Falling for the Dr (A Small Town Medical RomCom)

That kiss had been gentle and hot and sweet, everything a first kiss should be.

“We spent some time together for about a week, ten days,” I clarified because apparently it still mattered to me. “He asked me to the Autumn Harvest dance, and I stupidly said yes. He never showed up.”

There, that was the entire story.

Shock crossed my brother’s face, followed by understanding, and finally, a flash of sympathy that looked a hell of a lot like pity. “Oh, Teddy, he didn’t—”

I shook my head and snatched the pork back. “I don’t care, Antonio. I’ve already dissected it enough, and I’m not interested in hearing your brotherly platitudes. You asked and I told you. End of story.”

I had spent too many months—hell, too many years—after that night wondering what I did to make him stand me up. I was done trying to figure it out.

“Listen, Teddy, it’s not what you think.”

“I don’t care. It’s in the past and there’s no risk of me repeating my mistakes. I’ll do the job if he accepts the bid and keep it professional, because that’s all that’s required. He’s your friend, not mine.”

Antonio held his hands up defensively. “Fine, be stubborn. Just go easy on Cal, will you?”

I couldn’t promise my brother that, because we didn’t lie to each other. Ever. “If he’s an easy client, then he won’t have any troubles from me.”

“In that case, I guess I’ll make some popcorn and enjoy the show, because Cal will be anything but easy when it comes to his bachelor pad.”

Bachelor pad. I rolled my eyes at yet another reminder of who Cal used to be and who he still was.

Cal

“Do me a favor, Tom. The next time you get a hankering to tango with your fence, don’t.”

The crusty old rancher’s sun-hardened lips tugged into a reluctant grin before he let out a laugh that sounded like it hadn’t been used in years.

“I’ll do my best, Doc Rutledge, but I can’t make any promises. I thought old Sarah Beth was caught up in the fences again.”

“Was she?”

“No.” He let out another bark of laughter, wincing slightly as I finished up the last few stitches. “It was a damn coyote, if you can believe it. Once I got close and tried to free the damn thing, it was too late to turn back. I couldn’t let him suffer.”

“You’re a good man, Tom. Foolish, but good.” I gave him a couple of prescriptions that he likely wouldn’t get filled, then sent the old guy on his way.

“I don’t need all this, Doc. Mary’s got some ointments I could put on the wounds if I need it.”

“Tom,” I growled. “At least get the antibiotics so you don’t get an infection.”

“All right, fine. Whatever you say.”

“Good.” I clapped him on the back and walked him toward the lobby, where I found my best friend waiting with his little girl. “Did Princess Rosie come to see her favorite subject?”

Rosie’s skin was pale except the skin around her eyes, which was a dangerous shade of red—a sign she’d recently suffered an asthma attack.

Rosie nodded and slowly ambled over to me before wrapping her little arms around my legs. “The princess needs to see the royal doctor.”

Antonio was on his feet in a flash, worry written all over his face, the lines appearing deeper as he drew closer. “She’s having breathing problems again, really bad. I just cooked some pepper to infuse an oil, and all of a sudden she’s wheezing and gasping for air. What did I do, man?”

I clapped Antonio on the back and flashed my reassuring doctor smile. “It’s the smoke from the pepper, even if you can’t see it. Makes me cough, too, and I don’t have breathing problems like little Rosie.”

Even as a doctor, I found it terrifying to witness Rosie’s attacks. They came on suddenly, they were vicious as hell, and outside a pulmonary unit, they left every adult in the room feeling powerless.

“The honest answer is you won’t know which foods might trigger her, particularly spices, until she reacts.”

Antonio scoffed in disbelief. “And what if she doesn’t get help in time?”

“You’re ten minutes from the clinic and five from my house, so please stop freaking out.” He was a parent, wholly responsible for the bubbly little girl, so I understood his fear and when he opened his mouth to say something more, I stopped him. “You freak, and then she freaks out and that will definitely cause breathing problems.”

Those words took all the steam from whatever his next argument would have been.

“Yeah, fine. You have time to check her out?”

“Let’s check the princess out, shall we?” I bowed to Rosie and she gifted me with a lovely little giggle.

“You may,” she said in her haughtiest royal tone.

I helped Rosie up on the exam table, listening to her breathing and checking her vitals.