Love Chronicles

Struggling for calm, she noticed again that Dr. Forbes was one darn good-looking man, even with that stunned I-didn’t-know-I-had-a-partner expression on his handsome face. His deep green eyes, disheveled, dark brown hair and tall, muscular body made him look like her male fantasy come to life. She even liked his glasses, which gave him a scholarly air, and his rumpled tan corduroy trousers and light blue button-down cotton shirt looked appealing on him.

Then he’d opened his mouth. Choke collar! Ridiculous, New Age mumbo jumbo indeed!

But she’d have to set aside her dislike for the sake of her career goals. Oak Valley was her fresh start, a new chance to make a go of it with her holistic therapy practice. She’d failed in San Francisco. A lot. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—fail again. Seeing the disappointment in her parents’ eyes—again—after their own wild success would be too much to bear.

Besides, until she’d encountered the disagreeable doctor, she’d felt nothing but positive vibes from Oak Valley. This had to be the place. Her thirtieth birthday was coming up fast. And Robbie was already married. She needed an anchor, and she hoped she’d find one here in Oak Valley.

The doctor finally spoke. “Look, I don’t know what kind of arrangement you made with my father, but I’m not in the market for a partner. Especially not one into holistic healing.” He rolled his eyes. “What was he thinking, anyway?”

She clenched her jaw, her hopes sliding; then she shoved her chin in the air, refusing to let this man mess up her dream. “He was looking to add a fresh dimension to this practice, which it looks like you need.” She crossed her arms over her chest and drilled him with a hard look. “What have you got against what I do?”

He pierced her with his gaze. “What I do is based on science, period. Anything else is of no use to me.”

She stepped forward, annoyed by his negative, judgmental attitude. She pointed at him. “So let me get this straight. You think what I do is totally useless?”

He nodded without hesitation. “Pretty much.”

She told herself she shouldn’t be surprised. She’d known attitudes would be different outside of San Francisco. But she’d come here with Dr. Brady Forbes’s blessing and hadn’t expected to run into such opposition from his son.

Even though she wanted to scream at the stubborn doctor, she tried to focus on the positive. She managed a tight little smile. “Well, then I guess I’ll just have to change your mind, won’t I?”

He didn’t smile back. “I’m afraid that’s a waste of time, Ms. Williams,” he said, taking off his glasses. “I have no intention of having you, or anybody else, as my partner. I’m sorry you came all this way to find that out, but I’m the Dr. Forbes in charge now, not my father, and I wasn’t in on this deal. I don’t feel obligated to honor it.”

Sunny stared at him, wishing he didn’t attract her so much on the outside when, on the inside, where it really mattered, he was a walking billboard for the uptight, repressed and uninformed.

She switched gears to the really bad news. Her dream of starting over and finally succeeding in business in this wonderful little town was suddenly in jeopardy.

This infuriating man was refusing to work with her. He probably didn’t have a clue about working with anyone but himself, about nurturing a relationship, business or otherwise.

She remembered something his father had told her, and recalled the words she’d seen painted on the window of this office when she’d pulled Rufus off the glass. A thought occurred to her. She gazed speculatively at the doctor, grimly holding her frustration at bay in favor of finding a way to make this work. She needed this job, needed to live in this town and be married by her thirtieth birthday, needed to succeed. “So are you the new Mr. Commitment?”

He rolled his eyes and nodded, then let out a disgusted sound. “Yeah.”

She raised a brow, pretty sure she was now coming at this problem from the right angle. “You don’t sound too happy about that.”

“I’m a medical doctor, not a relationship counselor.”

“So you don’t think you’re qualified? Is that it?” she pressed, leaning closer, catching a vague whiff of his clean, soapy scent. Her breath caught in her throat.

He scowled at her. “What’s with all the questions?”

“Hear me out,” she said, holding out a hand. “You don’t think you’re qualified to be a relationship counselor, right?”

He lifted a broad shoulder. “I guess you could say that. I’m the last person who should be helping people mend their relationships.” Turning away, he opened a fat file on the counter. “My track record stinks,” he muttered under his breath.

Sunny assumed he was talking about his relationships. No surprise there. The man appeared to have the warmth of a rock and not a compassionate bone in his body. Luckily, she found that information about his past fascinating—and useful, exactly the ammunition she needed.

Unable to corral her need to understand her adversary, she asked, “Why are you here if you’re so unqualified to be Mr. Commitment? Why not take a job somewhere else?”

He swung his darkening gaze her way. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I agreed to come home and take over for my dad years ago, back when Mr. Commitment didn’t exist. I had no idea that I’d be required to hold my patients’ hands regarding their relationship issues. Believe me, if I’d had any idea, I never would have agreed.”

“Then you need me.”

He crossed his arms across his broad chest again. “Oh, really?” he said, his voice rife with amusement.

She gave a quick nod, unwilling to let his bad attitude back her down. “Really. I have a knack for helping people with problems. Maybe we should make a deal—my relationship expertise in exchange for a partnership.”

