Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Willa
T he office, thankfully, closed at one on Saturdays, meaning I could relax a little this evening. At some point, when I’d hired more staff, I would take Saturdays off altogether.
“Apparently norovirus has hit the preschool,” Dawn declared, tossing her latex gloves into the trash can. “I love winter.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. Late January was peak time for the cold and the flu in Maine, and generally, toddlers were ground zero for all infections.
“In fairness,” I quipped, “I saw several ear infections today too.”
Dawn grabbed her coat and bag and gave me a salute. “See you Monday, boss.”
After she’d disappeared, I sat back in my chair and breathed, eyes closed, thinking about how things had evolved around here. This office was running smoothly, and we were working as a team. Even Walters was noticing the positive changes I’d put in place.
Little did he know I had grander plans.
It would take time, but I could do so much more for the people of Lovewell. I hadn’t become a doctor to get rich, and I’d rather make less money and give myself and my patients better quality of life. So I was cooking up plans and had been in touch with some of my mentors from my residency days.
I never could have done this much without Cole’s encouragement. He patiently listened to all my complaints about the state of rural healthcare and asked helpful questions. His curiosity about my career was honestly flattering. He wasn’t only interested in the medical stuff, but the how and why behind it all. I was used to being taken seriously at work, but never in my personal life. Not until Cole. My romantic entanglements had mostly been hookups or friends-with-benefits arrangements, and those guys hadn’t been super interested in my opinions.
They hadn’t been super interested in my orgasms either, I was now realizing.
And Cole could not be more different in either aspect. He was very interested.
My face was heated as I climbed out of the car, since I’d spent the drive home thinking about him and what we’d gotten up to last night.
Inside, I threw a load of laundry into the washer, and when I emptied my lunch bag, I noticed that the dishwasher had already been emptied, so I rinsed the containers and put them in. Then I headed to my room to put on my yoga clothes, still smiling about Cole and how far we’d come since that wild night in Vegas.
Despite the way I floated an inch off the ground while daydreaming, one tiny doubt still niggled in the back of my mind.
What would happen in the future?
We’d been thrust into this arrangement, and though something real had grown from it, we’d only agreed to stay married for six months. Could this last in the long term? Was Cole even interested in trying? I was tied to this town and to my job, but more than once, he’d talked about moving and starting over. We were halfway into this marriage, but that small doubt surfaced every day. It was only a faint whisper, but it was enough to make my heart sink.
For now, I pushed my doubts away and focused on my yoga mat. I’d been craving a deep stretch all day and loved the way it made me feel.
My YouTube yoga class was wrapping up when he came home, bearing flowers and a smile.
I stood, sweaty and disheveled, but my state didn’t stop him from pulling me in for a kiss.
“I brought you these.” He thrust a large, colorful bouquet at me.
Grinning, I brought them to my nose and inhaled.
“Where did you get these?” I took another whiff. “These are not from the gas station.”
“I have connections,” he said with a smirk. “And I would never buy my wife gas station flowers.”
I pulled him down and kissed him again.
“Thank you. No guy’s ever bought flowers for me before.”
He stiffened, a glower overtaking him. “You can’t be serious.”
I shrugged. We’d talked through my lack of serious relationships, but I’d never brought up this detail. Why would I? It hadn’t bothered me very much.
He shook his head as though he could not comprehend how I could be treated so egregiously. “Anyway,” he said with a heavy breath tout. “I brought you the flowers because I was hoping to take you out tonight.”
My heart flipped. “Out?”
“Yes, wifey. On a date.”
“We’re married. You don’t need to take me on dates. Also, we’re sleeping together.”
He rolled his eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. “Willa, I want to take my girl out and show her off. It’s nothing fancy. Jude’s band is playing at the Moose again, and I want to go support him. He mentioned he may play one of the songs he’s written. So I thought we could go together, make a night of it.”
I wrapped my arms around him and put my head on his chest. “I’d be happy to make a night of it.”
The big boyish grin he gave me made my heart clench. Being the recipient of this smile was an honor. “You could wear something sexy. Maybe that green dress. You know, the one you wore to our wedding.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“That dress is way too fancy for the Moose. I normally wear jeans.”
“Not tonight. I’ll dress up too. I’ll wear a suit.”
“You can’t wear a suit to the Moose. You’ll be laughed out of Lovewell.”
