She didn’t want to try. She wanted to go back inside, pour a glass of wine, and watch CSI reruns until she went numb.
Mostly, she wanted him to go away and leave her in peace. As usual, he wasn’t cooperating.
As if to make the point, he said, “You don’t mind helping me pick out the wine, do you?” He wiggled the fingers that had almost undone her. “No gloves yet, so I didn’t want to carry it all the way from Back Bay.”
Damn his drawl. She unzipped her parka. Flapped it a few times, then zipped it halfway. “There’s a wine store on the way,” she said, sticking her sweaty hands back into her mittens and setting off down the driveway with her usual rapid stride. “You can’t go wrong with a mid-range cab or Chianti. We’re all about red in my family.”
Then she realized she was talking to thin air. She should’ve remembered that evolution moved faster than Cody.
She pulled up and waited while he crawled up to join her, then set off again, trying to moderate her pace. But no matter how slow she walked, he fell behind.
He ambled. He sauntered. A snail could have outrun him.
She simply could not walk that slow.
Half a block down, she threw up her hands. “Are you sure you work in the ER?” She pictured a trauma patient bleeding out while he strolled to the gurney.
“The hectic pace suits me.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m greased lightning in the ER.”
“You’re frozen molasses now.”
He smiled. She turned her back on his dimple, strode ahead. “The store’s right around the corner. We should be there by nightfall.”
His laugh rumbled behind her. He had a great laugh, deep and sudden, like she’d surprised it out of him. She had to get away from it. It was too warm, too tempting. She hit the gas and left him to follow at his own glacial pace.
When he came through the door, she pushed two bottles into his hands. “These’ll do.”
He scanned the labels. “Uh-uh.” He moved past her down the aisle.
She trailed after him. “What do you mean, uh-uh? What’s wrong with them?”
“Not a thing.” He propped them back on the shelf, reached for their pricier classico cousins.
She puffed up. “They’re perfectly acceptable mid-range wines.”
He headed for the register. She trailed after him. He paid. She simmered.
Out on the sidewalk, she went at him again. “I can’t believe you spent a hundred bucks on two bottles of chianti to drink with my sister’s lasagna. Who’re you trying to impress? Just because you’re a doctor with money coming out of your ears—”
He whirled at a speed that had her blinking, stuck his face down in hers, and gave her both barrels. “That’s right, I’m a doctor ! And you’re the only woman in America who thinks that’s a bad thing!” He pulled back, insult all over his face. “As for money, I guaran-damn-tee you make more than I do. And without the loans to pay off, either.”
Then he gave her his back, took off at double his normal pace. After a few beats, she found her voice.
“Hey. Cody. You’re going the wrong way.”
C ODY MADE A show of stomping back to her. “I’m surprised you didn’t let me wander away.” He said it tartly, letting her know she’d rubbed his fur the wrong way.
“Amelia would’ve sent out a search party.” There was an apology in her smile. And an olive branch.
Fat chance. It’s not that easy, sister.
“I don’t doubt you could’ve talked her out of it,” he said. “Convinced her I’m an asshole. I’m sure you could sell it.”
“You’re many things, Cody, but you’re not an asshole.” She sounded almost regretful.
She set off down Mount Vernon Street. He didn’t try to keep up. She stopped at the corner, visibly swallowed her impatience. At least she felt bad enough not to nag him into a sprint.
He cut her some slack, gave her a smile that turned her cheeks pinker than the cold. She was mule-headed, mercurial, downright impossible to please, and he was tired of getting
Mostly, she wanted him to go away and leave her in peace. As usual, he wasn’t cooperating.
As if to make the point, he said, “You don’t mind helping me pick out the wine, do you?” He wiggled the fingers that had almost undone her. “No gloves yet, so I didn’t want to carry it all the way from Back Bay.”
Damn his drawl. She unzipped her parka. Flapped it a few times, then zipped it halfway. “There’s a wine store on the way,” she said, sticking her sweaty hands back into her mittens and setting off down the driveway with her usual rapid stride. “You can’t go wrong with a mid-range cab or Chianti. We’re all about red in my family.”
Then she realized she was talking to thin air. She should’ve remembered that evolution moved faster than Cody.
She pulled up and waited while he crawled up to join her, then set off again, trying to moderate her pace. But no matter how slow she walked, he fell behind.
He ambled. He sauntered. A snail could have outrun him.
She simply could not walk that slow.
Half a block down, she threw up her hands. “Are you sure you work in the ER?” She pictured a trauma patient bleeding out while he strolled to the gurney.
“The hectic pace suits me.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m greased lightning in the ER.”
“You’re frozen molasses now.”
He smiled. She turned her back on his dimple, strode ahead. “The store’s right around the corner. We should be there by nightfall.”
His laugh rumbled behind her. He had a great laugh, deep and sudden, like she’d surprised it out of him. She had to get away from it. It was too warm, too tempting. She hit the gas and left him to follow at his own glacial pace.
When he came through the door, she pushed two bottles into his hands. “These’ll do.”
He scanned the labels. “Uh-uh.” He moved past her down the aisle.
She trailed after him. “What do you mean, uh-uh? What’s wrong with them?”
“Not a thing.” He propped them back on the shelf, reached for their pricier classico cousins.
She puffed up. “They’re perfectly acceptable mid-range wines.”
He headed for the register. She trailed after him. He paid. She simmered.
Out on the sidewalk, she went at him again. “I can’t believe you spent a hundred bucks on two bottles of chianti to drink with my sister’s lasagna. Who’re you trying to impress? Just because you’re a doctor with money coming out of your ears—”
He whirled at a speed that had her blinking, stuck his face down in hers, and gave her both barrels. “That’s right, I’m a doctor ! And you’re the only woman in America who thinks that’s a bad thing!” He pulled back, insult all over his face. “As for money, I guaran-damn-tee you make more than I do. And without the loans to pay off, either.”
Then he gave her his back, took off at double his normal pace. After a few beats, she found her voice.
“Hey. Cody. You’re going the wrong way.”
C ODY MADE A show of stomping back to her. “I’m surprised you didn’t let me wander away.” He said it tartly, letting her know she’d rubbed his fur the wrong way.
“Amelia would’ve sent out a search party.” There was an apology in her smile. And an olive branch.
Fat chance. It’s not that easy, sister.
“I don’t doubt you could’ve talked her out of it,” he said. “Convinced her I’m an asshole. I’m sure you could sell it.”
“You’re many things, Cody, but you’re not an asshole.” She sounded almost regretful.
She set off down Mount Vernon Street. He didn’t try to keep up. She stopped at the corner, visibly swallowed her impatience. At least she felt bad enough not to nag him into a sprint.
He cut her some slack, gave her a smile that turned her cheeks pinker than the cold. She was mule-headed, mercurial, downright impossible to please, and he was tired of getting
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