Tenille taps my back to tell me she’s done. Before she came to the clinic, she was an ER nurse up in Lake Placid. We only have nurses in the clinic in the mornings since our afternoons are usually dead and Tenille is able to assist me with anything I need. I nod to her as I squeeze my hands into fists to stop them from shaking. When I feel like a confident doctor again, I grab for gloves just as I hear the paper on the table crinkling. I look back to check on Maggie, and Kip has his whole body covering hers, his nose up under her chin as she pets him slowly.
Her eyes meet mine, and I raise my brows. “Kip.” He doesn’t move, doesn’t even acknowledge me. “I know I told you to sit.”
He whines and cuddles deeper into Maggie as she grins widely at me. “But I need snuggles.”
You cannot be jealous of your dog.
But I am.
I shake my head. “Wow, you’re trouble.”
Did I just say that? That is not professional at all.
“Is he talking to you or me? Probably me,” I hear her tell Kip. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s me.”
Damn it, she’s cute.
I swallow hard and ignore the look Tenille is giving me before nodding down to the station she has set up for me. Needing to distract Tenille, I ask, “Ready for me?”
“Yes, Doctor.”
I smile a thanks, still not looking into her eyes, before I push the silver cart to my patient, who has my dog lying across her like a blanket. I give him a look and let out a sigh. “This is not sanitary.”
She grins. “Nope, but that’s small-town living for ya.”
She isn’t wrong, and while I want to fix that since I want her to be safe, I can’t bring myself to tell my dog to move. Instead, I reach out, brushing her hair from the two-inch gash at her temple. Even with gloves on, I can feel the heat from her skin, and I beg to touch more of her.
“Is this going to hurt?”
I shake my head. “It’ll be a pinch for the numbing, and then you won’t feel a thing.”
“I’m right here, love,” I hear her mom say, but Maggie’s eyes are on me and I’m ensnared in them. They remind me so much of Promise Pond in June and July. So blue, but also green and sparkly. She may have been the one who got knocked in the head, but I feel like I have a concussion.
Once induced by Maggie Welch.
I swallow hard as I hold up the syringe. “Take a deep breath for me and then tell me the name of your favorite book in Promise Pond Books.”
Her eyes widen in delight, but they’re sharp, watching as I move to inject her. “My favorite book is the very first book I wrote—” She winces, and I feel like absolute shit for it. My heart stops, but I continue as I fill the area with numbing solution. “A hockey memoir that is about the Nashville Assassins’ back-to-back championship seasons.”
I quickly remove the needle and look back at her in surprise. “I thought you only wrote romance.”
Her lips tip up. “Do you know my work, Dr. Aldridge?”
My cheeks heat, and I smile sheepishly, much to her delight. She grins, her eyes bright and excited as she waits for me to answer. Since I refuse to show my cards, I reach for the thread and needle. “Tell me more about this memoir.”
Maggie only needs four stitches, but I take my time and make sure each stitch is placed perfectly.
Mostly because I’m a good doctor.
But more so because I don’t ever want her to stop talking.
Even while I’m stitching her head, she is so animated. She’s a natural storyteller, and she makes me feel like I was there when the Assassins won back-to-back Cups. Mind you, I’ve never been to a hockey game, but shit, I have to go now.
With her.
Wow.
Okay.
