Siobhan's Beat (7 page)

Her eyes sparkled. Her hair, drawn into a high, silky ponytail, danced against her neck and cheeks. Lovely distractions, but her words swept him out of his revelry.

“Your bones are aligned and cushioned. They're immobile. Once the cast comes off and you're forced to bear weight and use your leg normally again, there's going to be pain and limitation at first while the bone continues to mend and you rebuild the strength and muscle tone you had before the accident.” He kept his tone calm and smooth. “I'm not trying to scare you, but I want you to be prepared.”

Her glow didn't diminish. Man, was she gorgeous.

“OK, OK. I get it. Still, I'm going to push, and in the meantime, we're working with the reps at Zion's Peak. We're battling for more time and the logistics we need to set up the videos for the CD and the tour. This is
not
going to beat me.”

“I never doubted that for a second.” Their eyes met and held.

She left his office that day seeming buoyed and radiant.

Two weeks later, just like a much-needed infusion, she swept into his office once again. By that point, AJ had made the decision to wait it out. He'd treat their remaining professional meetings like a gift, and once the cast came off, he fully intended to launch a pursuit. Siobhan Douglas compelled him, and he sensed carefully banked interest on her part as well. Especially when, at the end of her last visit, she cast him a bashful look.

“Can I ask you a question?”

AJ finished jotting notes on the fresh sheet of paper at the top of her file folder. “Absolutely. Fire away.”

“I'm curious. What does AJ stand for? What's your full name?”

The question was timid, softly spoken. Abruptly, his pen strokes came to a standstill. He focused on her chart and wet his lips, breathing deep to steady himself. He looked up and swallowed hard, charmed.

“Anthony James.”

His voice remained smooth, but his nerves most certainly didn't—especially when her features split into a warm smile.

“Anthony James.” The words rolled off her tongue…and straight into his senses. “I like it. A lot.”

That stirring smile melted him into liquid and fire.

Following that mini-breakthrough, AJ allowed himself to stray just slightly into personal territory and they spent a few minutes chatting. He found out she had lived in Westerville all of her life and opened her own dance studio promptly after graduating from the New York Dance Academy. She had just one brother, no sisters, and as the youngest, she admitted to alternatively chasing after Liam, the leader, and taking full advantage of being protected by those she loved.

Most important, she made no mention of being involved in a romantic relationship, and the only ring she wore was a silver piece on the third finger of her right hand.

AJ missed the next point when the ball whizzed past and bounced toward the far corner of the court. Mason let out a groan. “Coop, c'mon! You're not even with me anymore, are you?”

Coop crouched, balancing against his knees, taking a moment to grab some air. Mason did the same then retrieved the ball and let loose a wicked serve. AJ focused in a hurry, determined to put his mind on the game. A spirited volley took place with grunts and more shoe-squeaks.

“So, I had dinner with my mom and dad last night.”

Mason released a hearty guffaw. “How long did it take for the topic of dating to come up?”

“Five minutes. I clocked it.”

“I'll bet you did.”

“Thing is”—AJ just barely returned a laser-pointed shot—”some of what they're saying is starting to make sense. If I'm not careful, I'll become buried by work. Let's face it my job is grueling, and hardly conducive to building a relationship with a remarkable woman. That's starting to bug me.”

For a millisecond of time, Mason froze. AJ took full advantage and smashed the ball so it whizzed straight past his opponent. The fact that Mason surrendered the point with barely a flinch let AJ know he was about to be grilled. Big time. “This is about the ballerina girl, isn't it?”

The rise in heat AJ experienced had nothing to do with the humid confines of their racquetball court. “Ballerina girl? What are you talking about?”

“Way to dodge the question, Coop. So, I get to lay out the specifics. Sweet. That was game point, by the way, congratulations to me.”

AJ strolled toward his duffle. “To celebrate I'll buy you nachos and a soda in the dining room. I'm in the mood for junk food.”

“Way to be healthy.”

