Читать книгу Hitched For The Holidays: Hitched For The Holidays / A Groom In Her Stocking - Barbara Dunlop - Страница 12

ERIC GOT IN LINE to claim his vehicle, a process slowed by a platinum blonde with a face as rigid as porcelain from too much plastic surgery. The woman insisted on giving detailed instructions to a red-jacketed kid on how to deliver her Mercedes. A rotund man beside her looked bored and gave a long-suffering sigh.

Eric would prefer to get the SUV himself, but even if he had the key, it was probably blocked by other cars in the tightly packed lot east of the restaurant. Unfortunately, people were leaving in droves, and four or five drivers were ahead of him. If the pair of attendants didn’t hustle, he’d have to say goodbye to Wayne all over again.

He could see why Mindy needed someone to palm off as a boyfriend. Her father had changed from a nice, normal guy to a fascist meddler when the subject of her relationships came up. No wonder she’d escaped to Arizona for college and stayed there. She certainly seemed like a woman who could run her own life.

A lead-footed valet delivered a sky-blue Cadillac, and Eric moved a couple of steps closer to the podium where they kept the keys. He rolled his claim slip and a five-dollar bill for the tip between his palms and remembered his tie.

He could go back for it and lose his turn, but he’d probably never wear it again anyway. He was way over Cassandra and knew he never should have gotten involved with her in the first place. They had met when she hit a dog that ran out into the road. He’d been driving behind her and stopped to help. He had saved the dog, got engaged to the horse fanatic and spent a frustrating six months trying to convince her he didn’t want to give up his practice and be her live-in horse-doctor.

He’d die a grizzled old bachelor before he let another woman try to make him over.

“Eric, glad I caught you!”

He turned to see Mindy hurrying toward him, the tie she’d insisted on retying for him dangling from her fingertips.

“Thanks,” he said with feigned enthusiasm as he accepted it.

“I wanted to thank you. Dad likes you.”

“Good. Where is he?”

“He went out on the back patio for a better look at the view while I get the van. I can never thank you enough. He grudgingly admitted you might be okay even if you are an animal doctor. Coming from him, that’s better than an Emmy, an Oscar and the Nobel Peace Prize wrapped into one. Well, I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate what you did.”

“My pleasure.”

“Oh, and sorry about your tie.”

“I probably won’t wear it again,” he admitted. “A little too cute for me.”

“No, I mean I’m sorry about straightening it. When I’m nervous…”

“I know. You fuss.”

“Well, I’ll see you again when Peaches needs to see a vet,” she said.

He smiled weakly, determined not to encourage her but hard-pressed not to respond eagerly. She was a patient’s owner, and he didn’t mix business with pleasure, not since that starry night when Cass had overwhelmed him with gratitude for saving her from a guilty conscience. The dog she hit turned out to be a cherished pet, and she hated to be in the wrong even when she was.

“It was a great dinner.” He had to say something since they were trapped together by slow valet service.

“Yes, enough food for a week. Are you sure you don’t want any leftovers? Dad has them.”

“No, no thanks.” He tried, but couldn’t think of any neutral conversation topic.

The big surprise of the evening was hearing about her abysmal record with men. Unless her father was a full-blown liar, she specialized in loonies and losers.

She was attracted to men she could make over, he realized, wishing she wasn’t so darn cute. Besides being dark-haired and adorable, she had perfect palm-size breasts, a slender waist that made him ache to take her in his arms and a butt that would nicely fit his lap.

“When you see him coming, tell me,” he said impulsively. “We should maybe, you know, kiss good-night.”

“He’s coming toward us now, but I don’t know if we should. All these people…”

She didn’t exactly say no, so he went for it anyway. He wrapped one arm around her shoulder and dropped his free hand low on her back, his fingers brushing the delectable little hollow at the end of her spine.

He’d have to be numb from the neck down to pass up the startled O of her mouth. Daddy wanted a man for his daughter? Let him mull over this on the way back to Pittsburgh.

He gave her a hard, noisy kiss that knocked her off balance on the spiky heels she was wearing and forced her to grab his arms to keep from tottering.

“Thank you,” she whispered breathlessly.

“Anytime.”

That was the most stupid thing he’d said since he proposed to Cass. He backed away feeling scorched and silly. Her father wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the robust kiss. He’d provided entertainment for the bored diners waiting for their vehicles and deserved their amused titters.

“Good night, Wayne. Thanks again for the dinner,” he called over to her father as he hurried to the podium where, thankfully, it was his turn.

Tipping the valet double for letting him go to the lot with him, he got in his car and headed home. His next appointment with Peaches was going to be damned awkward after the chemistry of that kiss.

