50 Harbor Street - Debbie Macomber [103]
Cal pulled out a kitchen chair for her and went to the sink. He lathered his hands with soap, drying them on a kitchen towel. Then he sat down in the chair next to hers and laid his hand on the table, palm up. He smelled of fresh hay and leather—the scent she’d noticed on him the night he’d kissed her. It had acted like a powerful aphrodisiac then. It did now.
To disguise her attraction, Linnette examined her handiwork. The cut had healed nicely. “You took good care of it,” she said, and smoothly ran her fingers over his palm. At the feel of her skin against his, Cal bristled. She chose to ignore his revulsion at her touch. “I don’t see any infection.”
“N-none,” he agreed.
She looked up long enough to smile. Long enough to let him read the message in her eyes. The regret, the fear of rejection, the apology. He had to understand that she hadn’t found it easy to come to him like this.
“I’m enjoying my work at the medical clinic,” she said casually, disregarding his impatience. “I’ve seen a variety of cases. It’s something different every day.”
Cal didn’t comment.
“Working with Dr. Timmons has been interesting.”
Cal seemed to tense at the mention of the other man.
“Have you ever done anything you regret?” she asked. She didn’t give him the opportunity to answer, for fear of what he’d say. Perhaps he regretted having kissed her.
“I met Chad at the hospital while I was training in Seattle,” she said. “I was attracted to him then, and I felt elated when I discovered he was going to work at the clinic, too.”
He didn’t react, didn’t respond.
“I know now that my attraction to him was a schoolgirl crush. His interests lie elsewhere and—and as a matter of fact, so do mine.” She held his gaze for an extra-long moment. “Cal,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I am so sorry for the way I treated you—so very sorry.”
He still didn’t respond, and she read the indecision in his eyes, as if he wasn’t convinced he should trust her.
“I knew almost immediately,” she continued, bending her head. “You kissed me and I was afraid. I know that sounds idiotic, but I was. I didn’t want to be attracted to you. I didn’t want to feel the things I did when you touched me.” She exhaled and hoped he sensed how much it had cost her to be this honest. “I even went to my dad and talked to him about you. He said I should let it rest.”
“H-he’s a w-w-wise man.”
Linnette pretended not to hear him. “Dad said I should wait to see if you came back into my life. A couple of weeks after that, you were in the clinic with this cut.” She didn’t add how absolutely delighted she was to see him, despite his injury. That injury had been the working of fate, the fate her father had alluded to.
“Timmons?” he asked, his eyes narrowed.
She wasn’t sure what he wanted to know. “Oh, you’re asking about Chad and me?”
Cal nodded.
“Chad did ask me to have coffee with him that one time—the day you were in the clinic.” She emphasized that this had happened only once. “He’s dating a friend of mine now. Well, actually, that’s a problem, too. Gloria’s apparently told him she’s not interested, but I know she is.” Linnette sighed. “Sometimes relationships get rather convoluted.”
He snorted softly.
Having said everything she could think of, she met his eyes and smiled boldly. “Now that I’ve explained, what are you doing tonight?” She felt a bit like Indiana Jones stepping into thin air.
“W-working.”
“Oh. Friday night, then?” She was working late, which meant they wouldn’t have dinner until most people were in bed, but she didn’t care.
“C-can’t.”
She was beginning to get the message. “I see.” That was pretty much what she’d expected. Linnette had given this her best shot and it hadn’t worked. She stood up, prepared