He put his hand over his heart. “I don’t care. I wanna look good for my lady.”
I scoffed, dismissive, and turned so I could change. Into jeans.
“There may be another reason.” He grasped my wrist gently, stopping me.
I spun, perking up. “What?”
He took a big breath, his dark eyes flashing with excitement.
“Okay, here goes. I met with the dean of the public policy school at UMaine last week. And I’m applying to the public administration program.”
A zap of pride coursed through me. “That’s wonderful. Are you excited?”
“Terrified,” he confessed, his shoulders lowering. “The plan is for me to audit a few classes this spring to get myself started. Then I’ll do some intensive summer courses. They have a lot of nontraditional students, and the dean thought I could be an asset to the program.”
This felt like a big step forward. He’d been stuck for so long.
“That’s so fantastic,” I said, still proud and elated for him. Though the fears I’d pushed away earlier surfaced too. And…
“Is this what you want?”
I’d given him those brochures for Christmas and talked up the program. I hoped I hadn’t pressured him or made him feel inadequate.
“Because you’re amazing with or without a degree.”
He dipped his chin. “This is what I want. I’ve been keeping a journal—my therapist’s recommendation—of things that inspire me, make me proud, or excite me. And besides you, one of the things I’m passionate about is this town. I like our rural way of life. I love our traditions and our history, and I’d love to develop the kind of skills that would allow me to help make it even better.”
His words hit me hard. He was always so thoughtful. His ideas were so much deeper than anyone realized. And he put me in the same category as his life goals?
“Watching you move throughout the world has inspired me. You’re confident yet humble. You possess skills that save lives, but you always make time for others. And you’ve shown me that it’s possible for a person to carve a path for themselves that works. You can honor who you are and what you want and still be of service. You are my inspiration. My everything.”
Choking back tears, I stepped forward and pulled him down for a kiss. This man. Every single day, he surprised me.
He broke the kiss and gave me a hard slap on the ass. “Now go shower and get dolled up. I’m taking my lady out tonight.”
With a whole lot of swagger, he headed toward the bathroom.
“You don’t need to work that hard. I’m already sleeping with you,” I said as he went into his room.
“That’s where you’re wrong, wifey. I gotta work extra hard to keep you.”
I rarely came to the Moose. Mainly because I’d see a lot of my patients, and by the end of the night, I’d be looking at people’s moles or hearing about their constipation issues.
I didn’t want to practice medicine during my precious off time. Really, all I wanted was to be home, naked, wrapped around my husband.
This new phase of our relationship had been the highlight of my life so far. Touching him whenever I wanted to. Kissing him. Waking up next to him stretched out across my bed.
Even tripping over his massive shoes made me smile.
I was not wearing my wedding dress, but I had put on a slinky black cocktail dress. It hugged my curves and showed only a tasteful bit of cleavage. Paired with thick black tights and booties, it was mostly winter-weather appropriate. Cole had whistled when I’d come out into the living room. Then he’d immediately grabbed my ass, so I was calling it a success.
But my husband had truly stepped it up. He’d donned a pair of gorgeous charcoal dress pants, a crisp white shirt, and a vest. A motherfucking vest .
I swore that vest, which matched the soft Italian wool pants, was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. It had made me want to drop to my knees right then and there.
Even now, I kept sneaking glances at him. It was disorienting how good he looked. I was hot and bothered by the time we walked into the bar, and that was an achievement, as it was twelve degrees out.
Only in places like rural Maine would the Moose and other establishments have a special spot for snowmobile parking in the winter. Mainers did not get intimidated by snow. Quite the opposite, in fact. They usually relished the chance to get out and make Mother Nature their bitch.
The moment we stepped into the warmth, Cole wrapped an arm around me. I’d never figured him for the possessive type, and I couldn’t remember a single time I saw him hanging all over Lila, but he’d hear no complaints from me. Since we’d started sleeping together, he’d let his inner caveman out, and I liked it.
There was a group in the corner by the dartboards, and by the look of them—the height, the flannel, and the beards—it was his family.
Finn, who had his sandy brown hair pulled into a man bun, was gesturing with his pint glass as he turned to greet us.
And he was wearing a baby.
“Are you wearing a suit to a bar?” Finn guffawed.
“Did you bring your baby to a bar?” Cole countered.
