by Fiona West
She couldn’t help but grin. “Why, Dr. Durand, are you thinking about my anatomy?”
“Definitely.” He smirked back. “But thinking’s all I’m doing tonight.” He leaned forward and gave her an innocent kiss on the cheek, and she’d never been more tempted to turn her head just a little and make it less innocent. He slid off the bed and headed for the door.
“Good night, Other Dr. Durand.”
He paused in the doorway. “Good night, Winnie Baker. Sweet dreams.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE NEXT MORNING, WINNIE poured herself some orange juice from a glass carafe. She stifled a yawn, lifting her glass to mask it, then took a sip. Ethan’s unexpected threats, Daniel’s murmured endorsements and her own rash declarations had had her tossing and turning well past one in the morning. It didn’t look better in the light of an overcast Portland Sunday morning. She’d snuck out of the suite for brunch, letting Daniel stay passed out on the sofa; he hadn’t bothered to pull out the bed, but he’d had a sheet over his chest . . . his bare chest. He had nice pecs, not too defined or too hairy, just very . . . nice. She’d stared at them for probably too long on her way to the bathroom this morning. But the time to herself had given her a chance to think. Why couldn’t they be together? He was such a nice guy—thoughtful, funny, smart, tenacious. And even if he was a little younger, who was really going to notice? Maybe she was blowing it all out of proportion. They did work together, but it’s not like she reported to him or vice versa. Maybe this could work.
“Winifred!” Her mentor’s voice startled her out of her ponderings, and she hoped it didn’t show. “You made it!” Dr. Weaver sat down next to her.
“Oh, Dr. Weaver, congrats! It was such a beautiful wedding. I apologize for not getting to spend the whole evening at the reception yesterday; I had a bit of trouble with . . .”
“Yes, I noticed. I thought you two were broken up?”
“We are. Only one of us got the memo.”
“I see. No second-chance romance for you two, huh?”
“Definitely not. I regret the first chance.” She didn’t want to bring the conversation down. “But I’m so happy for you and Tim. And I’m so happy I could be here to celebrate with you.”
Kari put an arm around her and gave her a friendly squeeze. “And I’m happy to see you moving on . . . robbing the cradle and everything. You cougar, you. Where is your handsome date, anyway? What’s his name? Jail Bait?”
Winnie’s stomach lurched at the implication; she’d never take advantage of someone like that, and it was disturbing even as a joke. “I wanted to let him sleep in. He doesn’t get much opportunity. And his name is Daniel Durand.” That made her wonder what his middle name was. Maybe she could ask him on the drive home, when they were alone again, just the two of them. “He’s older than he looks, really.” She chuckled, her face burning.
“He looks like he knows how to have fun, that’s what he looks like.”
To her surprise, Winnie’s mind hit “Play” on the memory of driving him home that first time, him stealing her nachos. The Thor bobblehead. Even giving Jackson his shots.
“He does,” she agreed, then stiffened as she realized what Dr. Weaver had meant, but Kari just laughed.
“Who cares if it’s just a fling? Just enjoy yourselves. It’s not like you’re getting married.”
“Right . . .” Winnie shifted her weight in her chair, trying to find a comfortable position for her legs, but unable to.
Dr. Weaver’s eyebrows drew together, and she lowered her voice. “It is just a fling, right?”
“Of course. What else could it be? I needed a date, and he was available.” She laughed uncomfortably, sipping her drink. Winnie’s mouth tasted metallic, and she suddenly wanted something other than orange juice. She reached for a basket of cranberry-walnut scones. “Is everyone teasing you about babies?”
Dr. Weaver laughed out loud. “It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it? I’m in perimenopause already.”
“Lucky.”
“Just wait. You won’t think so.” Something over Winnie’s shoulder caught Dr. Weaver’s eye, and she grinned. “Here comes Sleeping Beauty.”
