Summer on Lovers' Island (5 page)

“Yeah, more like eeew,” Susan answered. “That's definitely TMI.”

Lizzie laughed. Maybe today's appointments weren't a total loss. She rather liked Josh's niece. The tone was just a touch snooty, Susan's eyebrow raised in a sarcastic arch. The girl had just the right amount of attitude and spunk.

They went through the usual stuff—height and weight marked on a percentile scale, blood pressure and heart and lungs … a formality, as Susan appeared to be a perfectly healthy little girl. Lizzie chatted to her about school and what activities she liked, including piano lessons and soccer and an upcoming sleepover where the girls were going to make their own pizzas and ice-cream sundaes with a zillion toppings.

She was a chatterbox, but a delightful one.

“Well, I think you're all set here, unless you have any questions for me,” Lizzie said, closing the chart.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Susan asked, unfazed by the dire look her mother sent her way.

Lizzie felt a blush heat her cheeks.

“Don't answer that,” Sarah said, turning to Susan. “Suze, that was rude.”

“You're always saying you want Uncle Josh to date. You can't throw Summer Arnold at him forever.”

Now it was Sarah's turn to blush and Lizzie gave an uncomfortable laugh.

“Where on earth did you get that?” Sarah demanded.

“Grandma said it last week after church.”

There was a moment of awkward silence. “Sorry,” Sarah apologized. “Sometimes I think she's ten going on twenty-five.”

Lizzie flapped a hand. She'd seen a lot of things in emergency departments, had been propositioned and proposed to once by a man dressed in drag with alcohol poisoning who was brought in by his friends during a bachelor party gone wrong. One ten-year-old being slightly inappropriate was really no biggie.

Except that it did make her blush, because she actually had noticed Josh that morning and found him quite attractive.

“Your uncle and I work together, that's all,” she said with a polite smile. “And you, Susan, are perfectly healthy. It was good to meet you.”

Susan hopped down from the examination table. “You won't tell Uncle Josh what I said, will you? About Summer?” She looked a little worried. The bravado of earlier had been curbed by her mother's sharp admonitions.

Lizzie smiled reassuringly. “Of course not.” Like she'd repeat the notion to Josh, or talk about her personal life at all. That was strictly off-limits. She winked at Susan. “Doctor-patient confidentiality. It's our secret.”

Susan smiled … and so did her mom.

As Susan tied her shoes, Sarah picked up the conversation. “So, how are you enjoying Jewell Cove?”

Lizzie thought of her morning run along Fiddler's Beach and had to admit the fresh air and space were growing on her. “It's very beautiful. And everyone has been so friendly.” Too friendly. Even out at Fiddler's Rock, her arrival had prompted a basket of baked goods and a casserole showing up from well-intentioned neighbors. So much for privacy.

“Our Fourth of July celebrations are in a few days. There's always lots happening on the docks, and there are fireworks, too. You won't want to miss it.” Sarah angled her head a little. “In fact, our family always throws a picnic on the Fourth. You should come. Charlie and Dave have accepted an invite, and you are Josh's coworker after all. You could meet some people in town.”

Way to put her on the spot. She certainly didn't want to horn in on a family event, especially since she and Josh had only shared a few sentences today that weren't about work.

“I'll definitely think about it,” she offered, trying to be positive but noncommittal. “Thanks for the invitation.”

Sarah nodded. “Our family is always coming up with excuses for get-togethers. If you can't make it, there's always the next time.”

After Sarah and Susan were gone, Lizzie took a moment to sit on the rolling stool and let out a breath. How did Charlie manage to keep the patient/doctor relationship professional in such a small, intimate town? Lizzie had already noticed how residents waved and greeted each other on the street. The gossip mill was alive and well, too, if the chatter at the caf
é
was anything to go by.

This wasn't her style at all. And yeah, maybe she needed the change of pace to de-stress, but the thought of staying here indefinitely? Not in a million years.

