His Long-Awaited Bride. Jessica Matthews
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goodness, Justin,” Lucy said weakly, although her surprise was still obvious, “don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to court a lady.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” he protested. “I date on occasion.”
“Oh, really?” Marissa sounded skeptical and she had every right to be. Medicine and his patients came first in his life and he only fit in the odd date or two on the fringes. He usually spent his spare time playing basketball with the guys at the gym or watching movies at Marissa’s.
“Really,” he affirmed. “I went to the Valentine’s Day ball with a date. Cam proposed to Dixie, remember? And before that was the annual hospital Christmas party. Don’t forget the end of harvest festival coming up in August. I always bring a guest to that.”
“Three dates in a year?” Lucy asked, incredulous. “No wonder you’re still single.”
“I’m positive I’ve gone out more than three times,” he protested. “I just can’t remember them. In any case, it doesn’t hurt to hear what women expect. What, exactly, did Trent do?”
“Travis,” Marissa corrected.
He shrugged. “Whatever. It rained last night, so I suppose he spread his coat across a puddle to keep your shoes from getting wet.”
“No, but he had an umbrella.”
Considering the weather forecast hadn’t given decent odds for moisture, he was marginally impressed. “A regular Boy Scout.”
“Jealous?”
He glanced at her to see the question in her green eyes that reminded him of sparkling emeralds. “Hardly. Although I thought you liked to walk in the rain.”
He hadn’t planned to sound accusatory, but somehow he had. Probably because he could remember several Saturday afternoons when the two of them had ambled along the park’s walking path during a heavy drizzle just so she could enjoy the fresh air. He’d agreed, not because he enjoyed getting soaked down to his skivvies but because there had been something so childlike about the experience. Revisiting his childhood wasn’t something he did often, but once in a while the stress of his profession got to be overwhelming. For the length of those walks he could forget that he held people’s lives in his hands, that some people simply couldn’t be saved.
“I do when I’m dressed for the occasion, but not when I’m wearing a dress and heels.”
She had a point.
“You know, dear,” Lucy interjected, “your Travis sounds wonderful. Did you have a good time?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“Is he the one?”
Justin’s ears perked as he waited for her answer. The fact that she hesitated meant that she had doubts or at least some reservations.
Reservations were good. If he’d listened to his inner warnings about Chandra, he could have avoided a heap of trouble in his life. As Marissa’s friend for many years, he was bound and determined to save her some grief, if he could.
“It’s too soon to tell,” she finished smoothly.
He let out the breath he’d been holding.
“Don’t rush into anything,” Lucy said in a far-away voice. “I know you aren’t getting younger and people like to talk about a woman’s biological clock ticking, but it doesn’t hurt to be positively sure about a decision.”
“Here, here!” Justin chimed in, refusing to let Marissa’s glare intimidate him.
“Although,” Lucy continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “I’ve never been able to understand why you two have never gotten together.”
“We are together.” Marissa sounded puzzled. “I met Travis a few weeks ago.”
“Not him. You and Justin.”
Justin nearly swallowed his tongue. From Marissa’s sudden intake of breath, he knew she’d experienced the same reaction. “Us?” she squeaked.
Us? he echoed in his mind. Where would Lucy get an idea like that?
And yet the idea didn’t send him recoiling in horror. Yes, they spent several evenings a week in each other’s company and had ever since he’d moved to Hope and discovered that Marissa lived here, too. They’d also gone to dinner and the movies whenever a new film had come to town, but those had always been platonic outings. More often than not, they went Dutch, although there had been a few times when he’d left his billfold in his scrub suit at the hospital and Mari had paid for their hamburgers and movie tickets.
But he’d always paid her back. Hadn’t he? He frowned, trying to recall the circumstances, then decided they didn’t matter. What was more important was understanding how Lucy had jumped to her conclusion.
“What made you think that?” he asked, curious to hear her answer.
“You spend a lot of time together,” Lucy said, clearly oblivious to the charged atmosphere swirling around the two people in question. “Look at how often you see each other at the hospital. And don’t forget all those evenings you drop by Marissa’s house. Don’t deny it because I see your car parked outside several times a week.”
Lucy was right. Why had he never noticed how his “official” dates were scheduled into his life like appointments with his physical therapist, but he saw Marissa more often than not? While he was shocked and surprised by the notion, the mental picture it generated didn’t horrify him.
Not one bit.
“We’re just friends, Lucy. Justin isn’t my type.” Her firm tone couldn’t have made her opinion more clear. As far as she was concerned, the idea plainly fell beyond all realm of possibility.
Instead of feeling reassured, his ego bristled. Just what type did she think he was?
While they didn’t necessarily like the same things—he preferred coffee over her tea; she liked golf while he was happier playing basketball or football; she favored spicy foods while they gave him heartburn—they got along well. They might have differing opinions, but he always felt as if he could say what he thought without worrying if he would offend her. From their rousing discussions, he’d hazard to say that she did the same.
But if she thought that smooth-talking snake-oil salesman Travis Pendleton was more her type than he was, then he would definitely have to work hard to convince her of how wrong she was.
“And I’m not his type, either,” she added firmly. “If it weren’t for us both being in health care, we’d have nothing in common.”
Nothing in common? He wanted to protest, but Lucy beat him to the punch.
“Nonsense. Differences are good.” Lucy’s words slurred. “Don’t forget how well you both connect with each other. You’ve laid a strong foundation and it’s a shame you two haven’t built anything on it.”
“I think you’re suffering from an overactive imagination,” Marissa stated kindly to her neighbor. “We’re only good friends. Even if we weren’t, Justin is a die-hard bachelor, so you’re wasting your time at playing matchmaker. Isn’t that right, Doctor?”
Her description stung. A bachelor, yes, but die-hard? Not particularly. He might prefer to keep his relationships simple and uncomplicated, but Marissa’s version made him seem so…inflexible and stubborn, not to mention lonely.
Contrary to what people might believe, he wanted the same things that every other man wanted—a cozy house and a warm wife. The problem was that he’d chosen poorly the first time and he dreaded a repeat of his mistake.
He would have explained his reluctance to Lucy, but he was ready to wrap up both the procedure and the conversation that reminded him of lost dreams.
“Okay, Lucy, we’re done.” Justin removed the needle from her spine