“Sorry I’m late,” Daniel greeted them, giving her shoulders an affectionate squeeze and the top of her head a quick kiss. Her heart beat a little faster. Just an act. Just for today, she reminded herself. “What’d I miss?”
“Nothing much,” Dr. Weaver said, getting up. “Here, please, come sit by Winnie. I should go mingle anyway. Nice to meet you, Daniel.”
Winnie passed him the mango, honeydew melon, and blueberry salad. Based on her limited observations of the man’s eating habits, he needed as many vitamins and as much fiber as she could provide. She watched him fill his plate, and he gave her several sidelong glances, amusement turning up the corners of his mouth under his beard.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes.”
“How’d you sleep?”
“Badly.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Why’d you sleep bad?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Thinking.”
“Speaking of which, any sign of your nemesis this morning?”
“No.”
“Are you going to answer all my questions with just one word today?”
She smirked. “Maybe.”
“What time did you want to leave this morning?”
Winnie shrugged. “Whenever.”
Daniel chuckled as he sipped a cup of coffee one of the servers had poured for him. “When Winnie Baker commits to a scheme, look out, world.”
She observed him as he ate; it was like watching a gazelle run for its life on Planet Earth. He wasn’t messy, but he packed food away like a bear about to hibernate. What did he do with it all? Moreover, she wasn’t the only one watching. A brunette in her early twenties one table over was whispering to her friend, casting glances in his direction, batting her eyelashes. Daniel was telling Winnie a story about getting a snowmobile stuck three years ago, and he didn’t seem to notice the woman’s overt attempts to get his attention.
“I’m sorry,” she interrupted, “but do you know that woman? She’s been staring at you.”
Daniel turned to look, and the woman waved shyly. Daniel smiled and waved back with his fork. “No, I don’t know her.”
“Why’s she waving, then?”
“Just friendly, I guess?” He took another bite of home-style potatoes. “I think I’ve got one of those familiar faces. Anyway, like I was saying . . .”
Flirting. That woman was flirting with her date right in front of her, because no one over thirty could possibly be dating Daniel. Dr. Weaver wasn’t wrong: he did look young, younger than he really was, and the conservative way she dressed sometimes made Winnie seem older. The brunette flirter probably thought they were siblings or cousins or something—they did look somewhat similar. Winnie’s heart was slowly sinking like a leaf in a swimming pool, just drifting down, down, down as the woman continued to make eyes at her oblivious friend. This was never going to work. Look at what Dr. Weaver had thought of them. Look at what this woman was assuming. No, her purpose here had been accomplished. They’d just be friends from here on out.
She stood up. “I need to finish up my packing. Are you all ready?”
He tapped his temple. “I played it smart. Never unpacked, so leaving is easy.”
Winnie gave him a sad smile as she headed for the lobby’s elevators. No, leaving isn’t easy. I wish I didn’t know how warm the glow of your attention felt, even temporarily. I wish I’d never let you be my date, Daniel Durand. It was far too sweet to give up painlessly.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
WINNIE WAS QUIET ON the drive back to Timber Falls, staring out the passenger window. Daniel tried to engage her over medicine, babies, comic books, TV shows, anything, but he was still getting those same one-word answers. Something had happened at brunch, but he didn’t know what, and he hadn’t known how to bring it up earlier. By the time they got t
o Salem, he was officially distracted over it; he almost missed the exit to Detroit Lake, but thankfully, Winnie nudged him just in time. Daniel tried to curb his obsessive thoughts by watching the scenery as the packed suburbs and cookie-cutter cul-de-sacs faded into manufactured homes and long gravel driveways. Ford and Subaru replaced Audi and Lexus. Horses, sheep, and alpacas replaced fast-food restaurants and convenience stores.
