Hitched For The Holidays: Hitched For The Holidays / A Groom In Her Stocking. Barbara DunlopЧитать онлайн книгу.
it had hurt for awhile after she broke off their engagement, although technically speaking, he’d never felt dumped. He saw it coming and decided it was the best thing that could happen. Cass had too much money for her own good, and all she really cared about was making a splash with the horsey set at her country club.
He’d been a little slow getting her number, dazzled by dark auburn hair, creamy skin and a curvy body that turned him on every time she sat on a horse.
She also looked down her nose at his humble little practice and had grandiose plans to make him the vet in charge of her stable of Arabians, a job she insisted wouldn’t allow any time for cats and dogs.
Eric stood, stretched and headed upstairs through the private door to change in his second-floor apartment. He was only thirty, but bachelorhood suited him. He didn’t want his professional life complicated by personal relationships. He had worked too hard to get where he was to let himself be remade by Cass, or any other woman—especially a patient’s owner.
He never dated his patients’ owners. Never…
So, he’d really stepped into it today by agreeing to help Mindy. But he didn’t regret his moment of weakness. He honestly sympathized with her, considering his own mother’s quest to hunt down a potential wife for him.
Besides, Mindy was friendly and cute. Her personality sparkled, and it made his day when she brought Peaches to see him. For the first time since his breakup with Cass, he had a genuine case of the hots. Mixing his professional and personal life was still a bad idea, but he couldn’t help imagining how it would feel to get up close and personal with the gorgeous brunette. Of course the downside was now he had to have dinner with her overbearing father.
At the top of the stairs he stripped off the T-shirt he wore under his lab coat and rubbed the moist, matted hair on chest. Even though it was late fall, the cool season, his second-floor apartment felt warm and stuffy. He slid open the balcony door and looked out at a vista not exactly devoid of human habitation, but sparsely populated enough to suggest desert wilderness. True, he could see a cluster of mobile homes to the left, but Chandler was as close as he could get to open country and still have his clinic easily accessible to the metro area.
He was procrastinating. No supper for him until he ran, and he was ravenous. He’d spent too much time with Mindy and perfectly healthy Peaches, so he’d compensated by skipping lunch, not something he did often.
Back inside, he stripped to his briefs and put on his yellow running shorts, a white tank top, heavy crew socks and a new pair of running shoes he was still breaking in.
Darn, he wasn’t in the mood to go jogging. His spacious, high-ceilinged living room was too inviting. His two huge couches upholstered in caramel, sand and ruddy stripes enticed him to lounge in front of the TV and do nothing for a rare change.
Maybe he’d overdone it a little on the Southwest motif in his decor, but he loved this room with the adobe-red tiled floor, stark white plaster, and red, black and yellow Navaho rug hanging on the wall. Since he’d had the clinic built to his specifications, he opted to have one large all-purpose room with only his bedroom and bathroom partitioned. He got wonderful light from a skylight in the roof that could be shaded in the heat of summer.
He made himself leave his lair, knowing much of his reluctance to run this evening was because of his habit of mulling over his day as he worked out. He was pretty sure he’d goofed with Mindy, and it was his own fault. If he’d wanted to date her, he should have been upfront with her. Had Cass shattered his confidence so much he was using professional concerns to keep a desirable woman at arm’s length? He didn’t think so, but he didn’t seem to have enough incentive to jumpstart his social life.
All Mindy wanted was to get off the hook with her father, he thought as he locked the clinic and put the key in his fanny pack. He had no reason to believe she was the least bit interested in him. She was so darn cute, she probably had no trouble meeting men. From what she said, though, it sounded like none met Daddy’s high standards.
He stepped out into the cooling evening and decided to keep to the main road since it would be dark before he got back.
“Admit it,” he mumbled to himself. “You could easily get hot and bothered by her.”
She was petite, not over five-three, with short sable hair. It looked silky soft, like the undercoat of her Corgi, probably not a comparison she would have found flattering. He wasn’t sure about her eye color. At the first appointment, he would have said hazel, but there was no ignoring the flash of green he’d noticed today. She didn’t have as much front and center or on her hindquarters as Cassandra, but then his ex-fiancée wasn’t the type he usually liked. He was a sucker for heart-shaped faces and small waists. Something he’d have to forget on this pretend date with a patient’s owner.
Had he set himself up to play doctor for Mindy because he was a nice guy or because he regretted not acting on the attraction he felt for her?
It was still early in his run, but he pushed himself hard, the slap of his soles on the blacktop setting up a rhythm in his head: dumb idea, dumb idea, dumb idea.
What if this date with Daddy was only a ploy to start something with him? Did he mind losing the initiative if she was interested in him? He didn’t, as a rule, like being chased at all.
On the other hand, he thought, slowing down to his usual steady pace to catch his breath, he was no monk. There hadn’t been anyone since Cassandra….
“Bad idea,” he said aloud. Starting something with a patient’s owner was still an invitation for trouble. Mindy was cute and cuddly, but she seemed to be the kind of woman who wanted to get engaged and married. He certainly wasn’t ready for any serious relationship, not after his big mistake with Cass. Maybe he never would be.
At least he could tell his mother he had a date. She’d been talking a lot about a new salesperson at the store, divorced but no kids. His mom seemed to know an endless parade of eligible females, and she was severely afflicted with grandchild-itis. He wished, not for the first time, that he wasn’t an only child.
“Sorry, Mom, I’m seeing someone. I have a date this Saturday,” he said under his breath.
2
“DON’T LOOK AT ME THAT way! I know it’s a lousy idea, but it’s too late to call it off.”
Mindy finished changing earrings for the third time and stared at the little silver-and-turquoise donkeys dangling from her lobes.
“See, told you these are better. It’s not easy dressing for a date who’s only doing me a favor.”
Peaches responded with a big doggie yawn and stretched her short white legs as far as she could on her special end-of-the-bed quilt made from salvaged remnants of blue jeans, a gift from Mindy’s sister-in-law, Carly.
Her father had opted for a nap in the spare bedroom she’d hastily cleared for his use. Now all the paraphernalia of her business was stacked in her own bedroom. To get to the closet she had to maneuver an obstacle course between catalogs, models of storage units and piles of magazines and books. Thank heavens her clients couldn’t see this mess. Her personal space looked like a recycling center.
She picked her way around boxes of junk sure to come in handy someday to the full-length mirror on her bathroom door. Dad would expect her to look spectacular for the doctor-boyfriend, but what kind of signal would that send to the shanghaied vet? She didn’t want him to think this mock date was a ploy to attract his attention.
Hopefully, she’d hit a happy medium. Her silky scooped-necked turquoise dress flared at midcalf and had tiny cap sleeves. She’d added a delicate silver belt and silvery-gray spike heels. Maybe she was overdressed for a casual evening out, but the donkey earrings said she was only kidding.
“Darn, I need a haircut,” she complained to Peaches, who was trying to nap through the ritual of dressing. “Yeah, pretend to sleep, you lazy hairball. I know those big ears of yours are