Читать книгу Melting the M.D. - Tanya Michaels, Tanya Michaels - Страница 5

“You two know each other?” Lucy asked.

“Y-yes.” Meg bit her lip to keep from saying more. This weekend was critical to her future, and she needed to regain control of herself before she blurted something grossly unprofessional. “Or, we did. A few years ago.”

Scott leaned against the doorjamb, his hazel eyes unreadable. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

He certainly had. His burnished gold hair, just a couple of shades darker than hers, was cut a lot closer than it had been while they’d dated. And before, he’d always had a glint in his eye, a smile nearly boyish in its charm. Now he exuded raw masculinity.

“Meg has agreed to help with your tux.” Lucy scooped up her purse. “She’ll drive you to the fitting.”

For a fraction of a second, Scott’s eyes widened, but his voice remained even. “I don’t want to impose. I can take a cab.”

The women joined the men in the hallway as Grant reminded his cousin, “You’re not in the city. Taxis aren’t exactly lined up outside the B and B.”

Meg found her voice. “The rental place is on my way—I have to run into town to see the florist.” The reminder of her duties as wedding coordinator steadied her. She sounded competent again when she told Lucy, “You and Grant enjoy the spa. And I’ll come up with something to occupy your mother later to keep her away from you. As for your orange maid of honor, text her a reminder to exfoliate and I’ll see if Mrs. Hoffman can whip up some kind of lemon-juice solution.”

The bride-to-be exhaled. “I can’t imagine my wedding day without you, Meg.”

“Funny.” Scott lowered his voice as the happy couple descended the stairs toward the coatrack. “There was a time when I would’ve said the same thing.”

Scott sat rigidly in the passenger seat, reminding himself that he was a doctor. He had mastered clinical detachment. No way in hell would he give in to the maelstrom of emotions churning inside him.

Meg cleared her throat. “About what you said on the staircase—”

“Forget it. That was just the surprise talking.”

When Grant had said they were meeting Lucy “and Meg,” Scott hadn’t thought anything of it. Meg was a common enough name…and could there be a less likely wedding coordinator than Meg Nichols? The way he remembered it, the mere mention of marriage had sent her fleeing to the nearest exit. Or maybe it was just the idea of marriage to him.

They’d met at an upscale bakery around the corner from the hospital. Meg had worked there as a pastry chef. When she’d dumped Scott—in a letter, for crying out loud—she’d almost cured his lifelong sweet tooth. To this day, he couldn’t breathe in the scent of chocolate without missing her. Which annoyed the hell out of him.

“So, uh, when did you get into town?” Meg asked, filling the strained silence.

“Drove my parents in last night. I let them borrow my car today to tour a historical museum on the other side of the county.” Otherwise, he’d have his own mode of transportation right now and wouldn’t be dependent on the only woman who’d ever broken his heart.

You’re over it, he reminded himself. Clinical detachment. That’s the ticket. He was determined not to let himself pine for someone who’d walked away without a backward glance.