Page 34 of Careless Hope

“Right. Okay. He should walk me to my door.” She shut her eyes as if committing the note to memory in a mental notebook.

“Besides, what kind of a story would your neighbors have for the town if I didn’t?”

Her laughter was like music, easy and light, as she took my hand and we walked up to her doorstep together. It felt good, too good for something that wasn’t supposed to be real. But I pushed that thought aside, focusing instead on the softness of her palm in mine, on the creak of the wooden steps beneath our weight, and on the way the porch light cast a golden halo around her hair.

“Tonight was . . . ” She paused, searching for the right word.

“Surprising?” I offered, leaning casually against her porch railing.

“Exactly,” she agreed with a nod. “Thank you, Walker.”

I tipped my hat in response, then decided to go for it. She wanted my help with physical things. We’d have to jump in the deep end sooner or later, so it may as well be tonight.

“Alright, for educational purposes,” I began, my voice steady even as my pulse thrummed with a rhythm as wild as a stallion’s gallop. “A goodnight kiss is all about the right touch and timing.”

Caroline’s eyes, those deep pools of green that had somehow started to feel familiar, held mine. She nodded, her breath catching just slightly. I wondered if she could hear the undercurrent of something more serious in my voice—a hint of the responsibility I felt not just to teach, but to protect.

I raised my hand, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, letting my fingers trail down to cradle her jawline gently. My other hand found its way to her waist, resting there but not pressing, just enough to guide her closer without demanding it. The scent of her perfume was subtle, like wildflowers after rain, and it made me want to close my eyes and breathe it in. But I didn’t. I kept my gaze locked on hers, searching for any sign of hesitation.

“Lean in slow,” I instructed, doing just that. “And then . . . ”

The moment our lips met, it was like the calm before the storm broke into a frenzy. There was a spark, an undeniable surge of electricity that jolted through me with such force it near knocked the wind out of my sails. Her lips were soft, yielding against mine, and for a split second, I forgot we were standing on her porch, pretending.

We both pulled back sharply, the night air cool against where our skin had touched. Caroline cleared her throat, a blush staining her cheeks.

“That was good. Thank you. Next time,” she said, her voice a mix of embarrassment and a newfound boldness, “we’ll have to make sure the session is private so we can advance.”

“Right,” I managed, trying to find my footing again. “Private.”

She smiled, one corner of her mouth lifting in a way that told me she was starting to enjoy this game between us. With a nod, she turned and slipped inside her house, leaving me alone on the porch with the echo of that electrifying kiss.

The door closed with a soft click, and I stood there for a longmoment, staring at the wooden grain, my mind racing. Maybe it was the shock of the unexpected connection or the weight of the reasons we were helping each other . . . but something had shifted.

I tipped my hat, though she couldn’t see me, a gesture of respect to the night, to her, and to whatever crazy path I’d started to walk down. Then I turned and headed down the steps, my boots thudding solidly against the wood, grounding me back in reality.

But hell if I wouldn’t think about that kiss all night.

11

Caroline

I leanedback into the cushion of my office chair, the leather creaking under the shift of my weight, and let out a long, confused sigh. The ghost of Walker’s grin danced behind my eyelids every time I blinked—a reminder of our date that had gone surprisingly well. Too well. It was just dinner and some light-hearted conversation, but the way he looked at me made my heart do somersaults.

Why would Walker Anderson, with his easy charm and a smile that could probably convince the sun to rise, be interested in someone like me? The girl who had her nose buried in textbooks while others were learning the art of flirting. It didn’t add up unless it was all part of the act. Our pretend relationship was supposed to be a charade, a means to an end for both of us. I couldn’t afford to get caught up in his endless charm.

My gaze drifted to the window where the vast expanse of Whittier Falls stretched out before me. The town was drenched in warm hues as the sun began its descent, casting long shadows over the streets I once roamed as a shy, studious teenager. It wasironic, really, how I’d returned here as a doctor, yet was still grappling with the same insecurities.

“Focus,” I muttered to myself, shaking away the image of Walker’s light blue eyes. I needed to concentrate on the lessons, the process, not the man who delivered them with a crooked smile. This was just a temporary arrangement, nothing more. Personal feelings had no place in this equation, and I couldn’t afford to forget that. Not when there was so much at stake—my newfound reputation, my father’s legacy, and the responsibility I carried on my shoulders.

I tapped my phone screen, composing a message to Walker with more hesitation than I cared to admit. My thumb hovered over the send button—a gateway to vulnerability—and I was acutely aware of the fluttering in my stomach.

Hey Walker, can we meet up on Friday? I’m eager to get started on the other things…

I grimaced at the screen. Was that too casual? Too formal? Too ridiculous? I let out a breath and hit send before I could second-guess myself again.

The waiting was the worst part—the silence stretching out like an endless prairie. I fiddled with the edge of my white coat, trying to distract myself with thoughts of prescriptions and patient care instead of his potential reply.

Then, my phone buzzed, slicing through the nerves.

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