Heaven's Kiss. Lois Richer

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СКАЧАТЬ can be good at it. You just need the right method.” She tapped one finger against her bottom lip. “How about singing your lines.”

      He groaned. How much could one man take? “I don’t think singing is going to help,” he mumbled.

      “It might help you loosen up if you focus on something else. Try this.” She repeated the first of his lines in a catchy little melody.

      Luc repeated the notes and words as best he could.

      “Again.”

      She repeated that word nine times, but by the time he made it that far, she had both ears covered and was curled up in a tight little ball.

      “Stop, Doc. Please, have pity on me and stop.”

      He stopped, immediately forgetting what he was supposed to say next.

      Dani unwound herself, pulled her fingers from her ears and stood. Her eyes were huge.

      “Look, Doc, no offense, but I think the singing is out. You are tone deaf.” She blinked at him. “Come on, I’m hungry. Maybe eating will help.”

      She didn’t sound hopeful. Luc didn’t feel hopeful. He felt defeated and at the end of his rope as he followed her into the house.

      “Why don’t you just let Big Ed do it?” he mumbled, watching her bend over to peer into the fridge. The jeans she wore had a jagged tear just above her knee. All her clothes seemed to be in tatters. He wondered why.

      She twisted to glare at him. “We can’t have a cowboy English detective. It won’t work.” The fridge door slammed closed. Now she stood on tiptoe, stabbed one finger at something in the freezer. “Are you hungry?”

      He shrugged, then nodded. Breakfast seemed a distant memory. Lunch—had he eaten lunch?

      “What if we put some steaks on to grill while we try to think of another method. I studied acting in college. One course, anyway. I should be able to come up with something.” She didn’t wait for his agreement, but thrust a package into the microwave and set the timer. “Can you make a salad, Doc?”

      “Are you kidding? I’m a genius at salad making. Piece of cake.”

      He accepted the ingredients she handed him and set to work slicing and dicing, hesitating only when he remembered the comment about her cooking. Just how bad was she? Surely no one could mess up steaks….

      “I’ll get some potatoes.” Dani was gone for three minutes and returned with two fat potatoes. She lifted the meat out of the microwave, put the potatoes in, then glanced at him. “What if we recorded the words on a tape and you listened to them while you were sleeping at night?”

      Luc shook his head, turned back to his work.

      “It’s a nice thought, Dani, but I’d be hesitant about wearing a headset at night. I’m usually on call. Besides, I freeze up in front of groups. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can find someone else.” He spread tomatoes over the salad.

      She butted his arm, forcing him to face her.

      “If you think your sister is stubborn, Doc, you’re in for a surprise. I do not give up. Not ever. Not with this ranch, and not on that play. There is a way around everything. We just have to find it.” She nudged a piece of tomato to the edge of the bowl with one fingertip. “Tomatoes on the side, not in, please,” she ordered.

      “I like them in.” He pushed the tomato back. “And since I’m the salad maker, I get to say.”

      “Do not.”

      “Do so.”

      She smacked her hands on her hips. “For a doctor, you are very immature,” she informed him, her green eyes dancing with fun. Then she snatched the steaks from the counter and stalked outside.

      “Am not,” he called after her, then grinned at his foolishness. Being with Dani DeWitt made him feel young, expectant, as if life might just have a surprise or two left to show him.

      Which was crazy. Dani was a kid, barely out of college. He’d buried his grandparents, pushed his siblings through school, put his own life on hold until theirs were settled, and then finished his own training. In terms of life experience, he was Methuselah and Dani DeWitt was in kindergarten.

      But knowing that didn’t stop him from glancing over one shoulder before he picked up a wedge of tomato and, with a little snicker of delight, buried it under half a dozen lettuce leaves.

      It had been a long time since he’d relaxed long enough to tease and joke. Maybe Dani was young, but she was also fun—and she was grilling the juiciest steaks he’d ever seen.

      Luc could use a friend like Dani.

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