Ethan had called her around four o’clock to report Gray was home and looking forward to seeing her later. As soon as the clinic closed for the day, she drove to the Four Square Café, picked up a container of their chicken vegetable soup and a couple of pieces of pecan pie, and headed for Gray’s house.
The ice that had blanketed the area yesterday was gone, so the curving road up the hill wasn’t difficult to negotiate. She parked in the circular drive and debated whether to ring the doorbell. If he was resting, she didn’t want to disturb him. Walking on his injured knee would be difficult.
She tried the front door; it was unlocked. Easing inside, she looked around. Gray was asleep on the couch, an Indian print blanket covering him. On the coffee table sat a bottle of water and two bottles of prescription medicine. Apparently Ethan had gotten everything set up nicely before he left.
Amy tiptoed past the living room and entered the kitchen. She’d never needed to locate anything in this room, but Gray’s utensils, pots and pans were as orderly as everything else in his life. She had no trouble heating up the soup and making hot tea. In the cupboard she found crackers, salt and pepper.
“Ethan?”
“No, it’s Amy,” she answered. She walked back into the living room to find Gray propping himself up against the back of the couch. He looked uncomfortable, to say the least. She imagined he was in pain, despite the medication. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I rolled my car down a hill,” he answered, attempting a smile. “Thank goodness for air bags.”
“Have you taken anything?”
Gray nodded, then winced at the movement. “Before Ethan left.”
He wasn’t even looking at her. This man, who had always given her undivided attention, now found it difficult to meet her eyes. Oh, she knew she was being silly. He was in pain, he felt helpless, and his life had been disrupted. Still, she felt disappointed. In her own way, she was as helpless as Gray to change the situation.
“I brought some dinner. Something light, something a bit more decadent,” she said cheerfully.
“Sounds good. They didn’t bring me much in the hospital.”
“I’ll get you a tray.”
“I can get up.” He pushed up from the cushions.
She placed a hand on his arm. “There’s no need. You should rest your knee and your ribs.”
He slumped back, looking up at her for the first time. “You’re the doctor.”
She turned away so he didn’t see the disappointment on her face. Now she was a doctor, not his fiancée, not his lover. It’s just the accident, she tried to tell herself. This was temporary. After he felt better, things would return to normal.
But as she finished heating the soup, she wondered if anything would be the same, or if Gray would forever resent her declaration of love.
Chapter Fourteen
“No, Mother, I’m fine. Just a little sore and bruised.”
“Maybe you should come back to Dallas and have our specialists look at you, Gray. You can’t possibly be receiving the best medical care in that small town.”
He looked across the room at Amy, who was adding another log to the fire. She’d given him excellent medical care, plus provided for every personal need. She’d been perfect.
“Believe me, Mother, the medical care here is excellent.”
Amy turned, gave him a shy smile, and walked across to sit on the other end of the couch.
“I’ll call you in a week or so and we’ll make new plans. Good night, Mother.”
After she said good night and he hung up the phone, he turned to Amy. “She’s taking the news pretty well. I suppose I’m lucky she didn’t see me,” he said, touching the bruise on his cheekbone. As Amy had predicted, his bruises and abrasions now looked even worse than immediately after the accident.
“You didn’t mention the engagement,” Amy said, her tone more tentative than usual.
“I’d rather tell them in person. I’ve learned over the years not to break important news to them over the phone.”
“So a potentially fatal car accident isn’t serious, but an engagement is?”
She sounded a bit angry, not at all like Amy.
“That’s not what I meant. The call was to cancel a weekend visit, not to tell them any specifics,” he answered calmly.
Amy shook her head. “I suppose I don’t understand your relationship with your parents.”
“There’s really nothing to understand. We get along very well as long as we’re not forced into intimate situations.”
“I see.” She stood up, adjusting her sweater and chinos. “Well, if you don’t need me for anything else, I’ll be going.”
“What’s your rush?”
“I have an early day tomorrow.”
He couldn’t stop a frown, but decided not to push the issue. Amy had done so much for him that any quibbling would be petty. She was probably tired. Maybe he should have asked her to stay the night these past two days, but with his injuries, he’d spent most of the time on the couch, his knee propped up on pillows. She’d come for lunch, and then back at night both days.
“Thank you again for everything. When I get better, I’m going to make this up to you.”
Amy grew very still, standing beside the couch with wounded eyes. “This isn’t a competition. No one’s keeping score.”
“That’s not what I—”
“I have to go,” she said, twirling away from him.
“Amy, don’t go!”
“I have to. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
SHE BARELY MADE IT OUT the door before the tears began. She knew he was hurting and on meds that could alter anyone’s disposition. As a doctor she should excuse his comments to her and his mother. But as a woman—his fiancée—she sensed a change unrelated to his accident or his injuries. Something was wrong, terribly wrong, with their relationship. She shouldn’t have told him how she felt. Her confession of love was now a wedge between them. He couldn’t forget what she’d said, and she wouldn’t take the words back. How could she, when they were true?
