Ax narrowed his eyes. “Anything I need to know about here?”
“No.”
We sat in silence for a moment.
“Dr. Buckley dropped by this afternoon,” Ax said.
I frowned. “Everyone okay?”
He nodded. “He swung by on his way to his weekend cabin. Said ol’ Hoyt got himself a twelve point just off our property yesterday.”
Ah, Ax, and his ever clever ways to make his point. Dr. Robby Hoyt was the town’s pharmacist—the town’s pharmacist that I hadn’t seen since leaving the hospital. Which was exactly Ax’s point, and, if I had to guess, the purpose of Buckley’s visit to the house.
“I’m not taking the pills, Ax.”
“I know you aren’t. And so does Buckley and Hoyt. You haven’t filled a single prescription.”
Consider taking your meds, Phoenix, at least for the headaches… Rose’s voice, again.
A moment slid by.
“Tell me about her.” Ax said finally.
“About who?”
“The woman you just thought about.”
My hand squeezed around the water, the icy condensation sliding against my heated skin.
“Your therapist, Feen. Tell me about her.”
“Her name is Rose Floris.”
“And?”
“She’s… different.”
“Smart?” He grinned.
“Controlling.”
“Helpful?”
“Determined.”
“Compliant?”
“Pain in my ass.”
He grinned, sipped his beer, then looked at me. “Hot?”
“Stunning.”
“A smart, attractive, assertive, pain in your ass.” He chuckled. “Yep, definitely not the type of woman you’re used to.” He paused. “Heard you rearranged her desk.”
I looked at him. “Where’d you hear that?”
“The whole neighborhood heard it, including old man Jenkins at the bakeshop.”
