Page 39 of The Scars I Bare
“Whoa.” He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Calm down. I just wanted to check in on you as a friend. I’m allowed to do that, right? I’m used to wearing two hats in this town. I’m both doctor and friend. I figured we could do the same. Sometimes, I’m your boss, and other times, I’m just a friend you work with.”
Nodding, I reluctantly agreed, “Okay.”
He smiled, leaning back against the counter, as I watched him shove an entire Danish into his mouth. It was the fourth or fifth maybe. How that man remained trim and athletic, I had no idea. Anyone else, and Molly would have had him looking like Saint Nick by now.
“So, you want to tell me why you hate truck drivers?” he asked.
“I was on the main road, driving here this morning, and when I got to the fork, some jerk did a total one-eighty right in the middle of the road and nearly took me out. The cloud dust he’d created made it all but impossible for me to see, but I did manage to make out the fact that he was driving a huge gray truck.”
“Gray, huh?” His interest seemed piqued.
“Yeah. Luckily, it wasn’t one of those monstrous things with raised wheels, but it was fairly substantial.”
“Hmm. And did this fairly substantial gray truck have a trailer hitch on the—”
“Sorry I’m late!” Dean’s voice announced as he burst through the back door. He was carrying two large travel mugs in the crook of his right arm, using the other to navigate. “I had to double back home for the coffee I’d left on my countertop. Pretty sure I nearly took out a tourist on my way, too.”
My eyes widened as he blew out a heavy breath, placing the coffees on the countertop, only to look up and meet my piercing death stare. When he noticed the freshly brewed coffee already in my hand and the less-than-enthused expression on my face, his mood dropped a notch.
“Oh, I see you guys already have coffee.”
Jake was casually enjoying the coffee his fiancée had made, with an ease about him that said he didn’t have a care in the world. “Yep.” He grinned. “Molly made it. Coffee and pastries, remember?”
The two old friends locked eyes and seemed to have an entire conversation without saying a word. Eyebrows raised, foreheads wrinkled.
In the end, I couldn’t tell what had been said or who had won, if there was indeed a winner or a loser. But, whatever had happened, I was left with one grumpy amputee fisherman while my boss sauntered down the hallway toward his office, chuckling under his breath.
I stared at the two travel mugs, wondering why he was here and why he hadn’t brought three cups.Did he just bring enough for himself and Jake?Letting that thought go as quickly as it’d come, I finished off my cup and pastry, intent on getting on with my day, free from the distraction of Dean.
But I couldn’t.
Not before…
“It wasn’t a tourist,” I said, my arms folded sternly across my chest. I caught him mid-bite, a homemade bear claw shoved in his mouth.
I didn’t even know you could make those things from scratch. I mean, I guessed, when I actually thought about it, sure, everything could be made from scratch. But bear claws? Who took the time to make those?
Obviously, Molly did. No wonder everyone on the island wanted to marry her. Had I known all those years ago when she was visiting Dean in the hospital that she made such a killer bear claw? Well, I might have developed a bit of a girl crush too.
Hell, I still might.
“What?” Dean replied, clearly enjoying the homemade goods from his ex.
“The tourist you nearly took out this morning when you did a one-eighty in the road to retrieve your coffees? It wasn’t a tourist. It was me.”
He eyed the coffees on the counter, and then his gaze traveled up to me, his mouth still chewing the last bit of dough from his bear claw. I watched his jaw work over and over, the rugged definition of it making me blush.
Who knew watching someone eat could be sexy?
“Wouldn’t want to waste it then,” he replied, sliding the travel mug in my direction. “I wasn’t sure how you took it, so it’s black. Jake has all the fixin’s,” he began to explain before he followed up with, “but you already know that.”
I pressed my lips together, feeling awkward in his presence once more. He had brought the extra coffee for me. I didn’t know why, but knowing that made me feel nervous and a whole host of other emotions.
Excited.
Anxious.
Elated.
