Love On Anchor Island: An Anchor Island Novel Page 6

Thankfully, Flora had ordered extra.

  Once Alex was ready for the first child, he gave Helga the word and waited. To his surprise, Roxie walked through the door.

  “Hey, sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize you were doing the shots in here.”

  Despite the embarrassing amount of times he’d peered out of his windows hoping to catch a glimpse of her, Alex hadn’t seen Roxie since he’d driven her home earlier in the week. Wednesday morning he’d seen her headed out for a jog but couldn’t think of a good enough excuse to suddenly need to be outside.

  “This is where Helga put me,” Alex answered, sounding like a complete idiot. “I thought the repairs were finished. Are you working here?”

  Roxie stepped past his makeshift medical station to reach the closest refrigerator. “I’m just volunteering today. Two of Helga’s regular helpers are out sick.”

  This really was going around. “You aren’t worried about catching the flu?”

  She twisted the cap off a bottle of water. “I don’t get sick. My grandmother once said it’s because I ate dirt as a child. I guess that’s good for your immune system.”

  Alex blinked in amazement. “No. No, it isn’t.”

  His correction didn’t seem to bother her. “Whatever the reason, germs leave me alone.”

  “You can get a flu shot today if you’re interested. I have plenty.”

  “Nope,” she replied. “I don’t do needles.”

  Her sleeves were pushed up, and he noticed the ink on the inside of her left wrist. “You don’t do needles, but you have a tattoo?”

  “I have three tattoos,” she corrected. “But they aren’t the same.”

  A needle was a needle, but before Alex could argue, Helga brought in his first patient. “This won’t hurt a bit,” she lied to the child, who looked ready to run.

  “Hi there, Daniel,” Alex greeted the little boy. Nearly every child on the island came to the Fielding Family Practice at some point, and Alex knew this one was timid. “Come have a seat right here,” he said, tapping the chair in front of him. “Let’s talk.”

  “Just talk?” the boy asked.

  Roxie caught his eye with an expression that said don’t lie to him.

  “Come on and sit,” he repeated, ignoring the question.

  The four-year-old came closer but avoided the chair. “I don’t want a poke.”

  This was easier at the office when the parents served as a reassuring presence.

  “How about if you sit on my lap?” Roxie offered, dropping into the chair. “I’ll make sure the doc behaves himself.”

  Daniel looked from Roxie to Alex and back before nodding. “Okay,” he said, and let Roxie lift him onto her knee. “Mama said you gave Gigi a poke, and she cried all night.”

  The boy’s baby sister had gotten her four-month shots the week before.

  “Today won’t be anything like what Gigi got,” he assured him. “But you need to have this one little shot today so that you don’t get sick and then give it to her. She isn’t as strong as you are.”

  His bottom lip puckered out. “I don’t want a poke.”

  There was a reason Alex hadn’t gone into pediatrics.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” Roxie said, bouncing her knees. “Doc will poke me first, and you can see that it’s super easy.” Locking eyes with Alex, she added, “Make it quick. I know where you live.”

  Just as he’d thought. There was a mushy center under all that black leather.

  “It’ll be over before you know I was there.”

  “That’s what she said,” Roxie mumbled, and Alex nearly vaccinated the plastic chair. Eyes straight ahead, she said, “You walked into that one.”

  “Yes, I did.” With the little boy watching, he administered the shot and applied a Peppa Pig Band-Aid as reward for her bravery. “That wasn’t so bad, right?”

  Wide brown eyes turned his way. “It’s over?”

  “It is.”

  “You didn’t even cry,” Daniel said.

  “I didn’t even feel it,” Roxie replied with a bright smile. “You can totally do this.”

  Suspicion still lingered in the dark-blue eyes, but he pushed his sleeve up. “Real quick, right? Just like Miss Roxie’s.”

  Alex opened a new alcohol swab before reaching for the fresh needle. “Yes, sir.”

  Roxie held his other hand as Daniel tightly closed his eyes. “I’m ready.”

