The Doctor's Runaway Fiancée (6 page)

Chapter Seven

S
ylvie rose extra early the next day to bake. Since it was Labor Day, most of the restaurants, cafés and coffee shops she had contracts with had ordered extra of the cakes and pastries they normally requested. In addition, she made up little cake bites and decorated them with the Star Wars characters that were so popular now.

As Andrew hadn't made an appearance by the time the baked goods were ready to be delivered, Sylvie loaded up Ethel with bakery boxes and began her deliveries.

She wondered what had delayed him. Did it have something to do with the phone call he'd received last evening? As the Sweet Adelines event was winding down, he'd received a call from a patient back in Boston.

Sylvie told herself to relax and enjoy the morning solitude, but her thoughts kept drifting to how he'd looked at the piano, fingers flying over the keys. Then there was that “almost” kiss in the alcove...

Her thoughts were on anything but business as she made her final delivery to a local coffee shop. Hill of Beans in Jackson Hole was the only store in the coffee empire begun by Cole Lassiter where you could often find the man himself working the counter.

From what she'd heard, Cole was a local boy who'd left town with nothing but a high school education and had returned home a success. As Sylvie opened the side door, she spotted him behind the counter, coaching an obviously new employee on the fine art of making the perfect cup of cappuccino.

Cole looked up when the bells chimed. He smiled and lifted a hand in greeting. In many ways he reminded her of Andrew. Both had lean, athletic builds, dark hair and similarly shaped eyes. But there was a wariness and a hardness in Cole's eyes that said he'd survived the worst life had to offer.

Sylvie recognized the look because when she gazed into the mirror every morning, she saw that same wariness, yet Cole had climbed that steep mountain and was now happily on the other side. He was married and had two children with his wife, Meg, a physical therapist.

Sylvie had gotten to know Meg fairly well. She was one of the owners of Body Harmony Inc., the multitherapy specialty clinic where Josie worked as a massage therapist.

Setting the tray of scones, cinnamon rolls and other goodies on the counter, Sylvie smiled at the teenage employee Cole was coaching.

Something in the girl's eyes told Sylvie this was another person who'd had a rough start in life. Sylvie wasn't surprised Cole had hired her. He was known for giving others a helping hand up.

He'd done that for her, for her business. When she'd stopped in to discuss providing the treats people loved to have with their coffee, they'd sat and talked for the longest time, simply getting acquainted. Despite the fact that she'd had bills to pay and no income at that moment, Sylvie had tried not to let her desperation show.

She remembered the strong shake of his hand when they'd come to an agreement. His kindness and faith in her were something she planned to pay forward one day.

Cole's gaze skimmed the tray's contents. He gave a nod of approval. “These look great, Sylvie.”

The girl—Amber, according to her name tag—stepped forward, her brown eyes widening at the sight of all the goodies, settling on the minicakes. “You made these?”

Sylvie nodded.

“How'd you know what to do?”

She understood the puzzled look. Her mother hadn't been handy in the kitchen, either.

“I taught myself. YouTube videos, online tutorials, sites dedicated to baking. You name it, I watched or read it. I experimented. I learned what worked...and what didn't.” Sylvie smiled wryly, recalling those early disasters. “After high school, I received a scholarship to a culinary institute in New York City.”

A look of awe blanketed the girl's face. “You must be really smart.”

“I simply loved baking.” Sylvie shrugged off the praise. “Creating feeds my soul.”

The girl nodded, then shifted her gaze to a spot behind Sylvie. “May I help you, sir?”

A prickle tickled Sylvie's spine. She didn't need to turn her head to know it was Andrew. If she hadn't been so focused on the conversation, on the girl's enthusiasm, she'd have felt his presence sooner.

How long had he been standing there? she wondered. Then again, what did that matter?

“I'm with her.” He gestured with his head toward Sylvie.

She saw Cole's gaze sharpen and his expression turn speculative. Keeping her own expression bland, Sylvie shifted and smiled at Andrew.

