by Marie Force
David took a seat and gave her his undivided attention, the way he always did, as if she were the only patient he had. “How’s it going?”
“My hands have been pretty bad.”
Wheeling his stool across the exam room, he held out his hands to her. “Let’s see.”
Chloe put her hands in his and tried not to wince as he gently examined them.
“They do seem more swollen than they’ve been before.”
“And the meds are doing a job on my stomach.”
“That’s an unfortunate side effect. I want to start you on a steroid that will help. It might make you a little puffy and bloated, but it should help with the swelling. You’re apt to feel cured on this stuff, but just a heads-up that it doesn’t work forever. As we’ve discussed, we’ll be adjusting and tweaking as we go. It’s a continuous process.”
“I’m willing to try whatever you think might help so I can keep working.”
David wrote the script and handed it to her. “Fiona might have to order it.”
“Such is life on an island.”
“Exactly.” He sat back, crossed his arms and studied her. “How’s your mental health?”
Unprepared for the question, she wasn’t sure how to reply.
“Have you told anyone about the diagnosis?”
“No.”
“It might help to confide in a friend.”
“I need to protect my business. I don’t want people not coming in because they’re afraid that cutting their hair will cause me pain.”
“Fair enough. Have you checked out the online support communities I gave you?”
“Briefly. They gave me new things to worry about.”
“Well, that’s not good. How about a professional? I can write you a referral to Dr. McCarthy. He’s a very well-regarded psychiatrist, and we’re lucky to have him in our community.”
Chloe’s brain had frozen on the word “McCarthy.” As in Finn’s father. “I, um… I don’t know about that.”
“I think it would help. Despite how it seems to you right now, RA isn’t a death sentence in most cases. It’s a difficult disorder that requires intensive management, so it’s a big adjustment for patients to make after being diagnosed. There’s no shame in admitting you need some help wrapping your head around it.” He wrote something else on his prescription pad and tore off the page, handing it to her. “Kevin’s number. I’ll put through the referral for your insurance in case you decide to give him a call.”
Chloe took the paper from him. “I’ll think about it.”
“Go once. Do it for me.” His warm, caring smile had her smiling back at him.
“That’s very manipulative, Doc.”
“I know. I’m sorry, but I really think it will help you to find some acceptance and peace.”
Two things that had been in short order for her over the last three weeks. Denial wasn’t working, so why not try something new? “I’ll definitely think about it.”
“Excellent.”
“You’re very good at what you do, David.”
“Thank you. I don’t like to see anyone suffer needlessly, and I know you’ve been suffering these last few weeks.”
Chloe couldn’t deny that, so she didn’t try. “I’m very afraid of what the future will bring.”
“Which is understandable. Kevin can help. So can your friends. People care about you, Chloe. Don’t feel like you have to do this on your own.”
“I also feel guilty for freaking out about this when I know people get much worse diagnoses every day.”
“Don’t feel guilty. This is a tough one for you. It’s painful, and it threatens your livelihood. I totally understand the freak-out.”
His kind words had her fighting back tears for the second time in as many hours. “Your kindness and support mean so much to me.”
“I wish there was more I could do.”
Left unspoken between them was the reality that she might one day require far more specialized care than he could provide on their little island. She refused to think about that on top of everything else weighing on her.
“Knowing you’re close by helps.”
David walked her out. “Call me any time—day or night. You have my number. If you need me, call me.”
“I will. Thank you again.” Clutching the prescription and the paper David had given her with Dr. McCarthy’s number written on it, Chloe left the clinic and drove to Ryan’s Pharmacy.
Fiona, a stunning redhead with a porcelain complexion, was working alone at the pharmacy counter in the back and smiled when she saw Chloe coming. “Hi there.”
“How’s it going?”
“Getting busy again. I’ll be glad when Grace gets home to help.” Grace Ryan McCarthy, the owner of the pharmacy, was married to Evan McCarthy. They had been touring during the winter, in support of his music career.
“When do they get home?”
“In time for his cousin’s wedding next weekend.”
“Right. That makes sense.” Chloe handed over the prescription.
Fiona scanned it quickly. “I’ll have to order this from the mainland. Should be here tomorrow. I’ll call you when it comes in?”
“That’d be great. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Chloe left the pharmacy and went next door to the grocery store to buy a salad for lunch. Lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t see the man coming toward her until she’d crashed into him, causing both of them to stumble and fall. She landed hard on her right hip, grunting from the pain of impact.
The scent of coffee had her staring at the coffee-soaked, faded denim crotch of the man she’d collided with.
“We really need to stop meeting this way.”
That voice. She looked up, and her gaze met Finn’s. He smiled, but it wasn’t the usual big smile that engaged his startling blue eyes. This one was sad, and it killed her to know she’d done that to him.
He stood and reached out to help her up. “You okay?”