Daniel glanced at her again; she was asleep. That was probably it. She was just tired. They’d had such a strong connection last night; he’d wanted to slap her stupid ex across the state. That kind of riling didn’t happen to him very often, but one look into her fawn-brown eyes and his heart had calmed again. He never wanted anyone to mistreat her, try to manipulate her. Even as a friend, he wanted to have her back; he was glad she hadn’t gone to the wedding alone out of pride or stubbornness. Saying no seemed to be hard for her . . . unless she was saying no to him. He chuckled a little, mostly at himself. He’d never worked this hard for a date before. But he’d never felt about anyone the way he felt about Fred.
“Winnie? We’re here,” he said, shaking her shoulder gently.
She inhaled sharply as she came awake, looking around like she didn’t know where she was, but her shoulders relaxed when she recognized his face, and it made him smile.
“You okay?”
She nodded, stretching, but didn’t get out of the car. They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments.
“I had a good time.”
“I had a good time, too,” she said, massaging the fingers of one hand with the other.
“I’d like to see you again.”
“You’ll see me at the hospital,” she said softly.
“Gosh, I was hoping for fewer sick people and more slow dancing . . .”
She gave him half a smile, but said nothing.
“What are you thinking, Win? I can’t read you.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Right. Well, it wasn’t a no. He could work with a maybe, even if it wasn’t the yes he was sure he’d get last night.
“Okay. I’ll help you with your bag.” He popped the trunk and got out just as Starla and her kids were coming down the apartment steps. She and Ainsley were close; it was partly their mutual love for books and part having grown up together. He’d always liked her, too; she set aside graphic novels for him at the library, for when he had time to read.
“Hey,” he called. “You just gonna walk right by without saying hello?”
“Say hello to Dr. Durand,” Starla instructed Aiden and Emily, and they obeyed. She opened the doors of the minivan remotely. “Go get in the car, please.”
“Everything okay?” he asked, his voice low.
“Mostly. Just needed a little space from him today.”
“Charlie’s at your place?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Don’t know. Never came home last night. I didn’t trust myself not to blow up when he finally waltzed in.” Someone who didn’t know the couple’s tangled, thorny history might have expressed concern for Charlie’s whereabouts, but Daniel knew better. That guy could take care of himself.
“You’ll call me if you need anything?”
“Why?” Starla asked dryly. “You think you can tame my husband?”
“I think lions would be easier,” he said, “but get me a whip and a chair, and I’ll give it a shot.” She laughed a little, and he squeezed her shoulders in a side hug. “Hang in there, Star.”
“Don’t have much of a choice,” she said, backing toward her car with a wry grin. “Hey, Winnie.”
“Hey, Starla. Thanks again for telling me about this place. I owe you big time.”
“Hmm,” Starla mused with a grin, “I’ll have to remember that next time I give birth.” Daniel’s stomach turned; he hoped she wasn’t really still sleeping with Charlie after all the crap he’d pulled. Every time the man cheated on her, he swore it was the last. Daniel had privately encouraged her to consider getting tested for STDs regularly. If that bastard gave her a lifelong illness, Daniel would break all the windows of his stupid Tahoe. And he’d only pay for half of the replacement afterward.
He carried Winnie’s suitcase upstairs for her; Ainsley was just taking down the fort they’d built in the living room. She looked at her watch.
“Oh, you’re home earlier than I thought. How’d it go?”
“Fine,” Winnie said brightly, but Daniel seesawed his hand behind her back to say “sort of.” “Thanks again, Daniel. I’ll see you later.”
“Okay,” he muttered at her quickly retreating form as she disappeared down the hall toward the bedrooms.
“What happened?” Ainsley whispered, folding the plaid fleece blanket she was holding.
“Nothing. Everything was going great last night, but then this morning . . .”
Ainsley’s gaze narrowed. “What kind of great?”
“Give me a little credit. It was our first date.”
“Didn’t seem to matter to you much in the past,” she muttered, and he gave her a sheepish grin.
“I did not sleep with her, Slick. I didn’t even try. I swear.”
“Okay, I’m just saying. She’s my friend and she’s a great roommate. Do not scare her off.”
