A Doctor for Keeps Read online

  He nodded, uncomfortably. “Well, I better let my sitter go. Good night.”

  “Good night.” She still couldn’t bring herself to close the door, and instead she stood like a silly teenager, smitten with the mysterious man next door, watching him walk away.

  With Kent the last person she’d see for the night, she predicted she’d have extra sweet, and sexy, dreams.

  * * *

  The next morning Desi helped Gerda brush her hair and twist it into a bun.

  “How do people take medicine all the time?” Gerda said. “All I want to do is sleep.”

  “That’s why it’s called a sedative, Grandma. And you’re not supposed to live on them, only take them when you need to. Like now.”

  Gerda reached behind for Desi’s forearm and squeezed. “I love it when you call me Grandma.” She wasn’t sure when the term had entered her vocabulary, but now that Gerda had pointed it out, it did feel good.

  Desi bent forward and hugged her around the shoulders. “Ready for breakfast?”

  Making sure Gerda was steady enough on her feet to take the stairs down to the kitchen, Desi held her by the waist and hand. “Oatmeal? Eggs? What’s it going to be?”

  “How about some tea and toast.”

  “Ah, the breakfast of champions, I see.” Not a very hardy way to start the day, but considering Gerda had barely eaten at all yesterday, this was progress, and Desi wasn’t about to push the point.

  Zipping around the kitchen in old stretched-out sweats and a hoodie, Desi made them both breakfast then washed the dishes and set up Gerda in the screened back porch, the room Gerda called the sunroom, to rest and read some magazines. She opted not to bring up the mind-blowing topic of conversation from last night, wondering if Gerda even remembered it. Maybe she thought she’d dreamed it, but one thing was sure: this morning Gerda hadn’t uttered another word about the role of Captain Jack in Heartlandia.

  Finally ready to head upstairs to shower, Desi hustled toward the living room, her hand on the banister, ready to swing around the bend, when the doorbell rang. She checked the grandfather clock across the entryway. It was only eight-fifteen. With her hair a straggly mess, feet bare, and wearing seriously old gray sweats, she swung the door open.

  There stood Kent, fresh as a cover model, in a pale blue tailored button-down shirt, patterned tie and navy slacks that fit those narrow hips perfectly. She wanted to purr and scream at the same time. She gulped instead. “Hi!”

  “Hey. Just dropped Steven off at summer day camp and thought I’d check on Gerda before I head off to the clinic.”

  She also wanted to run for cover, pull the hood over her head and hunch over so he couldn’t see her unwashed face. But she did the right thing and led him down the hall to the sunny porch.

  Gerda’s expression brightened the instant Kent stepped outside. Whose wouldn’t? The guy was a dream machine with that square jaw and naturally hooded set of bedroom eyes.

  “How’re you doing today?” He went directly to Gerda, pulling out his stethoscope and a small machine from his briefcase.

  “Is this a house call? For me?”

  “Just checking up on my favorite neighbor.”

  Gerda smiled and let him listen to her heart then take her blood pressure.

  “Much better. One-thirty over eighty-five.”

  “I’m usually less than that.”

  Desi enjoyed the view of his back and broad shoulders as he leaned over Gerda. The view of his backside in those perfectly fitted slacks nearly made Desi’s mouth drop.

  “We’re working our way down, but keep taking the sedative today. Be sure to eat and drink lots of fluids. Okay?” He stood up, affording Desi the vision of those amazing buns at work. “I’ll check in again when I get home today.”

  He turned and smiled at Desi, and comparing his gorgeousness with her morning frumpiness, she wanted to dissolve into the antique braided oval rug.

  “Take good care of her.”

  “She has been,” Gerda broke in. “I’m getting spoiled.”

  “Thanks, Grandma.”

  “When I was a kid and got sick, Gerda always brought over homemade soup.” Kent smiled at his patient, then looked toward Desi, making her bare toes curl with embarrassment.

  “You were such a healthy kid, I always worried when you actually got sick.”

  “That’s exactly how I feel about you, Gerda. Hey, I know a chef who makes great chicken gumbo soup. I’ll bring some by for your dinner. How’s that?”