Eric called the Drummonds as soon as he got back to his office and was pleased to hear their border collie had given birth to five healthy pups without the difficulties of her first litter. He wouldn’t have to go out tonight.

It was too early for bed, and he was too restless to catch up on reading his professional journals. He checked the TV listings and decided he didn’t feel like watching some animal nut risk his life for the camera. He was always leery of shows that inspired kids to make friends with the neighborhood rattler.

He could pay the household bills or run a load of laundry, but it would take more than domestic drudgery to get his mind off Mindy. Funny, during her visits to the office with Peaches he’d never noticed the little dimple in her right cheek that showed when she smiled.

He wandered into his bedroom in his second-floor quarters. His mother had decorated the room where he slept as a housewarming gift when he opened the clinic. With a whole furniture store to choose from, she’d picked a bamboo and rattan dresser, night table, and headboard. The curtains looked like mosquito netting and the throw rugs were tawny shag, which reminded his Mom of a lion’s mane. He could live with the jungle decor, but the four sets of leopard and zebra print sheets had long ago lost their miniscule appeal. Cassandra had thought they were hilarious. One of these days he had to buy some restfully plain white ones.

Why did women assume he wanted to drape himself and his surroundings in animal images just because he was a vet? He tossed the doggie tie on the dresser and stripped down to his white cotton briefs. Someday he was going to yank off the border strip with silhouettes of African animals that ran around the tops of the walls. It belonged in a kid’s room, but he wouldn’t hurt his mother’s feelings by telling her that. Both of his parents doted on their only son, much to his discomfort sometimes. It never occurred to them he might want to be on his own, and he cared about them too much to enlighten them.

He flopped down on zebra-print sheets and pillows and flicked on a cable news station. Stocks down, temperatures up, politicians squabbling, nothing there to take his mind off Mindy. He surfed channels and wondered how he could possibly be attracted to another control freak. The woman had retied his tie. If that wasn’t an ominous sign, he didn’t know what was. Even Cass hadn’t tried to redress him, and she had their whole future planned like a paint-by-number picture in a kid’s coloring book.

A basketball game caught his attention, but the Suns were leading by thirty-two points. No excitement there.

The phone rang, and he reached over to the bamboo stand to get it.

“Eric Kincaid,” he said giving his name because patients sometimes called his home phone.

“Dr. Kincaid…Eric…It’s Mindy Ryder. I just wanted to thank you again.”

She sounded a little breathless which gave her voice a sexy quality he found disturbing.

“You don’t need to. I enjoyed…” He hesitated, not sure whether to admit he’d liked being with her. “The dinner.”

Which was, he thought with some consternation, only partly the truth. During the meal he’d caught himself hanging on everything Mindy said as though they were having a real date. He’d even gone out of his way to be congenial to Wayne, although he found her father good company except on the topic of his daughter’s love life.

“Dad’s gone to bed,” she said, “but he won’t take no for an answer about having you come sight-seeing with us. Can you help me out and give me a plausible reason why you can’t go? What do vets do on weekends?”

Good question. He had some tedious paperwork he’d been putting off, and he’d promised to go to a party Saturday evening.

“Tell him,” he began, then couldn’t think of a single reason why he wouldn’t be eager to spend the day with Mindy if she were his girlfriend.

“Tell him I’m not available tomorrow, but I’ll go along Sunday morning if he wants to wait until then.”

“Oh, I’m not trying to rope you into actually going.”

“You’re not roping me. I’m volunteering.”

Why, he didn’t know. Wayne would probably want to know everything about him from how often he brushed his teeth to whether he’d slept with his daughter.

“No wonder Peaches adores you,” Mindy said. “You are so nice.”

“No, I’m not,” he denied truthfully.

Crazy maybe, for having anything at all to do with a woman who liked to reform her men, but he had an ulterior motive. His mom was giving a little dinner party Sunday evening, and he very much wanted a reason not to go. She’d joined the Mesa Civic League to get acquainted in the new city and, typically, thrown herself into their activities. They held a big fund-raiser every December to raise donations for the Maricopa County Animal Friends. It was a good cause. The money was used to get homeless pets ready for adoption. That meant spaying, neutering, grooming, shots, licenses, all the costly essentials. Last year he’d gotten away with making a cash contribution. This year Mom wanted him on the committee, and the dinner was a meeting to finalize what needed to be done.

It was no coincidence that the committee was mostly women, many of them young, single and eager to meet Felicia and Ray Kincaid’s bachelor son.

“I don’t see how I can ask you to help entertain my dad,” Mindy said.