“All things in moderation.” Pulling out a towel, AJ mopped his damp hair and rubbed the cool, fresh cotton against the back of his neck, then his face. After stashing towels and stowing gear, they exited the court, tracking toward the dining area of the club.

“Back to ballerina girl—”

“Her name is Siobhan.”

They grabbed their food orders and sat down at a table overlooking the vacant, snow-kissed tennis courts outside.

“Yeah, Siobhan. Anyway, I've been able to track her progress week by week when you talk about her during our matches. You're hooked. And you've ID'd the problem. You're too busy to go searching, so look at it this way, maybe the right one has ended up right in front of you in spite of that fact.”

“Come on. Get serious.” Mason was one of the few who could—and would—push at AJ and get away with it. Conversely, AJ had no problem pushing right back. “Patient. Doctor. Line in the sand. No way, pal. Never.”

“Never say never. Besides, after next week, when the cast comes off, she won't be your patient anymore. You're itchy. Have been for weeks. It's because of her. Face it, and break down the barriers. Give it a go. Call her. Ask her out.”

AJ ingested that in silence, swirling a pair of chips through steaming cheese sauce. “I'll be straight with you. Yeah, she fascinates me. I admit it. I mean, do you know what I keep asking myself? How can a woman who appears to be so delicate be so unbelievably strong, and fierce?”

“It's about her profession, man. The girl is a dancer. I don't need to tell you, dancers are athletes of the first order.”

True. Siobhan was set to attack rehab, and he could already tell she carried the same type of tenacity and determination as any other pro athlete—but oh, was she worlds easier on the eyes, and heart.

Whoa
. AJ froze when that thought pushed through his mind.

“Being a doctor is a whole lot less complicated than being a single guy trying to date. I function better in professional mode than personal mode.” He finally downed the chips, and a swig of blessedly cold soda.

“That's a pile of crock.”

AJ laughed at the ready dismissal and sighed, stretching his legs. His mind wandered—again—to Siobhan.

The other night he had Google searched Sisters in Spirit. He came upon a YouTube video uploaded by Holy Spirit Catholic Church several months ago. In the piece, recorded at a fundraising performance for local parochial schools, AJ witnessed Siobhan Douglas in her prime and in her glory—owning the stage with every graceful arc of her arms, every leap, spin and dip. She was mesmerizing.

“Right now, Coop. Right this second. What are you thinking about?”

AJ growled and clutched his pop can in a death grip.
Convicted.

“Just as I suspected. You can't shake her. Why keep trying? Embrace it, or shut the door. I've known you for a lot of years. We went through med school and residency together. In all that time, I've never heard you talk about anyone the way you talk about her, and you said it yourself. You don't focus on anything but your work.”

“I know, I know. But that's part of the problem. I'm no good at the dating game. My confidence level sinks to zero on the social scene.” He crunched a couple more chips, battling a heavy sense of dejection. “Sometimes I wish God would just reach down and make it all happen—take matters out of my hands and build this relationship, if that's what's meant to be.”

Mason propped his forearms against the table and speared AJ with a warning look. “Careful what you wish for, Coop. Stranger things have happened, and in a way I think He's already stepping in—for both of you.”

 

 

 

 

7

 

“Siobhan? Siobhan, is that you? Hey!”

Picking her way through a stack of avocados, needing a ripe one set to be pitted, scooped and creamed into spread, Siobhan froze when she heard the summons. It came from a familiar, low and smooth voice. Zapped by a thrill, she hobbled into a turn, using a newly purchased cane for stability. “Doctor Cooper? Hi!”

He moved from the produce display opposite her, a bag of red, yellow, and green peppers in hand. When he smiled, Siobhan went a bit weak, wondering. How could anyone not respond to such a beautiful sight? Eyes alight, he looked left and right, sneaky-like, and gestured her closer. “Come here for a second.”

Giggling, and boy did
that
feel wonderful, Siobhan looked to-and-fro as well, sidling up to him with a pair of perfectly ripened avocados ready for purchase. She slid her chosen fruit into a clear plastic bag. When AJ leaned close, she nearly lost her grip. His cologne was subtle—earthy with an undercurrent of spice—luscious.

