Page 68 of An Unfinished Memory

I grinned. “Aggie wasn’t interested, but Ansen said he’d pay double or triple if I ever thought of leaving.”

“Doc Sutton?” a vaguely familiar female voice said.

Adrenaline flooded my veins. Who would know me in Medora? I found one of my customers waving at her family to continue following the hostess. “I’ll catch up,” she said to them.

Walter the Maine coon’s owner. What was her na— Got it. “Monica. Hi. Getting away for the weekend?”

“Definitely. We always come to Medora before the season’s over. A little back-to-school, goodbye-summer trip.” Her gaze jumped to Wilder and returned to me, brown eyes full of interest. I purposely didn’t introduce him.

Monica might be closer to fifty, but she could still appreciate Wilder’s rugged appearance with the stubble shadowing his cheeks and jaw and the way his dark eyes made you want to confess all your crimes. His ruffled hair from wearing his cowboy hat earlier softened the edges of his face. But I doubted attraction was why she kept looking at him.

“Are you going to the musical?” I was asking for my own recon. Where did I have to avoid so I didn’t have to explain Wilder?

“Tonight.” Her gaze swirled to Wilder again.

My smile was turning forced. “Well, enjoy.”

“You too.” She inspected Wilder one last time, then wove through the tables in the direction her family had gone.

I faced Wilder. “Sorry. I didn’t want to?—”

“You don’t need to explain.”

I felt like I did. Not acknowledging the guy I was going to have sex with all weekend seemed more than a little disrespectful. “Her cat is gorgeous and one of my patients.”

“I could tell you like her and her cat. You lit up in a way you never did at the ranch. Tell me more about your patients.”

If he wasn’t bothered, I wouldn’t be. I did enjoy getting to know the people and pets who came into my office. Each new client was a testament that perhaps I hadn’t made the wrong choice. Some days, I needed the confirmation more than others.

I launched into stories about the cats and dogs I cared for, the occasional chicken and duck, and of course, Aggie’s pigs. When we finished our meal, we left but stopped on the sidewalk outside the restaurant.

“Did you see they have an ice cream shop?” Wilder asked.

“Really?” I looked around.

He grabbed my hand, and we started in the direction of where the ice cream shop must be.

“Have you committed the town’s layout to memory already?”

“It’s only as big as Buffalo Gully.”

He acted like it wasn’t a big deal, but pleasure wound through me, leaving warm, glowing trails. He’d studied Medora while we ate. He was puttingin the effort.

I couldn’t dwell on what his attention meant. I didn’t want to ruin my vacation by reminding myself this was temporary.

We found the place, went inside, and ordered. We carried our cones outside to the sitting area next to the shop. He took a bench seat and patted the spot next to him.

I sat and crossed one leg over the other, angling myself toward him. I swiped my tongue across the chocolate ice cream. Creamy sweetness burst across my tongue. “Ohmigosh,” I groaned. “This is so good.”

“You’re killing me, Doc.” He chomped a bite off his mint chocolate chip.

I deliberately licked along the top of my ice cream and held his gaze.

“You’re playing with fire, Sutton.”

Giggling, I kept it up but mostly out of necessity. How else was I supposed to eat an ice cream cone? But I loved the way his eyes focused on my tongue and how I swallowed.

I was close to the cone and got some chocolate on my upper lip. “Oops.”

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