Second Time's the Charm

There was no way she could pretend to herself that Jon and Abe were simply a job to her. She cared deeply about all of her patients, but her feelings toward Jon and Abe were...personal.

And when it got personal, she feared the worst. Because she’d lived through the worst and couldn’t go through it a second time.

Stopping the truck in her driveway, Jon shut off the engine and turned to her. “Caroline knows that I’m helping at your house. What else did you tell her?”

“Nothing about Abe’s issues, if that’s what you’re wondering. I don’t?”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” Jon interrupted. “I meant about our...friendship. Won’t she find it odd that we’re in the car together on a Sunday afternoon?”

She hadn’t thought about that. Or cared. Nodding, she said, “I’ll tell her that...”

She couldn’t think. Not with his arm on the back of the seat so close to touching her.

“Just tell her you were working. You have my permission to mention Abe’s crowd issue if you want to. If that’s what this is about.”

He’d given her the easy way out. Take it. Take it. Take it.

“It’s not.”

Frowning, Jon glanced at his son still asleep in the backseat and said, “Look, Lillie, you have no worries where I’m concerned. I know I screwed up the other night, but you don’t have to worry that it’s going to happen again.”

He was so close. And his distance was driving her to craziness. “I think part of what worries me is that it might not.”

His breathing seemed to stop. And she turned hot. And then cold. She’d make a mistake.

“Are you coming on to me?” The question was soft, intimate.

There was a two-year-old sleeping a couple of feet away. One she couldn’t take any further into her heart.

“No.” Was she? “At least I don’t think I am. I’m just... The other night, you said we both acknowledged...” For someone whose entire life was dedicated to finding the right words to soothe people she was failing miserably. “But I really don’t want anything more than friendship.”

She couldn’t take on Jon’s son. Not as her own. She’d smother him. Worry herself sick over every little hiccup. Or hand signal.

She honestly did not want to marry again. Ever.

“I’d like to tell Caroline that we’re friends. If she asks. Which I know she will.”

“That’s fine.”

But that wasn’t all she wanted.

“You do realize how a small town works, don’t you?”

“I’ve never lived in one—at least, not long enough to become part of the gossip mill, but I’ve heard about them. From what I understand, Shelter Valley is a pretty tight-knit community.”

“That’s right.”

He studied her and she could see something going on in his eyes.

“What?”

“I was told, I’m not saying by who, that you’re in pretty tight with a lot of folks here.”

“They’re like family to me.” Where was this leading? Her heart racing, libido pounding at her core, Lillie admonished herself for behaving like a teenager. Jon was just a man.

“I was...warned.”

“Warned off?” It was her turn to frown. Who would want her to not be friends with Jon? And why?