She left the exam room and went to the reception desk to find Robin and instead found a wicker basket covered with a pretty napkin sitting on the middle of the counter. She lifted a corner and saw plump, golden muffins tumbled about the inside. There was a small card attached to the handle and she removed it, sliding the little cardboard note from the envelope.

Welcome to Jewell Cove, Dr. Howard.

It was signed from the Jewell Cove Business Association.
Good heavens, a welcome wagon?

At that moment Josh came from his office and stopped, lifting his nose to the air. “What's that smell? I'm starving.”

“Muffins,” she answered.

He sauntered out, curiously examining the basket and lifting the napkin. “Banana chip. Yum. Welcome present?”

She swallowed. “How'd you know?”

He chuckled as he selected a muffin from the assortment. “That's Jewell Cove for you. Always there with a warm welcome and a helping hand.”

There was something in his voice that made her think he didn't necessarily consider that a perk. “I think it's a lovely gesture,” she answered.

“Hey,” he said, taking a bite of the muffin and chewing thoughtfully. He swallowed and frowned a little. “I obviously love this place. I grew up here. I moved back, right? But I'll be the first to admit it can get a little too small and well-intentioned sometimes. “

Hmm. Curiouser and curiouser.
“But you're the town golden boy, aren't you? I mean Charlie said—”

And then she stopped talking, rather abruptly, because she'd been about to say “after your wife died” and had realized how callous it would have sounded.

“Charlie said what?” One eyebrow lifted as he took another bite of muffin, catching a few crumbs in his hand.

She scrambled to come up with better words. “She just said that when you moved back, everyone was happy about it. That you belong here.”

His gaze sharpened, as if he was trying to puzzle her out. She wasn't quite comfortable with the intensity of it. It made her feel rather transparent. A little bit naked.

“It can be a little claustrophobic at times. Very little privacy.”

She smiled at that. “Really? So you didn't plan for your niece to have her checkup on my first day in the office?”

The answering grin he gave her made her catch her breath. It lit up his whole face, transforming it. He looked younger, despite the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Lighter, less burdened.

“Suze is great, isn't she? A real firecracker.”

“She asked if I had a boyfriend.” She wasn't sure what prompted her to admit that, but Josh's answering laugh made her glad she had.

“And do you?” he asked, and the smile slipped from her face. He put the nearly finished muffin on the countertop. “Bad question to ask?”

“It's no biggie. I was seeing someone a few months back. It didn't exactly end well.” She hoped Josh would leave it at that. How humiliating to admit that she'd been dating her boss. Particularly when she was talking to her new boss.

“Sorry,” he offered kindly. “That sucks.”

Truly, she felt way worse about the bigger situation in Springfield. The relationship had just been a casualty of that, really. No permanent damage. Not like that poor family—

“Elizabeth? You okay?”

He was looking at her with concern now, so she shook off the disturbing thoughts and smiled. “I'm fine. And call me ‘Lizzie.' Please.”

“Lizzie,” he repeated, and their gazes caught once more.

 

C
HAPTER
4

Josh loved the feel of the wind in his hair, the smell of the water, the taste of the salt on his lips. He loved pulling away from the dock in the morning, the vibration of the engine beneath his feet, sometimes in a secretive mist, sometimes to a bright-blue sky that somehow sharpened the lines of the rocks, cliffs, even the whitecaps on the waves. There was freedom in the openness that he craved. No orders to follow beyond his own. He could take the route he wanted, up the coast, out to the small islands, wherever the seals bathed in the sun, or out farther into the bay, searching for whales feeding. Being at the wheel, feeling the rise and fall of the swell beneath his feet, was just about as perfect as he could handle.

As he steered the
Jewell's Constant
toward the slip, he wiped a hand over his face and pushed all his stress away. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the brisk, salt-scented air. Focus on the positive, that's what he needed to do. Live in the present. The afternoon had been a good one. The trip out of the bay had been smooth, and he'd encountered a pod of humpbacks after the first hour. Intrigued, he'd quietly adjusted his position and waited for the awesome moment when over thirty tons of mammal breached and splashed back into the water with incomparable force. He'd finished the trip by piloting around Aquteg Island, getting close enough to the south beach that he could see the seals, hear them grumbling bad-naturedly at each other. He and his cousins, Tom and Bryce, and best friend, Rick, had spent hours upon hours on the rock locals had dubbed Lovers' Island, looking for the treasure rumored to have been buried there in the 1800s. They'd never found a thing, but Josh had good memories.