He let out a heavy breath and abruptly flipped the file on the counter closed. “No deal, Ms. Williams. I don’t need help with Mr. Commitment that badly.” He straightened and inclined his head. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a patient in a few minutes.” With that, he exited the waiting room through a door in back of the counter, leaving Sunny alone.

And desperate. She’d been counting on this job to prove to herself, and to her parents, that she could make a success doing what she loved. Not to mention that she was dead broke. She needed this job for so many reasons, and she really wanted to stay in Oak Valley and settle down.

The need for the commitment and stability she’d never had growing up still burned inside of her like a smoldering fire, impossible to put out or ignore.

Besides, a pact was a pact.

But one man had torn up her dreams with his highly questionable bedside manner—what a grump!—and my-way-or-the-highway beliefs about healing. Uptight Connor Forbes claimed he didn’t have any use for a partner.

A tight knot formed in her chest. She had to think of a way to change his mind.

Maybe a cup of herbal tea and a bagel were what she needed to maintain an even keel during this unexpected, upsetting crisis. It was a cool morning, even though the sun was shining. Rufus would be fine if she put him in the van for an hour or so, especially since she’d parked in the shade.

With a sigh, she picked up her bag and headed out the door, hoping Oak Valley had a restaurant open for breakfast. She simply needed time to figure out how to deal with Doctor Disagreeable’s rejection.

She laughed humorlessly under her breath, feeling the fool. Her reliable instincts told her there wasn’t enough herbal tea in the world to help her change the stubborn, absolutely annoying man’s mind.

Talk about an awkward situation, Connor thought. Gorgeous female massage therapist/yoga instructor unexpectedly shows up at his father’s behest, expecting to be Connor’s partner, nosing her way into his business. He might want to be her partner in other things—she’d smelled, and looked, really good—and a little feminine companionship sounded great.

But his business partner? No way. Even though he wasn’t the type of guy who wanted to make a pretty girl sad, he’d find a way to live with that.

He shook his head and sat down behind his oak desk. Damn his father for arranging something so outrageous without his approval. It was bad enough Dad was demanding that Connor take the dubious title of Mr. Commitment. Now he was making business deals with medically unqualified people. What was the old guy thinking?

Connor shoved his reading glasses in his lab coat pocket and pushed his irritation with his dad aside in favor of the controlled, professional attitude he always strived for when he was with patients. He proceeded with his day and saw two patients, Margery Leventhal, who had vague stomach complaints that turned out to be simple gas, and Jeb Hornsby, whose gout was acting up.

Connor then took his usual morning break and strolled down the boardwalk to Luella’s Diner for a doughnut and coffee. On the way, he lifted a hand to Lester Parsons and Ozzie Peterson, two retirees who were sitting at their usual morning spot on a bench in front of Jeremiah’s Barber Shop across the street. He smiled at Abigail McNeil, out walking her basset hound, and greeted Frank Osbourne, the local contractor, who was loading his pickup with building supplies outside Truman’s Hardware Store.

Connor shook his head. A man couldn’t burp in Oak Valley without the whole town knowing it. After living in a big city like Seattle, he’d expected to feel stifled here, and that had proven true. He liked the people of Oak Valley well enough, but everyone had always bugged him to loosen up. If things worked out the way he’d planned, he wouldn’t have to stay here forever.

A few minutes later, Connor stepped into Luella’s, enjoying the usual aroma of sizzling bacon, fresh brewed coffee and fried doughnuts. Luella’s place had looked the same since Connor was a kid and his parents had brought him and his siblings here for Sunday breakfast. The quaint eatery boasted rustic tables and booths with high backs, white paper placemats, red-and-white checked curtains and a long counter with worn wooden stools.

As she did every day, Luella’s daughter, Mary-Jean, waved to him from the kitchen, visible through the cutout wall behind the counter. He smiled halfway and waved back. She was always so friendly to him. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why—he had said only a handful of words to her.

He noticed Steve McCarthy, an old high school classmate, sitting in a back booth, enjoying a cup of coffee with his sister, Julie, who’d married Bud Whitesell, the owner of the local garage. Connor waved at them and then went to sit in the third booth from the door, his usual spot. He looked forward to a cup of hot coffee and a sinfully fattening doughnut. He’d think about anything but Sunny Williams.

Just as that idea ran through his brain, he saw the subject of his thoughts sitting in his booth, a cup of tea and a half-eaten bagel in front of her, talking animatedly to, of all people, his own sister, Jennifer.

He raised his brows. Sunny had certainly made friends quickly. Obviously, she was the outgoing, friendly type. She would probably fit in with his sociable family perfectly. He gritted his teeth.

Despite the fact that he was irritated she was in his booth, he couldn’t help but appreciate her beautiful skin, delicate bone structure and flashing brown eyes all over again. And her shiny pink lips, pulled into a broad, appealing smile, exposing straight, white teeth, made his insides burn.