  “My mother always taught me to never argue with a handsome man.” Gerda’s candid reply made Desi know for a fact the morning’s sedative had kicked in.

  Kent actually seemed flustered, as if he wasn’t prepared to hear that from Gerda. He must have been told how good-looking he was, probably by gazillions of women, but maybe never from a seventysomething matriarch of Heartlandia before. Hey, the woman might be under stress, but she was far from dead.

  Hard to believe he didn’t have a clue about his effect on women.

  Desi smiled inside as she let Kent see himself out. She’d endured enough humiliation over her appearance today. Why add another fifteen or twenty seconds walking him to the door? Instead, she stood at the sunroom entrance and followed him with her stare, a straight shot down the hall. There really was something special about a man whose good looks hadn’t gone to his head.

  Desi scrubbed her face with her hands. What the heck was she doing letting her crush get bigger? It couldn’t turn into anything. Neither of them was in the right place, and who was she to think he’d give her the time of day if she proclaimed her crush anyway?

  Well, there was that amazing kiss…that he’d instigated…

  This line of thinking was entirely too heavy for eight-thirty in the morning, and she barreled up the stairs to shower and dress. No way would Kent find her a mess when he returned with dinner tonight.

  * * *

  Back with dinner as he’d promised, Kent showed up at six-thirty. Only problem was, taking care of a sedated Gerda had been a really huge job. Along with canceling all of her mayoral appointments for the day, Desi had cleared her calendar for Monday, too.

  Desi had wound up taking a second shower when she’d helped her grandmother bathe. During lunch she’d managed to spill more than eat. Desi had to spoon-feed her tea that afternoon since she could barely keep her eyes open.

  Maybe it was time to cut her off those sedatives.

  When Desi opened the door for Kent, he held a large carton that smelled heavenly. She knew she looked frazzled and her hair was askew with tiny curls overpowering waves, and she’d forgotten to put a speck of makeup on. What a mess.

  He smiled anyway. “Cliff Lincoln said to say hello. He made a special batch of chicken gumbo for Gerda, too.”

  Desi reminded herself what a small town Heartlandia was. “Thanks. You staying?”

  “Nope. Friday night is pizza-and-video night with Steven. Transformers awaits.”

  “Well, it certainly was sweet of you to look after Gerda like this.”

  “She’s been the one solid person in my life during all its changes. First my sister moved away from home. Then my parents moved to Bend.” He got sullen as he handed her the bag of food, but only briefly. “And you know the rest of the story. Anyway, through it all your grandmother was always there for me. This is the least I can do.”

  “It smells great. I’ll be sure to let Cliff know how much we enjoyed it.”

  “He threw in some of his cheddar cheese biscuits and fried okra, too.” Kent cracked a smile that nearly made Desi drop the soup. “He said the okra was for you.”

  She sputtered a laugh, getting the inside joke. Cliff was a big tease, but awfully sweet. “He knows I’m out of touch on the soul-food train.”

  Her mouth watered, but not for the okra. There was that smile lingering on those handsomely formed lips. Right now she imagined what it would be like to kiss Kent Larson again. The thought ran through her body like warm gumbo sliding
down the throat.

  A pizza truck pulled to the curb in front of Kent’s house.

  “Gotta go,” he said, breaking the lingering look, rushing down the porch steps and across the yard.

  * * *

  Saturday morning, again before nine, Kent showed up on the doorstep. This time Desi was ready for him. She’d gotten up extra early, showered and put on her newest jeans and favorite red top. She was barefoot again but had given herself a pedicure after putting Gerda to bed last night. She’d also spent plenty of time with her trusty curling iron to make sure her hair was styled into submission.

  She opened the door with a flourish, the way she imagined Clair Huxtable might. Yes, she’d watched The Cosby Show reruns while polishing her toes last night. When she was a kid she used to pretend she was part of their family. “Hi!” She smiled with all of her heart, knowing her red lip gloss sparkled.

