“I think you’d have a better chance of convincing your mother if she saw you were willing to help out with Finnigan and Frederick every once in a while.”
“I’ll help every day,” Quinn promised.
“Me, too,” Shane chimed in.
“Well, you’ll have to check with your mom on that,” Matt told them. “But if you can, I’d appreciate it.”
“Does that mean we’re friends again?” Quinn asked.
Not too much surprised Matt, but this question did. “I didn’t know we stopped being friends.”
“You stopped coming over.”
The little boy’s matter-of-fact statement made him appreciate that you could fool some people some of the time, but you couldn’t fool a four-year-old. Obviously Georgia wasn’t the only member of the Reed family who had recognized his avoidance.
“There was a lot of stuff going on at the hospital,” he hedged.
“Did you fix more broken arms?”
He nodded. “A couple of those. A broken femur—” he tapped the little boy’s thigh “—that’s the bone in there, a hip replacement, some knee arthroscopies.”
“What’s arrow-scope-peas?”
Matt smiled. “Arthroscopy,” he said again, enunciating the word more carefully. “It’s an operation that uses a tiny camera to see what’s inside the joint so that the doctor can fix whatever’s wrong through little cuts in the skin.”
Quinn drew back in horror. “You cut people?”
“Only when necessary,” Matt assured him.
“You didn’t cut me,” Shane said.
“Because the X-ray let me see that the bone was only broken, not out of position, so we just had to put a cast on your arm to make sure the bone wouldn’t move before it was healed.”
The little boy considered this explanation for a minute, then he said, “Mommy says we can’t go back in the tree house till my cast is gone.”
“She’s probably worried that you might fall again.”
“Maybe you could talk to her,” Quinn suggested hopefully. “She’d listen to you, ’cuz you’re a doctor.”
“Nice try, but doctor’s orders do not override Mommy’s rules,” Georgia said, stepping out onto the deck.
Matt noticed that she’d strapped on the infant carrier again and Pippa, obviously sated and happy, was snuggled inside.
Quinn let out a long-suffering sigh. “It was worth a try.”
“And you get an A for effort,” she told him. “But you don’t go back to the tree house until I say so.”
Shane pouted silently.
“Now take the puppies inside,” she said. “It’s time for us to go home so that you guys can have a bath before bed.”
“Don’t wanna bath,” Shane said.
“I know, because you’re a four-year-old boy and dirt is your best friend, but you’re going to have a bath anyway.”
Shane shook his head. “Quinn’s my best friend, and then Finnigan and Frederick.”
“Then you shouldn’t mind getting rid of the dirt,” Georgia said dryly, while Matt tried not to laugh at the little boy’s solemn statement.
Quinn stood up, careful not to disturb the sleeping puppy in his arms. “It’s okay,” he told his brother. “We can come back and see the puppies tomorrow. Dr. Matt said so.”
“I said if it was okay with your mom,” he interjected quickly, before Georgia had to remind her sons again about doctor’s orders and Mommy’s rules.
Shane looked up at her pleadingly. “Can we, Mommy?”
“We’ll figure that out tomorrow.”
Quinn’s lower lip jutted out.
“But if that’s not acceptable, I can say ‘no’ now,” she suggested.
Matt had to admire the quickness with which the boy sucked his lip back so that it was in a normal position again before she’d even finished speaking.
“I guess that’s acceptable then?” she prompted.
Both boys nodded as they carried the puppies back into the house.
Georgia waited until they were out of earshot before she said, “It looks like we’ll be seeing you tomorrow.”
“I’m already looking forward to it.”
He stayed out on the deck, watching as they made their way back to their own house and wishing that they could have stayed. Not just for a little bit longer, but maybe even forever. Because somehow, over the past few weeks, he’d fallen head over heels for Georgia and her three adorable children.
He winced as tiny claws pressed down on his bare foot. He glanced down to see Finnigan—or was it Frederick?—trying to climb up his leg, wanting some attention. He scooped the puppy up and tucked him into the crook of his arm. Almost as soon as he had done so, his canine sibling appeared.
As Matt retreated back into the house with the puppies in his arms, he was consoled by the fact that he wouldn’t be completely alone tonight.
* * *
Georgia didn’t get much sleep that night, and she couldn’t even blame Pippa because her baby girl had actually slept for almost five hours straight. Unfortunately, even while Pippa was sleeping, Georgia was tossing and turning—thinking about Matt Garrett. Wanting Matt Garrett.
She wasn’t used to having her hormones all stirred up, especially not by someone who wasn’t her husband. She wasn’t sure what to do about it, or even if she wanted to do anything at all.
Matt was stirring her up on purpose—of that she had no doubt. To an outside observer, his treatment of her had been nothing but circumspect throughout the evening. He certainly hadn’t done anything obvious or inappropriate. But when he led her to the table, he placed a guiding hand at the small of her back. When he sat in his own chair, he let his knee brush against her legs. When he wanted to get her attention, he’d touch a hand to hers. And every single touch, no matter how brief or casual, made her pulse jolt and her body yearn.