She ignored his offer, but only because it would hurt her to have him pull on her hand. Not because she didn’t want to touch him. That wasn’t it at all. To her dismay, the hip she’d landed on didn’t want to cooperate and buckled.
Finn moved quickly to catch her before she fell again, holding her until she had her legs under her. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” His nearness had her heart beating so hard, she saw stars. Then she remembered to breathe. Her hip throbbed, letting her know she would pay for the fall all day.
“Are you sure?”
Chloe nodded and forced herself to let go of him, to step back, to let him go when that was the last thing she wanted to do. If she could’ve done anything she wanted, she would have rested her head on his chest and let him hold her for as long as he was willing. But that wasn’t an option.
An employee from the grocery store arrived with a mop and made quick work of cleaning up the coffee that had spilled on the floor.
“Let me get you another coffee,” Chloe said. “That was my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“No worries. I’ll grab another. Can I buy you one?”
Wanting to prolong the encounter, even though she knew that wasn’t wise, Chloe nodded. “Sure. Thanks.”
“Right this way.”
She stepped gingerly on her right foot, trying not to limp as she followed him to the coffee bar where he poured cups for both of them, handing her one. Chloe stirred cream and a dash of sugar into hers. “You drink yours black?”
“Yep.”
“That’s kinda gross.”
His face lifted into half a grin. “So is all that crap you put into yours.”
Even in the midst of the busy store as they stood there making fun of the way they drank their coffee, Chloe felt the undeniable connection, the electricity in the air that sizzled between them any time he was close by—and even when he wasn’t. All she had to do was think about him to feel the zing.
“I’m sorr
y about last night,” she said softly.
“No need to apologize. But I do want you to know…” He glanced around them. “Not here. Let’s go outside.”
“I’m going to grab a salad for lunch.”
“Lead the way.”
He stayed with her as she visited the salad bar and then insisted on paying for her coffee and salad when they got to the checkout counter.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.” He walked her to her car. “What I wanted to say in there is that I feel like there’s something bigger than this happening.” He waved a hand between them. “I know we just met and it’s none of my business, but I want you to know that if you need a friend—and only a friend—I’m here, and I want to help.”
His kind words filled her with the now-familiar yearning he inspired in her. What would it be like to have someone like him by her side to help her navigate the new reality? He would be incredible and supportive and caring. She’d known him a matter of days and already knew that he’d be someone she could count on. She was so very tempted to unburden herself, but she couldn’t do that to him. Once again, it came back to fairness.
Chloe forced herself to look at him, not that looking at him was any kind of hardship. “Thank you. That’s very sweet of you, and I appreciate it.” The words she wanted to say were right on the tip of her tongue, burning to get out. If the truth was all it would take to keep him close to her… She realized she was staring at him, drowning in the blue of his gorgeous eyes, and looked away. “I, um, I have to go. I have a customer at ten.”
His disappointment was palpable. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
“I hope so.”
He held the car door for her, waited for her to get settled and then waved as she drove away.
She hoped he didn’t see the tears running down her face.
Chapter 14
Were those tears he’d seen on her face as she left? The question plagued him as he went home to change his coffee-soaked pants before driving to the Curtis house to meet Mac and the others. Finn wouldn’t be sticking around to work on that job, but he was curious about it nonetheless. Or he had been until he ran into Chloe—again—and took another wild ride on the emotional roller coaster.
How was it that they had lived on the same tiny island for two years and never saw each other, and now she was everywhere he looked, or so it seemed. He felt like he’d known her forever. Had it really been only a few days since the guys talked him into getting his hair cut at her salon? Was it possible for a life to change so dramatically in the span of a few days?
He wouldn’t have thought so until it happened to him.
The others were already there when Finn arrived, and he tried to shake off his dour mood as he joined them.
“Thought you weren’t sticking around for this one,” Shane said.
“I’m not, but I’m still curious.”
“Wish we could change your mind.” Luke sounded forlorn. “Won’t be the same without you and Riley busting each other’s balls all day long.”
“But it will be quieter,” Mac said, making them laugh.
“It’s good to know I’ll be missed.” Finn would miss them and their camaraderie. They did good work together and had fun, too. Thinking about not seeing them every day only added to the glum mood he’d fallen into after the latest encounter with Chloe.
Mac led them through the Gothic-style, three-story house that sat back from the craggy bluffs of the island’s west side. The inside was dark and dreary and badly in need of an update.
“Please tell me we’re doing a full gut,” Riley said, echoing Finn’s thoughts.
“Yep, but we’re going to try to preserve some of the original details, such as the stained-glass windows on the stairway and the molding.”
“The woodwork is incredible,” Luke said.
“It really is.” Mac pointed to built-in bookcases in what must’ve been a library. “They want to restore the woodwork in here.”
