The Oldest Virgin In Oakdale. Wendy Warren

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ the act. Last Friday the elderly woman pulled a navy-blue pinstripe suit off the revolving clothes rack and whispered, “See this? Belongs to a lawyer.” Nodding pointedly, she stroked the lapel. “Nice.”

      “What’s the matter with everyone lately?” Eleanor muttered. She was twenty-eight, for pity’s sake, hardly ancient for a single woman in the twenty-first century.

      Patting the pockets of her lab coat to make sure she had dog treats, Eleanor adjusted her eyeglasses and moved down the hallway. Her rubber-soled shoes squeaked on the linoleum.

      Pausing outside examining room two, she smoothed ash-blond hair behind her ears. Okay, so maybe she’d neglected her social life a bit. But she had a career to contend with, and she was a grown-up; grown-ups prioritized. Besides, she was good at her job; no one could deny that. Work was where she felt comfortable. Work gave her a confidence missing from certain other areas of her life. When she aided animals and the people who cared for them, she felt, well, a kind of grace.

      Calling forth a genial smile, Eleanor reached for the doorknob and strode purposefully into the examining room, eager to greet her new clients, human and canine. “Good afternoon, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long. I’m Dr. Lippert, and I… I— I’m…”

      Behind her wire-rimmed glasses, Eleanor’s eyes opened wide. Her mouth went dry, and so, apparently, did her brain. The words she’d been about to speak blew away. She didn’t have “hunk radar,” not like Chloe, but it didn’t take Doppler to realize that standing before her, next to a steel examining table atop which perched a panting boxer pup, was the single most attractive man she had ever seen.

      Black hair, the color of India ink, waved thick and shining around a face that belonged on the cover of a movie star magazine. Brows that were dark as night framed eyes that were as blue as morning glory, and his smile… Eleanor actually felt goose bumps race up her arms. Slow, liquid, his grin flowed like a lazy river, creating a lopsided curve that seemed oddly, deliberately personal.

      Good Lord, Chloe wasn’t kidding: This man…that is, her client was…steak.

      Glancing to the chart in her hands, she gave herself a mental shake. Her brain felt fuzzy suddenly, like a TV screen filled with snow. “I’m—” Pushing at her glasses, she scanned the patient information sheet quickly. “I’m Dr…. Uh, Sadie… I’ll be neutering Eleanor today.”

      Turning, she deposited the paperwork on the countertop. Brushing her perspiring palms on her lab coat, she pulled a pen from her breast pocket, dropped it, bent to pick it up and hit her head on the edge of the counter.

      “Ow!”

      “Are you all right?”

      The rich, masculine voice resonated with concern.

      “Oh, yes! Fine.” Eleanor rubbed the top of her head. “Fine, fine.” She nodded briskly, like a drunken Jack-in-the-box. Smile frozen in place, she moved toward her patient.

      Avoiding the man’s gaze, Eleanor lifted the bowl of her stethoscope and placed it on the boxer’s square chest. For a moment, and it seemed like a long one, all Eleanor could hear was the thundering of her own heart. It wasn’t only the man’s looks that affected her so. It wasn’t even her own awkwardness where members of the opposite sex were concerned. It was…the man’s aura. There was something mysterious, yet familiar, and—

      When she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder, she almost yelped. “Yes?” She looked up, smiling again, though the stretch of her lips felt as genuine as a three-dollar bill.

      “Hear anything important?”

      This time his voice was honey and rum. And frankly amused. Eleanor swallowed. “No. Not yet.”

      His hands came toward her neck. Reflexively Eleanor backed up. Ignoring her surprise, he reached for the ear-pieces of the stethoscope, brought them up—and placed them in her ears, where they belonged.

      One handsome brow arched. “Better?”

      Eleanor blushed bloodred. His grin deepened. Of all the humiliating…! Furious with herself, furious with him, furious with Chloe, she clamped her lips shut and got down to business. With a rigid efficiency that precluded conversation, she listened to Sadie’s heartbeat, checked the dog’s eyes and ears and examined her coat. She refrained from saying another word, refused even to glance in the man’s direction, until the examination was complete.

      Keeping her head down while she made preliminary notations on the dog’s chart, she murmured, “Her health seems good generally. She’s on the thin side, though. What are you feeding her?”

      “Big Macs. Fries. Hold the ketchup.”

      The pen stilled. “You’re kidding.”

      “Why? You think she’d like ketchup?”

      Glancing up at last, Eleanor was rewarded with a wink that made the blue eyes sparkle and dance. This time the curve of his full lips was downright roguish. “You know how I feel about ketchup, Teach.”

      “I beg your—”

      Teach.

      Eleanor felt a surge of déjà vu so strong, it made her dizzy.

      Teach? Only one person in her life had ever called her that. Only one person on the planet…

      Gaping through her glasses, she looked at him, then down at the chart, then back up. It couldn’t be… No, definitely not…

      “Colvin?”

      The hand that was stroking Sadie stilled immediately. He crossed both arms over his chest and scowled. “No one’s called me Colvin in over twelve years… Eleanor Gertrude.”

      Eleanor’s heart thumped like a jackhammer. It was him. Colvin—or rather Cole—Sullivan. Her words rushed out on a breath.

      “When did you get back?”

      “A couple of days ago.” The grin returned with devilish implication. “Miss me?”

      Dumbstruck, Eleanor could only stare. Her heart fluttered. Miss him? It had been twelve years since she’d last set eyes on him. If Cole Sullivan had been in Oakdale at all since their high school graduation, she hadn’t known about it. She hadn’t spoken to him, hadn’t heard from him.

      Not that that was surprising. They hadn’t parted on the most congenial of terms. She should have recognized him by the small crescent-shaped scar on his chin—she’d put it there.

      He caught her looking at it and touched two fingers to the twelve-year-old brand. “Still hurts, you know.”

      Eleanor blurted her first thought. “You deserved it.”

      Cole tilted his head back and laughed—rich, full-bodied laughter that held not a single grudge. “You’re right, Teach. I did.”

      Feelings Eleanor couldn’t begin to identify—and didn’t think she wanted to—swelled inside her. Quickly she reached for Sadie’s chart.

      She cleared her throat. “So. You brought Sadie in to be spayed. I don’t see any record of shots.”

      Cole’s СКАЧАТЬ