Page 10 of Doctorshipped
“True. But, otherwise, your trip home was uneventful?”
“Sort of.”
“What does that mean?” Shannon beams. She knows me. She can tell when I’m sitting on something juicy.
“There was this man and his daughter.”
“Oooohh.”
“Nope. Not like that. We kept bumping into one another during my most mortifying moments. First, when I was losing it at the counter, frantic to find the license.”
“Wait, you told me you were fine.”
“I was. I mean, here I am.” I spread my arms out to emphasize how okay I am. All's well that ends well, and all that. “I knew deep down I would ultimately be okay. I didn’t want you to worry. You’ve got enough on your mind with the wedding coming up.”
“I will always worry about you, and I’m here for you. Please don’t soften the blow on my account. We could have driven the eight hours to get you if that’s what it took.”
“Awww. Thanks. I never would have asked you to do that.”
“And Duke would have insisted on coming to get you the moment he heard you were stranded. Let us take care of you, Jayme. We don’t call you the cutest third wheel for nothing.”
Yep. A few of my friends chipped in for a custom T-shirt. Probably that’s my fault for flaunting my life-mission to remain single. But, I wear it proudly. It’s got a little tricycle graphic and the wordsWorld’s Most Adorable Third Wheelemblazoned under the bike.
“So, spill the deets about this man and his daughter and especially about your mortification!”
I groan.
“That bad, huh?” Shannon asks, sipping her smoothie.
“Worse. First there was my massive meltdown, witnessed by all the passengers at the departures counter. Then I nearly missed the flight, but I made it. Turns out I was sitting next to Mister McGrumpypants.”
“Wait, what?”
“He’s got this whole grumpy vibe going for him. It should be off-putting. And it is, trust me. But, it’s also oddly endearing.”
“Okaaayyy.”
“No. Not endearing like I’m giving up on celibacy or abandoning my aim to become a wildly-cool cat lady. More like it’s endearing in a way that catches you off guard. I guess it’s the way he so boldly loves his daughter. She’s got him eating from the palm of her hand. As she should.”
“Sounds adorable.”
“Oh. He is.”
Shannon’s eyes go wide. I look down. What was that? I mean, Grant is adorable, when you think about it. Which I haven’t–much. In an aesthetic way, he’s visually appealing. Like a Rembrandt painting—dark and detailed with light in all the right places. He’s chiseled, but ruffled. Pulled together, but somehow seeming lost under all that bravado and self-control. He seems like a study in contrasts. And he’s definitely broody. And tall. The way he reached the overhead bins with ease means he’s hiding some serious muscles under his button up shirt.
I look up to see Shannon studying me.
“Again, may I remind the jury I will never ever be in a romantic relationship with a man. Also, may I submit that I will never see this man again in my lifetime. And when you hear the rest of my story you’ll breathe a sigh of relief at that fact right along with me. Thirdly, I can appreciate a handsome male. He’s very nice looking. And it wasn’t a hardship to sit next to him. He smelled nice. Like a real man—professional, clean, but also slightly spicy and musky. It was probably some cologne. But it did the trick.”
“Uh huh.” Shannon nods her head, but her lips turn up on one side like she doesn’t believe for an instant that I’m going to be like the last of the Mohicans, only the last of the single women of Bordeaux.
It doesn’t have the same ring to it, but I’m serious. I’ll be happily single until I die.
“So, on with the tales of mortification!” Shannon exclaims.
She downs the rest of her smoothie, stands and takes her glass to the sink. “I have to get ready for senior Zumba, and I don’t want to leave without hearing this.”
“So, Fiona, Grant’s daughter, wanted the window seat. After Grant put my luggage in the overhead for me, I gave her my seat and took the aisle.”
