Page 139 of Summer with the Single Dad

Brooke glanced at her phone. “It’s three twenty. Dr. and Mrs. Awful are probably officially married now. How do you feel?”

Justine exhaled as she uncrossed and recrossed her legs beneath her fluffy white robe. “Numb, really. Tad was so many red flags from the get-go and I just ignored a lot of them. On paper, he was perfect. Educated, accomplished, from a good family. My parents liked him. But he was—I mean, is, so freaking arrogant. I know that as surgeons, we all have a bit of arrogance. But his was out of this world. His head is so big it needs its own zip code. Saying he has a god-complex would be an understatement.”

Brooke nodded. “So, bullet dodged. They can make each other miserable for the rest of their lives and you can find peace, joy, and fulfilment.”

Sighing, Justine glanced out into the garden with its perfectly manicured trees, the babbling waterfall and pond complete with koi and turtles, and she fought back the tears that threatened to spill over. “I want to move here.”

Brooke nodded.

“But I don’t think Bennett wants this to be anything more than a fling for the length of my reservation. He does nothing but bring up how temporary this is.”

“Clint was similar. I mean, so was I for a little while. But the island is so easy to fall in love with.”

“And I’m already in love with it. And I’m in love with the girls.”

“Are you in love with Bennett?” Brooke’s brows lifted on her smooth forehead.

“It’s too soon for that, but I know I could be. He’s helped me overcome so much in the short time we’ve known each other. But I worry that he sees me as just a chaotic mess. Fun for a while, but not something he wants to permanently add to his plate.”

Brooke scrunched her face in confusion. “You? A chaotic mess? I don’t see that at all.”

“I came here looking for direction. I don’t know if I want to practice medicine anymore and I’m looking for … I don’t know, a sign on what to do next. And I thought I’d found it. I want to buy a place or build a place here.”

Frowning, Brooke sipped her mimosa. “I don’t think there’s anything for sale right now.”

“That’s what Bennett said. But then I suggested that I could also put in a proposal for Bonn Remmen’s land and if I got it, then I could give it to the guys with the caveat they leave me a small plot for a tiny house.”

“That’s a long way’s away from happening—if they even get the land. What would you do in the meantime?”

“Bennett said the same thing.” She scoffed. “I’m not normally this idealistic. I’m usually the one who examines every angle twice before making a decision. Measure five times, cut once. That’s me. But since moving here, my whole outlook has changed.”

“It’s island time.” Brooke smiled. “Everything slows down, including your brain.”

“It really feels that way. I just feel it in my heart—which I know is not actually where we feel emotions, it’s all in the amygdala—but I feel that this is where I’m meant to be. I just don’t know what I’m meant to be.”

Brooke nodded in understanding. Justine didn’t have to see her eyes—which were hidden behind big sunglasses—to know the woman was looking at her with sympathy. “Well, if there is anything I can do to help, please let me know. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you.” She reached across the small stone table for Justine’s hand and gave it a small squeeze. “I do hope things between you and Bennett work out though. He’s far less serious and smiles more since you arrived.”

Justine was about to open her mouth when a cry for help from one of the other tables pulled her and Brooke’s attention. “Help! Somebody help!”

Brooke and Justine both surged to their feet and raced over to find a woman, probably around forty-five on the ground. Her face, neck, and chest were covered in red hives. “She’s allergic to cucumbers and took a sip of the water without realizing it’s cucumber water,” her friend said, as she kneeled beside the woman. “She’s severely allergic.”

Already the allergic woman’s face was turning red, then purple.

They didn’t have a lot of time. Her tongue and throat were swelling up and she was soon going to be unable to breathe.

Justine kneeled down beside her. “What’s her name?” she asked the friend.

“Jenn. We’re … we’re here celebrating her promotion. Came over to the island for a day trip at the spa.”

“Does she have an EpiPen?”

“I … I don’t know.”

“Go find her purse and check.”

Her friend nodded and took off.

Justine checked the woman’s pulse on her neck. Crap! “I’ve lost her pulse. Starting compressions.”

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