Page 8 of Come to Me

When he reached for his phone and he fell on her, a zap of awareness she hadn’t felt in a long time sizzled through her. She closed her eyes to bring it all back in her mind again. The scent of soap on his skin. The warmth of his chest covering hers. The flash of something in his eyes that made her think he felt the zap too. But just as she was enjoying it, he jumped up like she had cooties.

The poor guy worried he’d offended her. Any other guy, she probably wouldn’t have liked how he’d ended up on top of her. Then again, any other guy, she probably wouldn’t have taken his phone. It was a high-school sort of thing to do, but she wasn’t completely embarrassed by her immaturity. If she could help Patrick find what he’d lost, maybe he’d tell his family and friends and they’d come to find peace and quiet here too.

Based on how discombobulated Patrick looked, Micki figured it would be an interesting six weeks. How much would he loosen up and enjoy himself? Would any of that enjoyment come from time with her? She imagined him in the lake, the strong chest she’d felt under his shirt bare for her to admire. Her cheeks heated at her carnal thoughts. It was silly to think of him like that. Sure, there was chemistry, but they were from two completely different worlds. Even if he did find himself, he’d still be the city slicker doctor from New York, and she’d be the tomboy country girl from Virginia.

The next morning, Micki woke to the sound of her brother’s sheriff’s SUV pulling in front of the house. She reached for her phone, checking the time.

“Ugh!” She’d slept through her alarm. Jumping out of bed, she rushed to the bathroom and wrangled her thick hair into a ponytail and slipped on her sneakers, glad that she wore shorts and a t-shirt for pajamas.

She rushed to the door just in time to see her brother Logan help Tate down from the truck.

“I don’t want to stay here. I want to go with you.” Tate cried, his arms and legs flailing.

“Sorry, buddy. I’ve got to work.”

“I can come. I’ll stay in the car.”

“Hey Tate, we’ve got swimming plans for today.” Micki hoped Tate would find that fun enough to let go of the death grip he had on Logan.

“I don’t want to swim; I want my dad.”

Logan let out a long helpless sigh. “I’ve got to go to work.” He led Tate to her. “I love you son. See you later.”

“No!” Tate reached for Logan, but Micki took Tate’s hand, hating that she had to keep him from his father.

Logan climbed into his truck and looked out at her and his son. The pain in his eyes a window to how this scene gutted him. She wished there was something she could do.

He put the vehicle in gear and started up the drive.

“Let go!” Tate jerked free and ran after Logan’s SUV. He made it only a few yards up the drive before the truck was too far away. He turned and seethed at Micki. “I hate you.”

It was a stab in the heart, even as she understood where it was coming from. They were all trying to be patient with Tate. The kid lost his mother not so long ago, so of course there would be issues. But the level of anger made Micki wonder if Tate needed more than just the love of his family.

“Let’s go make breakfast.” She held out her hand to him.

“No!” He picked up a rock and threw it.

“Tate! No throwing rocks.”

He ignored her, picking up a sizable rock and throwing it with both hands. It hit Patrick’s car, shattering the side window.

Tate froze.

“Anger is a scary thing when it gets away from us, isn’t it?” Patrick’s voice came from behind as he walked from the door to the porch.

“Dr. Andres—” Micki wasn’t sure what to say.

He continued to his car.

“I didn’t mean to.” Tate recoiled.

“I know.” Patrick stood next to Tate, eyeing the damage to his rental.

“What are you going to do to me? My dad is a deputy, he can put me in jail.”

Her heart broke at Tate’s regret and fear.

Patrick thought for a moment. “Is that what you’d do if I broke your window?”

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