The Nature of Love (Love in the Spotlight #3)

Chapter 7

Seven

Why couldn’t I drag myself out of my car and hand Charlie over to Chris?

Maybe the idea that his coworkers would think there was more to our relationship than what was actually there kept me in the comfort of my own car? (That’s friendship, by the way. Nothing else. Nothing more.) I would keep repeating that until my heart stopped having these ridiculous palpitations— not romantic flutters—that started every time I saw Chris.

But in order to hand over Charlie, I had to walk into Gamble on Nature. Ugh. Even the name of his business was as charming and cute as the man himself.

“I can do this. He’s just a man. Nothing special about him.”

Except I really loved his blue eyes. The way they crinkled when he laughed. And, oh, his laugh. The sound draped over me like a warm blanket, inviting me to burrow deeper. Not to mention he always put me at ease. There was no one on earth who made me feel so comfortable, except for my sister. To find that same quality in another person, a man at that, floored me.

I groaned. “You’re pathetic. You’re just friends. That’s what he wants. That’s what you want. That’s what you have time for.”

Charlie whined. I wasn’t sure if he was agreeing about my pathetic nature or the word-hemorrhage falling from my mouth.

“You’ll be my little spy, right, Charlie?”

He stared at me.

“What? We need more intel on Chris. How is he friends with an actor and a Derby-winning trainer?” Who I was ninety-nine percent certain I’d operated on earlier in the year.

Charlie stared.

“Right, you can’t talk. Still.” Was there a way to sneak a video cam on his collar? Surely there was a way Charlie could let me know if Chris was genuinely a good guy.

I hoped he was. He seemed to be. But what did I know? My knowledge of men was purely anatomical in nature. I’d never dated. Never had one befriend me before. The whole thing was surreal and kept me up late at night wondering what was going on. People weren’t dependable. The hard knocks of life had taught me that. But part of me wanted to believe Chris was who he said he was.

Gathering up my courage, I grabbed the kennel and slid out of my car. Chris hadn’t told me to bring it—he probably had a bunch in his office—but all the pet forums I’d poured over convinced me I couldn’t just hold Charlie in my lap while driving and hope for the best. If I did and I got in a car accident, Charlie’s chances of survival lessened. Since I’d already saved him once, I really wanted to prevent anything bad from happening to him again.

Sometimes I wished I believed in prayer and a God who listened. I could use the help right about now. But the past had shown me there was no God looking out for me, let alone listening to any prayers. It was up to me to practice my deep breathing and hope that I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone but the man I came here for. You got this.

I pushed the double door, and my sure steps immediately faltered. The place smelled like a menagerie of animals, and that was not a pleasant scent. I ventured farther, and a scuffle of noise down one of the halls drew my attention. Chris and his colleagues had created a makeshift Soul Train line.

Laughter bubbled up from within me and spilled out as Chris did the Running Man. He must have heard my giggles, because he stopped and stared right at me. I bit my lip trying to contain my amusement, but instead of being embarrassed, he winked. Winked!

He started doing the Cabbage Patch and ended with the Hammer dance. I was in tears by the time the last strands of the song played over the speakers. When was the last time I’d laughed so hard? Never, girl. Never.

“All right, all right. Get back to work.” Chris turned off the music and headed my way. “Morning.” His voice sounded husky from exertion.

“Good morning.” I tilted my head. “Do that often?”

“Every Monday. They need a reason not to dread the week.”

“I thought you guys loved what you do?”

He smirked. “Of course we do, but it’s still a Monday.”

That, I could understand. Mondays were my fill-out-all-the-paperwork and back-to-back-appointments days. How the hospital expected me to get my paperwork finished in the midst of endless meetings, which created more paperwork, was beyond me. Not to mention other doctors occasionally liked to throw an emergency consultation my way. So yeah, I knew exactly what he meant about loving your job in the context of Mondays.

“I don’t think I can pull off a Soul Train line at work, but maybe I can change my playlist.” My coworkers would probably appreciate a mix-up in my constant classical choices.

“Do you listen to Spotify? If so, I can send you my Monday list. It’s full of late ’80s and ’90s throwbacks.”

“It’s my most-used app.” Why did my cheeks feel so heated?

Was it the way his attention focused solely on me? His kindness? Or perhaps just those good looks?

“Not Facebook?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Social media isn’t my thing.”

“Well, you have to at least get a YouTube account. How else can you subscribe to our videos?” He winked.

Again.

I wanted to clutch my heart, but the palpitations were a normal reaction. I knew that, but my heart acted like this was new information. Good thing a person couldn’t go into shock from an influx of serotonin.

Pay attention to the conversation. You two are talking about YouTube. Right.

“I’ve seen your videos. I particularly like your blooper reels.” I grinned, remembering the last one I watched.

Chris groaned. “Those seem to be everyone’s favorite.”

“Keep it up.” I held out the kennel with Charlie inside. “Here’s my new friend.”

“Morning, Charlie.” Chris peered into the kennel, and Charlie’s nose poked through the grate. “We’re going to have fun. Wait until you meet Kimble.”

“Oh brother,” I murmured.

