“Oh, you’re hiking?” I ask.
“Yep.” She shifts so we can see her backpack. “Going to fill this thing with a few snacks from the restaurant, but first, wine. And Grady’s promise not to off me.”
Dax and I glance at each other in confusion.
“The first time we went hiking around a winery, I was sure Grady wanted to get me drunk on his looks and wine before pushing me off a cliff.” Dylan giggles, hearts in her eyes for her husband.
Grady smirks. “Too late for that. I’m too into you now.”
He pulls her to him and kisses her forehead in the most loving way. I instinctively place my hand over my chest and peer at Dax.
His wavy hair is tamed, and his light stubble gives him a sexy edge.
My friend.
But here, now, it’s not as simple. He’s… special. Sensual.
More.
Grady and Dylan walk off toward the front desk, and when the coast is clear, Dax pulls me by my waist and whispers, “Just us then.”
His eyes dance with mischief. He’s calm and enjoying himself, even. Hasn’t seemed nervous or anything about last night or what this means for our friendship.
“Someone’s in a good mood.” I nudge his shoulder with mine.
“Why wouldn’t I be? The sun’s shining. All-we-can-drink wine surrounds us.” He peers at me and grins. “I’m with you.”
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, sure that my blush is evident.
As we walk toward the vineyard, our hands barely touch each other by our sides. Normally, I wouldn’t notice how close he is. How his cologne wafts in my direction with the light breeze. How his bicep flexes when he runs his hand through his hair.
But after last night, it takes all my energy not to launch myself at him.
“I’m in a good mood because I had the most amazing time with this girl last night.”
“Oh? Pray, do tell. What’s she like?” I bat my eyelashes.
He swipes at the corners of his lips, a smile tugging at them, an innocent yet dangerous charm about him. “She’s stubborn, for sure. Wouldn’t let me get on top.”
“Excuse me?” I gasp, smacking his chest, but instead of pulling it back, Dax grabs it and holds it over his heart.
His wildly beating heart.
He stops us, then uses his other hand to push my hair off my shoulder. His fingertips brush my arm on the way down.
The small contact leaves goose bumps in its wake.
“She’s also fiercely loving and loyal and strong.”
His words hit me square in the chest. He always used to tell me I’m strong, ever since we were kids. He once made me hold a frog, even though he knew I was terrified of them.
That’s why he told me to do it. He always said I was stronger than I thought.
His statement now, after the last few years, it holds so much weight. So much significance. It makes me feel like I can do anything.
“Not to mention, she has an ass to make grown men cry.” He winks, leaning in like he’s going to kiss me.
“Not here.” Glancing around, I notice a couple of people milling about. We’re still in the open, so I push against his chest toward the vineyard where we won’t be prone to prying eyes. And because I’m feeling lighter and wilder, I follow his playful lead. I take off, calling over my shoulder, “Catch me if you can.”
I jog between the rows of grapevines, a big smile on my face, the sun beaming down on me, and the fresh air makes me feel free.
I weave through the trees with Dax on my heels. It’s like we’re young again, playing in an open field.
But it’s more.
So much more.
Dax laughs behind me, and I don’t have to see him to know he’s close. He’s always been athletic and fit and very fast. I’ve never been any of those things, but I can usually manage.
With an active kid at home, I have to stay on my toes. Plus, I’ve been jogging a few times a week, like I used to. The natural endorphins give me newfound energy that I missed.
A giggling fit takes me down, along with Dax’s arms around me. He lifts me up before I fall, making me laugh. Making me squeal.
Making me feel alive again.
He sets me down again, spinning me around to face him. Cupping my cheek, he kisses me without reserve or hesitation, like this is natural.
Like this is how we’ve always been.
It feels right. Kissing my best friend feels too good to be wrong.
So, I indulge. Here among the trees and crisp air, I kiss Dax Pearson until I’m panting. Until his breath becomes my own. Until we feed off each other like we can’t live if we separate.
I don’t stop to think about what this means for our friendship, because this is too perfect. Too real.
I’ve always been the overthinker between the two of us. Dax has always been confident. The risk-taker.
Instead of going down the path I normally would, I take Dax’s lead.
No matter what happens next, we have this moment of bliss. Right now, as his tongue sweeps over mine, his hand firmly cupping the back of my head, my heart is full.
Fifteen
Dax
“How are you today, Mrs. Tuttle?” I ask, closing the door behind me. “How’s your new cat? Fluffy, right?”
Tinsley leans her hip against the wall, her iPad ready to chart. Her diligence and efficiency has allowed me to see many more patients every day, and I don’t know what I’d do without her. Hopefully, I won’t have to find out anytime soon.
“He’s adapting really well to his new home, and my other cats love him too.” Mrs. Tuttle pulls her phone out and stands to show me a picture of four cats. Pointing to the smallest one in the middle, she says, “This is him right here. Doesn’t he have the most beautiful brown eyes?”
A certain pair of other brown eyes flash through my mind.
Clara.
I clear my throat. “He’s adorable, and it sounds like he found a great new home. He’s very lucky.”
“You’re a real charmer, aren’t you, Doctor?” She puts her hands on her hips. “Say, I have a niece about your age. She teaches science at the elementary school. I’ll give you her number. I think you’d really hit it off.”
Tinsley stifles her laugh, tapping on her iPad, making me wonder if she keeps track of how many times the female patients try to set me up. I wouldn’t put it past her.
I pat the seat on the bed for Mrs. Tuttle. “I’m sure she’s amazing, but I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“Have you found that special someone?” Her eyes light up like a Christmas tree.
“Maybe.” Tinsley quirks her eyebrow. I simply smile and lift the ear tips of my stethoscope to examine Mrs. Tuttle. “Now, deep breath for me, please.”
After we finish with her appointment, I have fifteen more in the afternoon, most of whom have been coming to me since I started at this clinic last year. Most of them proudly show me pictures of their grandchildren, cats, and new cars, even. They probably don’t realize it, but they make me feel like part of their lives, and not just as their doctor, but their friend—it’s humbling.
It’s why I never left this area, even if I could’ve.
After I finish up with my last patient of the day, Mrs. Tuttle’s words echo in the forefront of my brain.