She didn’t know if her response was specific to her neighbor or just a symptom of the fact that she’d been celibate for so long. She suspected it was specific to Matt, because no one—before or since her marriage—had ever affected her the way he did, and she didn’t have the first clue what to do about it.
She could sleep with him. That seemed the most obvious and simple answer. If you have an itch, scratch it, Charlotte was fond of saying. But Georgia and her mother often had differing philosophies.
And there were a lot of reasons for Georgia not to get involved with her neighbor—one of them being that he was her neighbor. If they hooked up and things didn’t work out, she still had to live next door to him.
But the primary consideration was her three children. Not only did their presence complicate the situation and decrease the likelihood of finding any alone time, she had to consider how any kind of romantic involvement would affect them. She didn’t doubt that Quinn and Shane would be in favor of a relationship between their mother and “Dr. Matt” because they loved hanging out with him. But if things didn’t work out, how difficult would it be for them to lose that connection? They’d been devastated by Phillip’s death. For weeks after the funeral, they’d been plagued by nightmares; and for several more months, they’d frequently awakened Georgia in the night just to make sure she wasn’t dead, too. They’d already grown so close to Matt, and she couldn’t imagine what another loss would do to them. And because she didn’t know, she wouldn’t let herself risk the possibility of starting something that might only end with heartbreak—for her children and herself.
But what if things did work out?
Georgia wasn’t sure she was willing to consider that possibility; she didn’t want to look too far ahead. She didn’t want a relationship—even if she was increasingly tempted to explore the chemistry between them.
As for what Matt wanted...she wasn’t entirely sure. He’d admitted that he was attracted to her, so she was pretty sure he would go along with the sex thing. She just didn’t know what—if anything—he wanted beyond that.
But the more time that passed, the more she thou
ght about him, the more she wanted him. For a lot more reasons than the fact that his proximity made her all hot and bothered.
He was a good man. She knew that not all doctors had chosen the profession for benevolent reasons. But she didn’t doubt that Matt had. It was his nature to help people, whether that meant fixing a broken bone or performing lawn maintenance or late-night taxi service. She knew he wasn’t perfect—if he was, he wouldn’t still be single. And while she couldn’t deny a fair amount of curiosity about his marriage and divorce, she didn’t feel it was her place to ask when they weren’t really anything more than neighbors—even if the air fairly crackled whenever they were together.
But the physical attraction aside, he was innately kind and considerate, and he was great with kids.
He paid attention to her children. He looked at them when they were talking to him, he listened and responded to what they said, and he seemed to genuinely enjoy being with them. That alone was almost enough for Georgia to fall in love with him.
And the knowledge that she could fall in love with him was what terrified her.
If she thought she could scratch the proverbial itch and be done with it, she might have been more willing to take that next step. But she worried that scratching would only make the itch more intense—because the more time she spent with Matt Garrett, the more she wanted to be with him.
* * *
It turned out that the answer to Quinn’s question was a resounding yes—the puppies did wake Matt up in the night. Three times, in fact. And each time that he was up, he noticed that there was a light shining in Pippa’s room, so he knew Georgia was up, too.
A couple of times, he saw her shadow through the curtains as she passed in front of the window. He could barely keep his eyes open on night one with the puppies, so he could only imagine how exhausted she must be after more than four months of sleepless nights.
When he’d asked, Georgia told him that Pippa was sleeping better and her bouts of fussiness were less frequent and intense. Since Matt couldn’t hear the baby crying, he figured that was probably true, but he still didn’t think Georgia was getting much sleep.
A suspicion that was proven by the shadows under her eyes when he knocked on her door late the following morning.
“I was just going to take Finn and Fred for a walk and thought the boys might want to come with me,” he said.
“We want to,” Quinn responded before his mother could.
“Pippa’s just gone down for a nap,” Georgia told him.
“Why don’t you do the same?” Matt suggested.
“You’re going to take two boys and two puppies by yourself?”
“Don’t I look capable?”
“It’s not your ability I doubt, it’s your desire.”
Even before his lips curved, her cheeks filled with color as she realized how her statement could be interpreted.
“I thought we answered that question definitively the other night,” he teased.
“I meant your willingness to take a walk with two boys and two puppies.”
“I’m willing—and capable,” he assured her. “And we won’t be gone too long.”
She looked down at the hopeful faces of her sons. “Go get your shoes.”
The twins raced down the hall to the closet, and Matt took advantage of their temporary absence to dip his head and kiss their mother. It was a brief touch, barely more than a brush of his lips against hers. Certainly not enough to satisfy him, but enough to thoroughly fluster Georgia.
Before she could say anything, the boys were back.
“We’re ready,” Quinn said.
Matt took each boy by the hand. “Then let’s go get the puppies.”
* * *
Georgia intended to take advantage of the boys’ absence to get some work done. But after checking her email and replying to the messages that needed replies, she found herself struggling to concentrate. And it was Matt Garrett’s fault—even when he wasn’t around, she couldn’t seem to get him out of her mind.