When he placed a hand on her shoulder, she felt the heat of his touch all the way through the thin cotton to the skin beneath. “I got caught up on a call.”

Andrew switched his focus to Cole and Amber. “Any chance we can get a couple of cappuccinos to go?”

“I believe we can manage that order.” Cole smiled at his new employee. “Would you like to make them?”

The girl hesitated momentarily, then nodded.

“Just remember.” Sensing Amber's uncertainty, Sylvie spoke in an encouraging tone. “Practice really does make perfect.”

Amber stepped to the cappuccino machine, squared her shoulders and began to work the controls. She glanced back for a second and Sylvie shot her a wink.

When Sylvie refocused on the men, she found Cole and Andrew talking sports with an ease that surprised her. “Do you know each other?”

“I wandered in here a couple of days ago.” Andrew glanced around the shop, his gaze lingering on the yellow stars plastered on the shop's windows. “I asked Cole about the interesting decor.”

Sylvie had noticed the bright yellow cutouts but hadn't really paid attention to them. She stepped close for a better look. Each star contained the name of a person and “People's Health Center.”

Obviously sensing her puzzlement, Cole moved to the window and plucked one of the stars. “This name represents an individual who contributed to the clinic that will serve the medically indigent in the area,” he explained.

“Is that the building out on the highway?” Sylvie drove by the square, one-story building with the stone facade often. The place had been under construction since she'd arrived in Jackson Hole. “I noticed it now has a big Grand Opening sign out front.”

“The grand opening is this Saturday. There will be tours and Hill of Beans will have a beverage cart in the parking lot offering free lattes and cappuccinos.” A satisfied smile lifted Cole's lips. “A lot of people in Jackson Hole have worked long and hard to make this clinic a reality.”

“You said something the other day about a Dr. McGregor being instrumental,” Andrew prompted.

“Mitzi McGregor is an orthopedic surgeon here in Jackson. She and her husband have been pushing for this for a while now.” Cole glanced at Sylvie. “When you grow up in poverty, you understand the challenges kids and adults face in obtaining even the most basic health care.”

Before more could be said, Amber returned with two “go” cups. “I hope you like them.”

“I'm sure we will.” Impulsively Sylvie placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. “I'm going to have you make all my drinks in the future.”

Amber flushed, but Sylvie saw the words had pleased the girl.

She picked up her drink.

“If you end up running short of doctors to staff the clinic, I can function as a locum tenens while I'm here and see patients,” Andrew told Cole.

Though Cole appeared to understand what that meant, Sylvie didn't have a clue. She waited until she and Andrew had stepped outside to ask him. “What does ‘locum tenens' mean?”

He took her arm. “Let's go for a walk and I'll tell you.”

As Hill of Beans was her final stop of the morning, there wasn't anywhere Sylvie needed to be.

“I have a license to practice medicine in Massachusetts,” Andrew said as they strolled down the sidewalk. Because of the early hour, most of the businesses were still closed. “I won't be here long enough to apply for and receive a Wyoming license. Locum tenens is a way for doctors to temporarily fill in for another doctor who is unavailable, usually because of illness or vacation.”

It sounded complicated to Sylvie. But as he continued to explain, she realized none of this got to the heart of what she really wanted to know. “You're here on a type of vacation. Why do you want to work?”

When his footsteps slowed, she glanced around and realized they'd reached the downtown district that edged into residential, where lawns were like carpets of green and brightly colored flowers bloomed in hanging planters from porches and around trees.

Andrew paused in front of a black fence with ornate scrollwork that led into a small neighborhood park. “This looks like a good place to rest.”

Sylvie had noticed the park before but had never been inside. There was a small play area for children boasting an old-fashioned merry-go-round, a metal slide and some rocking animals on springs.

There was also a swing set with U-shaped seats, wrought-iron benches and bushes sculpted in the shapes of various animals.

Ignoring the benches, Sylvie headed for the swings and took a seat. After a momentary hesitation, Andrew commandeered the swing closest to hers.

Dropping her bag to the ground, she sipped her cappuccino. “You haven't answered my question.”