“I’ll enjoy the trip. We’ll make a day of it. Have dinner in Sedona before we come home.”

“If you’re sure….”

He wasn’t, but he could still feel her lips warm and soft under his. Pretending to be hot for her wasn’t a stretch. In fact, he wouldn’t mind a little more smooching—only to impress Wayne, of course.

“I’ll drive. How does ten o’clock Sunday morning sound?” he asked.

“Wonderful! If there’s anything I can do for you—I mean, anything professional. Organize your office, do your Christmas shopping…”

“No, that’s not necessary.”

Really not necessary! He’d rather let a pack of baboons loose in the clinic. Already he was afraid he’d made a big mistake by offering to spend the whole day with the Ryders. He couldn’t help being sympathetic to Mindy, but if she tried to smear sunscreen on his face or retie his shoes, he was bailing.

He hung up, decided it was late enough to go to bed, and was settling in when the phone rang again.

“Mom.” No surprise. “I was going to call you in the morning. About the dinner meeting Sunday….”

He made his excuse. Her voice became very quiet and reasonable, not a good sign.

“I know it’s a great cause, Mom, but I promised to spend the day with a friend…. No, not Guy…. Actually, it’s one of my patient’s owners…. I’m not breaking my rule about socializing. Just doing a small favor…. Okay, yes, a female friend.”

An hour or so later he pulled on a pair of gray sweats, a threadbare Iowa State University T-shirt, socks and his battered old running shoes. Maybe some cool desert air would clear his head and help him get to sleep.

SUNDAY MORNING Dad volunteered to take the dog for a walk, so Mindy used the opportunity to call her big brother. First Carly, her sister-in-law, let her talk with five-year-old Kim and Sam, who was almost three, although her nephew’s idea of a phone conversation was a spurt of excited babble.

“Hi, Min,” Dwight said, relieving his son of the phone. “How are you and Dad doing?”

“He’s fine. We went out for dinner Friday with my pretend boyfriend.”

“Pretend?” There was a knowing chuckle on his voice. Dwight knew all about Mindy’s dating woes when it came to their father.

“Peaches’s vet. He went as a favor to me, but I’m not sure it was a good idea. I’d like to see him for real, but fat chance of that after I roped him into one of Dad’s infamous interrogations.”

“That bad?”

“No, I guess not. He likes Eric, but I don’t feel good about the phony date. Dad insisted the three of us go sight-seeing together today.”

“Your vet sounds like a good guy to go along with it. He must be interested in you.”

“I doubt it, but even if he is, a full day with Dad will discourage him. Remember when we rented that lake cabin for a week and Josh Arhus came to stay? Dad was so suspicious of his intentions, he scared him away after two days.”

“Well, hang in there,” he said, unhelpful.

Mindy hung up and hurried to get ready for the trip when her plan for the day fizzled like a dud fire-cracker. Peaches gave her the bad news, or at least thought she did as she barked furiously outside the closed bedroom door.

“You little rascal, what’s all the racket?”

She stepped out of her room and saw her father sitting on the couch, bending over and gingerly taking off his sock.

“Dad, what happened?”

“I took that mutt for a walk and tripped on a paving stone on your front walk. Would’ve been okay, but when I tried to get my balance, the dumb dog yanked on the leash and I went down. Lucky I didn’t land on my face.”

“Are you hurt?”

“I think I twisted my ankle.” He touched his right ankle, which was puffy-looking below the hem of khaki cotton slacks.

Mindy glanced at the dressy black wing tip shoe he’d just removed. It looked brand-new and probably still had slippery soles, but she bit back a comment about unsuitable footwear. Dad had worn the same style shoe as long as she’d known him. Pain and suffering weren’t going to change him.

“It doesn’t look good. I’d better drive you to the emergency room.”

“I’m not sitting around all day to have some wet-behind-the-ears intern tell me to take two aspirin. I’ll have your Eric see what he thinks.”

“He’s not my Eric, and he’s a vet, Dad, a vet. He doesn’t treat people.”

“I don’t want treatment. He can just take a look at it. How much trouble is that?”

“Your ankle could be sprained or even fractured. You need an X ray.”

When did her father regress to acting like a stubborn child?

“Just bring me a heating pad and a couple of pain pills. I’ll be ready to go to the ruins in an hour or so.”

“Dad, we were thinking of Walnut Canyon, hundreds of steps down and up again. You have to stay off your ankle until a doctor checks it.”

“Fine. Eric must have learned enough basics in vet school to diagnose a sprain.”