Chris chuckled. “Don’t worry, Dr. Kennedy. When you come pick Charlie back up, I’ll be sure to introduce you.”

“I can’t wait,” I drolled.

“You’ll love him.”

Remembering Chris dealt with animals all day should pull some of the shine off him, but that only emphasized his goodness. Someone who cared about the planet, animals, and other conservation efforts was a man worth knowing.

Yeah, as a friend . Get it together, girl.

I stepped back. “I’m going to go. Don’t want to be late.” At this point, was Operation Stay Away still in play?

“Have a good day.”

“Mm-hmm. You do the same.” I whirled around and raced toward the exit.

You do the same? What kind of response is that, Erykah Kennedy?

A normal one, I hoped. Yet dropping off my puppy and having a man tell me to have a good day was not my norm. Chris Gamble needed to come with a warning label because every time I neared him, my stomach quivered, and my hormones spiked above functional levels.

I pulled into my assigned hospital parking spot, then walked down the long hall toward my office. I’d already taken a glimpse at today’s schedule before leaving my condo this morning in preparation. Keeping the day’s events in the forefront of my mind—which meant taking multiple looks at my calendar throughout the day—made the day run smoother. I had about a half hour to answer emails and start on paperwork before my first appointment.

By lunch my stomach growled fiercely, and the edges of irritability pressed in. I left the patient room, ducking my head to avoid talking to other staff in the hall, then made my escape into my office. I leaned against the door, inhaling for a count of four and exhaling for a count of six. The deep breathing continued until my head cleared and my pulse beat at a steady pace. Talking to patients wasn’t difficult because it was all medical procedure, but I didn’t want to be pulled into gossip by the staff.

I had just taken out my insulated lunchbox from the bottom drawer when my phone chimed. A video message from Chris appeared, and I watched enraptured as he attempted to teach Charlie how to sit. No matter how many times he repeated the word and pushed Charlie’s rump down, the puppy refused to cooperate. Instead, he insisted on sniffing Chris’s hand.

Erykah

Did you give him the treat?

Chris

No! Well, yeah. He finally sat after the twentieth try.

Erykah

You were counting?

Chris

No, but Cameron was.

I chuckled. Chris seemed like he had a good group of people around him. More than that, they actually seemed to like one another.

My mind turned to my colleagues. They were the people I worked with closely—sometimes hours on end—but I wouldn’t call them friends or even anything more than acquaintances. How sad was that?

Degrees from prestigious universities hung on my office walls alongside accolades and awards I’d received in the medical field. But the only two personal pictures I owned featured me and my sister in one and her and her family in the other. I picked up my cell, feeling the need to talk to Ellynn.

Erykah

How are you? How are the kiddos?

Ellynn

I’m exhausted. I need a break from the crying and Cheyenne’s whining.

I chuckled. Cheyenne wanted everyone’s attention on her all the time and whined when she didn’t get what she wanted.

Erykah

Maybe I can FaceTime you later and occupy Cheyenne for a bit.

Ellynn

I would love that. I’d also love to go out with Asher again. I miss date nights.

Erykah

Call your babysitter.

My newest niece had been born in March. A seven-month-old could be entrusted to a babysitter, right?

Then again, what did I know? I had no children. Back in my residency days, I’d delivered a few babies, but that was so long ago I wouldn’t feel comfortable performing a delivery today. Not to mention, all I’d done was hand off the baby to the nurses, who’d done the rest of the work.

Ellynn

Maybe. But if you call tonight, we’d love to see your face.

I stared in shock at the teardrop that plinked against the screen on my phone. Wiping my hand across my face, I was surprised to discover I was legit crying. I thought for a moment, trying to figure out what was wrong. Then it hit me.

I was lonely and homesick. It had been so long since I’d had that feeling. But how did you explain to your emotions that you had no home to return to? Ellynn had been my home growing up, but now she had her own family, and I was all alone.

You’ve been alone for decades. Now’s not the time to cry.

But seeing how Chris interacted with those around him, knowing how he had close friends, it seemed to break something in me. Chris’s presence showed me what I’d been missing, a home, a community. Apparently, my body wanted to commiserate the sad state of my relationships, or rather lack thereof.

Chalk it up to perimenopause. All women in their forties cry excessively.

That would be my story, and I’d stick to it.

I slid my phone into my lab coat and finished my lunch. All too soon I’d be back in the fray of surgery consults and post-op follow-ups.

After packing my food containers back into my lunchbox, I grabbed a mint and the hospital iPad. There were more patients to see before I could pick up Charlie and resume my solitary life. You have Charlie now, so not completely solitary.

My heart warmed. I’d be able to go home to a dog tonight and talk to Ellynn and the girls through video chat. I wasn’t completely alone, no matter how my thoughts wanted me to believe otherwise. Just because I didn’t do a Soul Train line with colleagues didn’t make Chris’s world better than mine. I’d done my job by my sister, and now I was living how I wanted, sort of.

A home was what I made of it, and adding a pet would surely chase some of the blues away. I just had to remind myself of that until I could see my pup once more. Until then, it was time to be the doctor the hospital staff expected and the patients needed.