  She immediately noticed his favorable response, the glint in his eyes and the slow and thorough scan from her toes up to her head. Oh, yeah, he liked what he saw. “Hey.”

  Unlike his usual, he wore casual clothes—gray athletic shorts, loose white T-shirt and sports trainers—and he looked fit and fantastic with muscular legs and arms lightly dusted in blond hair.

  “She’s in the kitchen. Come in.” Desi turned and took off, knowing how perfectly her jeans fit and giving Kent some of his own medicine. And yes, she wasn’t above exaggerating her walk. Just a little.

  Kent pulled his stethoscope and the small automatic blood-pressure monitor from his backpack and did his thing again. Desi looked on, noticing his long fingers and the size of his palms. The guy was a giant. Yet he couldn’t have been gentler with her grandmother.

  “You can cut back on the sedatives today. Just take half a dose. Then tomorrow, if your blood pressure is still normal, I’ll let you stop taking them altogether.”

  “I like your plan, my good man,” Gerda said. Desi had gotten used to her grandmother being more loose-lipped the past two days, but Kent’s amused expression reminded her this was a different Gerda Rask. “By the way, that was the most delicious soup.”

  “She had two bowls,” Desi said. “I nearly had to fight her to get my share.”

  “That’s great. So your stomach is doing better, too, huh?”

  Gerda nodded. “I got a lot off my chest the other night. My stomach is better for it.”

  Desi knew exactly what Gerda referred to. They hadn’t broached the subject of her mother or grandfather, or pirates and city-council promises since Thursday night. Still, she was glad to have helped relieve some of the stress by being a good listener when her grandmother needed her.

  “Okay, but you still need to take the stomach meds until it runs out. Gastritis takes a while to heal.”

  “Aye, aye, captain.” Gerda snickered.

  Oh, yeah, she remembered their talk.

  As Desi walked with Kent to the door, besides thinking what a good man he was, she treated herself to a second long look at his muscular legs and well-developed calves. She could only imagine what the rest of him looked like. A thorough vision sprang up and the thought sent a hot rush to her face. She’d let her imagination take her too far.

  “Where’re you headed?” she asked, quickly getting her breathing under control.

  “Steven’s in a basketball league. He’s got two games today.” The more Desi found out about Kent, the more she liked. He was a totally engaged parent, which probably explained why Steven was such a great kid despite the runaway mother. “If Gerda didn’t need you, I’d invite you along.”

  “That’s sweet, but I thought I was supposed to avoid Steven.”

  Kent stopped halfway out the front door. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. How it was different with you being his piano teacher.” He took her hand, surprising her—but in a good way—as impulses as warm as melted butter on pancakes worked their way up her wrist and arm. “The kid deserves to have fun, and if you’re the one who makes him happy, that’s all the better. I overreacted. I apologize.”

  Would surprises ever cease! Maybe she wouldn’t have to be on guard every time she was around Steven, and maybe, just maybe, Kent was warming to her company, too?

  She didn’t want to draw too much attention to his apology and put him on the spot, so she went the flippant route. “Does that mean I can date your son again?” She blinked repeatedly for emphasis, desperately needing to lighten the sexy feelings overtaking her from the mere fact that he held her hand.

  He laughed. Yes, it worked! “That’s taking the cougar thing way too far, isn’t it?” He squeezed her hand then let go.

  Maybe she’d gone a little too far and should make things completely clear. “So I can give your son a hug without getting dagger eyes from you now, right?”

  “I never gave you—”

  She imitated the way he’d looked at her, and he got her point.

  “Right.”

  “Thanks.” Making progress with Kent and Steven gave her spirits a boost.

  “And maybe he isn’t the only one you can hug.”

  With her breath suddenly stolen, she looked into his eyes. That überblue stare nearly undid her as she took in the significance of what he’d said. She could hug Kent, too.

  And he hugged her, briefly, but long enough to wake up any lazy nerve endings throughout her body.

  Not knowing where to take the conversation next, and thinking it might be best to leave well enough alone, she went for the mundane. “Well, have fun and I hope your team wins.”