She’d always been extremely focused and never, in her entire life, had she let herself be so easily and completely distracted by a man. Not that she was “letting” herself be distracted now—she just couldn’t stop thinking about him.
And it wasn’t just because she had let the twins go off with him. In fact, she wasn’t the least bit worried about her children with Matt, because he’d proven that he was more than capable of looking after the boys and she absolutely trusted that he would do so.
But while she wasn’t worried about her children, she was worried about herself. Because somehow, Matt Garrett had taken hold of her heart and she didn’t have the first clue what to do about it.
The slap of the screen door against its frame jolted her back to the present.
“Mommy?”
“In the dining room,” she said.
Quinn raced into the room, his brother on his heels and Matt right behind them, looking completely at ease with her children—and far too handsome and sexy for her peace of mind.
“We tired the puppies out,” her son told her proudly. “Dr. Matt had to carry them home ’cuz they were too tired to walk.”
“Then you guys must be pretty tired, too,” she said, ruffling her son’s hair.
“Nuh-uh,” Shane said. “We’re goin’ for ice cream.”
She lifted a brow. “Ice cream?”
“You haven’t heard of it?” Matt teased. “It’s a frozen dairy dessert.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard of it. In fact, I’ve actually tasted it once or twice before.”
“But have you experienced the bliss of Walton’s ice cream?”
Georgia shook her head, thinking that there were a lot of blisses she would willingly experience with this man.
“You haven’t really had ice cream until you’ve had Walton’s,” he told her.
She forced herself to ignore the clamoring of her suddenly hyperactive hormones. “It’s almost time for lunch.” She felt compelled to point this out to all of them.
“Walk on the wild side,” he suggested, “and eat your dessert first for a change.”
The low, sexy tone of his voice raised goose bumps on her flesh, but she ignored the physiological response of her body and focused on more practical matters.
“If the boys have ice cream now, they won’t eat their lunch.”
“A kiddie cone,” Matt cajoled.
“Pleeeease,” Quinn and Shane chorused.
She believed it was important for the boys to understand that there were rules to follow, but she wasn’t so rigid that she would never bend those rules. And though she was tempted to bend this time, she shook her head. “Pippa isn’t up from her nap yet, and when she wakes up she’s going to need to be changed and fed.”
As if on cue, the sound of Pippa babbling and cooing came through the baby monitor.
“Pippa’s up,” Quinn told her.
“It sounds like she is,” Georgia agreed.
“Ice cream?” Shane said hopefully.
“Let me take care of Pippa, and then we’ll go for ice cream.”
Because that was one blissful experience she could justify, but personal fantasies about the doctor next door she could not.
Chapter Ten
When Matt had agreed to take the remaining two puppies from his brother, he’d worried about how much time and attention they would need. Luke had somehow convinced him that having two puppies would be less work than one because they would be company for one another and content to play together. After a few days, Matt had found that was generally true. He’d also discovered that Finnigan and Frederick were never happier than when they were playing with Quinn and Shane—and the twins seemed equally enamored of their furry friends.
It was, to Matt’s mind, a win-win situation. Or maybe it was a win-win-win situation, because when the boys were hanging out with the puppies, it gave him an excuse to hang out with Georgia. Since keeping a distance hadn’t stopped him from th
inking about her, he’d abandoned his campaign of avoidance for a new tack—spend as much time with her as possible in the hope that she would want him as much as he wanted her.
He knew she wasn’t there yet, but he knew she was thinking about him. He saw it in the awareness in her eyes when he touched her, heard it in the huskiness of her voice when he stood close, and he’d definitely tasted it in the sweet softness of her lips when he kissed her.
Yeah, she was thinking about him, and hopefully—with just a little bit of a nudge in the right direction—she would be thinking about a lot more.
As they made their way toward Walton’s, Georgia carrying Pippa in her baby carrier and Matt pulling the twins in their wagon, he considered that today just might be the day to give her that nudge.
“How did I not know this place was here?” she wondered, taking in the long row of freezers, the candy toppings displayed in glass containers and the list of menu items that stretched across the long wall behind the counter.
“You’re new in town,” he noted.
And because it was her first visit, she took her time surveying the offerings while the boys raced back and forth, pointing out one flavor then another.
Matt gave her a few minutes before he asked, “What looks good to you?”
“Everything,” she said, and then she sighed. “But I’m going to have to pass.”
He shook his head. “You can’t come into Walton’s and walk away from the counter empty-handed.”
“Is that written into the local bylaws?”
“If it’s not, it should be,” he told her.
“I followed your advice and cut out dairy and it seems to have helped alleviate some of Pippa’s colic. So as tempted as I am, I’m not going to sacrifice my sleep for a brief taste of sinful decadence.”
But he heard the regret in her voice, and couldn’t resist teasing, “Sinful decadence is the best reason I can think of to sacrifice sleep—but I’m not talking about ice cream.”
The flush in her cheeks confirmed that she knew what he was talking about. “These days, I’m not sacrificing my sleep for anything.”
From Neighbors...to Newlyweds? Page 11