Page 23 of Doctorshipped
“Um. About that.”
I stare at him.
“I may come across …”
“Direct and unpolished,” he says at the same time as I say, “Rude?”
“Or rude, I guess. On occasion. I don’t mean to be. Anyway, a person has a right to a cobbled life. It’s very …” He struggles to find the words and I let him squirm. I’d cross my arms and tap my foot if I weren’t still bearing the box of muffins in one hand.
He finally says, “... enterprising.”
Then, as if I walked in on him buck naked, he flushes. He quickly shakes his head, turns, and walks toward his office without another word. Over his shoulder he says, “Cinnamon is my favorite,” before he slides the door closed behind him.
“Gah!” I huff out. I stand in the foyer muttering to myself. “Infuriating, confusing, insufferable, frustrating man.”
I look up to see Fiona at the top of the stairs studying me. She has a wry grin on her face as though I amuse her. Thankfully, she’s not upset by my outburst over her father. I feel the blush creep up my neck. I’ve never blushed so much in my life before meeting this family.
9
GRANT
This muffin tastes better than I anticipated. It’s moist and flavorful and the crumb topping isn’t overly sweet, but it sits on the muffin just right, retaining its crunch and giving that extra punch of flavor and contrasting texture.
Of course Jayme bakes—and bakes my favorite muffins to perfection. As if I needed more reasons to ponder her. For a moment on the porch, I thought she was going to throw the box of muffins at my head. I wouldn’t blame her.
Though, I don’t know why everyone insists I be cheery all the time. A man should be allowed to be what he is. You don’t see me walking around asking everyone to be more glum and serious.
Fiona comes skipping into my office. I have the doors open since we’re the only two in the home now. Jayme left a few hours ago. I stayed sequestered in my office while she was here, listening as their mingled laughter and chatting filtered through to me.
Did I smile? I did.
I brought Fiona here to Bordeaux so she could have good women in her life. I have to admit Jayme is a good woman. As odd as she is, and as unexpected, she’s definitely good.
“Daddy! Did you eat one of those muffins, the one I brought you?”
Yes. Jayme sent the muffin by way of my daughter. I can’t blame her. I’ve given her no reason to want to see me more than necessary.
“I did.”
“Wasn’t it the most scrumptious thing ever?”
“It was good.”
“Good? It was amazing! And you know what?”
“I know you’ll be telling me what.”
“Jayme’s going to teach me how to bake those. She said I can come to her house or she’ll come here and we can have a baking day if I do my tutoring assignments this week.”
“She said that, did she?”
“Yes, and she’s also going to bring me to the flower mart where she works and let me pick from the cast-offs to make an arrangement for the dining table. Cast-offs are the flowers they don’t use. Those flowers would just go in the trash. Isn’t that a shame? Jayme’s the best!”
“I’m glad you like her.”
“Do you like her?”
“She seems like an adequate tutor.”
