How to Marry a Doctor (Celebrations, Inc.) Read online

  He set the drinks on the table and they sat quietly as they watched the skaters float by in pairs.

  “Do you have any hobbies? Or do you play any sports?”

  “I like basketball.”

  It made sense. He was tall and moved well. So, okay. Good. Now they were getting somewhere.

  “When I’m playing, I always wonder why the basketball keeps getting bigger, and then it hit me.”

  She blinked at him. The guy just couldn’t stop. She was going to kill Jake. Why in the world would he fix her up with an amateur comedian?

  “So I imagine that right about now, you want to throw something at me, don’t you?” he said.

  Yes.

  She smiled and shrugged.

  “If you do, I hope you’ll make it a soda—”

  “Because it’s a soft drink,” Anna finished. She shook her head.

  Okay. That’s enough. There was being a good sport and then there was being a martyr. Was this the kind of guy Jake saw her with? Just what part of this did he think she would find attractive? No offense to Joe. He was a good guy and would make the right woman happy—hysterically happy. But he wasn’t for her. Clearly, her heart was somewhere else.

  “So, Jake told me you’re divorced,” Joe said. Even though this was a topic Anna generally wouldn’t want to talk about with a stranger, and certainly not on a first date, it was Joe’s first real attempt to make conversation that wasn’t a setup for a pun.

  “I am. The divorce was official a month ago, but we’ve been broken up for about two years now.”

  Joe stared at his hands for a moment.

  When he looked up, Anna saw something that resembled vulnerability in his eyes.

  “It’s only been six months for me,” he said. “Does it get easier?”

  So that explained it—his nervousness, his need to cover up by making dumb jokes. Well, maybe that was just part of his personality. But she felt bad for the guy. He was obviously hurting.

  “It does. It just takes time. If it makes you feel any better, you are my first date since my divorce.”

  And Jake was your first kiss.

  Knock it off, Anna. Stay in the moment.

  Joe’s eyes lit up the way they did when he was about to bomb her with a bad joke. Anna held up her hand and he stopped.

  “Joe, you’re a nice guy, and I can’t deny that you are just as rusty at this as I am. But the jokes and the puns...maybe use them like salt and pepper?”

  He looked sheepish.

  “I don’t mean to be a bitch. Really, I don’t. Can you just think of it as—?”

  She started to say tough love, but she didn’t want to give him the wrong idea.

  “Think of it as a friend being brutally honest.”

  Had Jake planned on dishing out a heaping helping of brutal honesty when he’d asked her to lunch today?

  “You’re right,” he said. “I appreciate your brutal honesty. I guess it might be a little too soon for me to be getting out there again. Obviously.”

  “You’ll be a fun date when you are finally ready,” said Anna. She wanted to add, when you meet the right woman, but she was sure he already knew that.

  The couples’ skate ended, the lights were restored to their earlier brightness and a faster, decidedly less romantic tune sounded from the speakers.

  “Shall we head back out there?” he asked.

  She stood. “I need to go to the ladies’ room. How about if I meet you on the ice?”

  As she scooted out of the booth, Joe stood—just like a gentleman should. But somewhere between scooting and standing, the toe of her skate connected with something hard and the next thing Anna knew she was pitching forward, sticking her hands out to keep from doing a face-plant.

  Her wrists bore the brunt of her fall. As Joe pulled her to her feet, a white-hot pain shot down the fingers of her left hand and up to her elbow. She pulled her hand into her chest, cradling it, but trying to not draw any more attention to herself than she already had.

  She must’ve been a lousy actress.

  “Are you okay?” Joe asked, reaching for her hand. “Let me look at that. You didn’t break it, did you?”

  She could move her fingers, but the movement sent flashes of pain spiraling through her.

  “I don’t think it’s broken, but it hurts.”

  “Let me get you some ice,” he offered. “This place should have plenty.”

  He was almost to the concession stand before she could object. Then, by the time he returned, she knew the night was over.