Wrenching open the door to her car, she sat very still for a moment while she tried to calm down enough to drive. She had to get out of here soon, before Gray noticed the car hadn’t left the drive and tried to hobble out. He didn’t need the strain on his knee, plus she didn’t think she could face his questions about why she’d run out.
We get along very well as long as we’re not forced into intimate situations. How very telling. He’d been brought up to be distant, reserved. He’d created such a powerful persona that everyone wanted to go out with him, and once they did, they wanted the challenge of getting the second date. The one he’d never granted until she came along and offered their pretend dates.
No one’s keeping score. Wrong. Everyone had been keeping score all along. The town, her dad, and even herself. She’d scored the biggest prize, Prince Charming, the man everyone else wanted. The funny thing was, she didn’t want him if it meant she could never expect him to open up, to share himself as she wanted to share herself.
Inserting the key, she started the engine and revved it a few times to let him know she was leaving. When her hands were steady, when her vision was no longer distorted by tears, she put the car into gear and drove away from Gray’s house.
Confronting Gray when he was still recovering would be unfair. She’d wait until he was better, then talk to him about how he felt. She wondered if he could overlook the fact his fiancée was in love with him, or if that would, ironically, become an irreparable wedge between them.
WHEN AMY CAME BACK THE next day, Gray knew she was trying to be as normal and casual as possible. She inspected his injuries, commented on his improved mobility and encouraged him to keep up the good work.
She acted just like any other competent, caring physician. Where was his sweet fiancée, the woman who believed she was in love with him?
He’d done something to disappoint her, but damned if he knew what. They’d been talking ab
out his slightly dysfunctional family, then about not mentioning the engagement. His reasons were perfectly logical, and if she knew his mother, Amy would understand. There was no way he could casually mention he’d asked someone to marry him.
He couldn’t remember anything he’d said that would have made Amy so unhappy. When he’d tried to talk about what was wrong, she’d claimed nothing. She’d said it innocently, as clear-eyed as possible for someone who wasn’t a good liar.
Dammit, he didn’t know how to make her talk to him.
When she came back that night, he was off the pain pills. His knee no longer throbbed, his head wasn’t hurting, and he was determined to communicate with Amy—perhaps in the way that worked best.
AMY SENSED A DIFFERENCE in Gray as soon as she walked in the door. His gaze followed her as she put together dinner. He spoke politely as they ate, asking about her day, but his eyes held a hunger for something beyond chicken pot pies and peach cobbler.
She tried her best to be cheerful, but she had a suspicion he knew something was wrong. Had he figured out why she’d rushed out of his house two days ago? If so, would he say anything? They’d never had this type of tension between them, even during that first date.
“I’ll help you,” he said as she began to clear the dishes.
“Your knee.”
“It feels much better. I need to be up and around on it a little.”
“Well, be careful.”
In no time they had the dishes in the dishwasher, the remaining cobbler in the commercial-grade refrigerator and the towel neatly folded across the pristine, seamless counters in his high-tech kitchen. She flipped off the light, ready to go into the living room, when Gray came up behind her.
“I’ve missed you,” he murmured against her neck, just below her ear.
Shivers ran across her skin as his arms encircled her waist. “Gray! What are you doing?”
“Am I that much out of practice?”
“But…your injuries.”
“My doctor, who is very talented, by the way, claims I’m almost as good as new.”
“I don’t remember saying that.”
“Close enough,” he said before trailing his lips down her neck. She’d worn a loose cowl-neck sweater, which he had no trouble pushing aside to continue his quest downward.
She tried to muster up some anger. After all, they couldn’t solve problems with sex. But his hands had moved up to her breasts, cupping her, and his lips continued to torment that sensitive spot where her shoulder and neck joined, and they’d been apart for so long.
And, after all, she loved him.
“I’m not up to carrying you up the stairs tonight, but would you consider joining me on the couch?”
“It depends,” she said, closing her eyes against the exquisite sensations of him teasing her nipples into tight buds, “on what you have in mind.”
“My intentions are purely dishonorable.”
“In that case, yes.” She grabbed his hands and reluctantly pulled them to her waist. Smiling back over her shoulder, she walked toward the couch where he’d spent so many hours recently. Tonight, she’d give him some happy memories of those cushions. And maybe, in the aftermath, when their hearts were beating as one, they would regain the feeling of closeness they’d lost in the past few days.
Maybe he’d realize there was more to their relationship than keeping the town happy, enjoying the Hill Country and sharing some pretty spectacular passion.
THE NEXT DAY GRAY returned to his office for a few hours, catching a ride until his knee was dependable enough to drive. And until he got a replacement car while his insurance company settled the claim.
His staff had kept the business running fine with only a few daily phone calls and e-mails from him, but getting back to work felt good. As he’d told Amy, he loved this company like it was his family. He’d actively developed the technology, he’d hired the best managers and he’d worked hard to create a climate of trust and cooperation among the high-tech workers.