“I have a secret to tell you.”

His playful whisper, the touch of his breath near her ear, stirred goose bumps and butterfly tickles. “What's that?”

“I've checked, and we're in the clear.”

Off balance and dazzled she eyed him in expectation and question. What on earth?

“There's nothing to worry about, Siobhan. There aren't any members of the doctor police within fifty miles. You can call me AJ, or Coop if you prefer and you won't get into trouble. I promise.”

OK, that disarming piece of repartee stoked her feminine appreciation of this man to a whole new level. Should she respond in kind? Oh, why not?

“What a relief, AJ. I was scared there for a minute.”

When his eyes danced and his smile grew, Siobhan decided she was really glad to have taken the risk. He was awesome…but that was no surprise.

It had been a week since they last saw one another for a final consult before she surrendered exclusively to rehab efforts. And, oh, wouldn't the girls be giving her grief over
this
little episode if word got out?

Heedless of that threat, she continued. “What a coincidence to run into you—although, I guess Westerville is small enough that our paths might cross at some point.”

“Like a gift. You look great without the cast.”

More delightful sparks danced across her arms. She needed the boost of affirmation, because without her cane and a steady dose of maximum strength pain relievers, her left leg would be giving her even greater fits. Whenever she rested her full weight upon it, excruciating bolts of energy shot lines against still-healing nerves and muscles.

“Thank you, but you were right. It's a painful process. Still, I can't wait to start training.”

“Hmm…I see how it is now. You're a closet masochist. How sad.”

“Yep, that's me.” Laughter overtook her in a spontaneous way that freed a few tethers from her heart.

He eyed the basket strung across her right arm. “Are you finished grocery shopping?”

Siobhan nodded.

“Me, too. Would anything of yours perish if we shared a quick cup of coffee? My treat.”

The Cuppa Café wasn't even a block away. What a tempting idea. Siobhan was in the mood for an uptick like this. “I'd love it, Coop.”

“So, it's Coop now?”

He arched a brow in tease, placing a guiding hand against her back as they walked slowly toward checkout. His steadiness rode straight through to her core and helped Siobhan maintain strong footing.

“I'm testing both models. Seeing which one I like the best.”

“Pragmatism. I like it.”

After temporarily stashing their sacks in the trunk of AJ's car, they passed through a double-door entryway that led to the intoxicating aromas, warmth and welcoming atmosphere of Siobhan's favorite haunt in downtown Westerville—the Cuppa Café. Siobhan chose her favorite, cinnamon and orange tea. AJ opted for a mug of strong, black French roast.

“I can tell you're a doctor. You crave caffeine in the afternoon.”

“There are times when it's a necessity—like when I work a double shift at the hospital.”

Following a brief wait for their orders, they made their way to a quiet corner table. AJ pulled out her chair and allowed Siobhan space to comfortably move and settle. The courtly gesture filled her with a powerful glow.

She set her bistro mug on the worn, wooden table. After unwinding her scarf from its loose loop around her neck, she draped the garment over the back of her chair. Warming her hands against the dark blue ceramic, she savored the image of Coop folding smoothly into the chair across from her and delighted once more at the unexpected way her shopping voyage had evolved.

Trying to stem an eager smile, she took a sip of tea. “There's something just perfect about the combination of cinnamon and orange when it's cold and gray outside.”

She loved the way his eyes flickered in response.

“Fill me in and appease my instincts as a doctor. How are you doing with getting around day-to-day? Any problems getting to the dance studio or anything?”

“Nope. I'm not driving yet, but my friends and family have been a big help.”

AJ blew across the surface of his coffee, taking a tentative sip. “Why aren't you driving? You're healed enough to operate a vehicle.”

Siobhan tapped and twitched with a stir straw while his words faded. “Yes, but Aileen has a flexible schedule. She's focused on rehearsals and the recording sessions to come of course, but she's been great about chauffeuring.” The topic prompted Siobhan to check her watch. “Matter of fact, I'll be meeting her at the studio in about an hour so she can take me home.”