all the strength I can get today.”
“And why is that exactly?” The woman leant forward conspiratorially. “Is the new boss a bit of an ogre?”
“Exactly! Wait, no. Hmm …” Fraser reconsidered, enjoying the playful tête-à-tête with the café owner, “More like a drill sergeant in a sexy ski suit. Nothing I can’t handle. Particularly if I bribe her with a few of these treats you have here.”
“So your boss is a bit of a push-over, is she?”
The sound of Tara’s voice hit Fraser’s nerve endings before he saw her. Great. Just great. If she was going to be this sensitive about everything that came out of his mouth it was going to be a long season.
“Morning, Tara! So this is the new doc you hired?”
“You guessed right, Marian. I’m afraid I am to blame.” Tara offered a hundred-watt smile to Marian and a cool half-glance in Fraser’s direction. Is that all you’ve got? C’mon, Dr. Braxton. You’ll have to play harder than that if you want to stick in the daggers. This could be fun.
“Oh, I wouldn’t blame you for hiring this one.” The café owner gave Tara a naughty grin, not even attempting to hide her approval of Fraser’s looks. And we can chalk another point up for MacKenzie!
Tara leant forward conspiratorially, a smile playing on her lips and her eyes trained on Fraser as she addressed her friend. “Trust me, Marian, if I’d realized I’d hired a speed freak who has problems with his superiors I would’ve gone straight back to the drawing board.”
Fraser flinched, unable to staunch the memory of his commanding officer ordering him to return from the combat zone. So it’s time for hardball, is it? If Tara wanted to play this game, it was fine with him. He didn’t have anything to lose. Not any more.
“The ink’s hardly dry on my contract …”
“I don’t think we’re quite at that point.” Tara met his gaze, the merest hint of a question in her eyes. “Are we?” It was a statement. Not a question.
No. Perhaps not just yet. He was the one who chose when to leave. Not the other way around. Besides, just a couple of mini-encounters with this woman and he knew instinctively she was more substance than style. And she had buckets of style.
“Will you have the regular, dear?” Marian interjected, seemingly oblivious to the verbal sparring match being played out in front of her muffin display.
“Yes, please, Marian, and could you also add on whatever Dr. MacKenzie would like as well? We wouldn’t want him thinking we are bereft of manners out here in the wilds of Deer Creek.”
There was that fiery glint in Tara’s eyes again. How playfully or not it shone was up in the air.
She sure was a live wire. Even so, the last thing Fraser wanted was for Tara to think he was a sexist pig. Women were paramount in his life. His mother had almost single-handedly raised him and his brother, with their father’s military career consuming most of his time. And his brother’s wife? Well, he had met few people who could hold a candle to the strength and determination she had shown the past few years. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing the images of his family to stay behind the door he’d had to shut four years ago. They were better off without him.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”
“And why is that, exactly?” Tara’s dark eyes held his gaze, genuinely curious.
“Because we are professionals and while you may run the clinic, I am quite able to fend for myself.”
“No one’s doubting your ability to buy a blueberry muffin, Dr. MacKenzie. What I am doubting, is your ability to accept some Deer Creek hospitality.”
Fraser was a master at keeping his cool and he was damned if he was going to blow his top over who was or wasn’t going to buy a blueberry muffin. This whole palaver would be a lot easier if Tara didn’t make a glaring expression and firmly crossed arms look so attractive. Fraser was no chauvinist, but he certainly was about as red-blooded a male as they came.
He took a level breath and continued, “Where I come from, manners are paramount.” He saw her eyes narrow dubiously. “It is not unusual for a new employee to greet their boss with a purely professional, no-strings-attached latte and a …” he glanced at the counter as Marian brought out a huge plate of pancakes and a steaming pitcher of syrup “… very impressive plate of pancakes.”
Marian leaned in before Tara could respond. “Keep this one on, honey. I think we’ll like having him around the place.”
Tara shot her friend an I-love-you-but-you’re-not-really-helping look.
Okay. He definitely had charming and suave covered. Not so sure about the “professional” part.
Good grief. Chill out, Tara! Fraser seemed sincere enough. And her last comment had clearly hit a nerve. Not entirely sure which nerve, but there was definitely more going on than met the eye with this man. Anyhow, she hadn’t heard the entire conversation with Marian so it wasn’t entirely fair to judge. Eat your pancakes and let it go! Besides, staring into those startlingly azure eyes of his wasn’t exactly helping her focus. Neither was the fact that he had called her a drill sergeant. Maybe she’d pushed the cool and reserved boss thing a bit too far.
This wasn’t fair! She had worked hard to get herself back to the fun-loving person she had always been before New York and now she was coming across all grouchy and horrible.
“I’ll throw in one of Marian’s salted caramel brownies for later if that will seal the deal.” Fraser tipped his head in the direction of her absolutely favorite indulgence and gave her a knowing wink.
“Now, let’s not go overboard.” It was difficult to keep a smile from creeping onto her lips. The man was good. No doubt about it. “A plate of pancakes will suffice to give us a clean slate.” Tara knew she sounded churlish but she didn’t want Fraser to think his charming smile was actually making her go weak at the knees. Which it was. Or that his long-lashed wink had unleashed a reel of goose-bumps up her arms. Which it had. But she had to ignore that now and act like his boss. Which she was.
Arghhhh! Why didn’t she ask for photos of her applicants?
“For heaven’s sake, honey.” She felt Marian poking her arm playfully. “Let the man buy you a brownie. You know they’re your favorite and they were freshly baked this morning!” Marian adorned her sales pitch with a musical trill as Fraser put on what she imagined was his best contrite expression.
“Thank you. I gratefully accept.” Tara quickly whisked her pancakes off the counter and made her way to a window table before she made a bigger fool of herself. Any more deep and meaningful eye contact with Dr. Fraser MacKenzie would be a swan dive into a danger zone she didn’t want to enter. Not in a million years.
Tara took advantage of his turned back to lean her head against the cool window for a moment before pulling her fingers through her hat-head hair. She could hear Fraser laugh quietly with Marian as he settled the bill. Even across the room that sexy voice of his put her senses on high alert. Who was she kidding? Every single thing about the man had her feeling more alive than she’d ever felt and she’d only known him for a New York second. New York. The place that had taught her how important it was to be careful—guarded. To look after number one.
Sighing, she picked up her fork and stabbed at a pancake. Maybe she was a bit uptight. But that was hardly her fault. Life had taught her to be wary and Fraser was setting off all of her alarm bells. Besides, she primly reminded herself, he had nearly had a serious collision with her this morning so she had a right to be cross with him. And another thing! Did he have to be so—so accurate in assessing her character when they’d known each other less than five minutes? She would have to be tough. Cool. Professional.
“One gingerbread latte for the good doctor.”
Uh-oh.