But she’d been serious when she’d told them she wanted to step off the dating-go-round. Going out with a new guy was not only a huge time suck but an emotional roller coaster, as well. She’d really liked Larry. He was smart, funny and insanely handsome. Although she knew some women might embrace the whips-and-chains thing, she wasn’t one of them.
So here she was, after two months, back to square one. She only wished Larry had made his proclivities known on the first few dates. The mistake she’d made was trying to take things slow. If she’d considered sleeping with him early on, this would have come out and they could have gone their separate ways sooner.
Perhaps with the next guy, she should consider tossing aside her old-fashioned morals and jump in the sack right away. Of course, she reminded herself, that was a moot point because she didn’t have any plans to date. At least not anytime soon. Perhaps she’d even take the rest of the year off.
Yes, that would be best. Focus on continuing to grow her ob-gyn practice. Spend more time with Sasha. Perhaps even work on making the town house she’d bought late last year feel more like a home.
Michelle eased the car into the garage. Just before the door lowered, she saw a red vehicle pull into the adjacent driveway. She barely got a glimpse of it before her overhead door shut. It seemed the new owners had finally arrived.
The rumor around the neighborhood was a young couple from out of state had purchased the unit next to her. Michelle only hoped they were quiet. She put in long hours at her medical practice. With only two doctors and a nurse-midwife, she got called out often, at all hours of the day and night. When she was home she needed her sleep.
Perhaps she’d have to find a way to mention that to the new owners. Just so they understood—
Michelle shut the thought off before it could fully form. Egad, what was she? Eighty? Before long she’d be complaining about the children running through her flower beds. If she had flower beds. And if there were any children in the upscale neighborhood of young professionals to run through them.
After heading inside and changing into a pair of shorts and a hot-pink T-shirt, Michelle clamped the leash onto the collar of her golden retriever and took the dog for a run.
By the time they returned, it was almost dinnertime and her neighbor stood outside washing his truck. As she and Sasha drew close, she realized with a start that he was the man from the coffee shop. Only this time she could see that his face was as delectable as his backside.
Tall. Dark. Handsome. Something told her he had a petite blonde wife who doted on her husband’s every word. Those kind always did.
Still, Michelle slowed her steps as they reached the driveway. She remembered well the kindness of the neighbors when she’d first moved in and it was time to pay that forward.
“Hi.” She stopped a few feet from him and extended her hand. “I’m Michelle Kerns. I live next door. Welcome to the neighborhood.”
He looked down for a heartbeat, took off the soapy mitt he’d been using before taking her hand in his. “Gabe Davis. Pleased to meet you.”
Electricity shot up her arm. She jerked her hand back in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner.
Her new neighbor had charisma with a capital C and the looks to go with it. His eyes were an amber color, his hair a rich coffee-brown. Other than a slight bump on his nose, his features were classically handsome.
Michelle ran her hand across the shiny red fender of his truck, the water rippling beneath her fingers. “What brought you all the way from Pennsylvania?”
He stepped close and the spicy scent of his cologne teased her nostrils. But his gaze remained riveted to her hand, caressing the sleek paint. He cleared his throat. “How did you know we were from there?”
“Your license plate was my first clue.” Michelle pulled back her hand. His eyes had turned dark and intense. She could read the signs. He didn’t appreciate her touching his truck but was too polite to say so.
“Of course.” He lifted his gaze and raked a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “It’s been a long day.”
Then he smiled.
Michelle felt something stir inside her at the slightly crooked grin. Mrs. Davis was a lucky woman.
She glanced toward the house. “Is your wife inside?”
His brows pulled together in puzzlement. “I’m not married.”
“For some reason a rumor was going around the neighborhood that a couple was moving in.” Michelle stumbled over the words.
“Nope. Just me and Finley.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Daughter.” The smile returned to his lips. “She’s inside unpacking. At least that’s what she’s supposed to be doing. At thirteen, they’re easily distracted.”
Michelle heard affection in his tone. And fatherly pride.
Thirteen. Chrissy, Ed’s oldest daughter, had been thirteen when they married. A knot formed in her stomach.
“Those are…interesting years,” she managed to mutter when she saw he was waiting for a response.
“Tell me about it.” He chuckled. “You have kids?”
“No,” she said. “No husband. No children. Just Sasha.”
Her gaze dropped to the dog who sat at her feet, tail thumping.
Gabe crouched down and held out a hand to the retriever. “Hey, girl.”
Sasha sniffed his fingers and her tail picked up speed.
“Nice golden.” The man scratched behind the dog’s ears. “Finley and I used to have one.”
“Used to?”
“Buttercup passed away.” At her questioning look, Gabe continued. “She died of cancer last year.”
“I’m sorry.” Michelle couldn’t imagine losing Sasha. “That must have been hard on both of you.”
Gabe nodded, then shifted his gaze back to the dog. “Tell me about Sasha.”
“She’s a purebred,” Michelle said as proudly as if she was introducing him to her child. “She’s three.”
In fact, she’d picked up Sasha the day her divorce was final. The golden bundle of love at her feet had gotten her through the toughest period in her life. Now she couldn’t imagine her world without Sasha in it.
His hands moved along the dog’s ribs. A frown furrowed his brow. “Has she always been this thin?”
Michelle’s smile faded. “What do you mean?”
“I can feel her ribs.”
“Dogs aren’t meant to be fat,” she murmured even as a chill traveled up her spine. She’d always had to watch Sasha’s weight. Being too thin had never been an issue.
“You should have a vet take a look at her.”
“You think she could be sick?” She pushed the words past her lips. “Like your dog?”
“All I know is Buttercup started losing weight and we didn’t notice it at first. When we did, it was summer and we thought it was no big deal, just her eating less because of the heat.” He paused, as if considering how much to say. “Later—too late—we learned golden retrievers are prone to lymphoma. Early diagnosis is critical for survival.”
Fear, heart-stopping fear, sluiced through Michelle’s veins quickly followed by a healthy dose of self-directed anger. She