While he waited for his marketing manager to finish up for the afternoon and pull his car around to the front, Gray had time to think. As well as things were going at the office, he couldn’t say the same for his personal life. Last night he and Amy had made sweet, slow love on his couch. He’d encouraged her to be bold, and she hadn’t hesitated to take the lead. He got a funny feeling in his chest when he remembered how she’d looked, lying naked above him, taking him into her body. How her eyes had drifted close, how her sigh had mingled with his.
He got aroused just remembering the night. But as much as he’d enjoyed making love, he felt as though she were waiting for something else. The tension that had been in the air earlier returned, slowly but surely, as their overheated bodies cooled and their heart rates returned to normal.
She wanted to say “the words” again, but wouldn’t. He could tell. He knew Amy better than he had ever imagined he’d know another person. She had the most honest, expressive face. Once she’d told him she was a terrible liar, and he believed her. He wondered how she’d ever deceived her father about their relationship.
He propped his knee up on another chair he’d pulled close and looked out the windows of his corner office. The hills stretched out in a rolling sea of tan and beige, with occasional outcropping of gray rocks and faded green live oaks. Spring couldn’t come fast enough for him. He wanted to see everything burst to life, to shake off the drab colors of winter and become a showplace once more.
He wanted to see summer come to the Hill Country, and with it, his wedding. He waited for the sense of panic he always anticipated when thinking of marriage, but it didn’t materialize. He did feel a sense of unease, however, when he thought about Amy. She had high expectations for this union. With every decision she made about dresses or announcements or flowers, she got one step closer to the romanticized version of happily-ever-after. If she wanted him to go into the occasion with the same romantic notions, she would be disappointed. As far as he was concerned, they were getting married for very logical, sound reasons. No amount of flowers or ribbons would change the fact that he and Amy were two very compatible people. He certainly hoped she could understand and accept his feelings on this issue.
“Mr. Phillips,” his administrative assistant called from the doorway, “your ride is here.”
He pushed aside thoughts of Amy and the wedding for now. His half day at the office had left him tired and out of sorts, and he needed to get home, take a pain pill and stop thinking about the brief flash of disappointment he’d seen in Amy’s eyes last night.
ON FRIDAY EVENING, Amy and Gray accepted an invitation to dinner at Robin and Ethan’s house. Since Gray was feeling much better and his bruises were fading, she thought getting out was a good idea. He’d spent a few hours at the office on Friday, but she knew he was going stir-crazy in the house. He was a man used to an active life, so sitting around watching television or reading hardly kept him busy.
Besides, they needed a night out. The tension she’d felt upon entering his house Thursday evening hadn’t dissipated after they’d made love. Having a friendly dinner in a casual setting was probably just what everyone needed.
She parked her car, watching Gray closely as he moved his legs to exit her much smaller vehicle. He didn’t appear to be in pain from his knee, which was an excellent sign. He was healing fast. They could get on with the wedding plans and the announcement to his parents.
The thought caused her to draw in her breath at a funny, fluttering feeling in her stomach. First, she realized, they needed to eliminate this tension between them.
Gray rang the doorbell, then Ethan and Robin were both there, greeting them, making them welcome. The interior of the home was warm and spacious, decorated in a Southwest style Amy liked. The only thing out of place was a large recliner that she suspected had belonged to Ethan before the wedding, because it didn’t look like anything a professional decorator like Robin would choose. Delicious smells drifted through the open
floor plan of the house, making Amy’s mouth water and her stomach grumble.
“We’re having pot roast with vegetables,” Robin said, tucking a strand of honey blond hair behind her ear. “I have to tell you now that Ethan is the cook in the family. He’s been trying to teach me, but I’m still having trouble with anything harder than boiling water or microwaving popcorn.”
Amy laughed at her admission. “I like to cook, but I’m hardly a gourmet chef. Gray, on the other hand, is highly suspect. The times he’s cooked for me, the food was delicious. Far more tasty than one could expect from a bachelor.”
“A confirmed bachelor at that,” Ethan said, coming up behind his wife and putting his arms around her waist, splaying his fingers across her stomach. Robin turned her head and smiled at him, love shining from both their eyes.
Amy had to look away; the moment was so intense, so intimate.
“I’m divorced, remember?” Gray reminded his friend. He obviously hadn’t noticed the loving exchange. Either that, or it didn’t bother him in the least. “I’m supposed to be domesticated, unlike a true bachelor. You, on the other hand, are a freak of nature—a real bachelor who could cook, clean house and take care of the yard.”
“Hey, my aunt and parents taught me well. That’s one reason I was such a good catch for Robin. No wonder she chased me down so fast.”
“Chased you down! I did no such thing!” She sounded more amused than outraged, Amy thought. Robin and Ethan truly had a wonderful relationship.
“Would you like a beer or some wine?” Ethan asked.
“Wine would be fine,” Amy answered.
“For me too. I’m off those damned pain pills that made me goofy.”
Maybe that had been the problem between them. Amy thought perhaps she’d imagined that her declaration had changed their relationship.
Ethan poured a red wine into two glasses, then grabbed a beer from the kitchen for himself. “You’re not having anything?” Amy asked Robin as she passed out cocktail napkins.
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