"She married a house?"
Grace laughed. "No, she just stayed at home and did mom things. They never treated me like a child, really, and so when I got around other children I didn't know what to do. What to say. I would get so scared, I would tremble. Finally, my father started taking me to counseling and after a while, I got a lot better."
"Except around men."
"That's a whole 'nother story," she said with a sigh. "I was an awkward teenager and the guys in my school never came around unless they wanted to mock me."
"Mock you how?"
Grace shrugged nonchalantly. At least now, those old memories had ceased to bother her. She'd come to terms with it long ago. "Because I have no boobs. My ears stand out, and I have freckles all over me."
"Boobs?"
"Breasts."
She swore she could feel his hot, prolonged stare on her chest.
Glancing sideways, she was able to confirm it. In fact, he looked at her as if he had her shirt off and was in the midst of-
"You have very nice breasts."
"Thanks," she said awkwardly, and yet somehow the unorthodox compliment warmed her. "What about you?"
"I have no breasts."
He said it in such a serious deadpan tone that she burst out laughing. "That's not what I mean, and you know it. What were you like as a teenager?"
"I already told you."
She gave him a menacing glance. "Seriously."
"Seriously, I fought, ate, drank, had sex, and bathed. Usually in that order."
"We're still having this whole intimacy issue, aren't we?" she asked rhetorically.
Then, falling into her role as a counselor, she moved on to something that was hopefully a little easier for him to talk about. "Why don't you tell me how you felt the first time you went into battle."
"I felt nothing."
"You weren't scared?"
"Of what?"
"Of dying or being maimed?"
"No."
The sincerity of that single word baffled her. "How could you not be afraid?"
"You can't fear dying when you have no reason to live."
Haunted by his words, Grace pulled into her driveway.
Deciding it was best to leave off so serious a discussion for the time being, she left the car and opened the trunk. Julian gathered the bags before following her into the house.
They went upstairs and Grace reached into her top dresser drawer to get her comfortable jeans. Then, she made room for his clothes in her chest of drawers.
"So," she said, grabbing the empty bags and tossing them into the wicker trash can by her closet. "It's Friday night. What would you like to do? Quiet night in or would you like to go out on the town?"
His hungry gaze ran down the length of her body, making her hot instantaneously. "You know the answer to that."
"Okay, one vote for jumping the doctor's bones, and one vote not to jump the doctor's bones. Can I hear another option?"
"How about just a nice quiet evening at home, then?" "Okay," she said, heading to her phone on the night-stand. "Let me check my messages, then we can start dinner."
Julian finished putting his clothes away while she called her answering service and talked to them.
He had just tucked away the last item when he heard an alarmed note in Grace's voice.
"Did he say what he needed?"
Julian turned to look at her. Her eyes were slightly dilated and she had a firm, tense grip on the phone.
"Why did you give him this number?" she asked angrily. "My patients are never to receive my home number. Do you have a supervisor I can talk to?"
Julian went to stand beside her. "Is something wrong?"
She held her hand up to tell him to be quiet as she listened to the other person.
"All right," she said after a long pause. "I'll just have to get my number changed again. Thanks." She turned the phone off and set it down. Worry knitted her brow.
"What happened?" he asked.
She let out an irritated breath as she rubbed at her neck. "The answering service hired this new girl who slipped up and gave out my home number to one of my patients who called in today."
She talked so fast, he could barely follow her.
"Well, he's not really one of my patients," she continued without pausing. "I would never have taken such a man on as a patient, but Luanne, Dr. Jenkins, isn't so picky. And she rushed out of town last week, on some personal emergency. So Beth and I had to divvy up her patients who had to have counseling while she's gone. Still, I didn't want this creepy guy, but Beth doesn't work on Fridays, and he has to have Wednesdays and Fridays because of his release program."
She looked up at him with panic in her light gray eyes. "I still didn't want him, but his case worker swore to me there wouldn't be any problems. He said the man wasn't a threat to anyone."