He bites his bottom lip and his face scrunches up as his hands find his pockets. “Actually, uh, no wife. I’m about to finalize our divorce and moved back here a month ago.”
Yep, the divorce is the confirmation that I wanted to hear. And suddenly, I might be relieved that I just returned from a week in Cabo with a sun-kissed tan to show off.
“Ah, I see. Well, welcome back. And divorce is no fun. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt,” I admit.
My divorce from Scott was finalized a year ago, and while it wasn’t horrible as far as divorces can go, I wish it hadn’t had to happen. As in, I should not have married my ex to begin with. It’s another reason I’ve kept myself busy the last year…a distraction from the fact that I experienced the death of a marriage.
“Got it. That is how you ended up back here? I thought you were living on the east coast and writing?” Lucas seems equally intrigued.
“Ithasbeen awhile since we’ve seen each other. Switched tracks. You? I thought you were going to be a pilot, did that happen?” I give him a knowing look.
“No, actually. I am also a doctor now—but for humans. Switched tracks.” He grins with a click of his tongue.
Yep, we are both doctors but for two different species.
“Dr. Kade,” I say, and our eyes seem locked on each other.
“Dr. Call,” he tips his head slightly.
There is a moment and we both have a soft smile, but the sound of the whimpering dog brings me back to the task at hand.
“I am going to have the assistant do some X-rays. If it’s just a toy and in the right place to pass through, then I’ll give him something to help ease it out. Give me a minute.”
As I leave, I can’t help but look at the man who is watching my every move. I nearly run into the door, but I make a quick graceful save and leave the room.
I go to check on another patient while the assistant does the X-rays, and I wonder why there’s a flutter in my stomach.
Returning a few minutes later with the scans, I switch on the light box, sit on the chair, and place the scans over the lit panel on the wall.
“So, Lucas, it seems to be a figure with a sword? Or is that a hat? Is it a dog? I mean, like a figure or something,” I inform him as I tilt my head in various angles as I study the film.
“Could be the Paw Patrol toy. Kind of ironic.” He laughs to himself.
The corners of my mouth hitch up.
“Well, good news is it will pass, and bad news is you owe your parents a good bottle of scotch because they love this dog more than their first-born child,” I remind him as I take the X-ray and roll the chair I’m sitting on away.
He lets out a laugh. “Since I am the first born, any way we can keep this between us?” he pleads with a mischievous grin as he scratches the back of his head.
“Geez. You’re back 5 minutes and already asking me to do something unethical,” I tease.
His face tells me he likes my teasing. I don’t look away when the sound of the click of my pen fills the room and I sign off on the prescription. Handing Lucas the paper, our fingers graze slightly, and it sends a prickle through my body to parts I forgot I had.
We pause and get a little lost as we look at each other.
“Thanks. It was good to see you again. I feel like I should give you a hug or something.” He tries to lean in for a hug, but I jerk my hand up to stop him.
“Sorry. I am literally covered in fluids from a labradoodle,” I laugh.
He steps back. “Oh. Well. Maybe I will see you around?”
His eyes twinkle the way I remember. Those brown pools are the gaze of a man who knows he has a fan club of women somewhere, and I may be a secret member.
He picks up the dog to carry him out, and I can’t help noticing his flexed muscles. Lucas was always quite athletic when we were growing up. He would literally run to our house for exercise, then charm my mother by helping her mow the grass. All the while, I would gape at the sight in front of me and thank the fact that his parents volunteered him for helping with the yard. Now, he looks even more defined and muscular. He must work out, no man has the metabolism at his age to justify his body right now.
“Yeah. Maybe see you around,” I smile softly and lead them out.
I am very much hoping that I do, but I’m slightly nervous because I’m out of practice on how to deal with these butterflies that seem to be floating in me. It’s crazy, I’m acting like a throwback version of myself who had an epic crush. And that twinge in my gut reminds me that I am not the exciting one that the opposite sex goes for. When I was a teenager, I was awkward and borderline wild. Then when I hit college and dove into my studies, I settled into a more introverted bookworm life. I have no illusions, the word vixen and me will never appear in the same sentence. No, I’m the respectable vet who wears cute sweaters and jeans. Even if I did want to rebrand myself, I don’t think I would know where to begin.
