Beating Heart: A Small Town, Single Dad Romance (Magnolia Falls Series Book 4)
Chapter 10

I’d just gotten off work, and Winnie and I made our way home. I fed her while I heated up some leftover noodles and poured myself a glass of wine. I pulled up the recipe for the Rice Krispie treats with unicorn sprinkles I was going to make tonight. I promised Demi and Peyton I’d bring them tomorrow, and Lana and Petra were getting very used to me bringing in different baked goods for them a couple of days a week.

I’d enjoyed this time to myself. Swimming and baking and listening to music. No pressure from planning a wedding. No pressure from a fiancé reminding me that I worked too much during residency.

No pressure at all.

I was just living.

“Let’s go outside, girl,” I said.

Of course, she ran right over to Nash and Cutler’s yard, looking for her favorite kid.

I was surprised they weren’t out here, but maybe Cutler was still feeling bad.

I chewed on my thumbnail as I stared at their back door.

I was his pediatrician. The least I could do was check on him, right?

I was awkward after what had happened last night.

And we’d all but admitted that we were attracted to one another when we’d texted.

But we were neighbors.

We could be friendly.

I wasn’t going to overthink it.

I walked toward the door, with Winnie on my heels, and knocked lightly.

The door opened so quickly, I startled. Cutler stood there, holding a washcloth in his hand, and his eyes were wide. “Hi, Dr. Emerson. Pops is real sick.”

I heard loud heaving in the distance, and I hurried inside.

Me, Cutler, and Winnie walked down the hallway to the powder room, where Nash was on his knees and unloading everything in his stomach into the toilet. Winnie tried to get in there, and Nash tried to block her from sticking her head in the toilet.

“Winnie, out,” I said, my voice firm, and my pup immediately hurried out of there. “Cutler, how about you take her out to the couch and sit with her, and I’ll help your daddy, okay? I’ll be out in a little bit.”

He nodded and handed me the wet cloth, which melted my heart because he’d obviously been trying to comfort his father.

I wet the washcloth and wrung it out before dropping to my knees beside Nash, just as he’d heaved a few more times. I set the cool cloth on the back of his neck and ran my hand over his back. “You all right?”

“You don’t want to get this. You should head home,” he groaned.

“Trust me. I’ve got a steel immune system at this point. Don’t worry about that.”

He dry heaved several more times, but there was nothing left in his stomach. He flushed the toilet and sat back, leaning against the wall, and reached for that damp washcloth and ran it over his face and mouth.

I settled beside him on the floor and glanced over at him to replace him watching me.

“I’ll bet you really want to kiss me now,” he said, his voice tired, but I could hear the humor in his tone.

“Very funny. Are you okay?”

“Yep. I’ll be fine. What time is it?”

“A little after seven,” I said.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath, trying to push to his feet. “I need to make Cutler dinner.”

I put my hand on his shoulder. “Just stay put. I’ll make him something to eat and grab you some Gatorade.”

“I can call one of the guys. You don’t need to be here.”

“Stop being stubborn. It’s the neighborly thing to do. You fixed my fence, after all.” I smirked before pushing to stand and making my way out to the family room.

I chuckled at the sight in front of me.

Winnie was sitting so close to Cutler, they were pressed against one another. They were both staring at the TV as Simba was singing his heart out on The Lion King.

“Hey, are you hungry?” I asked him.

“I had some more crackers already, but I’m a little hungry.”

“How about some noodles with butter and toast?” I was hoping Nash had that here, but if not, I could run next door and grab some pasta and bread.

“Yes.” Cutler fist-pumped his little arm. “I love noodles and butter.”

I looked through the pantry and was surprised at how well-stocked it was. This was not the kitchen of a bachelor. This was the kitchen of a father.

One who fed his son well. The freezer was full of meat and fish. The refrigerator was packed with fruit and veggies and milk and eggs. The pantry was well-stocked with pasta and canned goods.

I pulled out a pot and got the water boiling before pouring both Cutler and Nash a cold glass of Gatorade.

“Drink this,” I said, and I walked back down the hallway and handed Nash a glass. He was still sitting in the same spot in the bathroom, and I was glad that he hadn’t thrown up anymore. “Just sip it slowly and let’s see if it stays down.”

“Thank you,” he said.

I knew he was a proud man, and he probably hated asking for help. But he was sick, and I lived next door. I was happy to do it.

City life had been so different.

I’d lived in a high-rise, and I’d barely spoken to my neighbors over the years.

But this was the way I’d grown up.

Hell, my mom had Sunday dinners that were open to anyone who wanted to come. Half the town came to our Fourth of July party every year.

“You got it. I’ve got some water boiling, and I’m making Cutler some noodles. I’ll wrap some up for you in case you’re able to hold food down later tonight or tomorrow.”

He nodded and then took a sip of the Gatorade before closing his eyes as his head rested against the wall.

I walked out and got the noodles cooking and poured them into a bowl with some butter before calling Cutler over to the table. Winnie had fallen asleep on the couch.

