Page 30 of The Sheriff & the Nurse

“Do you think the fake fiancé thing will last very long?” Walker asked.

“Nah. I’m going with her to the hospital tomorrow and Mark found prints on the gate outside her house. We’ll wrap it up soon.” Clint sounded tired. Was he tired of her and all this extra work? She thought they’d had two brilliant days together at her ranch. Had he been playing for the crowd, her family, and their guests that entire time? What about the times he’d touched her when they were alone, kissed her face, almost kissed her lips?

She rubbed at her chest. Her stomach turned over again, and her body felt cold all over. Maybe she had the flu or maybe her heart had just been broken. Even as a medical professional, she couldn’t determine which it was.

“Thanks, bro. I’ll wait to talk to her until it’s finished. I don’t want to risk Lily in any way. Thanks for watching out for her.”

“Of course. It’s my job.”

His job. She was only a job to Clint. Then why did he keep kissing her face, holding her close, saying sweet things, giving her meaningful looks? Nobody would name Sheriff Clint Coleville a player, but she felt played right now.

“Much obliged to you, brother. I’ll see you Sunday.” The door opened and then closed.

Lily rushed toward the counter, fanning her face to hide any sign of tears. She grabbed her water glass and chugged a drink as Clint walked slowly back into the main room.

Turning to face him, she said a prayer that she could hide how much she yearned for him and how broken she felt right now.

“It was Walker,” he said unnecessarily. He looked as tired and beaten down as she felt.

“Oh.” She made her voice bright and forced a smile. “What did he need?”

Clint looked her over, slowly. His gaze felt like a caress. His blue eyes were filled with longing. She wanted to run to him and kiss him. When their kisses lit up the night and dispelled any arguments about if they should be together, she would demand to know if he could simply let her go and let his brother have a chance with her. If he said yes, she’d punch him in that defined abdomen.

She held onto the glass tightly to stop her own reaction.

“Just clarifying some things.”

“Hmm.”

Did he know she’d listened in? He hadn’t made any effort to lower his voice. Maybe he wanted her to know he wasn’t interested, make it easier on himself rather than having to reject her outright. Could the famed Sheriff Clint Coleville be a wimp when it came to relationships? It didn’t fit, but the fact was she’d never known him to date anyone except for Sheryl. Maybe he was broken when it came to love.

“Well. I’m headed to bed,” she managed to say in a level voice, frustrated with him and the impending doom of going to the hospital tomorrow and facing Dr. Hampshire. “Five a.m. comes early.”

“Do you need to be there earlier than seven?”

“About six-forty.”

“Okay. We’ll leave at five-thirty, if that’s all right. We can pick up the listening device at my office on the way.”

“Perfect. Goodnight.” She hurried around him. She half-prayed that he’d grab her around the waist, push her against the wall, kiss her passionately, and explain he’d simply been trying to be conscientious of his little brother’s feelings.

He didn’t. He watched her go, and he did and said … nothing.

Lily hurried to her room. She needed prayer, a good night’s rest, and possibly a long cry. What a mess she was in. Finally with the man she’d always longed for and falling for him, and Clint was only doing his job.

She should be stewing about what would happen with Dr. Hampshire tomorrow. Instead, she could only hear the words ringing through her head:

You … me … it’s a no.

Those awful words were as true today as they’d been two years ago.

Chapter

Eight

The insideof Clint’s truck felt stifling even though Lily had the temperature on her side at sixty-two. They’d each drunk a protein shake and he’d loaded a cooler of drinks and snacks into his truck before they left his house.

Neither of them had said much this morning. His grip on the steering wheel was casual, as if he didn’t have a worry in the world. That bothered her. She would’ve preferred a death grip and anxious glances her way. She grew more anxious the closer they got to work. Would Dr. Hampshire try something? Would it be awkward to go through her day with Clint listening in?

---