The Doctor's Christmas Wish. Renee Ryan
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T-shirt, but the slogan was similar to last night’s: Here I Am. What Are Your Other Two Wishes?
The man really was annoying. Snorting in exasperation, she lifted her head, found herself caught once again in his gaze. She really wished he’d quit staring at her with...those eyes.
“Hey,” he said with a knowing smirk.
Unable to speak, she hummed out a quick response.
His smile turned into a muffled chuckle. The slightly condescending sound increased her unease. Then came the familiar frustration. Antagonism was one step away. But giving in to the emotion would be childish.
“I, uh...” Keely grabbed the remaining scraps of her dignity. “I wasn’t expecting you to stop over again tonight.”
“Came to check on my patient.” He broke eye contact—finally—and focused on Felicity.
The little girl was running Baloo through his repertoire of tricks a second time around.
“How you feeling this evening, Flicka?”
“Huh?” Hand wrapped around Baloo’s outstretched paw, the little girl looked up. “Oh... I’m good. I didn’t have to go to school, so Keely and I spent all day baking cookies and making care packages for the Youth Center’s Christmas party.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“It was super fun. In a few days I have to meet Keely’s best friend, Olivia, and her daughters, Megan and Molly.” The child’s eyebrows pulled together in a worried frown. “They’re my age and Keely says they can’t wait to meet me.”
“If Keely said that, then it’s true.”
“I guess so.” She heaved a sigh, the little-girl worry evident in the sound. “Hey, can I take Baloo into the other room and see if he’ll play tug-of-war with a sock?”
Though innocently asked, the question brought a complete change over Ethan. His smile dropped, his shoulders tensed, his gaze went distant. It was as if he’d been transported to another place, at least in his mind, somewhere not altogether pleasant.
He cleared his throat, twice. “It’s one of his favorite games, especially with little girls on the other end of the sock.”
As the two hurried off, an awkward silence fell over the kitchen. Keely couldn’t understand why Ethan’s entire demeanor had changed simply because Felicity wanted to play tug-of-war with Baloo. She remembered a similar change in him last night.
In the days leading up to their broken engagement, Cutter had looked much like Ethan now. The memory made her doubly wary of the man standing in her house.
Nevertheless, she couldn’t stop herself from worrying about Ethan. He needs me. The thought surprised her. Ethan Scott was the most capable man she knew. And the most annoying.
And yet...
She placed her fingertips on his arm. “Are you all right?”
Shrugging away from her touch, he blinked slowly, squared his shoulders and drew in a long breath. Once again he was Mr. Cool, Calm and Casual.
“Something smells good.”
Now that they were back to polite small talk, a surge of complicated emotions spread through her. The sense of relief was easy enough to understand. The agitation, not nearly so much.
“I made chicken à l’Orange and baked sweet potatoes. And a healthy salad.” Don’t ask him to stay for dinner. Do. Not. Ask. “You’re welcome to eat with Felicity and me. There’s plenty.”
He looked about to turn down her offer. But suddenly, inexplicably, Keely very much wanted him to stay.
“Consider it payment for not teasing me over how I overreacted last night.”
“You didn’t overreact.”
She frowned. “I thought Felicity had appendicitis.”
“Given her symptoms, it was a logical concern.”
For the second time in so many days, Keely stared at Ethan as if he were a stranger. In many ways, he was. She felt as if they were meeting for the first time. She decided to pretend the change in their relationship didn’t matter. But it did.
And that scared her far more than she was willing to admit. The man had too many secrets, none of which he seemed willing to share with her. Been there, done that, have the remnants of a broken heart to prove it.
“While we’re on the subject of Flicka.” He pointed a finger at Keely. “I noticed you didn’t make the appointment yet.”
She blinked at him in shock. Ethan was arrogant, and the big, bad, frustrating bane of her existence, but he wasn’t a micromanager. His office staff handled scheduling. “How can you possibly know whether or not I made an appointment for her?”
“I checked.”
Of course he did.
“It’s important, Keely. Flicka needs a primary care physician. Make the appointment.”
“Felicity really took to Baloo tonight. What do you think? Should I get her a dog for Christmas? Would it help ease the transition for her?”
“Changing the subject, are we?”
“You better believe it.”
He laughed. Despite her irritation at his bossy manner, the deep rumble made her smile in return.
Knowing he was right, again, Keely stopped resisting. “I’ll make the appointment tomorrow.”
“I’m going to hold you to it.”
As if she didn’t know that. “You never answered my question. Are you staying for dinner?”
His hesitation returned. But this time it lasted only a few heartbeats. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
He looked mildly surprised by his acceptance.
That made two of them.
Felicity’s laughter rang out. Keely’s throat constricted at the happy sound, so different from the groans of pain last night. In that moment, Keely knew she was in over her head. How was she supposed to parent a child she barely knew?
All the fears she’d held at bay since she’d begun taking over legal guardianship shot to the surface. A gasp of utter panic leaked out of her.
Misinterpreting the sound, Ethan’s gaze narrowed over her face. “I don’t have to stay for dinner. You can take back the invitation and I won’t hold it against you.”
“It’s not that.”
Concern etched across her face. “Then what?”
“I... Oh, Ethan, I want to take good care of Felicity, but what do I know about kids? I spent the last decade working in a world of fashion models.”
“Keely, listen to me.” The epitome of calm confidence, Ethan took hold of her shoulders and gently turned her to face him. “You’re doing a great job so far.”
Instead of calming her fears, his unexpected words of praise had the opposite effect. “What if I fail her?”
Hands still on her shoulders, he tweaked her nose in a big brother sort of way. “You’re exhausted from last night. Once you get some sleep, everything will look better in the morning.”
“You’re probably right.”
“Of course I’m right. I’m always right.”
The arrogant comment did what no kind words could have done. She bristled. Prepared for a fight, she snapped her gaze to his, felt her anger melt at his compassionate smile.
That look had her abandoning her pride and admitting, “I’m really scared.”
“It’s