Page 8 of Axe-identally Married
I scoffed. “Of course I do.”
He sat up, dark brows tugged down dubiously. He didn’t want my pity. That was clear. But for a man I had pegged as an emotionally constipated jock, Cole Hebert was full of surprises.
“Sure, Willa.”
My hackles rose at his tone. “You don’t know me. I’ve had my share of fuck-ups.”
“Really?Oh no. Did you once get an A-minus on a test?”
He gasped and fanned himself like he was going to faint.
“No.” Shaking his head, he shifted to face me. “No, I’ve got it. You wore white after Labor Day? You once threw away a plastic bottle instead of recycling it?” He was chuckling now.
While I was annoyed that he saw me as an uptight goody-goody, it was nice to see his morose demeanor lighten up a bit.
I rolled my eyes. “You done?”
He laughed. “You know you’re cute when you’re annoyed.”
Cheeks heating, I turned and faced the fountain. The last thing I wanted was to be on the receiving end of any of this man’s flirtation, so why was I overwhelmed with the sudden urge to flirt back?
I didn’t like Cole. Not a bit. He was not a good person. And even if he was, he was my best friend’s ex.
Unsure of how to respond to his comment and seriously considering running back to my hotel room, I kept my mouth shut and my focus set on the lights and water shooting from the ground.
“You gonna tell me why you’re here, staring vacantly at the fountain and not partying with your friends?” he asked, low and deep. “Or are you just gonna sit there while I die of shame beside you?”
Relief washed through me. He was letting me off the hook. I couldn’t begin to articulate all the reasons I was anchored to this bench right now.
Finally looking at him, I lifted my chin. “No one has ever died of shame.”
“You sure about that?” His dark eyes twinkled.
The Hebert blue eyes were famous in our town. Cole was the only brother with brown eyes. And in this light, they weren’t just brown, but gold and a little gray. Beautiful and strangely complex.
“I am a physician,” I said, leaning into an annoyed tone. “I’ve read a lot of medical journals, and I’ve never once come across a peer-reviewed, double-blind, placebo-controlled study of shame-related deaths.”
He threw his hands up and let out a huff, then he nudged me with his giant shoulder. “Fine. You got me there, Doc. So why so glum? I shared my story.”
The spark that ignited inside me when his shoulder bumped mine should have sent me on my way. I should have been hightailing it back to my room so I could read and get a good night’s sleep. Instead, I opened my mouth and let my honest thoughts spill out. Must have been the exhaustion. Or maybe the alcohol my friends had been forcing on me since I arrived.
“Just trying to reset. It’s been a rough few months.”
Cole’s lips turned down. “I’m sorry about your dad. He’s been my doctor since birth, and he’s always been kind to me. He saw me a lot as a kid. I was always dealing with broken bones and various childhood injuries from trying to keep up with my brothers.”
My heart clenched. My dad was one in a million. The town was filled with stories like Cole’s. “Thank you.”
“How’s he doing?”
“Better.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “A lot better. He and my mom are headed to a rehab facility in Portland after Christmas. He’ll get intensive physical and occupational therapy while he’s there.” Licking my lips, I duckedmy head. “We’re lucky he’s alive, but you know my dad. He wants to come back from this stronger than ever, and regaining what he lost will be hard.”
“I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for him. Is he still struggling?”
I nodded. “Cognitively, he’s great. Just more tired than usual. The big issue is his hands.”
I looked down at my own. No rings, short nails, sturdy fingers. Doctor’s hands, my father had always said.
“Hands are a big deal to doctors,” I explained. “Not just surgeons. They give us access to our patients, allow us to learn about them and assess symptoms. So to not have his hands…” It was unthinkable. I studied my hands again, my throat tightening as I thought about my dad. The larger-than-life man who’d kept an entire county healthy and never missed a piano recital or an opportunity to help me with my math homework.
