m sorry I interrupted your magical dinner, then.”

  His lips curled slightly. Lips she would never look at the same way again. “Nice” did not do them justice anymore. She absently touched her bottom lip, remembering the way her body had tingled when they’d kissed.

  “Cole had an appointment in Rustic Creek and grabbed it for me.”

  “So he’s the nice brother.” At Maverick’s raised eyebrow, she continued. “Cole is nice. Hunter is outgoing. And you’re…you’re prickly.”

  “You sure that’s the word you want to go with when you’re hoping to share my dinner? Not to mention I’m the one who knows you haven’t been invited—”

  “Okay, fine. You’re nice, too.”

  He bit back a smile, darn it. No dimples for her. But he did grab a couple of napkins and push the containers of sushi to the center of the counter. “Have at it.”

  She didn’t need to be invited twice.

  They stood at his counter, ate spicy tuna rolls and some delicious crab-shrimp combo roll, and let the silence guide their thoughts. There was something intimate about eating this way, simply standing in his kitchen and using their fingers to share a meal. When Maverick focused on his food, she took in the open space with high ceilings, noticing for the first time a passport and travel guide for Europe sitting at the end of the counter.

  “Are you planning a trip somewhere?” she asked.

  His face pinched like he wished he’d put away the evidence out in plain view. “How’d it go with Doc today?”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

  “Do I want to talk about what?”

  “The reason you answered my question with a question that had nothing to do with travel.”

  “I think it’s obvious.” He popped a piece of sushi into his mouth. When he’d finished chewing he said, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Why not?” At his pained expression, she decided to take pity on him. “Okay, how about this: we exchange information.”

  “There’s nothing I need to know,” he said plainly.

  “There’s absolutely nothing else you’d like to know about me? Gee, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She ate her sushi and scowled at him. A minute of painful—although introspective—silence later, she’d figured out the reason for his grumpy attitude. “I think the trip has something to do with Nicole and that’s why you don’t want to talk about it.”

  He choked on his spicy tuna.

  “Sorry. You know I can’t let things go. And for what it’s worth, I do care about your answers; I’m not just trying to irritate you.”

  He took a long pull of his water. “And yet—”

  “Stop.” She held up her hand. “No need to finish that thought. I’m only trying to make conversation, and your passport is right there, so you can’t really blame me for asking. How about we Rock Paper Scissors?”

  “For what?”

  “If I win, we talk, and if you win, you pick what we do.”

  “What we do?” he asked, amused.

  “Yep.” Let him stew on that one-word answer. She had no place to be and had no problem wearing out her welcome. Not with him.

  “Best two of three?” He put out his fist.

  She made a fist and extended it. “Sure.”

  “On three,” he said. “One…two…three.” He made a rock. She made paper. He immediately counted again. On three, she did a repeat of paper. He made scissors. Dang it. They were tied now. They studied each other for a moment. She didn’t know why, but she felt certain he planned to do paper, which meant she needed to do scissors.

  And that’s what he did.
>
  Yes! Rather than gloat out loud, she grabbed another piece of sushi and contemplated her next question. To his credit, Maverick took the loss in stride, eating another piece himself and then waiting for her. Like he knew her mind was at work.

  “Are you going somewhere Nicole wanted to go?”

  “Yes.”

  “By yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  Okay, time to ask a question that didn’t have a “yes” or “no” answer. “When are you leaving?”

  He leaned his elbows on the counter, leading her to believe her questions exhausted him and he needed the support. His forearms were strong. His hands big and masculine. “In twelve days.”

  “Oh wow.” She hadn’t expected that answer. “So soon.”

  “It’s been planned for a while.”

  They reached for pieces of sushi at the same time, their fingers brushing, and a shock of electricity skated up her arm. “How long are you going for?”

  “Two to three months.” Another answer she hadn’t considered. “So, a job in Boston?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “Fingers crossed.” She lifted her free hand and crossed her fingers. She really hoped to hear from Dr. Weaver before the end of the week.

  “You haven’t applied anywhere else?”

  “No. This position came up and I really want it.”

  “It’s a long way from home.”

  “That’s part of the reason I want it.”

  “The engaged sister thing,” he stated, obviously good at reading between the lines.

  She touched her finger to the tip of her nose. “I don’t know how to be around her or my mom anymore, and it stresses me out when we’re together. I will miss my other sister, Ava, though. She’s starting her senior year at UCLA next month. And Hugo and Andrew.”

  When Maverick didn’t say anything else, she steered the conversation back to him. “Are you excited for your trip?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going back to favorite places or visiting new ones?”

  “Both, but mostly…” He glanced at his passport. “I made a promise to Nicole to visit the places we didn’t get to see together, so those are at the top of the list.”