The Doctor and the Single Mom Read online

  That sounded like confirmation that there was no ex helping her out with raising her son. Someone had obviously done her wrong, so he had to sign a legal contract to give her peace of mind.

  Adam didn’t react well to negative vibes, and Jill Beck had N-O with a capital N coming off her in waves. That made him want to challenge her and he could feel his stubborn streak going radioactive. It didn’t always lead to the best personal decisions, and he had the only divorce in the family to prove the point. But the obstinate side always made his life interesting.

  “I still want to rent your apartment, Miss Beck.”

  Her gaze narrowed on him. “You do realize what kind of money is involved?”

  “In spite of my less challenging career choice, I did make it through medical school. I can do the math.” He looked around at the living room with fresh flowers and more than one oval-framed needlepoint sampler. “This is charming. And the cost is not a problem.”

  “All right, Doctor—”

  “If my personal check isn’t satisfactory, I’d be happy to stop at the bank for cash or a cashier’s check.” He took a pen from her desk and signed the agreement. After handing it back he said, “You’re going to be my landlady. It’s time you started calling me Adam.”

  * * *

  Adam.

  Stone.

  The name suited him, Jill thought. He was immovable like a rock. A tall, good-looking rock.

  The man was her worst nightmare and he was settling in upstairs. The moving truck had brought his stuff and then rumbled away a while ago. On paper he was the perfect tenant. A doctor. Gainfully employed at Mercy Medical Clinic. He came from a prominent family. And the hefty check he’d given her had cleared the bank. Probably soared more than cleared. There was that prominent, wealthy family. But the doctor gig no doubt paid pretty well without help from the folks. That was the business part of her talking.

  From Jill’s personal perspective, he couldn’t have been worse. Young. Too handsome for her own good. He reminded her of the actor who had played the most recent Captain James T. Kirk in Star Trek. She had a crush on that actor, and now his clone was living upstairs. Even worse, she liked him. He was funny and charming. Damn him.

  None of that was even a problem—until he left. And he would. Like she’d told him, they all left. She should be used to men walking away from her by now, but apparently one never quite got the hang of having one’s hopes crushed into dust. It still smarted. But she was a big girl and understood what was going on. Her son was just a little boy and she wouldn’t stand by and allow a good-looking tenant to trample on C.J.’s feelings again.

  Speaking of her son...

  Jill pushed away from her desk and rubbed her eyes after looking at a computer screen for so long. This economics assignment for her online class had taken more time than anticipated. “C.J.?”

  There was no answer and the house was too hushed and silent. He was a six-year-old boy, not a cat burglar, and quiet wasn’t hardwired into him.

  “C.J., are you hiding?” She stood, then listened for the giggling, a clue there was an unannounced game under way.

  The only sounds came from overhead—faint footsteps and a thump. Doctor Dazzling was putting things away. Should she offer to help? Not if she was smart.

  She walked down the hall to her son’s room, which was where she’d last seen him, playing with action figures now abandoned on the beige area rug. His bed was made, the lumps and bumps in the superhero spread evidence of the small hands doing the big job. The boy attached to those hands was nowhere in sight.

  “C.J.?” Jill opened the closet to make sure her mischievous little man wasn’t playing with her.

  The interior looked as if a clothing and toy store had thrown up. When he was ordered to put his stuff away, this was where C.J. stashed everything. But if he were hiding in here, there would be giggling and wiggling. His skill level for holding still was on a par with keeping quiet.

  Now she was starting to get concerned. He couldn’t maintain the cone of silence for very long, but sneaking out of the house without being heard was something he was pretty good at. If he’d left the premises, she knew where to find him.

  She walked over to her desk, picked up the phone and hit speed dial. It rang several times before the man who worked her marina business on the lake answered. “Blackwater Lake Marina and Bait Shop.”

  “Brewster? It’s Jill.”

  “Hey, boss. What’s up?”

  “Tell C.J. it’s time for him to come home. And he’s in big trouble.” She half sat on the edge of her desk.

  “I’d be happy to except he’s not here.”

  Her stomach knotted with worry. “Are you sure? Maybe he sneaked in quietly. You know how he loves to jump out and scare you.”

  “That’s a fact. But I’ve been out front all afternoon straightening up. No way he could get by me.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  “You want me to look for him?”

  “No. I’m sure he’s in the house somewhere. Bye, Brew.”

  No need to panic. This was probably a new unannounced game, something he did frequently. But from the moment he was born she’d used all her senses to keep tabs on her little guy, and sight was the one that brought her the most comfort. Seeing him safe and sound always made her breathe a sigh of relief. She badly wanted that sigh now.

  Overhead she heard more footsteps followed by another thump. Her eyes narrowed as a thought formed. “He wouldn’t dare—”

  Jill walked out her front door and turned right, then went up the stairs and knocked on her new tenant’s door. Moments later he opened it and smiled. Her stomach boomeranged down to her toes and back up. It had happened the first time she saw him, but she’d been sure the reaction was a one-time deal and was now under control. Apparently it needed some more work.

