by Fran Rizer
"I learned that the first time I lived with Jane," I said, "but the results were a nasty dinner, not a poisoning."
"Frank asked me not to say anything to her because he was the one who last used the bug spray and he was the one who made a pig of himself and ate an entire dish of lemon bars, consuming a lot of the spray. He swears they didn’t taste bad."
"Thank you for not telling Jane," I said.
"This thing hurts." Wayne pointed his left hand to his right. "I’m heading home." He looked around. "I see Otis and Odell here. Who’s minding the mortuary? Denise or Darlene?"
"Darlene left yesterday. Just like Odell said, those two can only put up with so much of each other. Denise is manning my desk, and she’ll even stay after dark because Odell discovered a cat in the attic with three baby kittens. That’s what Denise heard and thought were ghost sounds."
"How about Big Boy? Has he recovered from the neutering?"
I blushed again. "I haven’t had time to take him. I missed his appointment and have to reschedule."
Wayne looked across the room and said, "I see your date has arrived."
Dr. Donald Walters walked toward us. Knowing I wasn’t dating anyone special and that bridesmaids hate to be without an escort, he’d invited me to come with him. Problem was that he’d been called in on an emergency right after we arrived at the church. He approached Wayne and me with a sheepish, apologetic look.
"Sorry," he said. "I had no idea it would take so long. Thanks for taking care of my date, Sheriff Harmon."
"No problem, but I’m glad you’re here. This hand is giving me fits. I’m going home, take a pain pill, and lie down."
"That’s the thing to do. The body needs rest to heal."
Donald and I danced a few times. He asked, "How’s Jane?"
"She’s fine. She and Frank are leaving from here to go to the mountains."
"Has she been to the doctor yet?"
"That’s next week."
"You know what’s wrong with her, don’t you?" Donald asked when we stopped dancing and went for punch.
"Is she pregnant?" I questioned as Donald handed me a punch cup.
"That’s for the doctor to tell her," he said.
"You’re a doctor." I confess I cut him a flirtatious look.
"I’m not her doctor, but I want to be your doctor."
"You are. Every time anyone in my family is hurt or sick, you’re there. You’ve been my doctor when I was hospitalized with concussions, too."
"That’s not what I mean, and you know it."
"I haven’t heard any recent rumors that you’re dating every female that goes through the hospital," I said.
"I’m not. I’m looking for one woman and I want to be a one-woman man." He surprised me so much that my cup of orange punch spilled all over my dress. Donald tried to wipe it off with napkins, and it was hard to ignore his touch.
"I want to go home," I said.
"You don’t want to try to catch the bride’s bouquet?" he asked.
"Not really. I’d rather go to the apartment and change."
The ride in the doctor’s new Porsche was comfortable except for the wet dress. When we arrived, Big Boy met us at the door with his leash in his mouth. Donald took him for a walk while I changed. I’d showered and slipped into shorts and a T-shirt when they came back into the apartment. Big Boy rushed to me in my room. Donald followed him.
"So I finally get to see your bedroom," he said.
I didn’t say anything. He took me in his arms, hugged me, and kissed me. The kiss started out very tender, but it didn’t take long to turn hot. I kissed back.
"Are you thinking what I’m thinking?" he asked softly.
I didn’t say a word, led Big Boy into the living room, and returned to my bedroom.
I closed the door.
~ The End ~
About the Author
Fran Rizer is the author of the Callie Parrish Mysteries. She lives in South Carolina. Readers may learn more about her, check out recipes for some of the foods mentioned in the books, and correspond with her on the website. www.franrizer.com