“It’s a place to start.” Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Haleigh gave him a weak smile. “I need to finish up some paperwork. Tell Abby I’ll see her later, okay?”
“Will do.”
Before turning to leave, she said, “You really came through for that girl tonight, Cooper. Not many guys would have done that. Especially for a stranger.”
“I didn’t do anything special,” he replied. “You and Jessi handled the hard part.”
“You always did sell yourself short. Face it, Cooper, you’re a good guy.”
Without awaiting a response, Haleigh left him staring after her. “And good guys never get the girl,” he mumbled.
Insomnia was a bitch.
Haleigh couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this tired, yet her brain wouldn’t shut down. And every time she closed her eyes, she saw Cooper’s flirtatious grin and those inviting green eyes. She’d never considered anything about Cooper to be inviting before. He’d always been sweet and funny, and good for forgotten lunch money or an oil change, but there had never been any attraction between them.
That had certainly changed tonight.
Since returning to town six months ago, Haleigh had practically lived at the hospital, while using a room at Abby’s house to store her meager belongings and catch the occasional nap. She had her own reasons for avoiding social interactions, especially in places that served alcohol. The only interactions she couldn’t avoid were the mandatory dinners with her mother. Not that Meredith Mitchner ever used the word mandatory, but she’d presented the weekly meal idea as more of an edict than an invite.
In truth, Haleigh’s mother was an intimidating figure who rarely took no for an answer. Especially not from her daughter.
Preferring images of Cooper to those of her disapproving parent, Haleigh let her mind wander back a few hours. Though she would never admit as much aloud, that sleepover suggestion had merit. A casual romp would do her body good, and she could replace the image of fourteen-year-old Cooper in tighty-whities with the new and improved version.
But, alas, that was a no-trespassing zone. Haleigh had a less-than-stellar history with men and would not add Cooper Ridgeway to her long list of failures. He deserved better, for one, and for two, Abby would never forgive her for breaking her brother’s heart.
The subtle chirp of the cell phone on her nightstand snapped Haleigh from her thoughts. The clock read 12:30 a.m. Who would call so late? Checking the screen, she couldn’t believe her eyes.
Marcus Appleton—plastic surgeon with delusions of grandeur and Haleigh’s ex-fiancé.
Speaking of her long list of failures.
She considered ignoring the call, but since she hadn’t heard from him in months, curiosity won out. “Hello?”
“Hey there, beautiful.”
Why had she ever thought that greeting romantic? Sadly, he’d picked her up in a bar with that line. A bar she never should have been in considering her proclivities. But sadly, she couldn’t even use being drunk as an excuse for talking to the arrogant doctor, since she’d been nursing nothing more than a glass of water that night.
“What do you want, Marcus?”
“Try not to sound so happy to hear my voice.”
“It’s after midnight,” she pointed out. As if she’d been sleeping like a normal person would be.
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot about the time difference. It’s barely after ten out here on the coast.”
He didn’t forget. He was too stuck in his own world to consider that the rest of the planet didn’t operate on his schedule.
“Why are you calling?” she asked.
“Because I miss you, baby.”
Of all the . . .
“I’m not your baby anymore, Marcus. Remember? Staying with me would have meant wasting your skill and talent in a backwoods town. Or did you forget that, too?”
Not that Haleigh was bitter or anything.
“I was mad,” he defended. “You sprung that move on me without any warning.” Music blared in the background and then faded. “You weren’t even willing to talk about it.” The music blared again, this time accompanied by a car horn. The man was standing outside a nightclub on the streets of LA claiming to miss her. Jerk.
“You always knew I intended to move back home once my residency was over. And I reminded you of the fact the night you proposed.”
In a muted tone, he replied, “I thought you’d change your mind. I mean, this is Los Angeles we’re talking about.”
“What’s the matter, Marcus? Are the women out there not as susceptible as the ones in Memphis? I suppose plastic surgeons are a dime a dozen in celebrity-land.”