The Choice - Nicholas Sparks [28]
She smiled, liking the gentle twang of his accent, surprised that she hadn’t noticed it before. “I just want to thank you again,” she said. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”
He waved it off. “I was glad to help.” He held out the newspaper. “Which reminds me, I grabbed this for you, too.”
“Thanks,” she said, taking it.
For an awkward beat, they faced each other silently.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” she offered. “I just brewed a pot.”
She felt a mixture of relief and disappointment when he shook his head.
“No thanks. I’d rather not be awake when I’m trying to sleep.”
She laughed. “Funny.”
“I try,” he said, and for an instant she pictured him leaning against a bar and offering the same response to an attractive woman, which left her with the vague feeling that he was flirting with her.
“But listen,” he went on, “I know you’re probably getting ready for work and I’m bushed, so I’m going home to crash for a while.” He turned to step off the porch.
Despite herself, Gabby crossed the threshold and called to him as he reached the yard. “Before you go, could you tell me what time you think you’ll be at the clinic? To check on Molly, I mean?”
“I’m not sure. I guess it depends on how long I sleep.”
“Oh . . . okay,” she said, feeling foolish and wishing she hadn’t asked.
“But how about this,” he went on. “You tell me what time you take lunch, and I’ll meet you at the clinic.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“What time?”
She swallowed. “A quarter to one?”
“I’ll be there,” he promised. He took a couple of steps backward. “And by the way, you look fantastic in that outfit,” he added.
What on earth just happened?
That pretty much summed up Gabby’s mental state for the rest of the morning. It didn’t matter whether she was doing a well-baby check (twice), diagnosing ear infections (four times), giving a vaccination (once), or recommending an X-ray (once); she felt herself operating on autopilot, only half-present, while another part was still back on the porch, wondering if Travis had actually been flirting with her and whether maybe, just maybe, she’d sort of liked it.
She wished for the umpteenth time that she had a friend in town to talk to about all this. There was nothing like having a close girlfriend to confide in, and though there were nurses in the office, her status as a physician assistant seemed to set her apart. Frequently, she’d hear the nurses talking and laughing, but they tended to get quiet as soon as she approached. Which left her feeling as isolated as she had been when she’d first moved to town.
After finishing with her last patient (the child needed a referral to an ear, nose, and throat specialist for a possible tonsillectomy), Gabby stuffed her stethoscope into the pocket of her lab coat and retreated to her office. It wasn’t much; she had the sneaking suspicion that before her arrival it had been used as a storeroom. There was no window, and the desk took up most of the room, but as long as she kept the clutter under control, it was still nice to have a place to call her own. There was a small, nearly empty filing cabinet in the corner, and she retrieved her purse from the bottom drawer. Checking her watch, she saw that she had a few minutes until she had to leave. She pulled up her chair and ran a hand through her undisciplined curls.
She was definitely making too big a deal about it, she decided. People flirted all the time. It was human nature. Besides, it probably didn’t mean anything. After all they’d gone through the night before, he’d become something like a friend. . . .
Her friend. Her first friend in a new town at the start of her new life. She liked the sound of that. What was wrong with having a friend? Nothing at all. She smiled at the thought before it gave way to a frown.
Then again, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea. Being