Medical Romance July 2016 Books 1-6. Lynne MarshallЧитать онлайн книгу.
didn’t cross his arms again.
She had to stop looking at him.
No matter what she felt, no matter what she believed could be theirs, it didn’t matter if he didn’t see it too.
She really had to stop trying to be with him. Leaving a door open to him was just as bad, she’d be the only one aware of it and waiting for him to come back through if she did.
They’d said one night, but it had been such a wonderful night, when he’d said yes to anything, she’d wanted to believe he felt it too.
He’d probably just felt the need to shut her up so he could sleep.
Six years hadn’t made her any smarter about relationships.
The ceremony was crafted of beautiful words, and all around her Grace saw handkerchiefs out and plenty of eye dabbing.
Did Zack take Freya? Yes. He did.
Did Freya take Zack? Yes.
They kissed.
Loving, honoring, cherishing. Forever. Not just one night. Not just one night that got dragged into two by one pushy person. But the beauty she could identify she didn’t feel. By the time it was over, all she could do was force a smile.
That’s what her situation with Liam lacked: they weren’t both in it. She was the only one there, waiting for him to make up his mind.
The wedding party walked back down the aisle, and Grace stood, clapped with the rest of them.
Eventually they moved from the site of the wedding up the stairs built into the hillside to another plateau, this time at the top. The large cliff-top oceanside overlook had been set up to host the reception. Dinner. Marble checkerboard slabs defining a dance floor. Candles twinkling on every table, and an open wood framework above supported thousands more of the twinkling white lights. More stars in the sky than ever for Zack and Freya.
Perfection.
“Bar,” Liam said, drawing her attention back to him with one word and gesturing hand. He pulled his elbow from her limp grasp and started away, saying as he left, “Find our seats?”
Find our seats? That implied he’d come and find her when he’d dulled his senses with bourbon or something higher proof if he could find that instead.
This evening couldn’t end fast enough.
Grace turned to survey the tables to decide where to start looking. She wasn’t really one of the elite, she just worked with them. She wouldn’t be seated at the kiddie table, but it would no doubt be farther from the action than Liam would’ve been had his name been the one on the list and she’d been his plus one.
Like that would’ve ever happened.
The cheerful sound of people laughing and chattering hurt her head, and the whole situation hurt her heart.
She checked a few of the peripheral tables, found her name, and pulled out the chair.
Time to fake a smile and sit with him through the dinner. Time to pretend for the benefit of everyone else, so she didn’t come off as one of those women who became depressed at weddings. If he hadn’t driven them there, maybe she could just go and give her love and her congratulations to the couple and tell Liam they could go. Another reason why it would’ve been better to have stayed dateless for the occasion.
Was he still taking the pain medication?
Was it her place to ask if he was mixing alcohol and his anti-inflammatories?
No. He wasn’t her patient anymore. And he clearly didn’t want to be more.
This was what came from her making bold moves in Relationshipville. She should have just been happy to have gotten him into bed. She’d had her night. And it had been so good it had made her stupid. Her IQ always seemed to drop a few points where Liam Carter was concerned.
She forced a smile as people joined her, introduced herself, made the expected small talk. Eventually, Liam came over, placed a drink on the table for her and took his seat beside her, much to the delight of everyone at the table except Grace.
Drinking the fruity concoction gave her a cover for not being chatty and personable. Liam was the one everyone wanted to talk to anyway, and it suited her.
She’d muddled through difficult situations before. She’d survived being rejected in her underwear, she could handle this rejection too. But it would’ve been nice if it had come before the wedding. Then she could pretend easier.
By the time the dancing rolled around she was so ready to go but had to wait until the bride and groom were off the dance floor.
“Pardon me,” she murmured to the table at large, scooted her chair back and wound her way through the tables to the clearing and into a copse of trees on the far side.
Just a moment alone. That’s all she needed. Somewhere quieter to breathe.
She wandered through the trees until she got to the edge of the cliff, out of sight, somewhere she could see the water, and leaned over.
Now what?
It wasn’t long until she made out the sound of movement in the trees behind her. And voices. At first quiet, but then loud enough for her to recognize one.
James Rothsberg.
And he was talking to a woman.
Grace leaned around the tree just enough to see who was there, and considered her escape route.
This was what came from her going to the edge, there was nowhere to go besides over the cliff into the water and rocks far below, or past James and...
“Mila, you look good.”
Moonlight filtered through the treetops, a shaft illuminating the woman’s face. Romantic.
Oh, hell.
Grace leaned back again, looking at the ledge between the trees and the cliff face.
Was that wide enough for her to skirt the trees without plummeting to her death in her high heels?
The last thing she wanted was to see her boss having A Moment. Especially tonight. Could she not get away from the magic in the air anywhere?
“Do I? I looked better at our wedding.”
Their wedding? Okay, maybe it wasn’t going to be that kind of a moment.
Grace couldn’t stop herself. She had to look again.
Should she clear her throat? Climb the trees and see if she could get in touch with her inner primate and balance-beam her way across the limbs without breaking her neck?
There was some talk of another woman, which Grace didn’t entirely catch.
But then Mila raised her voice. “I don’t care who you’re dating. Or who you’re not dating. Or who you’re maybe thinking of one day dating. It’s not my business anymore. My business is Bright Hope and my patients, that’s what’s most important to me now. Let’s leave it at that.”
“A truce, then?”
“I haven’t been picking fights with you, James.”
“I’m not picking a fight either, but that’s how things keep going. So...truce. Let’s just try to keep things professional.”
“Yes. That’s what I’ve been trying to get across to you.”
“And once the photo shoot for the South LA Clinic is done, we’ll just keep to our separate corners. No need for further interaction.”
“Sounds good.”
Grace could feel the emotion tingling in the woman’s voice, but considering this wedding business and another woman...well, who could blame her for being roused to a quiet fight with her ex?
James and Mila had once been married, or something...and