Page 173 of Mr. Charming


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I laughed. Suddenly, my day felt a lot better.

“Well, I don’t know about you, Tessa, but I’m going to get on out of here. My presence inside these walls is no longer contributing to my bank account at this hour.”

“All right, Molly. See you tomorrow.”

CHAPTER 4

Tessa

“Hey, there girl! How’s my girl?”

Lucy eagerly greeted me with a wagging tail as I walked through the door to my home. Lucy was a pit bull with a heart of gold who I had adopted from a local animal shelter four years ago despite everyone trying to talk me out of it.

“Do you know how dangerous pit bulls are?”

“That’s no dog for a pretty young woman like you. Get something a little more classy, like a poodle or a Yorkie.”

“Pit bulls are a lot to handle. Do you plan on having children someday? Do you want to bring them into a household with an aggressive animal?”

And on and on the criticism went. Yet, I couldn’t be deterred. From the moment I met eyes with Lucy, whose eyes were nearly the same shade of blue as mine, I knew she was my doggy soulmate. The moment the papers were signed and I brought her into my home, she had been nothing but a bundle of love and joy. And although she can be protective when necessary, I had yet to have any serious aggression problems with her. Lucy was living proof, as far as I was concerned, that with proper love and care, there was no such thing as a bad dog. The worst she had ever done was chew up a couple pairs of my old sneakers when she’d been left in the house too long while I was at work.

After jumping up and down and covering me with doggy kisses, Lucy spun around in a circle exactly three times before running to the back of the house to retrieve her leash. She seemed particularly eager to go for her run, or perhaps she sensed my need to blow off some steam. The day’s shift at the hos

pital had not only left me exasperated and irritated, but with plenty of pent-up frustration as well.

“Just give me a second to change clothes, Lucy,” I said, heading for my bedroom. She skipped behind me, her nails clicking on the wooden floor.

I pulled a t-shirt and shorts from my drawer and gratefully shed my hospital scrubs, kicking them into the corner of the room with the rest of my clothes that needed to be washed. Seeing how tall the pile had grown, I felt a twinge of embarrassment. Living alone had changed my habits quite a bit. Back in my younger college days, when I regularly had roommates and occasional booty calls, I wouldn’t have been caught dead with a pile of dirty clothes lying in a visible spot. But now, especially after particularly busy shifts in the emergency department, I would shed my clothes and sometimes could barely muster the energy to kick them into the pile.

While I loved almost everything about being a nurse, the one thing I considered the biggest inconvenience was the surplus of dirty laundry it regularly created. It seemed that wearing scrubs five days a week would reduce my laundry pile, but that was not at all my reality. I quickly learned that they were called scrubs for a reason; they needed constantly scrubbing. Every week, I was bound to come home with some kind of disgusting mystery fluid dried up somewhere on my clothing. Hence, nursing was not for those with delicate stomachs.

“No, Lucy,” I said, seeing that she had been just moments away from jumping into my ever-growing pile of colorful and dirty scrubs. “That’s not ladylike at all, you know.”

She tilted her head at me as I slid on my jogging sweatshirt. As I stepped into my running shoes, she excitedly jumped up onto her hind legs, knowing it was finally time to go.

“You certainly lack patience sometimes, girl,” I said, giving her a quick scratch behind the ear. “Okay, let’s go.”

CHAPTER 5

Tessa

Lucy and I began our daily run to the park and back. The evening weather was perfect—there was a comfortable breeze in the air and it was neither too warm or too cool. The only unfortunate thing was that the perfect weather conditions permitted my mind to wander in ways I wished it wouldn’t. And by that, I meant it kept wandering in the direction of Dr. Evan Sholly.

Once again, his delicious features drifted through my mind. Unfortunately, they were also accompanied with Molly’s words regarding my less than satisfactory love life.

She was right. Although I loved Lucy dearly, it would have been nice to occasionally have some company of the human male variety. But I’d been so engulfed in my work, I’d dutifully pushed dating off the menu. While I tried to pretend it didn’t bother me—that my decision to remain single was entirely by choice—I knew that deep down, a part of it was because I was still so scarred from my ex. The heartbreak he’d forced me to endure was part of the reason I had wanted a dog in the first place; I had been desperate to find unconditional love in whatever form I could get it.

Tyler. He had been good looking too, albeit not as hot as Evan Sholly. Nevertheless, I had been so smitten with him that I hadn’t seen, or perhaps had ignored, all the warning signs. Tyler had been very charming in the beginning, showering me with roses and chocolate, romantic dinners, and fun outings. And then suddenly, he began to change.

It started because he hadn’t been supportive of my career ambitions. It had become apparent that he viewed me as the marrying type, but he had also made it quite clear that if we were going to be together, he fully expected me to give up my dreams to instead be a dedicated housewife. Now, I know there’s nothing wrong with being a housewife; raising a family is one of the most important jobs in existence. So many women dedicate their lives to it and I have nothing but respect for them. But that’s just wasn’t the lifestyle I envisioned for myself.

For as long as I could remember, I’ve always wanted to work in the medical field. I was obsessed with hospital-themed television shows and had known since I was a little girl that it was the lifestyle I craved. So when suddenly given an ultimatum between a man and my career, I gladly chose my career.

Of course, the choice became a lot easier when Tyler turned violent about my decision, apparently deciding that he literally wanted to try knocking some sense into me. When it happened the first time, I tried to convince myself it was an accident and he hadn’t meant it. When it happened the second time, I figured he was the problem, not me. He was the one who needed help and I had contemplated whether I needed to stick around to ensure he received it. But then one night, I’d had a dream about my grandmother. It was so vivid. I could practically smell her home—a mixture of baked goods and lavender. We’d been sitting at the dining room table, and she’d been giving me the warm smile she always reserved specifically for her grandchildren. Then she reached across the table, took my hand and said, “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times, then I’m the damned fool.”

When I woke up, I knew without a doubt that she was watching over me and trying to send me a sign. I knew then that I’d most certainly be a fool if I didn’t take her advice. Hence, I broke up with Tyler shortly thereafter.

Oh boy, did he try to win me back. He made every pretty promise in the book—swore he would never lay a hand on me again for as long as he lived. I can still hear his voice pleading with me. “Tessa, baby, I won’t do it again. You know how much I love you. I will never hurt you again, I swear. I swear, baby. I swear. I’m not going to hurt you again, as long as I live.”

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