Every Glance (Every Life #3) (6 page)

I lean forward and grab the back of my collar, tugging upward until the shirt is flying across the room, all while I try to stifle a yawn. “Better?”

“Much.” She shoves me back to a half-reclined position and runs her fingers over my chest and stomach, leaning down every few minutes to nip at my collarbone or kiss along my stomach.

I wasn’t exactly expecting our date to go this far tonight, but I didn’t necessarily oppose it either. Any other time, I probably would’ve tried to slow her down. I’ve had my share of one-night stands, but part of being a mature, responsible adult also means putting a little maturity and responsibility into your love life
and
sex life. I typically like to go on a few dates first. But I’m a man, and men are weak when it comes to a beautiful woman.

She’s hard to describe. Absolutely gorgeous, but in an adorable sort of way. Nothing about her screams “sexy,” but somehow, she still is. Perfect body, killer smile, eyes that look right through to your soul. Those hazel eyes. I don’t know what it is about them, but there’s a certain familiarity there that makes me feel like I’ve known her forever.

And her body is so perfect against mine. Her silky hair cascades over her shoulders, and its cool softness feels so good against my skin. Her warm hands feel so soothing, so relaxing, so…so…

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

“Yeah?” I answer the call groggily, not even sure where I am.

There’s dead silence on the line.

“Hello? Anyone there?”

Ring. Ring. Ring.

I squint at my phone, realizing I’m trying to answer my five o’clock alarm. Duh. I sit up on the couch and…wait a minute. Why am I…on…the…

Shit. I was here with Kyler, and I have no idea what happened. I was so tired last night that I can’t remember if we had sex or not. I can’t remember her leaving.

Unless she didn’t, and she’s in my bed.

I jump up and pad quietly into my room to find my bed still made. Hmm. Well, maybe I fell asleep afterward, and she just left. That has to be it, right?

Unfortunately, I don’t have time to sort it all out. I have to do rounds at the hospital and get into the clinic by eight. I’m completely booked today with patients every fifteen minutes, followed by a shit ton of paperwork and several hours at the hospital. My own personal mystery can wait.

After ordering some tests and meds and checking in on all of my patients, I stop by William’s room to chat for a second. He’s as happy to see me as he usually is, but I’m just glad to see his scowl and name-calling is back.

“You’re plannin’ on cuttin’ out some of my organs, ain’t ya? You’re awful chipper this mornin’.” William can’t see a thing, but he’s a pretty perceptive old man.

“Nah, the only thing you have left worth taking would be your winning personality. I wouldn’t want to take all you have left.” I pat his shoulder, and he swats it away. “Actually, I had a nice date last night.” I think. “And a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.”

“Well, that explains it,” says William, flinging one arm into the air. “After all these years, somebody finally felt bad enough for you that they took you to bed.”

“Haha, well, old buddy, it’s happened once or twice before. Bad thing is, though, I can’t remember what happened last night. Two hours sleep the night before wasn’t exactly conducive to a completely coherent evening. But what I
do
remember was pretty bad ass.”

William slurps water from the straw of a nearly empty cup. “It probably wasn’t too memorable for her either. Won’t have to worry ‘bout seein’ her again.”

“We’ll see. I guess I’ll know if I don’t hear from her for a few days.” I pluck the apple from William’s food tray. “Thanks for the apple, old man. I’ll let you know if you were right. And by the way, you just might be getting out of here tomorrow, so behave yourself.”

It isn’t until I’m working at the clinic that William’s words really sink in. It’s been on my mind all day. Now that I really think about it, last night probably
wasn’t
very memorable for her. As a matter of fact, sex isn’t something I’ve ever forgetten without way too much alcohol, and I haven’t had more than just a couple of beers at a time in a few years. Which could only mean one thing.

“Dalton, seriously? You fell asleep with a hot girl on top of you?” Dr. Stan Miller chuckles. I finally broke down and told him. “Wouldn’t have ever happened to me when I was your age.”

“Oh, don’t let him lie to you,” says Ella, swatting him with a stack of envelopes. “I can’t tell you how many times he’s done that to me.”

Stan shakes his head profusely. “No, no, no. I’m not saying I’ve never done it. I’m saying it wouldn’t have happened while I was on a
first date
with a woman, especially in my twenties.” He turns back to me, his eyes suddenly wide and his index finger in the air. “Unless…I was bored with her maybe. You didn’t really like her, right? I mean, that tends to be your modus operandi. Find a gorgeous woman, find something wrong with her, find a way to get rid of her.”

“Impossible. She’s a lot of fun.”

Ella stands, crossing the floor to stand in front of me. “Fun? That’s your description of her?” She shrugs and looks back over her shoulder. “I think you’re actually right for once, Stan.”

“What’s that mean, Ella? Because I say that she’s fun, it means I don’t like her? It’s not like I said she’s ‘okay.’ ‘Fun’ is a positive thing.”

“Come on, Dalton, you’re a smart guy. Too smart for your own good, usually. But I hear you talk about a lot of women, and I think I’ve figured out your patterns. After your first date with Sarah, you said she was a lot of fun. Christine? She was ‘a blast to hang out with.’ I also remember you saying that your date with Casey was ‘pleasant.’ Do you see a trend here?”

Damn, she confuses the hell out of me. “I have no clue.”

“You didn’t last more than a few dates with those girls. But remember how smitten you were with Andee? You actually dated her for a few months, and I remember you saying that she was kind and generous and made you feel like a better man. Don’t you get it? You’re looking for a little more than fun. You want something much more than that.”