Finn ran a hand over one of the bookshelves. He loved doing restoration work that brought a building that had fallen into disrepair back to life. This one had a story to tell, and he couldn’t wait to see what the guys would do with it.
His cell phone rang, and he withdrew it from his pocket to see a call from a Connecticut number he didn’t recognize. “Hello?”
“Nice of you to finally answer your phone.”
Missy. Fuck. “I’m at work, and I asked you to leave me alone.”
“I don’t care where you are! You’re going to talk to me right now or—”
Finn ended the call, turned off the phone and put it back in his pocket.
“What the hell was that?” Riley asked.
“Nothing.” Finn realized his hands were shaking, so he stuffed them into the front pocket of his pullover sweatshirt.
Riley’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Finn. “Was that Missy again?”
“Maybe.”
“Bro, you need to call the cops.”
“I’m not calling the cops.” She’d give up when she figured out he wasn’t going to change his mind.
Mac came over to them. “What’s going on?”
“Tell him, Finn.”
Sighing, Finn said, “My ex is hassling me. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Hassling you how?”
Riley answered for him. “She’s blowing up his phone and screaming at him. I just heard the latest call.”
“Did you block her?” Mac asked.
“Yeah, but she’s calling me from other people’s phones. I thought it might be Clint calling about work, so I took the call.”
“Maybe you ought to mention it to Blaine,” Mac said. “Just in case.”
“In case of what?”
“In case it escalates.”
“It won’t. She’s pissed, but she’ll get over it.”
Riley crossed his arms and stared him down. “She booked a wedding venue, Finn. She’s not going to just get over it.”
Mac’s eyes bugged. “She did what?”
“She booked a wedding venue for next year,” Riley said.
“Jesus. Had you talked about getting married?”
“Not once, ever.”
“Sorry, man, but that’s fucked up.”
By now, Shane and Luke had joined them, the four men forming a circle around Finn.
“Sane people don’t book weddings when the other half of the relationship doesn’t know he’s getting married,” Luke said. “I don’t think you should just blow this off like it’s no big deal.”
“I agree,” Shane said. “You need to show your phone to Blaine, tell him what she did and said. See what he thinks.”
“I thought I heard Blaine was off-island.” Finn felt sick at the thought of reporting Missy to the cops. Had it really come to that?
“He’s back with his brother Deacon, who’s apparently going to be Gansett’s new harbor master,” Mac said. “I’ll go with you to talk to him.”
“Oh. Um. Okay.”
“Let’s do it.”
“Like right now?”
Mac stared at him without a hint of the usual humor he was known for. “Right fucking now.”
Finn swallowed hard and allowed his cousin to lead him out of the house. Everything about this felt wrong. He and Missy had been friends since high school, had dated on and off for five years before he moved to Gansett. Was he really about to turn her in to the cops for harassing him?
Mac gave him a gentle shove toward the passenger seat of his truck, and Finn got in, ceding to the cousin who’d never steered him wrong and who’d always had his back, from the time Finn had been a little kid hungry for the attention of the older cousins he’d adored. If Mac said he needed to report it, he would report it.
As Mac started the truck, Riley jumped into the backseat, settling awkwardly between the car seats belonging to Mac’s kids.
They drove to the public safety building in tense silence.
“Turn your phone back on,” Mac said right before they pulled into the parking lot where Blaine’s department-issued SUV sat in the spot reserved for the chief.
Finn turned on the phone, and it went wild, beeping with texts and messages.
“She’s persistent,” Riley said. “You gotta give her that.”
“She’s harassing him,” Mac said. “Plain and simple. If a guy was doing that to a woman, it would be a big deal. It’s no less of a big deal because a woman is doing it to a guy. Harassment is harassment, and it’s not okay.”
After Mac parked, Finn got out of the truck and followed him inside, hoping he didn’t actually throw up.
Riley squeezed his shoulder, letting him know he was there, which Finn appreciated. This totally sucked, and he wanted nothing to do with it, but his cousin was right. Her behavior was not okay.
“It’s Mac and his identical twin baby cousins,” Blaine said, grinning when he saw them coming.
All their lives, Riley and Finn had heard about their startling resemblance to Mac and his brother Adam, so Blaine’s comment was nothing new.
“What’s up, boys?” Blaine stood next to a younger man who shared his sun-streaked brown hair, golden-brown eyes and muscular build but not his friendly disposition. The other guy, who Finn assumed was his brother, glowered at Blaine behind his back. Finn wondered what his deal was.
“Tell him, Finn,” Mac said in that no-nonsense tone that had put Finn on edge earlier. Usually, Mac was all about the nonsense.
“I told my ex at home that we were over for good, and she kind of lost it a little.”
“Not a little,” Riley said. “A lot. Show him the phone.”
Finn unlocked the phone and showed Blaine the texts and voicemails he’d received from Missy. “I haven’t read them all—”