“Well, I’m glad you’re a doctor,” I say, pausing to keep my voice cool. “Glad it wasn’t some serial killer pretending to be a doctor just to come out to my home in the dark of night.”
Her head flips up at that and her lips are pursed together as she tries to fight a smile. She eventually gives in. Those pretty pink lips crack and she tosses her head back with a beautiful laugh. “A serial killer wouldn’t worry about you getting an infection, and they certainly wouldn’t come to take out your stitches on a Sunday night.”
“A thorough one might. Maybe it’s part of your larger, more elaborate plan to take me down.”
“Well, guess you’ll have to wait and see.” We stare at one another with our eyes locked until the moment fades, and the silence grows heavy. She reaches behind her for the doorknob, and the hinges creak as she pulls it open. “I’ll get out of your hair.” She pauses at the threshold, twisting to look at me over her shoulder. “Goodnight,Grayson, and thank you, again. Thank you for that night, and for listening to me.”
She turns away from me, and before I can register her movements, she’s already on the front porch and my door is clicking softly behind her. I listen to her soft steps pad down my wooden stairs. The crunch of the gravel. The click as she opens her door, and the hum when she starts her engine.
This can’t be it. Fate had us cross paths twice before for a reason, a reason that’s more than a warm cup of coffee. I know she’s been through a lot, and she’s still going through it. I don’t want to add to her stress, but hell if I’m going to let this woman get away from me again. “Fuck it.”
In two strides, I’m across the kitchen, whipping open my door and I rush down my front steps, jogging across the gravel driveway. I reach her car just as she’s about to pull out of my drive, and I raise a hand, gesturing for her to wait.
With my heart pounding in my chest, I circle around the front hood. Holly rolls down her window as confusion pulls her brows together.
I huff out a ragged exhale, reaching down to curl my palms over the open window. “There’s one more thing,”I breathe out. And her soft “okay” is barely audible over my pounding heart.
“I know we don’t know each other, not really. But I think there’s a reason we ran into each other that night, and again a few weeks ago.” There’s a force greater than the both of us at play, and I refuse to ignore it. I tighten my grip on her door frame, causing my knuckles to blanch from the act. “I’ve thought about you every single night since you ran out of Madame Muffin. Hell, I even went back a few weeks later. I sat for hours, Holly, hoping I’d run into you again. You’ve consumed me. Even at the clinic, when I saw that giant rock on your hand and thought you were a taken woman, it didn’t stop my mind. I know you have a lot on your plate, and you’re trying to find your footing, but I also know I’ll kick myself for the next twenty years if I don’t at least shoot my shot.”
She’s silent, and I don’t dare look up at her, but she’s not putting the car in drive and peeling away from my house, so that must mean something.
“I’d like to see you again, Holly, if you’re interested.” The silence ticks on between us, one, two seconds, before I finally gather the courage to look into her eyes. And when I do, the breath is knocked from my lungs.
Mocha eyes are gleaming up at me and that beautiful smile is stretched across her gorgeous mouth.
“I went back to Madame Muffin, too,” she says softly, and my knees damn near buckle. “I went back and sat at that corner table, hoping I’d get another chance. So, yeah, I’d like to see you again.”
I dart my tongue out to wet my dry lips, and her eyes immediately flick to the movement.
Holly pulls her gaze away, looking through the windshield into the glow of her headlights. “But I wasn’t kidding when I said I’m a mess,” she mutters so softly it nearly breaks me. “You sure you want to be a part of that?”
I lean forward, resting my forearms on the edge of her door. She drops her gaze to her lap then looks back up to me, and I hold it, wanting to erase that worry from her face. “Do you remember what I told you that night about messes?”
Holly chuckles and cocks her head to the side to study me. “You said you like them, and I said you’re lying.”
“No, ma’am, scout’s honor. I like a mess because it gives room for change. Messes are made for a reason, usually. Sometimes, it’s because I’m rushing myself, or trying to force something my way when it’s not meant to be. It gives me a chance to change if what I’m doing isn’t working anymore.” She cocks her head in the other direction as if she hadn’t considered that point of view. She let me intonight. She told me about her shitty parents, her shitty ex-fiancé, her anxiety, and the nightmares that taunt her both day and night.
I take a step back, pushing out a ragged breath over the hood of the car that hopefully she can’t see. “I won’t push you into anything, Holly. Ever. We don’t have to go any faster than you’re comfortable with. All I’d like is a chance. Even if you’re just looking for a friend, I can be a friend.” I don’t know if I could settle for just being her fucking friend, but when her posture relaxes, I see it as a win. “Let me carry some of the weight; let me share the burden.”
Her eyes glisten as she smiles, reaching to the side to fumble with her purse. She pulls out a pen and a scrap of paper, scribbling a number and handing it to me pinched between two fingers.
Holly’s name is written in perfect script with a series of numbers that I sure hope is a real phone number and a note to call her. I fold it once and tuck it in the front pocket of my jeans, keeping my fingers curled around the edges so I don’t lose it.
Her gaze falls behind me in the direction of my house. I turn around to follow her stare, seeing the glow from my kitchen light seep through the large bay windows, casting enough light on the front porch swing that one could sitout there for hours, basking in its glow. She looks up at me with her round eyes sparkling in the light of the moon. “Do you think I could come back here sometime? Spend a day with you at the farm?”
I’m sure I look confused, fighting against a nervous laugh. Holly screams city from her shiny Mercedes to her neatly ironed outfit. She’s a stark contrast against my dirty, torn jeans that I’ve had since high school. “You want to spend a day on the farm?”
“The few things I saw tonight at your parents’ house, the goats I nearly hit on the way in because they were standing in the middle of the road…” she trails off, and I groan. Of course they were blocking traffic.
“I’ve never been on a real farm. My friends and I went to a petting zoo once and paid a dollar for an ice cream cone filled with corn. We fed a few animals and pet them, but that was it. I grew up in Chicago. Med school in Des Moines. I’ve only known big cities, so all of this is foreign to me. It might be pushing my luck, but could I just come over and spend a day with you? Be around the animals? Find out what it’s like to be a cowgirl?”
My cock twitches at the thought of her on my farm, riding my horse with my hat nestled atop her perfect silk hair.
“Are you sure? I’d take you anywhere. We can do anything. I’ll drive to the city. I’ll…”
“I’m sure,” she interrupts.
Fuck. If I didn’t know any better, this woman is trying to make me fall in love with her.