  “Thank you for the ice, Joe. But I think I should go. I’m sorry.”

  “Should we go to the hospital and get it x-rayed?” he said. “I’ll go with you. I hate it that you got hurt.”

  “No, thank you for offering, though. I’m a nurse. I’m sure it’s not fractured. It’s probably just a sprain. But I think I should go and ice it down and take care of it. The last thing I need is to fall on it again. Given my graceful performance tonight, that’s not so far-fetched.”

  Joe looked a little relieved. “Aren’t we a pair? You with your sprained wrist and me with my bad jokes.”

  He didn’t have to say any more for Anna to know that he wasn’t really feeling the chemistry either. Despite everything, it made the night better. Sort of like negatives canceling each other out to make a positive.

  “Let me drive you home, at least,” he said. “I’ll arrange to get your car tomorrow.”

  “No. But thank you, Joe. I don’t live too far from here. Really, I’ll be fine. Thank you for everything.”

  As she extended her good hand to shake his, she looked into his earnest brown eyes. There was a woman out there who would love Joseph Gardner’s quirky sense of humor. He truly was a good guy. Sadly, he just wasn’t the guy for her.

  Chapter Six

  “What did you do to your hand?” Jake wasn’t calling Anna to check up on the date. In fact, he hadn’t planned on calling her at all that night, but what kind of friend wouldn’t have checked on her after learning she’d fallen at the ice-skating rink and had hurt herself?

  “Jake? I’m fine. How did you know?”

  He explained that Joe had called him and given him the scoop.

  “What else is there to tell you?” Anna asked.

  “Why don’t you let me have a look at your hand?”

  He knew what her reaction would be, and that’s why he’d driven over before she could tell him not to.

  “Jake, you didn’t have to drive all the way over here. I’m sore, but I really don’t think it’s broken.”

  He got out of the car and started walking up the brick path.

  “I was in the neighborhood.”

  “You and I do not live in the same neighborhood.”

  “Well, I’m here now. In fact, I’m standing outside your front door. Are you going to let me in or not?”

  “Sure.”

  He would’ve let himself in like he always had, but now... Now that Anna was dating, he thought it would be best to respect her privacy. Although part of him was a little surprised when she did not comment on the fact that he’d knocked when he’d always let himself in in the past.

  He glanced at his watch. It was nearly nine o’clock. She’d probably already locked up for the night. In fact, if she hadn’t, he was going to say something. Insist that she be more careful. Celebration was as close to being a crime-free community as one could hope for, but she was a single woman living alone. Just to make sure she wasn’t compromising herself, Jake reached out and tried the door.

  It was locked. As it should be. Good.

  The porch light flicked on, followed by the sound of the dead bolt turning and the big wooden door opening. His heart clenched when he saw her standing there with her left arm in a makeshift sling. She was wearing a soft-looking pink T-shirt with blue pajama bottoms patterned with white sheep—or they might have been cumulus clouds. He didn’t want to look too closely; besides he was more concerned with the drawn look on her
face and the dullness in her eyes that indicated that she was in considerable pain.

  “What did you do to yourself?”

  She stepped back and let him inside, closing the door behind them.

  “I don’t know why I thought I could escape tonight unscathed,” she said as he followed her into the family room off the kitchen. There was a pregnant pause and for a moment he wasn’t sure if she was talking about the date or the ice-skating. He decided to wait for her to continue rather than ask.

  “I guess I’m not as young as I thought I was.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You are one of the most athletic people I know.”

  “Obviously, I’m no Tara Lipinski.”

  She sat down on the couch and gestured for him to take a seat next to her.

  “No medals?”

  “Only if they gave awards for klutziness—I’d win the gold. I wasn’t even on the ice when I fell. If I was going to walk away with battle wounds, at least I could’ve had a good story to tell—that I landed wrong when I attempted my triple Salchow sequence. But no, I tripped over the leg of the table in the snack bar. There’s a story for my grandkids.”

