Chapter 7 #2
“Yep,” I nod, ignoring his slight frown. “He’s my best friend. And he’s actually the one who found the flyer. Well, his brother is. But Ian encouraged me to come see you in the first place. Aaron doesn’t know I actually went to find you.”
“Huh.”
“So, really, we owe this entire outlandish situation to him.” Looking around my classroom as a slight reprieve from the intense stare of the doctor, I swallow and ask the one question screaming in my mind. “Dr. Rhodes, do you really think this will work?” I mumble.
He laughs, bringing my gaze immediately back to him.
“Not if you don’t start calling me Oliver.
Unless they’ll think it’s some kind of kinky foreplay thing?
” Narrowing my eyes must be enough of an answer, because he clears his throat before continuing, “No, seriously, I think it’s worth a try.
Besides, it doesn’t really sound like your family could get much worse.
At least, from how John talks about them. ”
My head snaps up from my grapes. “Wait, what?”
The man has the nerve to hesitate. “John may have mentioned you two have chatted in the past about the social experiment that is your family.”
“They’re not all bad.” Now, it’s my turn to frown up at the handsome doctor. “I mean, Prescott’s, well, Prescott. Same with Imogene. But they’re both always under a lot of pressure at work,” I amend quickly.
“Which one is the aeronautical engineer?” he asks around a mouthful of sandwich.
“Imogene. And she’s the second oldest after Prescott, who works with my dad at the law firm. Rutherford, Rutherford, MacCallum & de Luksa.”
Swallowing, Rhodes peers around the small space of my cramped classroom. “Do they really call you a glorified babysitter?”
Dry laughter escapes. “Among other things. Chris is the worst, though,” I grimace. “But our feud’s been going on for years.”
“And he was the brother at the bar on Friday? With your sister?”
Taking a swig of hot cocoa from my thermos, I nod. “The one and only.”
“What does he do?” I don’t miss the disdain in his tone, no matter how casual his handsome mask may be.
“He does financial analysis for the Bank of Serenvale Springs. He was really only there Friday night because of Connie. Constance. His twin. She does investment banking and is one hundred percent my favorite sibling. But don’t tell the others!”
Oliver’s eyes soften. “I won’t tell them anything you don’t want me to.”
“Really?” My eyebrows miss the memo about hiding my shock.
“Of course,” he laughs. “You and me? We’re a team, Ms. Rutherford.”
“Wow. I’ve never been on a team before.” Something swells in my chest. Pride. Satisfaction. Heartburn. Who really knows.
“Never?”
“Never ever.”
“You didn’t play any team sports when you were younger?” Oliver doesn’t bother hiding his surprise. “You’re pretty tall. No basketball?”
“Nope. Ira and Lillian were too busy toting around the four other high-achieving Rutherford kids to their many activities. And scholastic events.”
Oliver blinks. “Well, that speaks volumes.”
“What about your family?” I ask. “Oh, and I guess you should call me Callie. Especially since everyone else does. But, I guess my boyfriend most definitely would.”
He smirks. “Not Calloway?”
Rolling my eyes, I groan. “Do not call me that.”
“Why not? Might be a little, well, formal for you. But it is your name.”
“Way too formal,” I say, scrunching my nose. “Y’know, stuffy.”
He rolls full lips in, considering this. Finally, he nods. “Callie, then.” He tests the nickname, causing heat to lick the tips of my ears.
“You’ve been, uh, still calling me Ms. Rutherford.” My strange excuse of an explanation has me working to not face palm myself. I settle for taking another swig of molten chocolate. Gotta balance that salad.
Curious eyes roam my features before a glorious smile settles on his movie star face. “You never told me I could.” He shrugs. “I didn’t want to assume.”
Wiping my mouth, I give a flourish with my free hand. “So … your family?”
“Oh,” he says, as though he forgot they were even part of this equation. “Right. They’re definitely a whole different ballgame than yours.”
Feigning shock, I throw a hand to my chest, strategically covering the cocoa stain. “You mean to tell me that they’re not extraterrestrial overlords whose society is teeming with cats ready to pee all over your plants at a moment's notice?”
“Shocking, I know,” he deadpans. But those eyes sparkle as he suppresses a grin. “But, no, my family is super close.”
“Must be nice,” I grumble, much to his amusement.
Oliver chuckles, pulling something else from the paper takeout bag. “It—what?” He blinks rapidly. “Did you change your mind?” he winces. Then he notices what I can only assume is the drool forming in the corner of my mouth.
“What is that amazing smell?” I don’t even care that my eyes are probably the size of a circus Big Top. Whatever is coming from Oliver’s bag can only be a gift from the gods.
