Love On Anchor Island: An Anchor Island Novel by Terri Osburn (world best books to read .txt) 📕

the odd jobs Will had when she’d first came to the island, though from what Roxie understood, the tall brunette was rich as hell so why she’d needed multiple jobs was a mystery. Then there was Callie’s story of her first labor, when Connor had nearly made his first appearance in the parking lot of Edwards Medical Center.

She didn’t begrudge the women their friendship, but this kind of hen party was as familiar to Roxie as quantum physics.

“Here I am.” She took a sip of her punch. “Tell me there’s something in this kitchen to make this drink stronger.”

“I have just the thing.” Henri pulled a bottle of liquor out of a lower cabinet. “Rum punch, anyone?”

Roxie held out her cup. “Just what the doctor ordered.”

“Speaking of,” the blonde cooed, “how was dinner with our hunky Dr. Fielding?”

“Dinner was fine,” she mumbled, sipping once again. This time, the punch burned on the way down.

The rum disappeared back under the counter, and Henri hopped up to sit on the island. “Just fine?”

Other than Beth, this woman was the closest Roxie had to a friend. She hadn’t told Beth about the kiss, but only because her cousin had been asleep on the couch when Roxie got home and was too busy the day before preparing for this party.

“Alex wants more than I can give,” she said simply. After walking her to the door, and then kissing her breathless on Beth’s porch, he’d said he wanted to see her again. Roxie blamed the kiss for the brain fog that had her agreeing to another date. This time, a real one, he’d promised.

“Unless he proposed—in which case the man’s a lunatic and you should run the other way—that’s a bogus statement.”

Voice low, she whispered, “He’s khakis and polos and quartz countertops. I’m weathered Chucks, tattered jeans, and Formica. Nice doctors do not date women like me.”

“Women like you?” she repeated. “Roxie, have you done time in jail?”

“No.”

“Ever beat a Girl Scout? Mugged an old lady? Drove sixty-five in a school zone?”

“None of the above.”

“Then what is wrong with you? Because this ‘watch out I’m trouble’ routine is pretty baseless as far as I can tell.” Henri set her cup on the counter and hopped to her feet. “You’ve been here for what, three weeks?”

“About that, yeah.”

“In that time, you’ve helped multiple islanders, doing everything from manual labor, to pregnant woman sitting, to herding an intimidating number of toddlers. All for no pay, I’m assuming. So explain to me, where is this horrible person I keep hearing about? Because the clothes do not make the woman, my friend. For heaven’s sake, Sid Dempsey is wearing cuffed jeans, and despite her occupation, she’s as far from gay as you can get.”

Roxie rolled her eyes. “I’m just not the girl next door, okay?”

Tapping her on the nose, Henri said, “In this case, babe, you are literally the girl next door. But has Alex ever said that’s what he’s looking for? I mean, you aren’t putting on an act here. That’s one of the things I like about you. You are who you are. And you are the woman he’s asking out.”

She had a point. Despite giving him attitude at every turn, warning him off, and insulting his toy car, Alex still wanted to spend time with her. And it wasn’t as if he was some stuffy doctor hanging at the country club and attending charity dinners. In fact, he was a pretty normal guy, and a definite upgrade from her previous poor choices.

The truth was, she liked him. A lot. Which made the stakes even higher.

“What if I screw it up?” she asked.

Henri snorted. “We all screw up eventually. The right person is the one who sticks around afterwards. The doc seems like the sticking kind, so why not give him a shot?”

There were a million different reasons, but Roxie couldn’t think of a damn one of them. “You’re really annoying, you know that?”

Retrieving her cup, she shrugged. “I’ve been called worse.”

“I’m sorry, but can one of you tell me where the garbage bags are?” Mia Stamatis asked. “The can is full, and I thought I’d empty it.”

“Sure.” Henri grabbed a bag from the cabinet under the sink. “Here you go.”

“Do you two know each other?” Roxie asked, stopping Mia from leaving the kitchen. Two could play this matchmaker game.

The brunette shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Mia, this is Henri. Henri, Mia. She’s an artist on the island.”

“Really? What kind?”

“I dabble in a few mediums,” Mia replied. “Pottery, ceramics, mosaics. Watercolors now and then. I sell various pieces through Lola’s arts and crafts store.”

“That sounds interesting. I’ll have to check them out.”

Smiling, Mia said, “If you find something you like, let me know, and I’ll have Lola give you a discount.”

Henri returned the smile. “Will do, thanks.”

As the other woman turned to leave, Roxie elbowed her friend. When blue eyes met hers, she bobbed her head toward the exiting party.

“What?” Henri mouthed.

Roxie nodded again, this time more emphatically. Seconds later, the light went on.

“Oh. Ooooohhhh.” Leaning to catch another glimpse, she said, “She’s cute.” Then she turned narrowed eyes Roxie’s way. “I see what you’re doing here.”

“Tit for tat, my friend. Tit. For. Tat.”

“Are you sure this party won’t be too much for her?” Sam asked, pacing Dempsey’s scuffed wood floor like the expectant father that he was.

“As long as she follows the order not to move from the couch, there’s no reason Callie can’t enjoy her shower.” As her physician, Alex had used his sternest voice to instill the importance of sitting still. As a man who did not want to be hanged by the women who’d put months into planning this shindig, he’d gladly cleared the guest of honor from her bed.

“What if she gets too excited?” Sam asked.

“Are they bringing in a stripper?” Lucas teased with a chuckle. “It’s a bunch of women cooing over baby clothes and a cake-looking thing made out of diapers. How exciting could it be?”

Nick Stamatis