He looked at the freckles that dusted her nose.
He could imagine her walking dogs. And believing in Santa.
“If dog walking is your livelihood, you might want to steer clear of stilettos in the future.”
“Yes, it was a stupid idea. A whim. I’ve been trying to do things I don’t normally do, and—” She broke off and shook her head. “You don’t need to hear this. You’re busy and I’m taking up your time. Thank you for everything.”
This one patient had thanked him more in the past five minutes than he’d been thanked in the past five weeks from all his other patients combined.
Not only that, but she hadn’t questioned his clinical judgment.
Ethan, who was never surprised by a patient, was surprised.
And intrigued.
He wanted to ask why she’d been trying to do things she wouldn’t normally do. Why she’d chosen to wear stilettos. Why she’d had dinner with a man she’d met online.
Instead he kept it professional. He talked to her about rest, ice, compression and elevation, the whole time feeling guilty that he’d doubted her.
He wondered when, exactly, he’d started being so suspicious of human nature.
He definitely needed a vacation.
CHAPTER THREE
“IT WAS THE worst evening of my life. I need a do-over.” Harriet eased her injured ankle onto the sofa as she talked to her sister on the phone. “And to cap it all I ended up in the emergency room, where Dr. Hot-but-Disapproving obviously decided I was a hooker.” She could still see the wary look on his face, as if he wasn’t sure whether her career choice was entirely savory.
On days when she had her arms full of slobbery dogs, she wondered that herself.
“He was hot? Tell me more.”
“Seriously? I tell you I met up with creepy stalker guy and jumped from a window into a Dumpster and the only part you want to talk about is the doctor in the emergency room?”
“If he was hot, yes. Did you ask him on a date?”
For someone who claimed not to be interested in romance, her twin thought a lot about men.
“No, I did not ask him on a date.”
“I thought you were trying to challenge yourself.”
“I have limits. Hitting on a doctor who is treating me in the emergency room is one of them.”
“You should have grabbed him and landed a smacker on his lips.”
Harriet imagined the horror on his face. “And then I would have been calling you from a cell where the NYPD locked me up overnight for assault. Wait—are you laughing?”
“Maybe. A little.” Fliss choked. “Is t
here footage of the whole window episode? I’d love to see it.”
“I hope there isn’t, because it’s not something I want to relive.” The painful throb of her ankle was all the reminder she needed. That and the steady hum of embarrassment that grew louder whenever she thought back to that moment in the hospital.
“I’m proud of you!”
“Why?”
“Because it’s so not you.”