Arguing with him was useless. She didn’t have a heating pad, so he insisted she soak a cloth in hot water and lay it on his rapidly swelling ankle, never mind that she thought an ice pack was the way to go.

She’d been excited, even a little tingly, anticipating a whole day with Eric. Sure, he was only doing her a favor, and her father would be going along as well, but he must like her a little to go to the trouble of pretending to be her boyfriend.

When he got there ten minutes late, dressed in jeans and a faded blue denim shirt for their trip, she didn’t know what to say to him. They couldn’t go through with their plans, but her father would expect him to hang around and be sympathetic as any potential son-in-law would.

“What happened?” Eric saw her father stretched out on the couch, his foot on a pillow with a wet washcloth draped over his ankle.

“I twisted my damn ankle,” her father said impatiently. “The dog tripped me.”

“Not exactly,” Mindy said, unwilling to let Peaches get all the blame.

“Take a look. Tell me what you think,” her father said to Eric.

“You need to ice it, keep it elevated,” Eric said without examining the puffy ankle.

“I told Mindy a vet can handle the little things,” Wayne said with satisfaction.

“Dad, that’s commonsense first aid, not a diagnosis.”

“I’ll drive you to the emergency room,” Eric offered.

“I’m not sitting around there all day. Take a look. I trust your judgment.”

“If I were licensed to treat people, I’d order an X ray to see if it’s fractured. Look, it’s as big as a soccer ball and turning purple.”

Her dad sputtered and protested while she double-bagged some ice cubes and wrapped them in a dish towel.

Fifteen minutes later Eric finally convinced him to hobble out to his SUV. He settled Wayne on the back seat with his foot elevated, a pillow under his ballooning ankle and the makeshift ice bag on top of it.

An hour and fifty minutes later Wayne was wheeled in a chair into the examining area of Community General Hospital after telling Mindy to stay behind in the waiting room. A TV droned on in the cheerless tan-and-brown room, although no one among the day’s minor casualties was paying the slightest attention to it.

“We’ve got to break up,” Mindy said in an urgent whisper to Eric.

“Break up?” He laughed so loudly a health-care worker in a pink smock gave him the evil eye. “We can’t break up.”

“You know what I mean. Dad will expect you to stay by my side in this hour of crisis. I can’t ask you to hang around all day listening to his war stories.”

“Your father was in the military?”

“Accounting war stories. Tax payers versus the IRS. You’ll hate it.”

“I’m always willing to hear out an expert. Maybe I can pick up some good tax tips.”

He was teasing her. She was trying to let him off the hook, and he thought it was a joke.

“Please, Eric, I really appreciate what you’ve done…”

“Pretending you turn me on?” His teeth actually sparkled when he smiled like that.

“Be serious. This has gotten too complicated. Either I have to tell my father the truth, or we break up.”

“Here? Now?”

He looked across the room where a sallow-faced teenager was holding his arm over his chest. Beside him a gaunt woman with flamboyant hennaed hair quickly averted her eyes when Eric looked at her. Apparently she found them more entertaining than the talkie Sunday intellectuals on the tube.

“What do we do?” he asked. “Yell at each other, stage a fight? What’s my motivation in this scene?”

“I’ll just tell Dad it wasn’t working between us.”

“How will you get home from the hospital if I leave?”

“Cab,” she suggested listlessly. “Or I can call my friend, Laurie Davis. She’s not doing anything today.”

“I’ll take you and your dad home.”

“It really would be easier if we split up before Dad’s done here.”

“We’re not going to now. You dad is going home tomorrow. Let him leave happy. You’ll meet someone eventually. That’s the time to tell him it didn’t work out between us.”

“I don’t like taking advantage of you. If Dad weren’t so darn pushy…”

“He is who he is.”

Easy for him to say, she thought glumly.

“He’ll expect you to stay for dinner,” she warned.

“Can you cook?”

“We brought home lots of leftovers from yesterday’s dinner.”

“How about ordering Chinese?”

“Dad won’t eat it. Might have MSG in it.”

“Mexican?”

“Too spicy.”

“Pizza? He does eat pizza, doesn’t he?”

“Thick crust with Canadian bacon and mushrooms. Green peppers give him heartburn.”

“Is he your real father?” he asked with a grin.

“So I’ve been led to believe. Fortunately he’s kind, generous, loyal, honest and all those other Boy Scout virtues except when he’s trying to run my life.”

“I sorta like him myself. Tell me he watches basketball.”

“He’s still mad at the Suns because they’re out of town this weekend.”

“Well, love,” he said, doing the worst English accent she’d ever heard, “I really don’t think there’s anything here we can’t bloody well handle.”