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So much for her promise to herself to take more chances, to engage in at least one conversation with the doctor a day until it became like an old habit. She was not supposed to hear him coming and take off at full speed in the other direction—only to reverse right into him.

Graceful. Again.

She might have to start wearing a plastic raincoat. Her dry-cleaning bill was ridiculous.

Why, oh, why couldn’t she have half the social skills as Daisy, who was born hardwired with the ability to flirt with anyone, anywhere, anytime? Such as the lifeguard at the neighborhood pool Benny had stared at from behind her book all summer when she was fourteen. Daisy, at a confident and head-turning eighteen, had walked right up to him and started a conversation. Daisy and Scottie had spent the rest of the summer attached at the hip until they both left for college that fall.

Daisy had always been able to do that.

And as much as Benny loved her sister and wanted only her happiness, she couldn’t pretend she hadn’t resented Daisy the tiniest bit growing up. She was only human.

But she couldn’t continue to hate and resent every pretty woman who got the attention of the men that Benny was too tongue-tied to speak to herself. If only she could picture Luke as nonthreatening. Like her brothers. Or Chip the orderly. Or even the detestable Henry Ellison. Then she’d have no problem engaging him in actual dialogue, maybe even a few witty retorts.

Henry Ellison. He’d actually seemed almost likeable tonight with that cute niece who had the same golden-blond hair and brown eyes and that impish smile. Almost…human.

At least she had one thing going for her tonight. With his four-year-old niece in residence, Lover Boy wasn’t likely going to be having late-night parties or playing music at record high levels.

Maybe she’d even get a good night’s sleep before she returned to work tomorrow, ready for more inevitable humiliation.

Chapter Four

“Can we get McDonald’s for breakfast again, Uncle Henry?”

It was six thirty in the morning. On a Saturday. Wasn’t it a law that no one could be up this early?

Apparently, four-year-olds didn’t care much if it was Saturday or any other day of the week. Ella was wide-awake and raring to do something, while Henry needed to pour a full carafe of coffee down his throat before he could consider going anywhere.

“Let’s just have some cereal. We can go there for lunch.”

A few minutes later, with Ella eating Captain Crunch in front of the television and a full cup of coffee flooding Henry’s veins, he decided he was awake enough to get his mail and the package he was expecting.

Last night after he’d picked Ella up from day camp, the two of them had gone to dinner and a movie, arriving home after eight, when he’d had to carry the little girl, half asleep, to bed. Now that the kid was up and preoccupied for the time being, Henry felt better about leaving her alone for a couple of minutes.

The place was dead quiet, as he would expect on a Saturday at the death of dawn, and he was able to catch the elevator back up with no wait. While the floors ticked by, he looked through the mail, his package tucked under his arm.

The letter bearing the building HOA’s name and address caught his eye. It looked awfully official. He ripped it open, barely glancing up when he stepped off the elevator.

Thirty seconds later, he was standing outside the madwoman’s door. He pounded, not caring if she was still asleep.

She opened the door in under a minute, fully dressed in—what else—scrubs, light blue this time. Did she live in those things?

“Mr. Ellison?” She scrunched up her face at him in feigned confusion even though they both knew why he was here. “What can I do for you?”

“Ah, Dr. Sorensen. Terribly sorry to have pulled you out of bed, in pj’s again, no less.”

She narrowed her eyes. “They’re scrubs.”

“Yes, I see that.” He looked behind her, as if expecting to see an operating table. “Are you scrubbing in for surgery in there?”

“What can I help you with,” she managed between clenched teeth.

He held the letter up in front of her, noting the gleam of satisfaction that entered her eyes.

“I received an interesting letter this morning from our home owners’ association. It seems there have been some complaints”—he emphasized the word, watching her face for any sign of guilt, but it was now carefully blank—“about me. Maybe I can read you a little bit of this so you know what I’m talking about. ‘Tenant is in violation of section three, subsection (a), which requires all tenants to cease loud and excessive noise, including music, that interferes in another tenant’s quiet enjoyment of their property.’ Let’s see here… Oh, another good one, ‘tenant is required to park entirely within the borders of the owner’s space or be subject to fine.’”

“Sounds like you have a real problem there.”

“Yes. You could call it a problem. According to this and the monetary fine schedule for said violations, I’m on the hook for six hundred dollars. Not to mention that if there are further complaints, the fine goes up to twelve hundred, followed by possible eviction proceedings. Evicting me from my own home.”


Tags: Ashlee Mallory The Sorensen Family Romance