Page 72 of Cloud Nine Love

Tonight, I made myself a promise not to think about Remi Rhodes under any circumstances. That promise had been broken when choosing my dress. I’d changed five times, and it wasn’t with Dr. Mathis in mind. I’d wanted to look my best on the off chance my path crossed with Remi.

My behavior was not healthy. I knew that, academically. Unfortunately, it seemed my brain was no longer taking its cues from logic and reason. It was Team Hormones all the way.

Carson opened the large wooden door to the bar and held it for me. As I entered, I intentionally walked a few steps ahead of him to create some much-needed space. The second his hand dropped, I felt myself relax.

This was a mistake.

I shouldn’t have agreed to this date. I’d nearly called it off, leaving the decision to chance with a good old-fashioned coin toss. An hour before Carson picked me up, I’d played ten rounds with two separate quarters. Each and every time the coins landed in favor of going on this date. Situations like this were exactly why I never left anything in my life up to chance. I was about to turn around and tell him that when I noticed Kenna behind the bar. Her right brow lifted in a silent question, asking me who I was with.

After taking a deep breath, I decided one drink wouldn’t kill me. Carson had taken the time to get dressed and come pick me up, he deserved at least that.

As we approached the bar, I smiled widely. “Kenna, this is Dr. Carson Mathis. Carson, this is my cousin Kenna.”

Carson grinned, revealing the deep dimple in his right cheek. “Nice to meet you, cousin Kenna.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Dr. Carson Mathis.”

She glanced between the two of us, and I could see she had more questions. Before this became an inquisition, I figured I should retreat. “We’re gonna get a drink and grab a booth.”

Kenna nodded. “What can I get you guys?”

“Vodka soda,” I ordered my usual.

“Can I just get something dark on tap?”

He wasn’t fussy about drinks, which was another box checked. I hated men, or people in general, who were pretentious when it came to ordering drinks. It was a pet peeve of mine. I was the same way when it came to food. Which was why I’d been so impressed when Kyle/Remi had been so easy-going and not bothered about his order being wrong from the Chinese food place.

No, I reprimanded myself. I was not going to think about him. Surely, I could go two hours and not think about Remi Rhodes. If not, I was in big trouble.

Kenna quickly made my drink and pulled his beer. As she slid them over to us, he handed her his card for the tab and said, “Thanks.”

As we walked away, I glanced back over my shoulder and saw Kenna fanning herself with the credit card and giving me a thumbs up. I grinned and wished I felt even half the enthusiasm she had for this date.

Carson stopped at a booth in the corner. It was tucked away and not too close to the speakers, so we’d be able to talk. “Is this good?”

“Perfect.”

He held out his arm, and I slid into the seat facing the front of the building. I wasn’t sure why I’d chosen it. His arm was extended to the other side, but for some reason, I just wanted to keep an eye on things.

Bullshit, I called myself out as I sipped my drink, and Carson took his seat across from me.

The truth was, I wanted to sit in this position so I’d be able to see if the man, who I was not going to think about tonight, made an appearance.

We sat chatting for about ten minutes about the hospital and the origin stories of how we ended up in medicine. I was not surprised to learn that he came from a long line of physicians, and that becoming a doctor was his legacy. He, on the other hand, was surprised to hear that I had gone into it for the money and stability. Most doctors claimed to have a calling; I was just realistic about my skill set and future. I was smart, good under pressure, and not squeamish at all. I had the ability to disconnect emotionally when treating a patient without being a total asshole. And people would always need doctors, so I wouldn’t easily be replaced.

The conversation naturally lulled, and Carson asked, “So, how’s Harper?”

He remembered my daughter’s name when he’d never even met her. At least, not since she was a day old. He not only listened but also retained information, which was another tick in his favor.

“She’s good.”

“She just had her birthday, right?”

“Yeah, she turned five on Saturday.”

“And you and her dad—you two aren’t together?”

I wondered if he was asking about Kane because he thought he was the complication I’d mentioned. He was, but not in the way Carson suspected. The complication with Kane came in the form of his childhood best friend/brother-in-law.

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