“I did not—fine. Whatever. I’m leaving.” He wasn’t really mad, and Ainsley would know that. He was, however, ready to be alone with his own thoughts, which was why he changed into his biking gear as soon as he got home. He was just about to close the garage door when his phone rang.
“Hey,” his dad said, and Daniel could hear the rest of his family in the background. He’d already bowed out of family dinner; hopefully, they hadn’t forgotten. He heard a door close behind him, and the noise disappeared.
“Hey. What’s up?”
“Just wanted to see how it went with the midwife.”
“Winnie. And it went . . . okay.” He sighed. “Can I call you later? I was just about to go for a ride.”
“Oh, great. I’ll join you. See you in ten.”
“Wait, Dad, I actually just wanted—” It was too late. His dad had already hung up. With a growl, Daniel stabbed a finger into the keypad to close the door and mounted the bike, making his way through town to his parents’ house.
His dad was waiting for him out front, smiling like nothing was wrong. Daniel didn’t even stop, just circled in front of the house while Evan got on his bike and trusted that he’d follow. He got on the old railroad path that ran along the river and started up the hill toward the falls. They didn’t talk for the first four miles. As his heart rate went up, his resentment went down. It felt good to breathe deep; it wasn’t even raining. It wasn’t sunny, but that felt like too much to ask, and besides, the gray matched his mood. His dad didn’t break the silence until they stopped at the bathrooms at Timber Falls State Park; Daniel hadn’t thought to bring any water, which showed how badly this was messing with his head.
“She didn’t agree to a second date?”
“Nope. Said she’d think about it, though.”
“That’s rough. I’m sorry.”
Daniel grunted.
“You going all the way to the falls?”
“I was planning to, but if you need to turn back . . .”
“Nope. Mom’s roasting chickens. No grill necessary.”
“You’re still ignoring your other family members.”
His dad stepped closer, taking off his helmet to run a microfiber towel over his short hair. “I’m hanging out with my son when he needs me. They understand.”
Daniel wanted to retort that he was neither needed nor invited, but he didn’t want to hurt his feelings. And it wasn’t true, anyway; all his thoughts came spilling out as they exited the parking lot.
“I don’t get why she’s making this so difficult. She’s not that much older than I am, but she acts like it’s this huge barrier to us being together.”
His dad nodded slowly. “It’s a double standard, isn’t it? If you date a younger pers
on, you’re applauded. If she does it, she’s called a cougar or worse. As if falling in love with someone who arrived on earth a few years after you is somehow predatory.”
“I mean, it could be, obviously, but we’re both adults.”
“Right. I can understand why you’re frustrated. But you’re not the one who’s taking a risk. She is.”
“So how do I make it easier for her? She likes me, Dad. I saw it in her eyes. She wants to be with me.”
His dad shrugged and the bike weaved momentarily. “Keep giving her attention. Keep thinking about her and the things she likes. Keep giving yourself. She may change her mind.”
Neither of them were in shape enough to talk through the climb up the steep asphalt path to the top of the waterfalls, but they stopped when they got there. Daniel liked to watch the water hurl itself over the edge, the leaves and sticks swept along with it, droplets flinging up into a fine spray even now, when the water level was low.
“I’m not giving up,” he panted, “not until she says no.”
His dad leaned over to punch him lightly on the shoulder. “I’m rooting for you,” Evan replied, and they watched the waterfall for a minute before silently turning to begin the trip back down. When they pulled up to his parents’ house, his dad turned to him. “Will you come in for dinner? I’m sure Mom made plenty.”
Daniel shook his head. “I’m all sweaty and stuff. I’ll see them next week.”
Evan’s smile said he understood, and Daniel waved as he continued on to his house. He noticed the manila envelope under the welcome mat before he was close enough to see what it was. Throwing down his bike in the grass, he leaped up the front step and snatched it out. Her handwriting was not easy to read, but he was determined.
This seemed a fitting thank you gift, especially after you stayed so calm in the face of Ethan’s nonsense. I really did have fun. Thanks again.
–Fred