The Reluctant Romantics Box Set (The Fall, The Mind, The Heart)

“So what?” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

“He’s waiting, that’s what.” Dallas dismissed me, taking her seat behind her desk before waving me away as if that was the end of it.

I wanted to debate her on what was truly important in this situation, but I knew just how hard she was working to get the center ready. I couldn’t give her hell when I’d been more absent than present.

“Fine.”

Jack was in the lobby where I left him. The incessant noise of power tools kept him from hearing my approach. His back was to me, and he was peering through the glass behind what would eventually be an atrium. Instead of interrupting his assessment, I waited for him to turn around.

Okay, maybe I was staring at his ass.

After endless seconds of ogling his tall frame and sexy derrière, I finally spoke up. “How about a tour?!” I yelled over a newly running saw. When he didn’t respond, I lightly tapped his shoulder and caught his reflection in the glass. He’d seen me checking him out and was grinning from ear to ear.

Way to be professional, Whittaker.

Aside from looking the last year, I had done no touching. My heart still wasn’t in it, no matter who caught my eye. I was determined to get back on the horse, at least in the physical sense, but I was hesitant when it came to execution, not that I’d had many opportunities.

Jack turned to me as if I hadn’t just feasted on his perfect, jean-clad ass.

“Sounds good. I’ve already taken a quick tour of the main floor, and I can see your headache coming. Why don’t we tour the grounds first?”

“I don’t see how you can stand the noise,” I said, making my way to the double glass doors of the entrance.

“I love the noise. It lets me know I’m building something,” he replied. He started to ask questions right away, and I made notes of anything I couldn’t answer. As the queries co

ntinued, I caught his gaze on my lips more than once. I had a horrible time looking away from the eyes that seemed to be saying something else entirely.

As we made our way outside, I searched the parking lot for my father’s truck but came up empty. I was completely on my own.

Jack and I made our way to the golf cart so I could show him the rest of the grounds. The tour became more intimate in our proximity, and I suddenly wished I had checked my appearance before jumping on the cart. Then again, it was so hot; I couldn’t afford to give a damn. I fisted my wild mane through a hair tie on top of my head for some relief, knowing I probably looked like the adult version of Pebbles from The Flintstones.

“As I’m sure you know by the blueprints, this will be a full-service facility. Using a holistic approach, we’ll care for patients with advanced cases in-house through the course of their entire treatment. We want to do something a little different than pump them full of meds, send them home, and hope for shrinking tumors. We want to provide everything from initial diagnosis and treatment to aftercare, including diet, mental, and spiritual ways to help boost morale during recovery.

“Look at the alternative,” I said, turning the key to the cart before I shifted the gear. “You get your chemo in the local hospital, go home and throw up alone at night while trying to hide it from your spouse and terrified children, then go back to work a zombie without any strength. Dallas and I are all for the independent fighter, but we want to change the way this disease is looked at and treated. It’s strongly due to Dallas’s input and her experience as an oncologist. Ultimately, it was her idea to approach treatment as both mental and physical, and not just with a stick of the needle. And here we are.”

He remained quiet, and I began to worry if I’d sold him on the idea. Although his purpose was to prepare the facility, I was curious about his opinion.

“So we grow our own food here to serve the patients. We’ll insist on a strict diet right away—a one hundred percent organic diet—and that’s non-negotiable for all our patients for obvious reasons. Most will feel the effects within the first few weeks.”

“I wasn’t aware of this,” Jack said, surveying our fields.

“It wasn’t in the original plans, just an afterthought. It will all be donated from me to the center because it’s technically my farm. We’ll make sure the food is tested regularly and meets USDA standards, but it cuts costs tremendously.”

“Rose, this is really incredible. What made you decide to open a center?”

“We thought we could do better than simply opening a general practice. It was a lot of things, really. A lot of things,” I said absently. “So we did better, I hope.”

“That’s a coincidence. That’s my uncle’s motto,” he said as he continued his perusal of the never-ending view.

“What was?” I asked as I steered us down the path toward the rest of the facilities. I looked over at him for his response and gave pause when he gave me a heart-stopping grin.

“Do better.”

We took a speed bump at max speed due to my inability to tear my eyes away from Jack. I hit my head hard on the top of the cart and bit my tongue as Jack cursed and grabbed the wheel before we had a chance to abandon the pavement. I managed to stop the cart despite the blinding pain then jumped out in an all-out fit, including tears in my eyes. I jumped around, hysterically flailing my arms, the pain so intense I was wailing new words. “Ghardam, mupherfuter, whatdem hell, owe.” Suddenly whisked into Jack’s arms, he sat down on the grass with me on his lap and stilled me.

“Talk to me, Rose. Is it your head?”

I put my fingers to my lips, recognizing the metallic taste.