He enjoyed his life, and his level of contentment was one more thing he felt guilty about now and again. He was happier here than he'd ever been in Hartford. The life he'd planned with Erin was over. When it was all said and done, he'd wanted to be home. To have a small practice, a little boat where he could get away, get lost in the vastness of the ocean. At least there he could breathe.

Once the
Constant
was secure, he hopped out onto the dock and gave a long, satisfying stretch. If he was honest, he wasn't really grieving anymore. He could look back on the night the news had come and put it in perspective.

He remembered the slow footsteps, the hollow sound of them on the verandah, then the knock on the door. Not the doorbell. A fateful, heartless knock. He'd known what he would find on the other side before he ever put his hand on the doorknob. An officer. And a chaplain.

Josh had his whole life blown apart in the space of two minutes. There'd been shock, and anger, and more than a little guilt. But there was peace now. Particularly between himself and his cousin Tom.

Josh's truck was parked in the wharf lot and he got inside, starting the engine with a growl. What he needed was some music, something upbeat to drive home to and shake away the doldrums. He flipped open the glove box and shoved his hand in, looking for a CD when a flash of pain shot through his hand.

“Shit!” He pulled out his hand and scowled. It was already bleeding—a lot. He grabbed a roll of paper towels from the back and tore off a strip, wrapping it around his middle finger. Carefully he checked the glove box and found an open utility knife.

“Goddammit.” He rolled the blade back into the handle and shut the glove box. Blood was already soaked through the towel and he took it off, staring at the deep gash before tearing off a new strip and wrapping it around his finger.

Waiting for stitches in an emergency room on a Friday night was not how Josh wanted to spend his evening, and suturing his own wound didn't hold much appeal, either. He checked his watch. If he was lucky, Dr. Howard would still have the office open and could stitch him up in a flash. Josh put the truck in gear and headed to the office.

The streets were full of tourists, the annual season of clogging the roads and alternately bolstering the economy in full swing. It was part of Jewell's lifeblood. The vibrancy was part of what drew him back here. Life went on.

A silver convertible was the only vehicle outside the doctor's office—Lizzie's ridiculous excuse for transportation that was a little too flashy for his liking. She was wicked good at her job, though. Perhaps she was seeing a last patient for the day, Josh thought. He wrapped another square of towel around the already-soaked clump on his finger and headed to the door. Unlocked. A few stitches and they could get on with their weekend plans. The waiting room was empty, though, and a quick glance down the hall showed both exam room doors open. Josh frowned.

“Hey, Doc, you here?”

There was a shuffling sound in the back, and the clunk of a drawer closing.

“Sorry, I'm closing up,” her voice said, and Josh spun to the left and the reception desk. She took one look at the bloody towel and her lips dropped open.

As soon as he saw her stunned expression, Josh's knees went watery.
Shit.

She recovered quickly. “You've lost some blood there. Let me have a look.”

Josh gazed stupidly at his finger and back at Lizzie. He took a few steadying breaths, feeling ridiculous. It was just a cut finger. Lizzie stepped forward, took his hand firmly in hers, and turned it over, examining the slice, her fingers cool and soft on his. She was close enough that he could smell her light perfume and as she looked down at his hand he looked at her face, marveling at the fine cheekbones and long eyelashes … but more than that, her hair was down. It had been pulled back yesterday, but today she'd left it loose. It was glorious, just as he'd imagined.

“You're going to need stitches,” she said.

“What?” Josh struggled to come back to the present. He'd been thinking about sinking his hands into the thick mass of her hair, tilting her head back, exposing the pale column of her neck.
Wow.
He had to be light-headed, because those thoughts were really inappropriate, considering she was a new doctor in his practice.