with the tip of my tongue will do the same thing, but I’m usually too busy talking—” She stopped and bit down on her bottom lip. “Well, I guess you’ve already figured that out.”
Yes, he had. What he couldn’t figure out was why he liked that about her.
“Should I go on?” she asked.
As if he could tell her not to. “Please do.”
Annabel turned the page and his gaze was drawn to the photo of a teenage boy holding himself upright on parallel bars, a prosthetic where his right leg should have been. “This is Marcus Colton. He lost his leg last winter in a snowmobile accident. Like most teenagers, what he did best was give his physical therapists a hard time.”
“Let me guess. Smiley changed that?”
“We were at the clinic one day when Marcus was being his usual charming self, demanding no one would get him to make a fool of himself by trying to walk, even though he’d been doing pretty well at his rehab for a month by then.”
She pointed to the next picture showing her dog sitting calmly at the opposite end of the bars, Annabel just a few feet away holding his leash. “Smiley allowed Marcus to pet him for a few minutes and then he went and sat there, almost daring Marcus to come to him.”
“And he did.”
“Not the first visit. Or even the second, but Smiley proved to be every bit as stubborn as Marcus. The boy finally relented and now he’s making great progress.”
She went on, telling him stories of senior citizens who had no one to visit them but Smiley, of the patients attending their dialysis sessions who welcomed the distraction petting a dog brought and schoolkids finding it easier to practice their reading when their audience was a dog.
With each story came more looks upward, a couple swipes at the tears that made it through and a sexy husky laugh, all of which struck a chord deep in Thomas’s gut.
“I’m guessing all of this is to convince me to allow Smiley to work with Forrest during his rehab, if my patient agrees,” Thomas said when she finally finished. “But why do I get the feeling you are looking for something else from me?”
“Hmm, now that’s a loaded question.” She closed her book, a pretty blush on her cheeks. “Yes, working with Forrest was my original plan. I still want to now that he’s home from the hospital and ready to start his physical therapy, but what I’d really like is to set up a weekly support group here at the hospital. One that’s open to any patient who wants to come, no matter what their illness.”
While Thomas still had doubts about her work, he found himself enamored of Annabel’s spirit. What surprised him even more was the fact he wanted to see her again.
And not just here at the hospital.
“I’m still not completely convinced, but I’ll agree to at least consider your idea.”
“Really?” Annabel’s smile was wide, her blue eyes sparkling up at him. “That’s wonderful!”
“There’s just one condition.” He could hardly believe the words pouring from his mouth. “You agree to have dinner with me.”
Chapter Three
Stunned, Annabel didn’t know what to say. Anyone who knew her well would say it was the first time she’d ever been at a loss for words.
Especially after she’d spent the past half hour hogging the conversation with a man who’d put those dreamy and steamy television doctors to shame. Without the standard long white lab coat he’d worn the last time she was here, his purple dress shirt and purple, gray and black striped tie brought out just a hint of lavender in those amazingly blue eyes.
Not to mention what the shirt did for the man’s broad shoulders.
He wore his dark hair short, but it stood up in spiky tufts on top, as if he’d been running his hand through it just before she arrived. The sharp angles of his cheeks and jaw were smooth-shaven despite it being late in the afternoon.
Her breath had just about vanished from her lungs when he’d joined her on the couch, his woodsy cologne teasing her senses. Thank goodness she’d remembered the scrapbook so she had something to do with her hands.
Besides attack the good doctor, that was.
“Annabel? Did you hear me?”
She blinked, realized she’d been staring. “You want to go out?”
“Yes.”
Considering how hard she’d tried not to sound like a sap with her endless chatter about the therapy dog program, Annabel now found it hard to put her thoughts into words. “With me?”
“Yes, with you. We can talk more about your program. Unless there’s a reason why you can’t?”
Was “too stunned to reply” an acceptable answer?
“Do you have a boyfriend?” His expression turned serious again. “I didn’t see a ring on your finger, but I don’t want to presume you are free—”
“No.” She cut him off. He’d actually looked to see if she wore a ring? “I’m free, totally free. Free as a bird.”
“Is that a yes, then?”
She nodded. “Yes, dinner sounds great.”
“Tomorrow night okay?”
Something to do on a Friday that didn’t include her dog or a sibling? Tomorrow night would be perfect. “I work until six, but after that I’m all yours.”
Thomas cleared his throat and stood, rising to his feet in one smooth motion. “Where do you work?”
“At the Thunder Canyon Public Library.” Annabel mirrored his actions, grabbing her bag and slipping it over one shoulder. “I’m the librarian in charge of the children’s area.”
He waved a hand at her scrapbook. “So, all the work you do with therapy dogs is strictly volunteer?”
“Oh, yes. I don’t get paid for any of my visits, other than Smiley sometimes getting a doggy treat or two.” She hugged her book to her chest, peeking up at him through her lashes. “But I love the work. The therapy program is one of my many passions, along with books and my family. I guess I’m just a passionate person by nature.”
His eyes deepened to a dark blue as their focus shifted to her mouth. A slight tilt of his head, a restrained shift in his body that brought him just a hint closer.
Her tongue darted out to lick her suddenly dry lips. She couldn’t help it. Not that she dared think he might—
Yes, she had thought about the man, probably too much, over the past two weeks. She’d been looking forward to this meeting for more reasons than convincing Thomas to allow a therapy group here at the hospital. One she would be in charge of.
Annabel could admit, at least to herself, she’d wanted to find out if the quivering sensations she’d experienced when they’d first met had been all in her head.
They weren’t.
“I know a great Italian bistro, Antonio’s, over in Bozeman. Where should I pick you up?”
She blinked again, breaking the spell the doctor seemed to weave around her. Antonio’s? A dinner there cost more than she made in a week. “Oh, we don’t have to go that far. Any place in town would be fine by me.”
“My treat, so I get to pick the place.”
His tone was persuasively charming, so Annabel simply rattled off her address. And her cell phone number. “You know, just in case.”
Thomas nodded, then gestured in the direction of the door with one hand, signaling the end of their meeting. “Until tomorrow night, then.”