  Jake knew it was only a figure of speech, but Anna did see grandkids in her future. She wanted them—like most normal, healthy women. And she should have a family—a husband who loved her, a house full of kids and even more grandkids.

  He could never give her that.

  Not that she was thinking about him that way, he hoped. Everything had just gotten so muddied since the kiss. At least it had for him.

  “Let me take a look at that.” He reached out and eased the scarf that she was using as a makeshift sling over her head. She smelled good. Like shampoo and that flowery perfume she wore. The closeness and the smell of her and the act of lifting the scarf off her body conjured visions of him leaning in and kissing her again and taking off her shirt—

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  He was here to help her, not mentally undress her.

  Holding her injured hand, he moved his knee away from hers to put a little distance between them. He tried to ground himself firmly in the reality that he was holding her hand because he was a doctor. And she was in pain, for God’s sake. Never mind that her fingers were long and slender and her wrist was fine-boned, despite the swelling. He could tell that when he compared it to the one that wasn’t injured.

  He’d known her all these years, yet he’d never noticed this? How had that happened?

  “Can you move your fingers?”

  “I can.” She demonstrated slowly, but grimaced from the pain.

  “How about your wrist?”

  “Yep.” She lifted her hand from his and circled it in the air. “Ouch.”

  She lowered her hand back into his, palm side up, and he lightly stroked her skin with his thumb. She was so soft, so—

  “I know this hurts,” he said. “I’m sorry. But just one more test. Can you make a fist?”

  “I can, but I don’t want to because it hurts.”

  “I think we should take you in and get an X-ray,” Jake said. “Just as a precaution.”

  He was still cradling her hand in his. Now he was using his other hand to lightly caress the soft skin on her inner forearm.

  “Would you let me take you to the hospital?”

  She pulled her hand from his, holding it against her chest.

  “No, Jake.” She looked almost panicked.

  “Why not?”

  “Because if we come into the ER together at this time of night, it’s just going to perpetuate the rumors.”

  Oh. God, that’s right.

  He raked his hand through his hair. “You know what? I don’t give a damn what they think. I don’t care what they’re saying. We are none of their business.”

  We?

  They weren’t a we. Well, they were, but not that kind of we.

  Anna sat back on the couch. “Yeah, that’s easy for you to say because you don’t have to hear what they’re saying. Since you’re a doctor, they talk about you, but not to you.”

  He frowned. “Oh, I heard about it all right, from Patty who works with you up in OB.”

  Okay, so she had a point about the gossip. Yes, if they came in together tonight, the rumors would be flying tomorrow.

  “But, Anna, if you need an X-ray, you need an X-ray. As your attending physician, I am suggesting that you get this looked at just to be sure.”

  “You are not my doctor. You’re my—” She shook her head. “You’re my friend.” She held up her hand. “If it were broken, I couldn’t do this.” She made a fist with her hand and shook it at him, but no sooner had she done it than she gasped from the pain.

  Now he was shaking his head.

  “You need an X-ray.”

  “Not tonight.”

  “You have to be one of the most stubborn women I’ve ever met.”

  She shrugged. “Well, the least you could do is go get me some ice. Even Joe was nice enough to do that. Before you called, I was using that bag of frozen peas.” She nodded in the direction of a bag lying atop a magazine on the coffee table. “But I think it’s spent. I could probably use a full-fledged ice pack. There’s a box of zipper baggies in that drawer in the kitchen. You know where the ice is.”

  He gave her a look, but he spared her the lecture about refusing physicians’ orders. She was right—he wasn’t her doctor. And she was a smart woman. She knew her body. Then again, sometimes health-care workers were the worst when it came to taking care of themselves in situations like this.

  “Jake. The ice? Please?” Then as if she were reading his mind she added, “If the pain gets any worse, I’ll have it x-rayed when I get to work tomorrow.”