  With a few swift movements, the shot was in and the Band-Aid in place, this time featuring Chase from Paw Patrol. “All done,” Alex said.

  The boy’s eyes popped open, and he pulled out of Roxie’s grasp to rub his arm. “That hurted.”

  “But not bad, right?” Alex asked, thankful there were no tears.

  “I guess not.” Daniel climbed down off Roxie’s lap. “Can I go play now?”

  “You may.” Not needing to be told twice, the toddler tore from the room, his battle scar forgotten. Alex disposed of the used needles and his gloves. “That was pretty brave of you.”

  She dismissed his words. “Daniel is the brave one. All I did was take the first hit.”

  “But you said you don’t do needles,” he reminded her.

  Roxie rose to her feet. “I guess it depends on who is holding the needle.” Rubbing the bandage much like Daniel had, she said, “If this shit gives me the flu, I’m going to be pissed.”

  “That’s a myth, though you could have some side effects. Achy muscles or a slight fever. They shouldn’t last long.”

  She pinned him with a glare. “You tell me this now?”

  “Would you have changed your mind if I’d told you before?”

  “No, but I still deserved to know.” Retrieving the water bottle from where she’d left it on the table, she asked, “How’s Callie? I assume I’d have heard by now if the twins were here.”

  To Alex’s relief, the babies were staying put, and their mother was behaving. “She’s good. Growing more uncomfortable by the day, but there’s no getting around that. Two more weeks and we’ll be on safer ground. Three would be better.”

  Lips pursed, she tapped the side of her bottle and started to speak but changed her mind. “I’d better go.”

  “What were you going to say?” he asked, happy to keep her talking a little longer.

  “It was a nosy question. Never mind.”

  “Wait.” Alex reached for her as she stepped away, and Roxie glanced down to their clasped hands without pulling away. “What’s the question?”

  Breaking contact, she put more space between them. Whatever walls he’d managed to scale in this brief exchange snapped right back into place. “I was going to ask if you heard from your dad again, but that’s none of my business.”

  Alex had made it her business the moment he’d confided in her. “No, he hasn’t called back, but I doubt he’s given up.” In fact, he was mostly likely behind the call from Tanner two days ago, who’d made the same argument and listened to Alex’s answer about as well. “Will you have dinner with me?” he asked, surprising himself as much as Roxie. He hadn’t planned to ask her out, but at the same time, he couldn’t think of anything else he wanted to do more.

  Watching him with the same suspicious expression Daniel had worn earlier, she said, “Why should I do that?”

  “Why shouldn’t you?”

  He could almost see the wheels turning in her mind. Weighing the options. Debating whether to trust him or not. Alex knew enough to understand that she’d been let down by nearly everyone who was supposed to love and support her. Roxie’s skepticism was well earned.

  “When?” she replied.

  Good question. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I’m free tonight.”

  With a twinkle in her eye, she said, “You ask a girl out at the last minute and assume that she’s free?”

  Her playful side was going to be the death of him. “Are you?”

  “Of course I am. What time?”

  “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

 
; She shook her head. “Try again. I’ll starve by then.”

  This one would definitely keep him on his toes. “Six?”

  “Five thirty,” she said. “I like steak.”

  “Deal,” he said, feeling as if he’d survived a high-stakes business negotiation.

  Roxie offered a promising smile from the doorway. “This is just a friendly dinner, right?”

  “Not for me, it isn’t,” he replied honestly. Before she could respond, Helga brought in another patient, which put an end to their conversation, but Alex would never forget the look on her face when she walked out.

  That had not gone as expected. If someone had told Roxie twenty minutes ago that she’d get a flu shot and a date before lunchtime, she’d have told them to go to hell. And yet, here she was with an aching arm and dinner plans.

  “Hey, Roxie,” said Sid Dempsey from just inside the center entrance. Daughter Pilar stood by her side. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m helping out,” she answered. “A couple of the regulars have the crud that’s going around.”

  Sid squinted at Roxie’s arm. “I’m guessing you’ve protected yourself against the same fate?”

  “I have. Did you just get here?”

