Dr. Stud

“Carly! Carly, where is my boarding pass? I thought you printed it off for me last night?”

My assistant is running around my office, trying to find my driver’s license and passport so I can actually get on the plane that is leaving LAX at six a.m. tomorrow. I haven’t actually driven myself anywhere in years, so knowing I will have to drive from Helena to Dylan is stressing me out more than seeing my family for the first time in ten years. I honestly can’t believe that my father asked me design their new stables. When I didn’t come home after Matt died, I thought for sure I’d never hear from them again. But I was in the middle of a huge project in Barcelona, and there was no way I could leave. I was devastated; Matt was my best friend, even though we didn’t talk as much once he married Parrish. Still, me being in Montana for the funeral and losing my job wasn’t going to change anything. I felt like a jerk, but why should that day be different than any other day?

Ten years ago when I walked out on my hometown, and Parrish, I swore I would never go back to Dylan. It wasn’t that I didn’t have feelings for Parrish; I did. Genuine feelings. I’d been infatuated with her since we were kids, even though I never said anything. I was too busy dating cheerleaders, and girls from the college in the next town ... and one really young substitute English teacher. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be with Parris. It was that I knew damn well she was way too good for me. She deserved better. And she got it in Matt.

Now, I’ve been in Los Angeles for ten years. I put myself through college with scholarships, then got my masters in architecture, and started working at one of the most prestigious firms in the city. I worked my way up from the bottom, and now I’m a partner, living the life one would expect from a single guy in LA making a shit-ton of money. A different girl every weekend, a different project in a different country every six months. I love it. But at the same time, I’ve never been able to get Parrish out of my mind.

And that makes me feel like an even bigger shit than I already am.

When Matt and Parrish got married, my mother called me and begged me to come home, even if it was just for the reception. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t watch the only woman I’d ever loved marry my brother. Mom had no idea how I felt about Parrish… no one really did. I don’t even know if she ever told Matt what happened between us and I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. I left her like the asshole I am and she moved on. She had every right to.

But I still think about her all of the time.

“Got it!” Carly yells, waving my passport and driver’s license at me, startling me out of my mindless reverie. She walks over and hands them to me, and I slip them into the front pocket of my briefcase.

“Thanks, Carly. Is the car booked for Helena?”

She hands me a slip of paper. “Luxury SUV. How long is the drive to Dylan?”

“Four hours,” I say with a groan. “I’m not looking forward to it. It’s beautiful, but it’s… dull.”

“Hawk… why did you take this job if you don’t really want to do it?”

I poke through my bag and make sure that the plans I drafted up are there. “Because it’s my family. And it’s the first time they’ve asked me for anything that matters. I haven’t exactly been there for them, and I guess this my way of repaying them a little bit.”

Carly nods. “I get it. Sort of. You don’t exactly talk about them a lot.”

“Yeah, well, there are reasons for that.” I flinch. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that to sound so shitty. It’s just… complicated.”

“It’s family. When isn’t it complicated?”

I chuckle. “You’re right about that. Did you clear my schedule for the next month?”

She shakes her head. “I did. Dennis wasn’t thrilled that you’re using all of the vacation time you’ve accrued at once but he also couldn’t tell you no. So. I’d suggest you sneak out of here before getting caught. Oh, and avoid all emails while you’re gone.”

I grab my bags and throw my briefcase on top of my roller suitcase. “I’ll do what I can. I’m going to get out of here and just stay in one of the hotels near the airport so I can get there early. Call me if you need anything.”

Carly gives me a quick hug and then I dash for the elevators, trying to avoid running into Dennis Bradford, the managing partner at my architecture firm, Bradley & Simon Design. But of course, as I skid to a stop in front of the elevator doors, they open, and Dennis is standing inside, glaring at me.

“Leaving for your vacation, McCormick?”

I force a smile. “It’s hardly a pleasure trip. It’s a working vacation, Dennis. I’m designing a state-of-the-art stable for one of the most respected horse ranches in the country.”

Dennis raises an eyebrow at me. “A stable, you say? What is your plan?”

I hike my bag up on my shoulder and try not to sigh dramatically, since I just want to get out of here as fast as possible. “My plan is to use the Royal Stables at Versailles for inspiration. Lots of natural wood and soft light in the interior, but with technology upgrades to increase the comfort of the animals. The exterior will be more in tune with feel of Montana. I’m thinking a log cabin look, leading out to a brand new riding area. I still have to run the designs by the ranch owner, but I don’t suspect a lot of pushback.”

Dennis taps his finger against his chin. “I’m going to contact some friends at a few design magazines. If you’re going to be gone for a month, it shouldn’t be a total loss for the firm. You better not duck my calls if I try to get in touch with you.”

“Of course not, sir,” I say through gritted teeth as I walk past him on to the elevator. I pull out my phone and pretend that I see an important email. “Ah, shit. Looks like my client is demanding a call. Can I get back to you once I get settled in Montana?”

He scowls at me. “Fine. But I’m seriously, McCormick. If anyone calls you from the magazines, you better answer.”

I salute him as the doors shut, then once they are firmly closed, I flip him off and slide my phone back in my pocket. When I get outside the building, the car is already waiting to take me to the hotel, where I will have eight hours to sit, and contemplate how I’m going to deal with seeing my family again for the first time in eight years.

And Parrish.

What the fuck am I going to say to Parrish?