  “Thanks. It’d be even more fun if you could come,” he said halfway down the front steps.

  That definitely sounded as if he’d had a change of heart. First she was no longer banished from Steven, then she could give both father and son hugs as needed, and now an invitation. “Next time?” Fingers crossed.

  He kept going. Maybe he was already too far away and hadn’t heard her?

  Or maybe she’d taken his coming around to her way of thinking beyond his meaning and he conveniently didn’t hear her. There was nothing like a dose of reality from being ignored by a proud man walking to his car to put things back into perspective. A man who also happened to be the king of mixed messages.

  * * *

  Kent hung up the phone with Amanda Sunday afternoon. She’d gotten a stomach bug and wouldn’t be able to watch Steven. He had the four-to-ten shift tonight, and the last thing he needed was sitter trouble.

  He thought about calling Gunnar, in case he was free, but first he needed to go check on Gerda.

  It had been hard to see Desi every day, when, if he knew what was good for him, he should put her out of his mind. What was that lame invitation to Steven’s basketball game about? He’d been ping-ponging back and forth on Desi ever since he’d met her. His gut told him to go for it, but his brain kept putting on the brakes.

  He felt a little like that cartoon character with the devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other. Bottom line, he really needed to figure out what he wanted for Steven and himself first, and then he’d know how to handle adding a woman back into the mix. He was a father now, not a carefree bachelor like Gunnar, who could chase any woman he wanted. Kent was a package deal.

  But hadn’t Desi said something the other night about having to roll with things sometimes? He couldn’t begin to wrap his brain around that concept. It was so not him.

  Yet every single time he’d encountered her the past few days, no matter how dressed up or messed up she’d been, she’d taken his breath away. Not good for a man trying to stay on the straight and narrow. A man trying with everything he had to make a normal life for Steven. Family had to come before pleasure.

  He tapped on the front door and was surprised and disappointed when Gerda opened it. But considering his mixed-up, messed-up thoughts about Desi, he could use a break.

  “Kent! Come in.”

  “You look great, Gerda.” He glanced up when Desi was halfway down the stairs. The July sun had warmed up the tempe
rature, and the sight of her smooth, mocha-colored legs beneath olive-green shorts almost made him drop his stethoscope. “Hey.”

  “Hey, yourself.” She had that playful glint in her eyes that made him wonder if she could read his mind.

  He tore away his gaze and escorted Gerda to the couch. “Let’s check your blood pressure, okay?”

  While he did so, Desi sat on the arm of the couch. Her legs had looked great from across the room, but up close? Man, it took all his willpower to keep his hands to himself.

  “You’re back to normal,” he told Gerda. “Feeling better?”

  “Yes. All better. Thank you so much.”

  His cell phone rang. It was Amanda. “Excuse me. I’ve got to take this.” Unfortunately, she hadn’t come through with a substitute babysitter. “Okay, well, thanks for trying. We’ll see you Tuesday afternoon.”

  What was he going to do? He grew serious as he bundled up the blood-pressure machine.

  “You look bothered about something,” Gerda said.

  “I’ve got sitter problems, and I’m due to work from four to ten tonight.”

  “I’d be glad to watch Steven for you.” Desi spoke right up.

  No, he couldn’t do that…but exactly why not?

  “Now that I’m better, there’s no reason Desi can’t watch him. Hey, he can have dinner here with us, then she can take him home for his bath and bedtime.”

  “And I’ll make sure he practices his scales. What do you say?”

  This wasn’t at all what he’d expected to happen when he came over. His smarter self wanted to wait and put a call in to Gunnar before he committed. Truth was, he knew Steven would have a much better time hanging out with Desi and Gerda than at that old bachelor pad of Gunnar’s. If he wasn’t working, Gunnar probably had a hot date tonight, since his whole world seemed to revolve around his main mistress, his job, and all the other women in town after that.

  Kent made a snap decision. “You know what? That would be great. I really appreciate it.”

  “It’s sort of like paying you back for all of these house calls,” Desi said, tucking some hair behind her ear, making Kent want to do the same to the other side just for the excuse to touch her.