  Pilar was trying to remove her coat, and Sid tugged a sleeve in assistance. “Yeah. Running late, as usual.” Sid tugged a little too hard, and the coat went flying. “Fried pickles and mustard,” she mumbled while retrieving the garment.

  According to Beth, Sid Dempsey—originally Navarro—had once possessed the foulest mouth in the Outer Banks. Considering the vast number of fishermen and old sailors in the area, that was saying something. And then she’d become a mom and by two years old, Pilar’s vocabulary had been disturbingly colorful for a child her age. Three years later, Sid’s language was significantly cleaner. And comical. Nearly every curse had an innocent alternative, and some were quite inventive.

  “Need some help?” Roxie offered. This was her job after all. Attendee check-in.

  “We’ve got it.” Sid handed the coat to Pilar. “Put that on your peg. You know which one it is.”

  The four-year-old followed the order without argument, walking straight to the sixth peg from the left. Once the coat was properly hung, she returned to her mother, clasped her hands in front of her, and smiled up at Roxie. The stark contrast between hazel eyes and dark hair made her stand out in a crowd, yet the quiet demeanor said she was happy to blend in.

  Though opposites in every way, and a year apart, Mary Ann and Pilar were an inseparable duo.

  “Your cousin is in the big playroom,” Roxie said with a nod.

  “Thank you,” she said and looked up to her mother. “Can I go?”

  “Have at it, girlfriend.” Pilar skipped to the playroom. Oh, to be that carefree. “I’ve got a stubborn Yamaha outboard giving me fits,” Sid informed Roxie while adding her daughter’s name to the sign-in sheet, “and an impatient owner who wants it back. If I don’t get it done in time, Lucas will be here to pick her up.” Keys in hand, she turned and walked straight into Henri.

  “Whoa,” said the blonde, gripping Sid’s arms to keep from plowing her over. “Sorry about that.”

  “My fault,” Sid said as Connor dashed around her. “I’ve gotta run, but I’ll see you ladies at Callie’s shower on Sunday. Thanks again, Roxie.”

  The door clicked shut behind the boat mechanic, and Connor disappeared into the playroom, leaving Henri and Roxie alone at the check-in stand.

  “So much for goodbyes,” she said, setting a small backpack and a yellow jacket along the wall with the other kids’ things. “Is that Dr. Fielding’s car I saw outside?”

  “Does it look like a toy car?” Roxie asked.

  “The Prius, yeah.”

  “He’s here giving out flu shots.”

  Henri pointed at Roxie’s arm. “I see he got you.”

  “Yes,” she confirmed. “His first patient was reluctant, so I took one for the team and let little Daniel see how painless it is.”

  Her brows arched. “Is it?”

  “Nope.”

  As if his ears were burning, Alex stuck his head out of the break room. “Have you seen Helga?” he asked. “She went to get the next child and didn’t come back.”

  “I’ll find her,” Roxie replied.

  He lingered in the doorway with a goofy grin on his face, not taking his eyes off of her.

  “Hello, Doctor,” Henri said. Alex startled as if he hadn’t noticed anyone else was in the room. “You seem a bit distracted.”

  “A little,” he replied, the smile widening. “Let Helga know I’m ready when she is.”

  Ignoring the flutter in her stomach, Roxie said, “Will do.”

  As soon as he was out of sight, Henri leaned on the stand and said, “Spill.”

  Of course, she had to witness the embarrassing exchange.

  “There’s nothing to spill.”

  “The most eligible bachelor on this island just gave you googly eyes. There is definitely something to spill.”

  Checking her surroundings to make sure no one could overhear, she said, “We’re having dinner tonight.”

  “And what happened to your man diet?”

  “It’s only dinner.”

  “With a man.”

  “Yes.”

  Henri stood and made a whistling sound. “You are so falling off the wagon.”

  Roxie was doing no such thing. “I am firmly on the wagon, thank you very much. One dinner doesn’t mean anything.”

  “One dinner leads to two, and before you know it, that wagon is a mattress.”

  After an awkward pause, Roxie said, “Can we let this metaphor go now?”