“This is a family dining establishment,” Finn corrected. “And Adele is at girls’ night with her friends, so Thor and I decided to come out and see Uncle Jude. Plus, I packed protection.”
He pointed to the mini noise-canceling headphones that Thor was sporting.
For eight months old, the little guy was massive. Unable to help myself, I stepped up close and squeezed one of his chunky denim-clad thighs. He looked exactly like Finn, except toothless, and he couldn’t quite rock the man bun yet. I had a feeling he’d be a lot of trouble when he grew up.
“Ah, Dr. Willa is here,” Gus added, leaning forward to kiss me on the cheek. “Which is good, because Chloe keeps dancing in her heels, even though I told her not to.”
“She’s off the clock,” Cole gritted out, pulling me into his side.
I smiled down at the chubby baby. Gah, he was damn cute. He gave me a toothy grin, happy to look around at all the goings-on around him.
Finn, a big Viking with a baby on his chest, was getting a lot of attention. Every uterus in a five-mile radius was staring at him. But I was far more enamored with my husband.
And the vest.
Shit, would he leave it on later? Would it be weird of me to ask?
“It’s fine,” I said, patting Cole’s arm. “Gus, you can’t dictate your wife’s footwear choices.”
With a huff, he lowered his head and nodded.
“You know Adele has been working hard to sleep train,” I said to Finn, giving him my best serious doctor face. “So leave at a reasonable hour.”
“Yes, Doc,” he said, also hanging his head.
Before I could get caught up in more doctorly lectures, Cole steered me toward the stage, giving them both the finger.
“Your suit is ridiculous,” Gus shouted as we walked past.
“It’s a vest,” Cole shouted back. “And I don’t give a shit what you think. I like to get dressed up for my wife.” That admission made a few heads turn.
My face heated at the attention. My brain wasn’t quite making the connection that I was the wife being publicly discussed. In fact, my brain had not been functioning optimally at all tonight. I blamed the vest and lots of hormones. I was a doctor, after all. I had earned the right to blame science.
The band was good. I’d known several of these folks for most of my life, but in an environment like this, when the music brought them to life, it was like seeing them through a new lens.
Jude Hebert was quiet and withdrawn, the kind of guy who nodded when you said hello. Whether that was a product of his childhood, when Noah—his more boisterous twin, usually spoke for him—or what necessitated Noah’s input in the first place, I wasn’t sure.
So watching Jude play guitar and sing backup while keeping time was like watching him transform into a totally different person.
He moved as he played, swaying, his fingers gracefully sliding over the fretboard of his guitar.
“Your brother is talented.”
Cole hummed, the sound rumbling through me. “Debbie begged him to think about music school, but he went to work for the timber company instead.”
“It’s incredible to watch him on stage.”
Cole laughed. “Just wait until they take a break. He’ll flip the switch and be back to his normal self. Mostly silent, and when he does speak, it’s in sarcasm only. He loves writing and playing music. The guitar changes him.”
He wrapped his arms around me from behind as we gently swayed to the music. It felt so good to be enveloped like this, wrapped up in the safety of his arms in public. To feel his hot breath when he leaned down to whisper in my ear. Even though we stood out in our fancy clothes, being here with him was like a dream.
It was only the Moose, a place where people came for waffle fries and draft beers after a long week at work. A place I’d been hundreds of times throughout my life.
But being here with Cole made the experience almost magical. Listening to a great band while a hot guy pawed at me easily topped the list of my top teenage fantasies.
When the band took a break, we headed to the bar for another round of waters. Cole kept me close, always touching my body.
“Have you ever thought that maybe when you’re doing the thing you love the most, the thing you were made for, that you do become different? A better version of yourself?” he asked, those dark eyes focused only on my face while we waited for Jim, the bartender and owner of the Moose, to bring our bottles of water.
My heart pounded out a rhythm at the intensity with which he watched me. I wanted to grab him by the hair and maul him. I’d never been this girl. I kept my expectations low. I never pushed or acted clingy, and I was grateful for any scraps thrown in my direction.
But standing here with him made me want so much more. He made me feel like I deserved it.
“No, I’ve never thought about that. But I think you’re right. Did you ever feel that way when you were playing?”
“Sometimes. But hockey for me wasn’t about finding my Zen or leaving it all behind. If anything, I carried a lot onto the ice with me. I let my fear, my anxiety, fuel me. Control me. So the stakes felt higher. Even as a kid, it didn’t feel like play. It felt like work.”
