Which meant that Franklin had to spend hours fixing it whenever the golf cart gave out.
Again.
By the time he got it up and running again, Franklin was ready to shut his shop down early. He tried to ignore the little voice in the back of his head that said he was only closing up because he couldn’t wait to see what Gloria came up with while he was gone.
And then he drove his truck up the mountain path that led to their cabins and he couldn't believe it.
She’d gone too far this time.
The two cabins looked exactly the same. From the roof to the ground, Gloria must have spent the entire day decking his home out. It wasn’t just garland this time, either. It was garland and wrapping paper on the door, lights strung along the edge of each window and the roof, even a poinsettia set next to his door.
Hopping out of his car, Franklin marched right over to her front door. He didn’t know if he wanted to shake her for her impertinence—or grab her close and kiss her like he’d been dying to do since she walked into his garage. His head was still whirring, eyes almost blinded from the glitter and glitz and lights that turned his basic cabin into a fixture straight out of Santa’s workshop, as he knocked on her door.
He stood there for a minute or two. No answer. He tried again, then cocked his head, hoping he could hear the pitter-patter of her cute, little feet coming toward the door.
Wait—
“Hark the herald angels sing, ‘Glory to the newborn king…”
He didn’t hear footsteps, though he did hear something.
“…peace and earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled’…”
Someone was singing. A little off-key, and with some feeling, but that was definitely singing.
And it was coming from behind his house.
Franklin jogged toward the back of his cabin. He saw the ladder first, then the bundled-up woman who was standing near the top of it. Gloria was holding a string of lights as she pinned them along the bottom of the roof. She was wearing headphones beneath her earmuffs, the source of the music she was singing along to.
So engrossed in her project and her song, she didn’t notice him striding toward her.
“Gloria? Hey, Gloria.” Cupping his mouth, Franklin raised his voice. “Gloria!”
That finally caught her attention. One problem, though. As soon as she heard his shout, she gave a jerk, turning to look down at him. She was so startled, she let go of the ladder when she jumped and missed the rung with her left hand. For a second, she held onto the string of lights in her right hand, but as petite as she was, it wasn’t enough to support her weight. The strand slipped right through her fingers and, suddenly, she was falling.
“Gloria!”
9
Everyone in Hamlet knew Lucas De Angelis—and not only because he was the only doctor in town. The man definitely had a reputation.
Even Gloria had heard about him a couple of times. The townspeople all spoke about him like he was a miracle worker. No matter what was wrong with you, a couple of visits to Dr. De Angelis would fix you right up. Plus, he was married to the sheriff in town who, by all accounts, was both the luckiest and most jealous woman in Hamlet.
That made sense to Gloria as soon as she got her first peek at the man.
He was absolutely gorgeous. Like, movie star gorgeous. The doctor was a tall man, with a lean build and lovely olive-toned skin. His longish hair was raven-black, meticulously parted on the left and swooped to the side. His features were sculpted perfection, from his sharp jaw and classic nose to the pale, ice-blue eyes that shocked against his darker skin.
If it wasn’t the fact that she had Franklin pacing nervously at her side, the twinge in her wrist and the pain in her back to worry about, she might have been more stunned at just how handsome the doctor was. At the moment, it was only like the fifth most important thing for her to focus on.
Her accident was up there, concern for Franklin close behind. He totally freaked when she got up and, okay, maybe her wrist probably wasn’t supposed to bend that way, but did he really have to pick her up, carry her to his truck, and speed down the mountain path as if her fall was some kind of accident?
Franklin seemed to think so. And now, after he helped her inside of Dr. De Angelis’s mountainside office, she realized that the most important thing on her mind was just how attracted she was to her neighbor. The man scared her enough to have her slip off of the ladder and land in a heap on the snow-covered ground, and she still couldn’t help but think his rugged features had an edge over the doctor’s perfect face.
As soon as the doctor led them to an examination room, Franklin lifted her up onto the table, then backed off.
Dr. De Angelis gave her a smile that didn’t seem to quite reach his icy blue eyes. “Who do we have here?”
“Gloria, this is Doctor De Angelis. Doc, this is Gloria Watson. Patti Hammond’s great-niece.”