Читать книгу Claiming Colleen - Beth Kery - Страница 10

Colleen watched her son hobbling down the hospital hallway on crutches, chattering the whole time with the young man who was his physical therapist. After the surgery, he’d been fatigued. This morning Brendan was energetic, curious about the goings-on in the hospital, and asking Colleen, his grandmother, the nurses and Eric every question a healthy twelve-year-old boy could concoct in his active brain.

Brigit had brought Colleen’s daughter, Jenny, to visit her brother before school. It’d been the best kind of maternal medicine in the world to hear her two children conversing animatedly or asking the nurse funny questions about the use of this or that piece of medical equipment or mutually grossing out when they received an honest answer. Colleen was so relieved to see Brendan’s returned vibrancy it was like a physical weight had lifted off her.

Her relief didn’t seem to be preventing her from experiencing a nervous, fluttery feeling that had been mounting every hour as their lunchtime meeting approached.

Ridiculous.

“I’ve made a to-do list,” Eric said from behind her. Colleen started, his presence taking her by surprise and jangling her already rattled nerves. “Since I haven’t got the slightest idea how to plan for an engagement party, let alone a wedding, I never really got past the title on the page.”

Colleen regarded the man who was responsible for the butterflies in her belly. He’d left his lab coat in the office and was wearing a pair of dark blue trousers and a crisp blue-and-white-striped button-down. The pants fit his long legs and trim hips perfectly. She ran her gaze over the considerable length of him and hid her appreciation at what she saw. He was too handsome. She cocked an eyebrow. “You’re going to be a real helper in all this, aren’t you?”

His flashed a grin that struck her as extremely sexy.

“I promise not to be a hindrance, if that’s any conciliation.”

She gave a doubtful snort, and they started down the hallway. Two nurses twittered a greeting at Eric as they passed a nurses’ station. Colleen rolled her eyes when she noticed the women’s warm smiles and continued stares as they trailed Eric’s progress down the hall.

“Part of your fan club?” she murmured through a small smile.

His dark brows furrowed before he glanced over his shoulder. “I work with them,” he said, as if the four words automatically explained those covetous female glances.

“Uh-huh,” Colleen smirked. “So, where are we going for lunch?”

“The Captain and Crew?”

She shook her head. “Emilio’s?”

“Sultan’s?”

She gave him a surprised glance followed by a small nod of respect. “You got it.”

“I wouldn’t have pegged you a lover of Middle Eastern cuisine,” Colleen mused several minutes later as she tore apart a honey-drenched, nutty roll and popped some of the delicious confection into her mouth. The cozy, sunlit restaurant and bakery was doing a decent business, but they’d managed to snag the last empty booth.

“Sultan’s is my favorite restaurant in town.”

“Really? It’s my favorite, too,” she added before she could censor herself.

“I keep telling you that you really don’t know anything about me,” he said as he stirred his aromatic coffee. His tone sounded deceptively casual. She paused in the action of sucking the honey off her forefinger and glanced into his face. He regarded her silently, one of his arms sprawled across the back of the booth, his eyes gleaming in an otherwise impassive face…his gaze narrowed on the finger in her mouth.

Flustered, Colleen reverted to using her napkin.

“Every time you’ve ordered food for the staff at The Family Center, you’ve ordered from Bistro Campagne,” she said, referring to what was arguably the nicest restaurant in Harbor County.

“And so you came to the conclusion that I’m a snob, is that it?” he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

“I never said that,” Colleen replied defensively, even though she had difficulty meeting his stare. She’d never spoken her thoughts out loud, but she actually had been annoyed when Eric had ordered expensive catered luncheons during special occasions and holidays. It always seemed to smack of patronization—the great Dr. Reyes lavishing the little people with a treat to liven up their small lives.

He made a scoffing noise. She scowled at him. She really did dislike him at times. So why was it they seemed to have the ability to read each other’s minds so effortlessly?

“I arranged the luncheons through Bistro Campagne because my housekeeper also happens to do catering events there, so it’s easy. I give her dates and some vague details, and she turns my request into something that makes me look like I know what I’m doing.” He gave her a pointed glance. “With most