Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
MAGNOLIA
Maybe the extra coat of mascara I’d put on that morning was for me, maybe it was for Bowen. After all the hurt he’d caused me, I wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole. But you better believe I’d make him wish I would. Every. Single. Day. Until my rotation was over.
I swished my hips a little extra as I walked across the parking lot the next morning, in case he was watching.
But sadly, the only person who enjoyed my runway model strut was Topher.
“Do not give him an opening,” I pep-talked myself.
“Do not, do not, do not.” The problem was that Topher could segue almost anything I said into a reason to ask me out.
He stood in the staff entrance doorway, sneakers braced against the frame, arms crossed like he was guarding the gates of heaven instead of a family practice in small-town Virginia.
His scrubs were wrinkled, his badge crooked, and he wore that smug grin that said he thought he was God’s gift to women. “Well, if it isn’t the early bird.”
“Mind letting me by?” I asked.
He pretended not to hear. His eyes dropped down to my scrub top and back up. “You look nice. Did you do something different with your hair?”
“Nope. Didn’t even wash it today.” I stepped right, trying to slip past.
He moved that direction, blocking my way. “It’s something about your eyes, right?”
I wasn’t admitting my additional swipe of mascara. Not to him. Or anyone, for that matter. “I got a good night’s sleep. That’s all.”
He perked up, which meant I’d accidentally handed him the invitation he’d been hoping for. “We should celebrate that. How about lunch today, on me? Lucy’s has a special on lasagna.” He winked. “I bet I could get my dad to give us an extra few minutes.”
“No thanks,” I said cheerily. “I have Celiac disease, so Lucy’s is a no-go.”
He scowled. “Friday, when I asked you to the Tastee Freeze, you said you were lactose intolerant. And Thursday, when I suggested we head to Honeyville for barbecue, you told me you were a vegetarian.” His eyes flashed for just a second before he rolled his shoulders back, reinstating his cocky grin. “I’m on to you, Margaret.”
“Not sure what you’re referring to. I have a lot of food allergies,” I said with mock misery. “Sucks to be me.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he purred, trying to sound husky. All it made me want to do was douse myself in gasoline and light a very large match.
“I assure you I don’t,” I clipped.
His gaze dropped to my mouth. “When a girl keeps saying no, she really means—”
“No,” Bowen boomed, suddenly behind me, making an unbidden shiver dance up my spine. “When a girl keeps saying no, you respect that she means it.”
I turned to see him holding his iPad and a large Yeti, probably filled with water, knowing him, glowering at the human barricade blocking our way. My breath snagged in my throat. Ho-ly…
Who knew a basic white slim fit tee, dark jeans, and work boots could be so hot?
You are so weak.
Excuse me for forgetting to engage my You Will Not Fall For Bowen No Matter How Good He Looks in a Pair of Jeans shield.
I turned it on and locked my heart down for the day.
“Morning, Magnolia.” Bowen’s gray eyes sparkled at me. Too bad for him, my shields were now fully operational—and unbreachable.
“Morning,” I said. “How are the stitches holding?”
“Perfectly.” He flipped his palm up for me to see and flashed a dazzling grin.
And that’s all it took. Shields obliterated, my heart executed a full backflip inside my chest. Bad heart. Bad, bad heart! “Fantastic,” I said flatly, accompanied by a curt nod. I needed through this door. Now!
“I thought it was Margaret,” Topher whined, still blocking the way. “You told me it was Margaret.”
I exhaled loudly. “No, you said it was Margaret. I just didn’t care enough to correct you.”
Bowen snorted and covered it with a cough.
“Wait.” Topher’s arms finally dropped. “You two are on speaking terms?” His voice cracked like he knew he was no competition for Bowen. “I thought after the race…”
I ducked past him, cheeks hot, and hurried down the hall. I heard both of them follow.
“You thought wrong,” Bowen said confidently, behind me. “But before you get any ideas, we’re just friends.”
That’s right, Magnolia. Just. Friends. No. Not Magnolia! Maggie. And don’t you forget it, MAGGIE. I would not let Bowen’s proclivity for using my full name worm its way into my heart. Not this time.
“Very good friends,” Bowen finished, a threat in his tone.
Do not—I repeat—do NOT dissect that!
I let myself soften long enough to glance over my shoulder and give Bowen a brief smile. It was common courtesy to show gratitude for a well-placed half-truth. Fine. It was a complete lie. We couldn’t have been further from ‘very good friends’ if we tried.
“Have a nice day, Magnolia.”
I watched him saunter toward exam room three. The way his shoulder muscles moved under that shirt…oh my goodness. “You too,” I whimpered.
My shields were obviously busted!
“Very good friends?” Topher asked, following me past the charting area and to the front desk. “What does that mean?”
“Out!” Marissa, the receptionist, shooed Topher back.
Topher gestured at me. “But Magnolia and I were in the middle of a conversation.”
“You heard the woman. Goodbye, Topher,” I sang.
“Fine.” His eyes danced down my body and back up again. “But we’re not done here.” He turned and huffed away.
Marissa and I shared a look.
Knowing Bowen was in the building put me on high alert.
Every time I heard him say something to one of his men off in the distance, my lips twitched, desperate to smile.
But I wouldn’t let myself, even if I loved his voice.
Which I did. Dang it. But I could not feel anything warm, fuzzy, or content toward him.
I’d already spent two years clawing my way out of the crater he left in me.
One more Bowen Dupree heartbreak would finish me off for good.