  “Hi,” he said. “What’s up? Do you need more money?”

  “Not until next month.” In spite of the niggling guilt she smiled. Might as well be friendly. No way she could avoid dealing with him. “Are you settling in okay?”

  “Yeah. Thanks for asking.” His gaze sharpened a fraction as he studied her. “Is something wrong?”

  Jill figured either he was superobservant, or she should never try to improve her financial situation by playing poker.

  “Actually,” she said, “I was wondering if you’d seen my son.”

  “Is he about this high?” Adam put his hand about C.J.’s height. “Curly red hair? Wearing jeans, sneakers and a Spider-Man T-shirt? Looks a lot like you.”

  “A perfect description. That means you’ve spotted him recently.” The knot of anxiety in her stomach loosened.

  “Yeah. He’s been helping me put things away.”

  “You should have sent him home.” The anxiety snapped back, but for a different reason. “He knows better than to pester our renter.”

  Adam folded his arms over his chest. There was something so blatantly masculine in the movement that her mouth went dry. Until that moment, Jill hadn’t considered how long it had been since her last date. Apparently too long. Might be time to do something about that.

  “By ‘knows better,’ do you mean he had specific instructions not to come upstairs?”

  She nodded. “The exact words were that there would be dire consequences if he bothered you.”

  “Then he’s off the hook.”

  “How do you figure?” she asked.

  “Because he’s not bothering me.”

  Adam Stone was covering for C.J., she realized. It was protective and sweet. Unfortunately, she couldn’t afford to give in to that “aww” feeling. It would open the door for the “oh, damn” feeling when he left. She was the only one C.J. could count on. It was her job to protect him.

  The sound of small sneakers runni
ng sounded just before the little guy appeared beside the big guy. “Hi, Mom. I didn’t sneak out and help Brew at the dock because I had to help Adam.”

  There were so many things wrong with that statement she didn’t know where to start, but he was gone before she could say anything. And that was classic C.J. They needed to have a conversation, but before that she needed to set boundaries with Adam. When she did, it would be best if her son was out of earshot.

  “He didn’t tell me where he was going,” she started.

  “You were worried.”

  “Of course.” It was probably an educated guess, because her background check confirmed he was a bachelor without children. He had no frame of reference to empathize with a parent.

  “I should have asked if he had permission.” There was annoyance in his expression that looked to be self-directed. “It won’t happen again. You have my word.”

  “That’s very much appreciated,” she said sincerely. “But here’s the thing. Probably it’s better for C.J. if you don’t encourage him to hang out with you at all.”

  Adam leaned a broad shoulder against the doorjamb. “Are you telling me to stay away from him?”

  “No. Not exactly.” Unable to meet his gaze, she looked down at the wood floor on the landing outside his door. “Kind of.”

  “I expect you’ve got a good reason.” The deep tone dripping with sarcasm said he didn’t believe there was such a thing.

  “I’m a single parent—”

  “So you said.”

  “And C.J. is an active, outgoing little boy.”

  That made him smile. “He’s a really great kid.”

  “I know.” She smiled, too. Then grew serious. “He’s a great kid who badly wants a man in his life to hang out with.”

  “Just my opinion as a family practice doctor, but that’s perfectly normal.”

  “It’s probably not a good idea for him to get attached to you.” She met his gaze. “That’s just my opinion as his mother.”

  “Because you think I won’t stick.”

  “Exactly. I just don’t want him to get his little heart broken again—” A lump of emotion lodged in her throat and it was mortifying in front of this man.

  “The last doctor,” he guessed.

  His parents and siblings weren’t the only smart ones in the Stone family. She was trying to be vague, but apparently he had a gift for connecting the dots. “Yeah.”

  “I wouldn’t hurt him, Jill.” The tone was extraordinarily gentle.

  “Not deliberately,” she said. “I know that. But it concerns me.”

  “I admire your impulse to protect him and will do my best to help you out.”

  Jill hadn’t realized she was spoiling for a fight until he didn’t give her one. She appreciated the compliment about her maternal instincts, and the admiration went both ways. He seemed like a good guy, but another seemingly good guy had once stood right where he was now. That guy broke his promise and her son’s heart. Jill’s had been nicked, too.

  “Thanks for understanding.” What else could she say?

  “I’m still not going anywhere.” Before that could be challenged, he called out, “C.J.? Your mom says it’s time to go home.”

  “Do I have to?” The question was followed by the tap, tap of running sneakers. The boy stopped beside Adam. “My tummy isn’t tellin’ me it’s time for dinner yet, Mom.”

  “It’s still time to go home,” she said firmly, noting the way Adam’s mouth twitched as he struggled not to laugh.

  “Why?” the boy asked.

  “Because you’ve bothered Adam enough for one day.”

  “I didn’t bother him. Did I?” C.J. looked up, the beginnings of hero worship on his freckled face.

  Adam glanced at her, caught between a rock and a hard place. Then he answered without actually answering. “Your mom has her reasons. If I were you, I’d do what she says.”