“I enjoy the practice of medicine.” He took a sip from the red cup. She could tell he was pleasantly surprised by the taste when he put the cup back to his lips for a long drink. “It's hard to keep these clinics fully staffed, especially at the beginning.”

“How would you know? You've never worked one before.” She might have said it as a statement, assuming he was a guy whose practice catered to the wealthy, but the truth was, she didn't know if he had or not. Sylvie was beginning to realize there could be a lot about her former fiancé she didn't know.

“The first time was during a residency rotation.” His gaze lifted to the sky as if he was tempted to swing for the sky. Instead he refocused on her. He said, looking oddly at ease in the swing, “Once I finished my residency and fellowship, I had to cut down to once a month because I was busy launching my concierge practice.”

“Where you only see rich people.”

He winced. “A practice where I've agreed to be available to patients who want their doctor available 24/7.”

“What are those people doing while you're here?”

“I'm still available by phone or email. I have an associate who fills in for me.” He paused, his attention diverted to a tree where a squirrel sat scolding a blue jay.

After a second, his gaze returned to her. “Concierge medicine isn't for everyone, but I like getting to know my patients. It's a very personal relationship. It also allows me to help out with the family business.”

The family business, Sylvie knew, was O'Shea Sports, a huge—very profitable—conglomerate. She hadn't been surprised when she heard Franklin—Andrew's father—accuse her of being after his money.

Franklin's arguments had made a lot of sense.

For the moment Andrew's father remained at the helm of the business, but from that overheard conversation Sylvie also knew Franklin planned to eventually step aside and hand over much of his duties to his son. Despite the fact that Andrew had his own career and his sister, Corinne, had been playing an active role in the business for the past five years. The patriarchal system was alive and well in the O'Shea family.

“I'll answer calls while I'm here,” he said. “It would be presumptuous to think we'd be together 24/7.”

“Thank God,” Sylvie muttered under her breath, although she'd never found spending time with Andrew to be a hardship. He was an intelligent man with a keen sense of humor surprisingly in sync with her own.

He grinned. “I heard that.”

She merely smiled and took a sip of her drink.

“I heard what you said to Amber.”

Glancing at him, she cocked her head.

“About baking being your passion, about having the urge to create, to run your own business.”

“All true.”

“I can't believe none of that came up when we were together.” He frowned, stared down at his cup.

She downed the rest of the contents in her cup and tossed it in the trash, then returned to the swing. “We weren't together all that long. I bet you also didn't know I love to swing high.”

As if to illustrate, she began to pump her legs until the swing soared so high Sylvie swore she could touch the treetops.

When she was a child, she'd often walk to a local park. It was nowhere near as nice as this one. There was no shiny black gate with gilded leaves, no carefully manicured bushes. But there had been swings and when she soared into the air she left her troubles on the ground. At least for those few minutes.

She saw Andrew toss his cup in the trash. Then he began to swing until he, too, was high in the air.

After a moment, her breath came in short puffs and she laughed with the sheer joy of the moment. When they finally slowed and stopped, it felt as if all was right with the world.

She was laughing when she rose from the swing. When she stumbled slightly, Andrew was there to steady her. She let herself fall against him, her face tilted up.

Her breath caught in her throat at the look in his eyes.

With a gentle hand he brushed a strand of hair back from her face.

Sylvie knew, as sure as she knew her own name, that Andrew was going to kiss her.

And she wasn't going to stop him.

* * *

Closing his mouth over Sylvie's sweet lips was sheer madness. That, Andrew knew with every fiber of his being. Yet he could no more stop the action from occurring than he could stop himself from breathing. He folded her into his arms and kissed those glorious lips, losing himself in the taste of her.

But when her palms rose and pushed against his chest, Andrew let his arms fall to his sides and stepped back.

In the brilliant light from the overhead sun, her lips looked as plump and full as a fresh strawberry. Her cheeks had turned a dusty shade of pink and her eyes were large and mysterious. “We agreed not to do this.”