Page 15 of New River Gorge(ous)
Strong arms steady me, and I’m instantly warmer.
“Peony? What’s going on?”
“Miss MacCord has been discharged, and I suggested we wait here while Brooke brings the vehicle around, but I don’t think Brooke is used to all-nighters. Clearly, she shouldn’t drive.”
I’m leaning against the warmth of the man holding me. I have a sense of the conversation happening about me, but I don’t care. I let my eyes close as I lean into solid warmth. The warmth sighs.
“I happen to live next door to Miss MacCord. I’ll bring my truck around and take the two of them home.”
“Do you think she’s ok?”
My eyes are still closed, but I sense the perusal of my face and flutter one eye open.
He laughs, and I’m surprised by the richness of the sound. It’s like turtle cheesecake, or even better—double chocolate cheesecake with peanut butter.
“She’s fine. She’s just tired.”
Meemaw says something under her breath, but I don’t catch it. I do catch Peony’s sharp intake of breath and her “Miss MacCord!” which tells me whatever Meemaw said was wildly inappropriate, but I’m too tired to care.
Dr. Whistler leads me to a bench and presses my shoulder until I sit on it. “Stay here, Brooke, ok? I’ll drive you and June home.”
“Ok. You sound like cheesecake.”
The low rumble of a laugh hits my ears, and I like the sound. I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes.
8
Dr. Beckett
My old truck has served me well, and I’ve never felt a pang of embarrassment about being a doctor who drives something most people would consider a beater—until this moment.
I pull the truck into the circle drive by the main doors and do a quick scan of the floor. There’s only one receipt from the grocery store languishing on the mat. I scoop it up and shove it into my scrubs pocket. I don’t know why I care, but suddenly I really want Brooke to like being in my truck.
That thought stops me cold.
No.No, Beck.You don’t do this. Remember, you got burned so bad last time you cared you needed an emotional heart transplant.
I hop out of the truck, roll my shoulders a few times, and then walk through the hospital doors. Peony is chatting with June, and Brooke is … snoring softly.
It’s not that much, but she’s asleep, and her head lolls to the side. Her pink pajamas match the pink in her hair cascading over her shoulder.
My mouth goes dry.
June cackles. “If you’re interested, I give you my blessing.”
My eyes snap to June, whose eyes sparkle. Peony’s slightly raised eyebrows are even more concerning.
“I think I shouldn’t be the one to wake her up,” I say, trying to play it off like I was staring at Brooke because I couldn’t figure out how to wake her up, not because she’s so beautiful it hurts my heart.
“I can wake her, Dr. Whistler,” Peony replies with a tight-lipped smile. “You get Miss June in the car.”
I give a curt nod, because that’s all I can manage under Peony’s scrutiny, and take over wheeling June out to my truck. June reaches a hand behind her and rests it on my own. “You know, Brooke needs a strong man. I worry about her. Men these days are just not what they used to be. I know she wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her dating troubles.”
“Dating troubles?” The question flies out of my mouth before I can stop it.
June hums in response. “Yes, her mother told me all about it. A string of bad boyfriends. Thank goodness she broke it off with the last one.”
June’s words somersault through my mind, but we’ve reached the truck. “I’m going to pick you up and help you into the back bench. You can ride with your feet elevated that way.”
