Page 73 of The Cowboy's Second Chance Bride

“One of the longest eight months of my life. And I hated myself for wanting to take out a doctor. Didn’t he do something great like…”

“Orthopedics. He never made me feel like you do.”

“Tiny dick, huh?”

I laughed. “Why is it always about the size?”

“I’m right, though, aren’t I? Not that I like even thinking about you and him.”

I slid my hand down his chest to below his hip to stroke what was pressing against me hard.

The next morning, he piggybacked me to the car and took me into town to see the doctor. I texted Cricket to tell her we should meet up. I was waiting on the cold patients’ table with that stupid paper on it. Every time I moved, it crinkled or ripped as it stuck to the back of my legs. Cal leaned up against the wall, checking his phone.

Bryce Jacobson, Hannah’s husband and the town vet, walked in wearing a white lab coat, with a stethoscope around his neck.

“Ha, ha.” I said. “Did Cricket send you? I don’t need a vet. I need a doctor.”

He held up a hand and smiled. “Sorry, not Bryce, just his twin, Bryant. People get us confused all the time. Even our parents.”

I leaned in close and could see no difference. He had the same face, laugh lines and all. The good doctor waited patiently, his hands in his pockets allowing me to survey him.

“Seriously, and you’re a hot doctor?”

He nodded, rocking on his heels from my compliment. “I moved here about six months ago. Bryce kept talking it up, and after my divorce, I figured a fresh start would do me good.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

He shrugged it off.

Bryant was the cliché of the handsome country doctor, and I would have bet cold hard cash he was being heavily chased by the local women. Hot, educated guys like him were prime pickings. In the years without Cal, Bryant would have been on my ‘consider pursuing’ list. He was the kind of guy that checked all the right boxes.

“I bet you are insanely popular in town,” I said. “Probably get a daily visit from one of the church ladies professing an ailment they don’t have, but they do have the phone number and a pitch for their single granddaughter.”

Bryant sat on a stool and rolled toward me, then took my foot in his hands. They were soft and warm. As I’d done over the last ten years when an attractive man touched me, I waited for a reaction—a fluttering of the stomach, a piqued interest. But nothing came. Only one man did it for me and always had. I gave Cal a smile, and my heart skipped a beat.

“How did you know?” the doctor said with a laugh. “Oh. Wait. Sabrina, right?”

I nodded.

“You’re Hannah’s matchmaker friend. I have heard all about you.” His smile widened. “You’re not going to jump into the mix with the church ladies, are you? Call me old-fashioned, but I’d like to meet the next Mrs. Jacobson by chance.” He flashed me a grin, then studied my ankle.

“Nope, I only work with people who want it.” I winced, and Cal took a step closer.

Bryant apologized and slowly started to move my foot, rolling the ankle. “Tell me when it hurts.”

We did this for a cycle of three, and Bryant wrote something on his notepad. “You going to be in town long?”

I shrugged. “That all depends.” I glanced at Cal. We were waiting for his dad to make the next move, and we hadn’t really talked about what came next for us.

Bryant looked between me and Cal. “How do you two know each other?”

“College,” I said.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Cal said at the same time.

CAL

Okay, a man knew when another man was sizing up his woman. And that was what the doc did when he came into the room and saw Sabrina. His posture straightened, his smile widened, and I caught a glimpse of him breathing hard in his armpit, probably checking his breath.

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