  “Okay.” Then a thought chased away his disappointment. “Can Adam have dinner with us?”

  “It’s Dr. Stone,” she corrected the little boy.

  “He said to call him Adam,” C.J. protested.

  “I did,” he confirmed. “You could take lessons.”

  “Right.” Jill smiled. “How about a compromise, kiddo? What do you think of Dr. Adam?”

  “I think he’s cool,” C.J. answered.

  “I meant that’s what you should call him. Remember, respect for your elders.”

  “Moving day is always tough,” Adam said, “but I didn’t feel quite so old until just now.”

  “Can Dr. Adam have dinner with us?” the relentless child persisted.

  “I don’t think so, kiddo.” She looked at Dr. Adam, and there must have been pleading in her eyes.

  “Not tonight, buddy.” Adam’s expression was half amused, half regretful. “I still have a lot of boxes to unpack.”

  Jill appreciated his cooperation and knew what was coming from her son. “No, you can’t help, C.J.”

  “Aw, Mom—” Hope filled his brown eyes. “What about when he’s done unpacking? He might get lonesome.”

  “You’re pushing it, mister. Downstairs. On the double.” She glanced over her shoulder and thought Dr. Adam might have been looking at her butt.

  It was a nice thought, but a waste of his time and energy. A crush on the movie star type notwithstanding, she would never let Adam Stone be her type.

  Jill walked C.J. down the stairs and when they got to the bottom she saw Brewster Smith walking up the path. He stopped in front of her, on the covered porch.

  “Just came by to see if you found C.J.” The man was in his fifties and had a full head of gray hair and a beard to match. Very mountain-man-looking. He was an employee, but more important, her friend. “I see you did.”

  “Yes, he was—”

  “Hey, Brew,” C.J. said. “I was helpin’ Dr. Adam unpack his stuff and he’s got a lot! Mostly books. Really big, fat ones. He said they’re too heavy for me.”

  Jill put a hand on her son’s small shoulder. “I’m sorry if I worried you, Brew. He neglected to tell me where he was going.”

  “Figured that.” The man’s pale blue eyes narrowed. “If he had, you’d have put a stop to it.”

  This man knew her better than anyone, knew how hard it had been when she’d been left behind by the doctor. He was the one who’d held her when she cried.

  The door at the top of the stairs opened and heavy footsteps sounded on the wood tread behind them. There was only one person it could be.

  “C.J.? You forgot these.” Adam handed over Batman and Captain America action figures. He nodded at Brew. “Hi.”

  The older man’s eyes narrowed on the new guy in town. “You’re the renter.”

  “Yeah.” He held out his hand. “Adam Stone.”

  “Brewster Smith,” he answered, taking the offered hand.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Hope you still think that when I say what’s on my mind.”

  “Okay. Shoot.”

  “This woman is like a daughter to me.” Brewster’s face was all warning, no warmth. “Treat her right or I won’t be a happy man.”

  “You’re already not happy,” Adam pointed out cheerfully, apparently not intimidated at all.

  “If you do anything to hurt her, I’ll be a whole lot not happier. And that goes for a lot of folks in town, too.” The older man’s gaze never wavered, before he abruptly turned and walked down the front porch steps. At the bottom he headed in the direction of the marina.

  “Nice guy,” Adam said. “Straightforward.”

  “He’s a good friend.”

  Jill was grateful for his friendship and something else, too. The town was circling the wagons around her. It wasn’t the first
time this had happened, but it still made her very happy. In the case of Dr. Adam Stone it made her incredibly grateful. He’d done nothing to anesthetize her attraction and she’d need all the protection those circled wagons could give her.

  Chapter Two

  Adam had just seen his last patient on his first day at the clinic. He wouldn’t say this was the worst day he’d ever had as a doctor, but moving from Texas and unpacking boxes had been a piece of cake compared to cutting through the glacial attitude of the people he’d seen today. Of course none of those people had been C. J. Beck, who couldn’t have been cuter or friendlier, unlike his mom. Except for the cute part. Jill was more than cute. And that was nothing more than a guy’s appreciative take on a very pretty, very sexy woman.

  The surroundings were different from any office he’d ever worked in. Mercy Medical Clinic was set up in a large Victorian house that had been donated to the town years ago. The kitchen had been turned into an outpatient lab and the spacious living room now had sofas, chairs and tables for a waiting area. Bedrooms had been converted to exam rooms, and closets held medical and office supplies. That morning he’d had the two-cent tour from nurse Virginia Irvin, who was no warmer than the patients he’d seen. She was like a glacier in scrubs.

  He grabbed a cup of coffee from the break area in the small alcove near the back door that was once a mudroom, then went back down the long hallway, past the exam rooms and to his office. It was time to catch up on paperwork.

  So as not to keep patients waiting too long, there hadn’t been time to do more than look at the updated medical information form he’d asked each patient to fill out and skim the chart for drug allergies. Now he wanted to look at all the information on each person he’d seen, including notes from the physicians who’d come before him. Including “the last doctor.”