  “Yeah,” Henri agreed. “That was a step too far. Anyway, I expect to hear all the juicy details at the shower.”

  “There won’t be anything to tell.” She’d learned a hard lesson in the last few months. Forgetting it would take more than a sexy smile and a minor case of butterflies.

  “You never know,” she cooed as she sashayed out the door.

  Roxie knew. She knew how to find trouble, and for once in her life she was going to stay the hell out of it.

  Chapter Seven

  Stepping onto the Dempsey’s front porch, Alex took a deep breath to allay the nerves and knocked on the door. The barking started immediately, low and menacing as always. So long as Dozer was around, this family would never need an alarm system.

  Someone yelled, “Chill out, Doze,” from the other side of the door seconds before Roxie opened it. “Hi,” she said, joining him on the porch.

  She wore the trademark leather jacket, but underneath was a muted pink top cut low enough at the neckline to make his heart skip a beat. The dark hair was swept to one side, and the black jeans featured several slits down the legs.

  “You’re wearing color,” he said, which was not the greeting he’d planned.

  Roxie glanced down and opened her jacket wide. “I own a few pieces that aren’t funeral-wear.”

  If she looked this good in the rest of them, a funeral would be in order. His.

  “I like it.” An understatement, but his brain wasn’t fully functioning at the moment. “Are you ready to eat?”

  “Yes. That PB and J I had for lunch wore off a long time ago.”

  “Good, because dinner is ready.” Alex took her hand to lead her off the porch and into his yard.

  “How could the food be ready when we haven’t gotten to the restaurant yet?”

  Pulling her toward his own porch, he asked, “Who said anything about a restaurant?”

  She froze, tugging her hand from his grip. “You asked me out to dinner. That means out to dinner.”

  Here’s where he had her on a technicality. “I asked you to have dinner with me. I never said anything about going out.”

  Roxie spun on her heels. “Motherfu—”

  “Hold on.” Alex cut off her path. “There are two perfectly cooked New York Strip steaks, cheesy baked asparagus, a
nd rosemary roasted potatoes waiting for us in my house. Along with an excellent Cabernet Sauvignon, and a classic cheesecake if we have room. All you have to do is come in, enjoy the food, talk a bit, and then leave whenever you’re ready. Nothing more.”

  Jaw tight, she crossed her arms. “I dressed to go out.”

  “With me,” he clarified. “And I think you look beautiful.”

  Eyes hard, she said, “I don’t like games, Doc.”

  Alex held up his hands. “No games. Just dinner.”

  Toe tapping, she kept him waiting long enough to break a sweat.

  “All right, but I’m taking home whatever’s left of the cheesecake.”

  One cheesecake for an evening of her time wasn’t a bad trade. “Fair enough.”

  When they stepped inside, he said, “The house is through the door on your right.”

  Ignoring him, she stood in the reception area of the practice. “This doesn’t look like a doctor’s office.”

  Intended or not, he took that as compliment. “My grandmother has a similar practice, and I used her office as inspiration.”

  “Your grandmother is a doctor?”

  “She is.” Alex opened the door to his private part of the house and waited for her to step through. “My grandparents live in Tunkhannock, Pennsylvania, not far from the Poconos. Can I take your coat?”

  “Yeah, thanks.” Roxie slid the jacket down her arms to reveal bare shoulders above flowing sleeves.

  Alex’s mouth went dry as he hung the coat on the rack inside the door and reminded himself that this was a dinner-only date.

  “You can go ahead up,” he said, gesturing for her to take the stairs first.

  At the top landing, she stepped into his kitchen and stopped. “You live here?” she asked.

  A strange question. “I do,” he replied, stepping around her. “This is the kitchen, obviously. I don’t have a formal dining room, but the breakfast nook works well enough.” Alex pointed to the square table at the right end of the room. “The living room is to the left, and I’m assuming you’re not interested in the bedrooms right now.”

  Still standing at the top of the stairs, she looked around with wide eyes. “This is nice.”

  He liked his house but never considered it that impressive. “Thank you?”