A Home For The M.d.. Gina Wilkins

that he had early hospital rounds to make the next morning, Alice accepted that game night was over and began to put away the supplies.

      Mitch helped Jacqui clear away the remains of their snacks. Carrying empty soda cans to the recycling bin in the kitchen, he smiled down at her when they almost bumped into each other as he reached around her to drop the cans in the bin. “Sorry.”

      This usually roomy kitchen had never felt as small as it did at that moment, with Mitch standing right in front of her and the kitchen counter at her back. All she’d have to do was take one small step forward and she’d be in his arms, plastered against him. Not that she intended to do anything of the sort, of course. It was strictly an observation.

      Mitch studied her face for a moment, making her wonder what he might see in the expression she tried to keep carefully blank. And then he moved back a few steps. She drew in air, realizing she’d held her breath while he stood so close. What was it about this man that flustered her so much?

      He moved toward the doorway. “I’m going to do some paperwork in my room, then turn in. I need to be at the hospital by six in the morning for a breakfast meeting with a partner. Told my mom I’d have lunch with her and Madison and our aunts, then I’m heading to the mall to buy a few things. Tomorrow evening I’ll be playing soccer with the guys, so I won’t be around here much.”

      She nodded, telling herself she should be relieved he wouldn’t be underfoot the next day.

      “Good night, Jacqui.”

      “Good night.” He didn’t seem to like it when she called him Dr. Baker, but she wasn’t quite comfortable using his name yet, so she tended to avoid calling him anything.

      He didn’t look back when he left the room. She knew that because she watched him until he was out of her sight.

      Two more weeks, max, under the same roof. She could do this. She assumed the novelty of him would wear off after a couple days of proximity. At least she hoped it would. She wasn’t sure how much she could take of having her pulse race this way every time Mitch stood close to her.

      As he climbed into the guest bed that night, Mitch wondered what it was about a suggestion of playing Monopoly that had made Jacqui’s dark eyes go so bleak it had made his heart hurt for her. The most obvious explanation was that it had something to do with her late sister. Childhood memories, perhaps?

      She hadn’t said how long her sister had been gone, but it was apparent that the loss was still raw. He imagined what it would be like to lose one of his own sisters, and the pain was so immediate and so piercing that he put the thought quickly out of his mind. He didn’t even want to consider the possibility. Losing his possessions was a minor inconvenience; losing members of his family—well, that was very hard for him to handle. He’d already lost one parent, his beloved dad, and that had been a horrible time for his whole family. It had been difficult enough saying goodbye to his grandmother last year, and they had all been braced for months for her death.

      He didn’t like seeing pain in anyone’s eyes, but for some reason it had especially bothered him to see Jacqui looking so unhappy, even momentarily. That sadness had been in such stark contrast with her laughter only moments before whatever memory had assaulted her.

      She’d seemed to have fun during their game session with Alice. She’d teased along with him and his niece, and he’d been struck by her soft, rich laughter. For those two hours, she had even lost some of the reserve she usually showed around him—and that he still couldn’t understand. He’d found himself having to make an effort to concentrate on the games rather than the glint of pleasure in her pretty, dark eyes.

      Lying on his back in the darkened room, he stared upward, seeing Jacqui’s face rather than the shadowed ceiling. Despite her obvious and bewildering wariness of him, he still found himself drawn to her.

      He’d been intrigued by her from the first time he’d met her. He’d been surprised that the housekeeper his sister and her new family had raved so much about had been a rather gamine young woman rather than the stereotypically sturdy matron he’d vaguely envisioned. He’d admired her big, dark eyes, pointed little chin and soft, nicely shaped mouth, and although he usually was attracted to long, wavy hair, he’d liked her tousled pixie cut. It suited her.

      As busy as he’d been the past year, and as awkward as it would have been to pursue his sister’s employee, he’d done nothing about his initial tug of attraction to Jacqui. But now that they were under the same roof and spending more time together, the fascination was only growing harder to ignore. He was still busy, and it was still awkward—not to mention that she’d given him no encouragement at all—but maybe they could at least be friends by the time he moved into a new place. Maybe in the future she would smile warmly when she saw him, rather than that politely distanced expression she usually wore when he was around.

      He’d like that.