Make Me a Match. Alice Sharpe
eyes twinkled. “You bet.”
“It’ll be good to sit down in your own house with a fat cigar and a stiff drink, right?” Was that too obvious a prying question?
Apparently not. “Never have smoked though I do enjoy the occasional glass of red wine,” he said, settling comfortably against his pillows. “They say it keeps you young.”
“Looks as though it’s working,” she said with a grin.
He laughed. He had a nice laugh. “Now, what’s a pretty girl like you doing flirting with an old goat like me?”
She laughed, too. She liked this guy. Hope began to flutter in her chest, and it wasn’t just selfish hope anymore. Her mother deserved happiness, deserved to be with someone ten years older and wiser than she.
Lora said, “Do you live with your sister?”
“Oh, no,” he said amiably. “Jess is married and has her own home. No, since my wife died and our two sons moved to the east coast, I live alone.”
Lora gestured at his bandaged foot, which lay outside the covers. “How are you going to handle getting around by yourself?”
“Crutches.”
“They can be difficult to get the hang of.”
“Well, Jess will come by during the day and I’ll be okay at night.”
Genuinely concerned, she wrinkled her brow. “You’ll be all alone? What if there’s a fire? How will you manage by yourself? You should hire someone to stay with you. It’s dangerous to be alone.”
“Sounds as if you’re in cahoots with my doctor and my sister, young lady.”
“My name is Lora Gifford,” she said, shifting the arrangement to her left arm and offering her right hand. She’d taken an immediate liking to this man and had big plans for his future that required him getting back on his feet ASAP. Her mother loved to dance.
He shook her hand. “Well, Lora, it’s really no big deal. I don’t mind being by myself.”
No one to stay the night meant no girlfriend, right?
Let’s see, she’d covered obvious bad habits, availability, appearance and charm. Was there anything else?
He looked from her to the card that had come with the flowers and back again. “Lora Gifford? Are you George Gifford’s daughter?”
“You know my dad?”
“I used to fish with him years ago, back when my boys were just kids. He owned the Lora Dunes flower shop which I just realized he must have named after you.”
“Me and the beach.”
“I’ll be. I remember seeing you with your mother a couple of times. You were four or five years old. Your mother was a beauty. Jet black hair, emerald eyes…you look just like her.”
“She’s still beautiful,” Lora said fondly, wishing she did look like her mother, knowing she’d inherited her grandmother’s demure stature and her father’s nose. “She and dad are divorced now, but Mom’s doing great.”
“Well, I’ll be,” he mused, his eyes thoughtful. “Where is your dad?”
“Down in San Diego, fishing his heart out.”
“I’m sorry about him and your mother.”
Lora said, “It’s okay. They’re both happier now.”
“And how about you? Married? Kids?”
“No, neither.”
“I didn’t think so, but so many young women keep their maiden name now and don’t wear rings, you just never know.”
While Dr. Reed seemed to study Lora, she chewed on her lip. Was it really possible this man was as decent as he seemed to be? Appearances could be so deceiving, and first impressions were worthless in the long haul. Besides, it wasn’t as though she had a good track record with men, young or old or in-between. No way was she going to jeopardize her mother’s out-of-practice heart on a guy whose pleasant manners hid the soul of a cad. She needed more information.…
She said, “Dr. Reed, I have an idea. Sometimes I hire out for odd jobs. You know, to make ends meet. I could come to your house after work. At least there’d be someone there at night in case a fire started or…something.”
He looked quite startled by the abruptness of her offer. He wasn’t the only startled one. What had she just done? She thought of her mother, she thought of Gram, truth be known, she thought of their next batch of erstwhile bachelors.
“I really am quite capable,” she said firmly.
“I don’t doubt it for a moment,” he said.
“And I’m neat as a pin.”
A smile curved his lips. Lora could sense him considering her suggestion.
“I go to bed early,” Dr. Reed said. “It would be boring for you.”
“Mom says only boring people get bored,” she said, hoping to impress him with her mother’s pithy insights. “I can provide references—”
“Not necessary,” he said with a wave of his hand.
“What’s not necessary?” a voice said from the doorway.
Lora recognized the voice and turned in time to find Jon Woods striding across the linoleum. He blinked rapidly when he saw her face.
He wasn’t the only one blinking. Out of his office, with a tailored jacket thrown over his form-fitting black shirt and no stethoscope looped around his neck, he looked suave, sophisticated and harder than ever to resist.
Why had she bunched her hair into a ponytail before coming to the hospital? Why hadn’t she taken off the lousy green sweater and replaced it with—anything else!
This yin and yang of her current position concerning men was disconcerting. Wanting and rejecting. Thinking maybe and then slamming the door.
Staring into her eyes, he said, “This is a coincidence, isn’t it? I didn’t expect to see you here.”
His gaze made her damn near breathless but his arrival embarrassed the heck out of her. She’d not expected to see him again either, especially in the hospital room of a man she’d admitted she’d never met. She glanced at her watch and saw that it was the lunch hour—great planning on her part. This could get dicey. “I’m delivering flowers,” she said.
“You two know each other?” Dr. Reed asked pleasantly.
Jon released Lora from his gaze. “We met today when she brought her cat in for a checkup. She was disappointed when I showed up instead of you, Victor.”
Jon’s remark was met with a wince from Lora and raised eyebrows from Dr. Reed who said, “I don’t believe you’ve ever been to the clinic before, have you Lora? Don’t tell me my memory is that bad.”
Hadn’t her mother told her to never lie? She’d used a lifetime’s quota that day and now she was going to pay for it. Or maybe not. Looking at Dr. Reed, she said, “I heard all about you from my friend, Peg Ho. You’re Cerise’s vet.” This was the truth and Lora felt suitably virtuous.
Dr. Reed chuckled. “Peg’s Irish Setter is a dynamo.”
Jon said, “If you enjoy animals with personalities, wait until you meet Lora’s cat.”
“Boggle tends to be a little antisocial,” Lora said and added, “In fact, I’m thinking of letting my neighbor have him. She adores cats.” Anxious to get the topic of conversation off of her pretend pet, she said, “I’m glad we ran into each other, Dr. Woods. I wanted to thank you for not charging me to examine Boggle.”
“I asked you to call me Jon.”