Resisting Her English Doc

“Don’t they just.” He raised an eyebrow, and a trickle of embarrassment ran down Fleur’s spine. Maybe he’d like it if she saw the error of her ways, but Rick wasn’t in possession of all the facts.

“Brady’s Bistro and Bakery is down there.” Fleur ignored the obvious dig, and pointed toward the other end of the row of shops.

“Brady’s...? Wait a minute, the sheriff owns a bakery?”

“It would be handy, wouldn’t it? You could pay your fine and pick up your cake at the same time. But, no, Fiona and Tom Brady own the bakery. Jim Brady is Tom’s younger brother and he’s the sheriff. See, I’m a mine of information, and all you have to do is ask.”

Rick rolled his eyes. Perhaps he was beginning to realize just how irritating it was to have someone be one step ahead of you all the time. He picked up the pink library bag, and turned, opening the passenger door of the car.

“Get in.”

* * *

A woman who seemed to know and be liked by everyone, but who preferred to stay away from the town and skulk in her hospital room. It was a mystery worthy of any self-respecting crime novel, and one that was baffling Rick. He drove the length of Main Street until he reached a shop with gleaming paintwork and a neat fifties-style sign.

“This is the one?” He maneuvered into a parking space outside.

“Yes.”

“You’re sure? Because you’re coming in with me this time.”

“Okay. I’ll get you a grilled cheese sandwich.” She grinned at him. “One of the official residence requirements for the island. One of Fiona Brady’s grilled cheese sandwiches.”

“One of many, I’m thinking...”

“Hundreds.”

Fleur managed to get out of the car without his help this time, walking slowly across the sidewalk toward Brady’s Bistro and Bakery. A young, red-haired girl rushed forward to open the door for her, moving chrome-topped tables and chairs out of the way to allow Fleur through to one of the booths against the wall.

“What will you have, Fleur?” Their smiling waitress obviously knew Fleur too.

“We’ll take two grilled cheese sandwiches please, Jess. Make sure the tea’s good and strong, my doctor friend needs it. He’s just been into the Sunbeam bakery and asked Phoenix Flame if he’s got the cake for the clinic.”

The red-haired girl giggled, her cheeks flushing. “I’ll get Aunt Fiona to put the cake in a box for you.”

Two cups and saucers, edged with fifties-style patterns, were set on the table, followed by napkins and cutlery. The sandwiches looked crisp and well filled, set on matching plates. Fleur picked up the teapot and poured the tea.

Now was as good a time as any to broach the subject. Fleur couldn’t get back to the hospital without him, so she was about as much of a captive audience as she was ever going to be. There were plenty of breakables around, but he was just going to have to take that risk.

“So...the island’s a great place. From what I’ve seen of it so far.”

She nodded. “It’s lovely.”

“But you want to get back to Boston.”

“Yes, I do.” Fleur’s attention was on her sandwich as she nibbled carefully at one corner so as not to burn her mouth.

“I can help you with that. But it’s not going to be as easy as you think.”

She looked up at him. “And how easy do I think it’s going to be? Since you seem to know everything.”

Rick knew enough. He knew all about having his life shattered, and making every mistake in the book as a result of that. And he knew how hard it had been to pick himself back up and put it all together again.

“You think that Boston’s just a ferry ride away. That all you have to do is wait out your time at the clinic.”

“I wouldn’t say I was waiting it out. You know full well that I’ve been to all my physio sessions, even if I do only get graded as three out of five for them.” She tre

ated him to a little jut of her chin, before turning her attention back to her food.