Dark Kiss Of The Reaper (28 page)

Meredith leaned forward. “Completely sold out, if you can believe it.” She glanced in his direction. He ducked his head down over the book he was supposed to be signing and finished his signature with a flourish. Had she caught him eavesdropping?

He stole a sideways glance. She nodded into space, eyes straight ahead. “Sounds lovely. See you then.”

She hung up and tucked the phone back into her purse.

“You’re sold out?” He peered around one of her stand-up displays like he was seeing her table for the first time.

She nodded and gave him a look that said she knew better. She
had
seen him. “How astute of you to notice. You too?”

“About to be.” He tipped his head toward the giggling pair of blondes at his table. They clutched the last unsigned copies of his cookbook to their chests, their eyes big and moony.

She slipped her pen into her bag.

“You fixing to head out?”

“Preparing to, yes.”

He needed her to stay. He swiveled around. The waiting women whined. He smiled in their direction. “Would y’all just excuse me for a sec?”

They pouted. He winked, which set them to giggling again. Stomping down an eye roll, he directed his attention back to Meredith. “Can you hang out? Just ‘til I’m done?”

She stared at his lips. Well, now. Maybe his boyish good looks were getting to her after all. No woman was an island.

She pointed at his mouth. “I don’t think that’s your color.”

“Huh?”

The twitchy little almost-smile made a second appearance. She pointed again. “You have lipstick on the corner of your mouth.”

Sometimes overeager fans were a pain in the rump. He rubbed the heel of his palm on the spot she’d pointed to. “So will you stay?”

She cleared her throat. Or stifled a laugh, he couldn’t tell. “I can stay for a minute.”

“Thanks.” He flashed what he hoped she thought was a brilliant smile. Maybe he was out of his league. Dr. Black was no bobble-headed Barbie looking for a good time and a chance to get her picture in the paper because she was on his arm.

He signed the last book and stood to pose for one final picture. Finished, he sat back down and faced her. “I shoulda snagged one of your books earlier. I want one for my sister. Her husband died six months ago and she’s having a real rough time.”

“Ah.” She nodded, crossed her legs and lightly strummed her fingertips on the table. “I see.”

He had to say the right things, make the doctor understand. “She hardly leaves her apartment. She used to love shopping and getting her hair done and going to the spa. You know, girl stuff. Now, nothing makes her smile.” He picked at the seam on the inside leg of his jeans, emotion tightening his throat. “It’s killing me.”

“I understand.” She sighed, her gaze distant. “Look, I’ve got extra books at home. I’d be happy to mail her a signed one.”

He shook his head. That wasn’t enough. This wasn’t working. He should have gotten her to eat another chocolate. “Couldn’t you maybe give it to her in person? Talk to her for a few minutes?” Or every day until Shelby was better.

Her mouth tightened into a thin line. She dipped her head the way Gram used to when he’d gotten out of line. “I appreciate your concern for your sister, but I no longer see patients.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He brushed her rejection away with a wave of his hand. “I was hoping by meeting you, she’d see that life goes on even after...” He paused, unsure if he should finish the sentence.

“Even after burying two husbands?” Her response was so quick it sounded rehearsed. She uncrossed her legs and tugged down her skirt before looking at him.

Cursing himself for stuffing his boot in his mouth, he gave her a half-smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Life does go on. I promise.” She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. After seeing what Shelby was going through, he understood.

She grabbed her purse and hooked the strap over her shoulder. “Give me an address and I’ll send her an autographed copy, but seeing me isn’t going to lessen the amount of grieving she needs to do. That’s a very personal thing.”

He slid to the edge of his seat, his hands itching to grab her and make her listen. She couldn’t leave. Not yet. “I’m not asking you to see her as a patient, just meet her. Give her a few encouraging words. That’s all.” This had gone so much easier in his head. “Please.”

He dug into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a business card. “We’re having a private shindig at my restaurant Sedona tomorrow night to celebrate the cookbook coming out. Shelby promised she’d come.” He snagged a pen off the table and signed his name on the back before offering it to her. “Just say a few words to her and then enjoy the party. That’s all I’m asking.”

She took the card and turned it slowly in her fingers as if doing some serious thinking. “That’s all?”

Bingo. He nodded. Maybe the chocolate was working after all.

She sliced the air with the card, twin diamonds winking from the band on her right hand. “I’ll come on two conditions.”

He slapped his thigh. Gram would be so proud. Good ole Texas charm never failed. Well, that and the power of the book’s recipes. “Anything. Just name it.”

“I’d like to bring two friends with me.”

“Sure thing. And?”

She fixed him with a look that said she meant to get what she wanted. Little did she know how eager he was to please. “Make another batch of those chocolates.”

“You got it.” He’d planned to anyway, just to make sure she kept seeing Shelby.

“Saturday night then.” Meredith gave him a nod and stood to leave. He stood too, watching her on her way out. She stopped only long enough to have a word with the owner. Kelly heaved out a sigh of relief and fell back into his chair. Mission accomplished. The urge to whoop was overwhelming.

So what if the good doctor looked like fun was a foreign word - she’d buried two husbands. That had to change a person. Shame, though. A woman with legs like that should get out two-stepping once in awhile.

He leaned back and propped his booted feet on the table. What kind of men had the doctor married? Had they died with smiles on their faces? There was a certain something about her—like that tied-up hair and all-business outfit was trying to corral a wild woman. He pictured her in cutoffs and cowboy boots, t-shirt tied at the waist, hair down over her shoulders. He grinned at the image. Highly unlikely the good doctor had ever dressed that way in her life.

He shook his head to clear the thought. Whatever Meredith was hiding was her business. He wouldn’t deny the good doctor got his curiosity up, but truth was, besides Gram, Shelby was the only woman who mattered in his life. He’d do whatever it took to make sure Meredith helped her.

* For more information about
The Perfect Dish
, go to
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/33776
or visit Kristen Painter’s website at www.kristenpainter.com*