Andee. Yeah, I really did like her. Being around her made me feel…I don’t know…like I was at home. I was free to be myself without fear of her seeing fault in it. When she looked at me, there was nothing hiding in her eyes. No hint of dissatisfaction. She accepted the person that I am.

But then again, there was something missing there, too, which was why I eventually broke it off. She really cared about me, and I think that’s why I loved being around her, knowing she didn’t see all my faults. It all boiled down to the fact that I couldn’t see myself with her for the long haul. I didn’t love her, and I didn’t know if I ever would. Honestly, life with her was boring. She was too accepting of me, never putting me in my place when I needed it. And she wasn’t playful or adventurous.

I think Ella may be right. I’ve been dating girls that I’ve had fun with, and I’ve dated a girl who accepted me for who I am and who I’m not. I need a girl who has both.

“Maybe. But I don’t know enough about Kyler yet to know anything more than my first impressions of her. I’ve enjoyed our time together—what little there has been—but there could very well be more to her than that.”

Stan stretches his arms high over his head and yawns. “Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

“With the high probability that I fell asleep on her last night, there’s no way in hell I’m calling her. And I’m pretty sure she won’t be calling me. I wouldn’t fault her for it. I’d do the same.”

“Give it a couple of days and see what happens, Dalton.” Ella says, pulling lipstick out of her purse. “She may surprise you. If we’re going to make our reservation, Stan, we’d better go.”

He nods, shucking his lab coat and tossing it over the hook on the wall. “I bet she calls you before the end of the week. And if she does, take it slow and get to know her before you make any decisions. You can’t go on a few dates and have someone figured out.”

“Thanks, Dr. Phil. You, too, El.”

“Of course, handsome. Since Stan and I weren’t able to have kids, it’s a lot of fun sticking our noses in your business. I blame it on parental instincts. Now if we can ever get you married off, so we can get some pseudo-grandchildren, that’ll be divine.”

I snicker. “You have a lot of work ahead of you to make that happen.”

She pats my cheek. “I know you’d never believe me, but you’re worth it.”

“And
son
?” Stan shoves a pile of paperwork into my arms and winks. “Get your ass to the hospital before I ground you.”

WEDNESDAY.
FINALLY
, WEDNESDAY.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my job, but after several twelve to eighteen hour work days, exhaustion doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling. I like Wednesdays anyway because the clinic closes at noon, but add that onto the fact that I don’t have to be at the hospital tonight, and I’m practically giddy.

Since Kyler and I don’t have a date tonight, after all, I have decided to go over to Sawyer and Makenna’s for dinner. It’ll be nice to hang out with the gang since we haven’t had time to get together much over the last few months. Everyone’s work schedules vary so much, it’s hard to find a day or time that works for everyone.

And before you bring it up…no, Kyler still hasn’t called me. And, no, I’m not at all surprised. I’ve told myself, though, that if I don’t hear from her by Friday, I’m going to call and at least apologize for passing out on her. At least my conscience will be clear.

But I refuse to worry about all of that today.

Pulling into the only available parking space in front of my favorite gift shop, I push all of it out of my mind. I’m here to pick up some flowers and a bottle of wine for our little dinner party tonight. The girls always love it when I come bearing gifts for them, and it usually keeps them from nagging on me about my love life.

A little bit, anyway.

This little shop is like a diamond in the rough. You wouldn’t think much of it if you drove by. It’s just a little store attached to a barbeque joint, so the old barn wood front and faded awning doesn’t lend much to its charm. What the casual passerby may not know is that it’s crammed full of every kind of gift you could ever need. There’s some jewelry, trinkets, several varieties of floral arrangements, the most delicious baked goods, and a room in the back with some local and specialty wines. It doesn’t hurt that the little elderly woman that owns it is adorable. And she always brings me a loaf of freshly baked sourdough bread when she comes into the clinic.

I pull hard on the heavy glass door, and the rusted bell above the door makes a half-hearted attempt to chime. “Well, hello there, Mrs. Polly. That yellow dress is stunning on you.”

“Always a charmer, silly boy. But I think it’s just because you smell the peanut butter cookies I just pulled out of the oven. Flattery gets you everywhere with me. Go back into the kitchen and grab a few while they’re still warm.”

“Yes, ma’am. If it’ll make you happy.” I skirt around the counter to kiss her cheek and push through the swinging doors into the kitchen.

Just as she said, the table is covered with cooling racks lined with warm cookies. Some are chocolate chip, some cranberry, and my favorite, the peanut butter. I snag a paper towel from the dispenser, and pile a couple—okay, maybe four—cookies onto it, popping one into my mouth and wrapping the rest up and dropping them into my scrubs pocket.

I walk around the back of the store for a bit, finally deciding on two bottles of wine. A Cabernet Sauvignon for Makenna and the same for the very-pregnant Callie, but in a nonalcoholic variety. Next, I make my way toward the front to the flowers, debating on whether I go safe with a bouquet of different colored roses or the fall theme of sunflowers.

“How much is that ring?” a little boy’s voice asks.

“Honey, I don’t think you have enough money for this jewelry,” Mrs. Polly answers. “Why don’t you go look in that bin over there? There are some nice beaded bracelets under ten dollars.”

He lets out a surprised gasp, which lets my curiosity get the better of me. Peeking around the aisle, I see a boy with a curly mop of brown hair and several wadded bills fisted in his little hand. He kind of looks like…uh, what was that kid’s name…umm,
Simon
.