  He came back with the ice and handed it to her.

  “Do you want me to go to the pharmacy and get you something for the pain?”

  “No, thanks. You know I’m no good on strong meds. I took some ibuprofen when I got home. It’s starting to take the edge off.”

  “Speaking of, how did you get along with Joe?”

  He knew she might not be in the mood to talk about it, but it didn’t hurt to ask. He was curious, and Joe had been a little tight-lipped on the phone, not really sharing much other than the fact that Anna had fallen and wouldn’t let him take her to the hospital.

  “He’s a nice guy deep down. But did you really think he was my type? He kept cracking these really corny jokes. I mean it was rapid-fire, one right after the other. Did he act like that when you roomed with him in college?”

  Had he?

  “I guess he was a little annoying, but that was a while ago. Because if I were he, I would’ve grown up a little by now.”

  “I think he uses humor to deflect his pain. He hasn’t been divorced for that long.”

  “I guess not. Maybe he’s not over his ex. Maybe it was too soon.”

  “Why would you fix me up with someone who’d recently gone through a divorce?”

  Jake rolled his shoulders. What was he supposed to say? Because the two of you had that in common. Obviously, he was not a matchmaker. Obviously, he didn’t have a clue.

  “Not your type, huh?”

  “No.” He wasn’t sure if she was annoyed or if it was the pain bleeding through into her words.

  His gaze fell to her bottom lip. He was irrationally relieved that Joe hadn’t kissed her. He couldn’t quite reconcile that feeling. He knew she was off-limits to him. He’d fixed her up with Joe, thinking they might get along. Or if he thought about it a little more, he realized that she and Joe probably had nothing in common.

  “Good to know,” he said. “Maybe it’s not a bad idea to have a debriefing after each of the dates so that we can figure out what worked and what didn’t work, so that the next time, we come closer to getting it right. What do you think?”

  “If you’ll actually go on the next date I set up for you, you might not need next time.”

  He had the strongest urge to ask her if she wanted to talk about
what happened between them at the jazz festival. He realized it was completely out of context, but here she was still hell-bent on introducing him to the perfect woman.

  A voice way back in the recesses of his brain challenged him to consider the possibility that the perfect woman was sitting right here in front of him.

  But no. Oh, no. Hell, no. He wasn’t about to go there. He couldn’t.

  He lowered himself onto the couch next to her face-forward so he wouldn’t have to look at her.

  “So, using Joe as a point of reference, what should I do differently when I arrange the next date?”

  She thought about it for a moment. She laid her head back on the couch and stared at the ceiling.

  “Well, I liked the fact that Joe acted like a gentleman. He got points in that area, but there was zero attraction.”

  Good.

  “And of course there’s funny, and then there’s annoying. In that area, Joe bordered on annoying. So, next time maybe go with somebody perhaps a bit more intelligent, someone kind and someone who hasn’t just come from signing divorce papers.”

  She sat up and rearranged the ice pack on her wrist inside the sling, then looked at him.

  “I have an idea,” she said. “One thing that might be making this difficult is that we’ve never seen each other in action out on a date.”

  “You saw me with Dorenda.”

  “I felt like I needed to avert my eyes when you and Dorenda were together. Either that, or tell you to get a room. The PDA was really unbearable.”

  “So what are you getting at?” he asked.

  “For our next date, why don’t we go on a double date? That way we can see each other in action. Of course, it will have to wait until I’m feeling better. But let’s start looking at prospects.”

  “All right,” he said. “That could be interesting. But I’m still unclear about something you said. Did you say you didn’t want to date anyone who is divorced?”

  “No, that’s not what I meant. I understand that when you get into your thirties, most guys are going to come with some baggage. We’re not spring chickens anymore. So, yes, divorced is okay—I’d be a bit hypocritical if I ruled out all divorced men. Actually, what scares me more at this point in the game is the ones who have never been married. There’re usually issues with them, too.”