The beautiful man blushes furiously, pulling a small Ziplock bag of cookies from their hiding place.
With only a moment of hesitation, he holds them out to me.
“I made them. Chocolate chip and oatmeal. I’d love to share them with you, if you’d like.
” Without waiting for an answer, Oliver opens the bag and hands one over.
One bite is all it takes. “Well, I think I’m in love,” I sigh.
Laughter bursts from his lips. “Is that so?” he asks around his own bite of cookie.
“Yep,” I nod. “In fact, go ahead and warn your family that we’re headed down the aisle any day now.” Swallowing, I narrow my gaze. “Okay, but really, Rhodes. If you can bake like that, why on earth are you still single?”
“Why are you?” he shoots back. But not until he’s handed me another.
“My last name, it takes care of scaring away anyone I’d be interested in. Not to mention, I grew up here. Everyone knows who my family is”—I shake my head—“and anybody would probably have to be crazy to upset them. Which is what would happen if I chose someone they didn’t approve of.”
“Well, I don’t.”
My brows knit together. “Don’t what?”
“I don’t know who your family is. My family only moved here when my sister was a senior in high school.” Oliver shrugs. “So, frankly, I don’t care if I upset them or not.” He grins.
“Will your family be mad?” I whisper, looking down at the half-eaten cookie in my hand.
He considers this. “They won’t love the idea of being lied to if they find out. But they just think I work too much and need to settle down. Unlike your family, who just sound cruel and dismissive.”
“Do you work too much?”
Oliver looks over to the photo collage of Ian, Aaron, and I for inspiration.
He must not find any since he frowns before returning his gaze to mine.
“When I was in grad school, I witnessed some gross misconduct. And I swore that, when I was finally in a position to do so, I would only be a positive influence on those that came to me for help.”
“So, you think helping gaslight my entire family is considered positive?” I ask, quirking a brow.
Rolling amused eyes, Oliver leans back in my chair. “I’ll admit, it’s not a shining example of my professional goals.” His eyes lock onto mine. “But I think this is a pretty worthy cause.”
Being on the receiving end of Dr. Oliver Rhodes’ open stare is nothing short of flush-inducing, and I stumble all over myself trying to find something, anything, to say.
“Well, then,” I start, clearing my throat, “I guess your parents are about to meet one awesome girlfriend, since she’ll need you to hold up your end of the bargain. ”
“Marshall and Sandra,” he says.
“Sorry?”
“My parents, Marshall and Sandra,” he repeats. “My dad owns his own woodworking business, and my mom actually owns a restaurant. Then, of course, let’s not forget Nacho, who will also be in attendance on Thursday.”
“Got it,” I nod enthusiastically. “Nacho’ll be there too?”
“Of course.” Oliver playfully rolls his eyes. “Sometimes, I think Mom likes her more than me.” He pulls out his phone to display the lock screen image of him holding his golden retriever on some overlook.
“She’s beautiful,” I gush, taking the phone. “How’d you manage to take the picture?”
“John was there with us. Rindy might’ve been, too,” he frowns. “I can’t remember.”
My brows shoot up. “She doesn’t seem much like the hiking type.”
He shakes his head. “Not since she met Jo. But back in college, the three of us spent a lot of time on the trails.”
“Hm,” I hand the phone back over, “the brother and sister hiking duo. Does your sister ever go with you, too?”
“Nah. She prefers indoor workouts,” he laughs.
“Oh, how much younger is your sister?”
Oliver crumples up his trash, placing it in the bin by my desk. “She’s twenty-seven. And, uh, while we’re on the subject … ” That beautiful blush returns. “I’m thirty-two, for reference.”
“Okay,” I nod, doing my best to suppress a grin.
I know he’s fishing for how old I am, but how often do I get the chance to make such a gorgeous man this uncomfortable?
“Noted.” Besides, will he feel weird once he learns I’m the same age as his sister?
Would it make him back out of our deal? Feeling his eyes watching my every move, I clean up my mess from lunch and begin gathering worksheets for when my babies return.
T-minus ten minutes.
“How long have you been baking?” I ask, rounding another desk to place some papers. I don’t have to look up to know he’s watching.
“Forever,” he answers. That silky voice is a little too casual. Too relaxed. I wonder if that’s his standard my-patient-is-annoying-me voice. “I’ve been helping my mom in the kitchen since I was little.”
“Ah.”
“But she learned really early that I had to have ground rules when I did,” he continues.
Hating admitting that I’m intrigued, I peek back over my shoulder as I move around the final table. That same intense stare from the bar catalogues my every move. “How’s that?”