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Jenny just rolls her eyes. “You’re a strange man, Tex Jameson. A strange, strange man.”
“Yeah, but I’m your man, honey.”
“That’s true,” she responds with a genuine grin. “And you’re also the man who’s going to have to deal with the fantastic pain in the ass when he finds out his daddy hired a pretty doctor to take care of him for the summer.”
I grin and nod at that.
There’s no denying Rhett’s going to be pissed off more than a hive of angry bees when he finds out the beautiful, curvaceous lady standing at his door is actually his personal doctor for the next two months.
Truthfully, I didn’t know Frank Kaminsky was going to send over a goddamn modern-day brunette version of fucking Marilyn Monroe, but I’ll be damned if it isn’t going to make things a hell of a lot more interesting around here.
If Tiny had to practically wipe the damn drool off his shirt earlier when he brought her to my office, I can only imagine what my son will think when he sees Dr. Leah Levee for the first time.
I’m just hoping she’ll know how to handle the stubborn son of a bitch.
Or, if she doesn’t know, that she’ll learn quick.
Because the sooner she can get Rhett back on his feet, the better off everyone will be.
Leah
The steering wheel vibrates erratically in my hands, and I sigh as I turn onto a gravel road I’m pretty sure will lead me to Rhett Jameson.
What a freaking day.
I’ll be honest, when I boarded a private plane this morning to head out to a ranch to take care of a teenage ortho patient, I didn’t visualize being tossed a pair of keys to a crappy car, given a map I can hardly read, and being left to my own devices to figure shit out.
The ride from the lodge to my cabin, while only a mile up the road, took a good twenty minutes. All thanks to the lovely way the engine on this damn car Tex loaned me started smoking every time I got the speed up over ten miles an hour.
It’s no wonder Tiny prefers his horse. If it’s either off-road vehicles like he tried to kill me in on the way to the lodge or pieces of crap like this, I’m starting to think maybe I should consider learning how to horseback ride.
Fortunately, when I arrived at Cabin Three, I found all six of my suitcases waiting for me.
The instant I stepped inside, after making a quick pit stop in my new bathroom, I tried to call my brother and text Carla and Taylor, but the cell service wasn’t cooperating.
I’m hoping later tonight, after I see my patient, I’ll find a way to ET-Phone-Home.
Overall, my new home-away-from-home is nice and quaint and clean, and the view is better than anything I’ve ever seen. Even though the decor is bland for my tastes, it’s nothing a quick run to Target to purchase some flowers and curtains and other cutesy things can’t fix.
However, I highly doubt this Jeep would make it the forty miles to St. George where the nearest Target is located.
I snort in horror at the mere thought of that road trip and accidentally push my foot to the gas pedal too hard. Instantly, the engine roars and smokes its protest.
“Sheesh. Chill out. Twelve miles an hour shouldn’t kill you, Karen,” I mutter and tap the dashboard.
It might seem odd to have already given a name to a vehicle that isn’t mine, but with the way this Jeep bitches and complains with every little thing, I can’t deny it’s basically the Karen of inanimate objects. If your name is Karen, and you don’t like to nitpick from your high horse, I’m sorry. Your parents had no idea what they were setting you up for.
When I spot a large cabin nestled in the woods up ahead, I grab the map from the passenger seat to verify it’s the house Tex circled.
Thankfully, it is, and I let Karen know we’re almost there.
“Hang tight, old girl. Just a tiny bit longer and we’ll be there.”
She putts and whines but manages the job, and it only takes a few more minutes before I pull to a stop in front of the house.
With a large wraparound front porch and big, open windows on the sides, it’s a true beauty.
The kind of home you’d want to raise a family and, eventually, grow old in. I don’t even live here, and I can imagine lots of summer nights spent on that front porch, sitting in the rocking chairs and drinking lemonade.
Once I cut the engine, I use all my might to grip the door handle and shove it open. At first, it creaks and groans in argument, but after a few pushes of my shoulder, it gives way so I can step out.
