Have Bouquet, Need Boyfriend

A nervous flutter of her eyes followed. “I didn’t mean it like that, Thomas. I’m not implying that you’re materialistic….” She let the sentence trail off, obviously shaken by the turn of the conversation.

“I didn’t mean to imply you thought I was—”

“I didn’t think you were.”

His head was spinning. “Well, thanks for that. I was beginning to think you didn’t like me.”

“What?” The shock in her voice surprised him.

“You run every time I get near you.” He pried his fingers off the door handle, forcing his hand to relax on his thigh. “I thought maybe you’d heard some bad things about me or something.”

“Bad things?” Her gaze found him again, her blue eyes luminous in the foggy interior. “No, I’ve only heard good things about you. What bad things would I hear?”

“None.” At least not that he knew of.

His gaze fell to her scalloped neckline, which revealed a hint of creamy skin and rounded breasts. “I’ve heard nice things about you, too.”

She hit a pothole, and the car jerked sideways. An oncoming car blasted its horn. He grabbed the dash, and she swung the car back in line just in time to avoid a head-on collision. “I…good.”

“Well, now we’ve got that settled,” he said, finding the radio. “We can relax.”

Like hell. Maybe some soft music would calm her. He certainly needed something to steady his nerves, considering the way she kept courting the embankment. And that sultry scent enveloping her was rattling other nerves that had no business being awakened.

He simply wanted a friendship with Rebecca Hartwell. An uncomplicated, platonic friendship with no feelings or commitments or expectations to hinder him from his goal of leaving Sugar Hill.

“So, why did you go into medicine?”

His fingers tightened on the knob. “I like the challenge. And no matter how many babies I deliver, the miracle of birth never ceases to astound me.”

“Babies are wonderful.” Rebecca’s voice softened. “I love watching Mimi with Maggie Rose. That little girl is adorable.”

“Both her parents dote on her.”

Rebecca laughed. “I’m glad it worked out for them to be together. I thought Mimi might raise the baby alone for a while.”

Thomas nodded. He’d heard something about that. Once again his thoughts turned to his own mother and how difficult his teenage years had been. “Being a single mom is tough. I admire women who raise children alone these days.”

“Yeah, I miss my mom. She died when I was young,” Rebecca admitted.

Thomas placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Rebecca. I lost my mom a while back, but she was alive when I was little.”

A few moments of companionable silence stretched taut between them. Then she hit another bump and her purse flew from the seat to the floor. The tampon rolled out. She blushed, then reached for it.

He grimaced. Good grief, he was an OB-GYN.

The car swerved sideways, and he yanked up the purse, stuffed the tampon inside and closed it for her. Her lips snapped shut.

Then she hit another bump in the road, and the chest in the back bounced up and slammed down with a thump. He angled his head to see it. “What’s in that box, anyway?”

Rebecca’s gaze darted everywhere but at him. “Just some junk for a garage sale.”

He lapsed into silence as he remembered the dozens of garage sales his mother had had. She’d sold everything she could stand to part with just to provide for them. He’d hated seeing their things being hocked to strangers for mere pocket change.

Surely Rebecca wasn’t that desperate for money.

If she was, she’d have a hell of a time paying her insurance if the company raised it after they covered the damages to his car.

But her finances were not his problem, he reminded himself, battling a twinge of sympathy. He was not playing Mr. Nice Guy again. He would befriend Rebecca so she could introduce him to her father, then he’d secure the job and move to Atlanta.

Nothing more.

A HALF HOUR LATER Rebecca’s insides still quivered. What had happened to her today? Not only had she ruined Thomas’s Porsche, but she’d damn near run off the road and killed him. Then she’d lied to him about the silly hope chest.

But she didn’t want him to think she was husband hunting, that she would mistake his kindness for an advance. Because Thomas Emerson was the nicest man she’d ever met. And the sexiest. And someone was going to be the luckiest woman alive one day to have him for a husband.

Of course, that someone would not be her.

Memories of at least three painful past relationships traipsed through her mind, trampling her mood altogether. Memories of men who had used her to get to Suzanne.

No, Thomas wasn’t like those men. He was trustworthy and sincere and helped women through his work. He would never use a woman. Although, she had overheard him asking Hannah about Suzanne when she’d gone for punch.

She veered onto the interstate toward his house, grateful for the soft jazz music filling the tense silence. Once she dropped him at his house, she wouldn’t have to face him again. She could handle the insurance information over the phone and never have to look into those startling green eyes again. As long as she didn’t see him, she could put him firmly out of her mind.

Then she wouldn’t have to drool over him and want the man so badly.

After all, she was a realist. She refused to torture herself and dream about things she could never have.

Like Thomas Emerson.

Chapter Three

Thomas shook his head as Rebecca drove away. She was an enigma. He’d finally grown tired of the strained silence in the car and had ventured into asking her about a book he’d ordered that hadn’t yet arrived.

She had transformed into an intelligent, well-spoken woman.

The past half hour they’d enjoyed a long discussion of various popular titles as well as nonfiction topics. Rebecca was well-read and insightful, and had even argued with him about the authors of some hard-to-find classics. But when he’d suggested they stop by her place so he could help her unload that chest full of garage sale items, she’d grown flustered again. She’d claimed her neighbor, Jerry Ruthers, would assist her instead.

Was this guy Jerry her boyfriend? Was he the reason she’d rushed to get home and had refused Thomas’s offer of coffee?

An odd feeling pinched his gut. Maybe it was from the chocolate groom’s cake he’d eaten at Alison’s wedding. No, probably from the jostling his body had been subjected to on the harrowing ride home.

He walked inside his house, smiling at the expanse of polished hardwood and detailed molding. As a child, he’d never imagined owning a house like this, one with space and class. He tossed his keys onto the marble table in the foyer and stopped in the den, his gaze riveted to the Palladian glass window overlooking his backyard. A cluster of oaks so ancient the branches swayed with age provided shade while a fish pond added more visual interest.

Pride swelled in his chest at his accomplishments.

Still, material things weren’t enough. His thirst for knowledge couldn’t be quenched. He’d vowed to learn everything he could about high-risk deliveries. A child’s life might depend on his skill and expertise.

The key to reaching his goals lay in that job in Atlanta.