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I give him a skeptical look. “Why would you want to do that? You must be really tired.”
He stares at me for a moment, his grey eyes soft. “Because I’d like to make up for the horrible welcome you’ve had to St. Lucia. So far, your dream vacation has been a bit of a nightmare. I’d like to fix that so you’ll come back again soon.”
“Do you work for the tourism board on the side?” I ask with a little grin.
Dr. Stone chuckles. “I would if I could make sure all the tourists were like you.” He holds up his car keys. “You coming or not?”
“You’re not some sort of serial killer who’s going to dump my body in the sea, are you?”
“Would I tell you if I were?”
“No, but I figure that I’ll be able to see some signs of it if I ask.”
“So? Any signs of me being a psychopath?”
“Not that I can see.” My stomach rumbles again. “But a girl can never be too careful.”
He leads me to his Jeep, walking slowly beside me as I get used to my crutches. He opens the door for me, then helps me get in, sending waves of warmth through my entire body when he takes my hand. My lady bits now fight my stomach for what my brain should focus on.
“You okay?” he asks when I’m settled in the passenger seat.
“Yes, good, thanks.” I smile at him, then watch as he closes the door and puts my crutches in the back.
“Where to, Miss?” He says as he gets in the driver’s seat.
“The resort is called the Puesta del Sol.” I say in my horrible Spanish accent.
“Oh, that’s where most of our patients come from. That place is wild.” He starts up the engine and pulls out of the parking stall.
“Yeah, I noticed. I didn't exactly research it before I booked. It was cheap and I needed to escape for a while.”
“What were you hoping for?”
“Somewhere quiet to read my way through my Kindle.”
“Ahh, I see.”
We drive in silence for a moment until my stomach speaks up for me.
Dr. Stone looks over at me. “How long has it been since you ate?”
“Airplane food at lunchtime.”
“Yikes. Do you want to stop for something on the way? There’s a diner that serves breakfast all night a few blocks from here, and there’s literally no way I could kill you after we’re seen out in public together.”
“Good point. It would be too risky.” I nod. “Let’s go.”
“Denny’s? They have Denny’s here?”
“Yup. Just opened last year.”
“I can get Moons Over My Hammy! It was my favorite post-drinking meal in college.” I grin excitedly as he makes a right into the parking lot. Trey’s look of disgust pops into my head and my heart drops, realizing I probably should skip the ham and eggs.
A few minutes later we’re seated at a booth across from each other. My leg is propped up and I’m sitting sideways on the soft bench. The waitress, who has a tag that says, ‘I’m Henrietta, Ask Me About Our Free Drink Refills,’ slaps two menus down on the table and says, “Coffee, right?”
Dr. Stone says, “Yes, please. You, Lila?”
“Sure, a decaf, please.”