I stroked his hand, intertwining our fingers. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “Don’t be. My experience has made me love coaching. The memories encourage me to make it fun. I want these kids to fall in love with hockey and being part of a team.”
It was pointless even trying to fight what I felt for him anymore. How could I not fall in love with him when he was being so introspective and self-aware?
“You’re doing a great job,” I said. “Those girls love you. And look at it like a do-over. You are the coach you wish you’d had. The coach who lets the kids be kids.”
He smiled. “Thank you for saying that. It means a lot.”
For a moment, we were locked in place, the crowded, noisy bar falling silent. I studied him—the scruffy jaw, the intense dark eyes, and that damn vest—and realized that I was even more obsessed with the man beneath the gorgeous fa?ade. The sweet, earnest man who woke up every morning wanting to be better.
We could have stood there all night, never breaking eye contact. Except I was itching to head to the car and tear his clothes off.
Eventually, the spell was broken by a feminine voice. “Cole. Great to see you.”
I blinked back to the moment, and when I opened my eyes, I found myself staring at a tall, athletic-looking woman who was rocking trendy baggy boyfriend jeans and a crop top like she’d stepped off the pages of Teen Vogue .
And she was throwing her arms around my husband.
Hugging him.
And lingering.
My stomach clenched. Why was she touching him? Even after he stepped out of her embrace, she kept her hand on his arm.
I blinked rapidly, unsure of how to proceed.
“Aspen, hi. What are you doing in Lovewell?”
She nodded at the stage. “My friend Lola is on the drums.”
I followed her line of sight to the small, angry-looking woman sitting behind the drum kit. Come to think of it, she wasn’t the usual drummer. But Jasper’s band had a rotating cast of musicians who popped in to play when they were in town.
Turning back, I surveyed this stranger, wondering who the fuck she was and whether I could throw her ass out into a snowbank. She was tall, but I’d been working out a lot and was pretty damn strong.
“You never called me.” She grabbed the front of his vest and yanked playfully. “I thought we’d hang out more.” Her tone was teasing, but there was a hint of hurt there too.
Rage ignited in my every cell. She touched the vest . That bitch touched the vest. Who did she think she was?
That’s all it took for me to push closer and put my arm around Cole’s waist.
He draped his arm over my shoulders and drew me in, kissing the top of my head.
“Willa, I want you to meet Aspen Clark. Aspen, this is my wife, Dr. Willa Savard.”
The woman extended a hand and gave me one of the firmest handshakes of my life.
“Congrats,” she said, though her awkward tone belied her well wishes. “I didn’t realize you had a wife.”
“We’re newlyweds.” I rested my head on his chest. I felt like an idiot, pawing him like this, but when the alternative was aggravated battery, it was the safest choice.
“Aspen’s a hockey player,” Cole explained. “We’ve trained together since we were kids. She was on the national team.”
“A few years ago,” she said with a wave. “Damn shoulder. But now I coach.”
The two of them chatted about hockey—I only understood every other word—while I sized her up.
She was pretty. And definitely sporty. From the stud in her nose to her sleek ponytail, she screamed I do push-ups for fun .
As I tuned out of their conversation, my mind wandered. Had they dated? Had sex?
The thought made my breath hitch. He’d said he was single when we were in Vegas.
But a guy like Cole? Well, who knew?
Lila had sworn up and down he’d never cheated. That he’d been a distant asshole. But I’d put a lot of trust in him when we entered into this arrangement.
Though I tried to tamp it down, jealousy ripped through me, making me doubt him. I may have never considered myself a jealous person before, but then again, I’d never been married to a ripped hockey god either.
I was a good girl, a planner. I was careful and precise. But I’d married Cole, become friends with him, developed feelings, and started sleeping with him. All in the span of three months.
What if I’d gone too fast? Ignored red flags? What if this was the kind of woman he wanted? The kind he would go for if he weren’t stuck with me for now?
I hadn’t had a drop of alcohol, but my brain slowed as if I was drunk. I was nauseous and lost.
A whole slew of emotions swirled through me, and I had no idea how to manage them.
Because I’d never let myself experience this kind of connection, this intensity.
Love , my brain screamed.
I was in love with him.
Shit.