Wishes and Stitches Read Online Free PDF Page B

have an appointment to play Frisbee on the beach. After he trumps me at that, we’ll both have a lie-down; does that make you happy, Doc?”
    â€œNo.” She shook her head. “Not really.”
    â€œYou want to come?”
    Naomi raised her eyebrows. “What?”
    â€œTo play Frisbee.”
    Milo turned his head and peeked at her again. “I throw good.”
    â€œGod, no.”
    Milo hid his head again. Oh, crap. Her too-quick phrase wasn’t meant for him—it was meant for his uncle. She started to raise her hand as if to touch him, but then she stopped, letting her hand drop. She didn’t want to scare him. “I’m sorry, Milo, I bet you’re great at throwing. But not today, thank you.”
    Rig shrugged and hitched Milo up a notch at the same time. “Suit yourself, Doc. It’s good to see you again.” His eyes were exactly the same dark brown as her favorite pair of ebony knitting needles, rich and warm. “And hey, I should probably also tell you I’m the new doctor in your office. Pederson and I finished up the paperwork yesterday. So I guess I’ll be seeing you at work.” He grinned and picked the bike back up with his free hand, looked both ways, and crossed the street.
    Naomi gasped, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of her. Pederson wouldn’t have. He wasn’t even in town, was he? It was true that when she’d been hired, it had been with a phone call and a faxed contract. Small practices sometimes played it looser.
    But without consulting her? Pederson was the primary, and she knew he could make those decisions without her, but she’d bought in, and she was his only partner. He should have . . . Damn. Naomi balled her hands into fists.
    Tomorrow she would figure out how to deal with it, tomorrow she’d fix it. Now she only wanted to be home with the afghan pulled over her knees, her needles in her hands, the stitches slipping like—
    On second thought, oh, hell no.
    With a burst of speed that felt foreign but right, Naomi sprinted across the street after Rig. She startled an elderly man driving a modified golf cart who shook his fist as he trundled by, yelling something she couldn’t quite make out.
    â€œHey,” Naomi said loudly. “What did you just say to me?”
    â€œGo take the Frisbee up to the sand-dune hill, right there, okay, buddy?” Rig directed Milo which way to go, and then turned to Naomi. “I’m sorry Pederson didn’t tell you himself.”
    â€œHow could you finish up paperwork with him when he’s out of the country?”
    â€œFaxes and e-mails. We’re livin’ in the future.” His smile was rueful. “And I had no idea my Naomi in Portland was the same as Naomi Fontaine, his partner. How would I have known that?”
    She gaped. “ Your Naomi? It was one night.”
    â€œOne fucking great night.”
    On many levels, yes. “Whatever. You don’t just come to a town and step into a business like that. My practice!”
    He held up his hands. “I’m not trying to be a threat—”
    â€œStop.” Naomi stepped forward and stood on a small rise in the sand. They were eye to eye, and words, instead of stuttering in her throat, came easily for once. “Look, guy. This is my town. This is my life . If Pederson’s made a decision I can’t reverse, then I’ll handle it, but you should know one thing: What happened between us has nothing to do with my business. I love my practice and my patients more than . . . more than anything else I can think of, actually. I won’t let that be compromised in any way, by anyone. No matter how hot that someone is.”
    The corner of Rig’s mouth quirked.
    â€œThat’s not a compliment,” Naomi went on. “I’ll do anything to protect myself and my way of life. Now go play with your nephew who should be lying down in a quiet