Dating Dr. Dreamy - Lili Valente Page 0,16

making my dreams come true.

I’ve always felt like I owed him for that, at least a card every Christmas and birthday, and lunch every now and then.

But now…

Well, it’s obvious he cares even less for me than he used to. I succeeded when he promised I would fail, and he’s hateful enough to resent me for making something of my life. He did his best to make our first conversation in four years as miserable and antagonistic as possible, for God’s sake.

Any pretense of family feeling between us is gone. It’s time for me to move on, to move forward toward a better life.

With Lark.

I’m going to win her back. I’ll prove Parker wrong about that the same way I’ve proven him wrong about everything else.

Head on straight once more, I hitch the little fishing boat to the back of my car and pull down the gravel driveway without a glance in the rearview.

It’s too dusty to see much, and I’m done looking back.

Chapter 7

Mason

Date Two

I pull up to the curb outside Lark’s parent’s house at three p.m. on the dot, heart lifting when I see her waiting outside on the front porch. I jump out of the car with a grin, so excited to see her that I’m halfway up the walk before I realize she’s not dressed for an afternoon on the lake.

In fact, she’s not dressed at all.

At least, not for leaving the house.

“What’s up?” I glance down, gaze skimming over her oversized gray t-shirt and thin pink pajama pants.

“I’m not feeling well.” She sniffs, rubbing her nose with the tissue wadded in her fist. “I woke up yucky.”

“What are your symptoms?” I ask, snapping into doctor mode, hoping she’s up to date on all her vaccinations. “Any fever? Body aches?”

“No, nothing serious.” She sniffs again. “Just a runny nose and sinus pressure. Must be spring allergies or something. I don’t know, but I’m definitely not up for fishing today.”

I shrug, taking the news in stride. “Okay. Why don’t we just hang out and watch a movie or something? I can make you chicken soup with extra noodles and rub your feet.”

“No. I don’t want to make you sick.”

“You said it was probably just allergies,” I remind her. “And even if you were sick, chances are I wouldn’t catch it. I’ve spent the past four years at the hospital swimming in germs. I’m immune to everything. Or almost everything.” I smile, nudging her socked foot gently with my shoe. “Besides, I’d risk a virus to spend the afternoon with you.”

“That’s sweet, but I think I should go back to bed.” She tucks her chin, causing her hair to spill around her face, hiding her expression. “I didn’t sleep well last night. I could use the rest.”

“All right.” I try to ignore the stab of disappointment in my chest, but I’ve been looking forward to seeing Lark again since the moment she closed the car door behind her last night. After our disastrous first encounter at the wedding, our first date went better than I could have imagined.

I woke up this morning hopeful that I was on my way to winning a second chance, and that date two was going to be even better than date one.

Now, I’m going to spend the afternoon alone.

But she can’t help being sick….

Hmmm…

Lark…sick….

I furrow my brow. Come to think of it, have I ever seen her under the weather? I rack my brain, but with the exception of a nasty case of food poisoning from raw oysters at a Mardis Gras party a year after we started dating, I can’t recall her ever being ill.

There’s a first time for everything, of course, but the way she’s refusing to meet my eyes makes me wonder…

“I’ll talk to you later, okay?” She keeps her head tucked to her chest as she stands and reaches for the door.

I stop her with a gentle hand on her shoulder, letting my fingers brush along the back of her neck.

No fever. After a harrowing year working in the E.R. during the pandemic, I can guess a person’s temperature by touch.

She shivers and glances at me over her shoulder. “What was that for?”

“Checking your temperature.”

“With your fingers?”

“You’re right. Can’t tell for sure with fingers.” I can tell with my fingers, but she doesn’t know that and an excuse to get closer to her is suddenly too tempting to resist. Leaning in, I brush her hair to one side before bending to press my lips to the column of her