“This looks yummy. Pops makes the best noodles, too.” He shoved a forkful into his mouth.

His dark hair was lying flat on his head, minus his usual gel, as he’d clearly been on the couch all day, and I took him in. He was such an adorable little boy with his chocolate brown eyes and cherub cheeks.

“You’ve held food down fine today?”

“Yep. Pops made me toast and a banana for breakfast and some soup and crackers for lunch.”

He’d done the BRAT diet. Nash clearly knew how to care for a sick child.

“Good. And you rested a lot today?”

“Yep. We slept on the couch for a long time. Except when Tara called.” He took a sip of water and then continued. “That’s my mom. She’s coming here at the end of summer, and she wants me to call her mom instead of Tara.”

That was an odd request when you hadn’t seen someone in a while. Obviously, I didn’t know all the details, but I’d gathered enough from what Nash had shared to know she didn’t come around much.

“How do you feel about that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know her.” He shrugged. “Do you know your mama?”

I sighed. “Yeah. My mom is great. But, I will say this. If my mom wasn’t great, I’d be okay with her not being around, you know?”

“Really?”

“Yes. Really. I mean, you have this fabulous dad, and he loves you so much. And being surrounded by love is what’s most important.” I said.

He shrugged as he shoved some more noodles into his mouth and then took a minute to think over my words. “You only like fabulous people in your life, too, Dr. Emerson?”

“First off, if we’re sitting here eating noodles, I think you should just call me Emerson, okay? We’re friends, right?”

His lips turned up in the corners, and he was so adorably perfect that I couldn’t help but smile when I was around him. “We are friends, so I think I should give you a nickname, since you call me Beefcake.”

“Okay. What do you want to call me?” I asked, as he looked deep in thought.

“I’m going to call you Sunny. Because the word sun is at the end of your name, and I think you feel like sunshine.”

My heart melted.

“I like that name, Beefcake. Thank you.” I patted his little hand. “And yes. I like to be surrounded by fabulous people, like you and my family.”

“You want the other people to leave if they aren’t being fabulous? Cause my camp counselor, Louisa, she says we should only be around people who fill our buckets.”

“I like that. I had this, er, friend that. I spent a lot of years with. But in the end, he wasn’t a good friend to me. So I agree with Louisa. Let’s keep people around who fill our buckets.” I chuckled.

“But also, my pops and my uncles would beat your friend up if you wanted them to,” he said.

I heard laughter coming from the bathroom, and I’d forgotten that Nash was close enough to hear our conversation.

“I don’t need anyone to fight my battles, but thank you,” I said, a bit louder than I’d been speaking before, and I heard him chuckle again from down the hallway.

“I’m happy you live next door to us, Sunny,” Cutler spoke over a mouthful of noodles.

I reached for his hand. “Me, too. This fresh start is exactly what I needed.”

I cleaned up the dishes, and Nash came padding out of the bathroom wearing gray joggers and a white fitted tee.

Who looks this good after vomiting everything in their stomach?

Nash. Freaking. Heart.

His hair was a rumpled mess, but it only added to his appeal.

“Hey,” he said, his voice gruff and tired. “Thanks for helping out. I’m all right now.”

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Yes. You’ve done more than enough. I appreciate it.” He cleared his throat and set his half-finished glass of Gatorade on the counter.

“All right. Well, you’ve got my number if anything comes up,” I said, giving Cutler a hug before he jogged down the hallway when Nash told him to go get ready for bed.

“I do. We’ll be good to go by morning.”

I called for Winnie, who’d made herself completely at home as she lay on her back with her legs flayed out to the side like she owned the place.

“Winiford, come on, girl. Have some pride. Let’s go.”

Nash laughed as he followed me to the door, and my dog ran out ahead of me.

“She’s always welcome. And hey, if you decide that you want to pull a Winnie and come lie on my couch like you own the place, my door is always open.”

I laughed as I turned around when I got to the edge of the porch. He had his arms up, gripping the door frame, and his white tee lifted just the slightest bit, exposing a sliver of toned abs. I squeezed my thighs together as I tried to act unaffected.

My God, this man was so freaking sexy.

I hadn’t had sex in months, and I was clearly missing it.

But just being in Nash’s presence made me feel like a teenager with raging hormones.

“I hope you feel better.” I reached for the railing. “I’m going to turn around this time so I don’t fall into your bushes.”

He chuckled. “Mind if I watch?”

I was hoping you would.

I shook my head; my cheeks heated at the thought of his eyes on me. When I got down to the grass, I glanced over my shoulder.

“Is that heart of yours beating now?”

He placed a hand on his chest. “It sure the fuck is.”

“Goodnight, neighbor.”

“’Night, Sunny,” he said, and the nickname sounded sexy as hell coming from him.

I walked across the yard and pulled my back door open and looked back at his porch. He was still standing there.

“You’re sick. Get in bed. Doctor’s orders.”

“Just waiting for you to get inside.”

Such a gentleman.

A sexy-as-sin gentleman.