Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Was Dunn trying to tell me not to get my hopes up? Or was he worried that I didn’t want him to get his hopes up?
I wasn’t sure when I stopped being able to predict and understand every thought that ran through Dunn’s head, but I was pretty sure it was around the time his tongue first entered my mouth. And while I didn’t want things to go back to the way they had been—heck, no—I also did not enjoy the way things currently were. It felt like the place we communicated best these days was in bed—or the shower, or the couch, or against the desk in my office—where words weren’t necessary.
We strolled down Walnut Street toward the cafe. I wanted really badly to hold his hand again, but I couldn’t, so I took out my phone and looked over my calendar for the day.
“So, whatcha got planned after coffee, Dr. Wright?”
“Pretty full docket today,” I informed him. “Lots of patients.”
“You maybe free for lunch? I feel like I might have a sore throat you should look at.” Dunn made a hacking whistle, like Bernadette when she had a cold.
“That sounds… frankly terrifying—”
Dunn laughed.
“But I can’t. Today’s my lunch with Dr. Petersmith.”
“And Carter.”
I snickered. Was it petty that I loved how he said Carter’s name like the man was the antichrist and not an insanely wealthy twentieth-generation doctor from Belle Mead? Maybe so, but I didn’t care. “Yes, and Carter. We’re just catching up.”
“Hmm.”
I narrowed my eyes and looked over at him. “What’s hmm mean? It’s just a lunch.”
“A lunch about you taking a job.” Dunn hunched and put his hands in his pockets.
“About me not taking a job.”
Dunn hesitated. “Thought Carter said it’d be more money. And, like… prestige and whatnot.”
I shrugged. “Eh. I suppose it would.” Prestige among a certain set, anyway. Like the Belle Mead Rogers. Not so much here in the Thicket.
Another hesitation. “And you’re really not even gonna consider it? Why?”
I blinked. “At the risk of stating the obvious… because the job is at Vanderbilt, which is located in Nashville, while my boyfriend owns a dairy farm, which is located in Licking Thicket.”
I waited a second for Dunn to agree that this was a nonstarter.
He did not.
Instead, his mouth twisted to one side like he was thinking about something awfully hard.
“I mean…” I chuckled lightly. “You don’t want me to take the job, do you?” He couldn’t possibly. Hell, even before we’d become lovers, the separation had been a nonstarter. Dunn was my person. But now?
“Not exactly. I mean…” Dunn licked his lips and gave me another one of those looks I couldn’t read, damn it. “I mean, unless you wanted to? I’d definitely want you to do it, Tuck, if you wanted to.”
My fingertips felt weirdly tingly.
“But… you live here,” I said yet again, certain there was some disconnect happening, but unsure where.
“Yeah, I know,” he said in a really resigned way.
I shook my head quickly to clear it. Was I crazy? Was he? Were we speaking different dialects of the same language? “Well, to be perfectly clear, I’m not flipping taking it, okay?”
“Yeesh. Okay.” Dunn held up his hands. “Fine.”
“Good Lord. What the heck are we even—” fighting about, I started to say.
But Dunn interrupted. “Oh my stars and garters. Is today the fourth?”
“Ah…” I glanced down at my phone screen. “Yep.”
“April fourth?” he asked, with that adorable little wrinkle he got over his eyebrows.
“Yes. Why?”
Dunn stared at me. “Why? Because it’s April fourth, Tucker!”
I threw both hands up in the air, convinced we’d have understood each other better if we started playing charades. “So?”
“So? It’s the Entwinin’! Today. And I’ve been so distracted, I haven’t even made plans!”
“Oh.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, unable to stop my relieved grin. “I forgot that was today. Probably since I never actually, um… did the whole wreath-making thing before.”
“I know.” Dunn’s mouth twitched up in a little smile that made me light-headed in the best possible way. “I’ve seen your attempts at tying clinch knots, Tuck, it’s fine. You stick to the crosswords and the doctoring. I’ll do the wreathing.”
“Hey!” I grinned and smacked his arm lightly. “I’ll have you know I totally could make a wreath. Probably.”
Dunn laughed out loud.
“I just haven’t had any reason to try in the past.” And, honestly, I’d always worried my heart would be in my eyes while I gave Dunn his wreath, or that maybe I’d be unable to stop at “Happy Entwinin’” and would accidentally blurt out, “Please have babies with me.” Now, though? “In the future, I guess I will,” I added.
Dunn smiled warmly, clearly pleased, and my stomach settled because we were back on track. Finally.
And then Dunn threw his arm over my shoulder.
“We can head over to the Italian place tonight. I heard they’re doing a special Entwinin’ dinn—” he began.