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Melting the M.D.
Tanya Michaels


Fast Fiction Romantic - short stories with a Happy Ever AfterAll Meg Nichols needed to prove herself as an event planner was for this weekend's society wedding in the Texas Hill Country to go smoothly. Then things started to go wrong. The maid of honor's tan turned a very unnatural shade of orange. The best man had a skiing accident and broke his leg. And his replacement was none other than her ex-boyfriend!












Melting the M.D.

Tanya Michaels







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Contents


Title Page (#uef82f403-8cde-59ec-bcbd-2c32dcf5de73)

Chapter One (#ulink_c13b2922-3782-5f66-9ba2-16583b394d91)

Chapter Two (#ulink_8a3fa618-939a-5898-91fd-ec08da9960ae)

Chapter Three (#ulink_f70b698a-bc7c-5c9c-98fa-7cd8a689e1af)

Chapter Four (#ulink_160968f1-3302-5fd7-97ee-ee1887b04f60)

Chapter Five (#ulink_c4edefc0-ac65-5871-8653-e479696eb8d2)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)




Chapter One (#ulink_a87340ec-c35f-5115-8357-1a9a27577515)


“Thank heavens you’re here!” Lucy swung open the door to Meg Nichols’s room at the bed-and-breakfast. “You’ll fix everything.”

Until now, Meg had only heard statements like that while standing next to her sister, Brooke, who was the reliable problem-solver in the otherwise unpredictable Nichols family.

But ever since Meg had become the godmother to her newborn niece, she’d vowed to become more responsible, more focused. After too many impulsive decisions and failed jobs, Lucy’s wedding this weekend in the picturesque Texas Hill Country would help establish Meg as a career woman and prove she was a capable wedding planner.

Meg gave the bride-to-be a reassuring smile. “Do you want to talk in here or downstairs? Mrs. Hoffman is brewing tea.”

“I can’t go down there! You just checked in, so you don’t know how seriously Mrs. H. takes her duty to feed her guests—or how amazing her brownies are. At the rate I’m stress-eating, I won’t be able to zip up my gown on Saturday. I wish I was built more like you.”

The two women were complete opposites. Tall, curvy Lucy had blue eyes and elegantly bobbed dark hair. Meg was short and slender with brown eyes and long, blond waves.

“But you’re stunning!” Meg sat on the edge of the queen-size bed while Lucy paced. “And Grant loves you exactly as you are.”

The brunette momentarily brightened, then scowled again. “Maybe Grant and I should have eloped.”

“My parents eloped.” Within seventy-two hours of meeting each other. “They’ve regretted not having the ceremony with family and friends many times.” That was true, Everett and Didi Nichols often argued about their elopement, but then, the passionate couple were always arguing about something. Except for when they were just as passionately reconciling.

After growing up in such a tumultuous household, Meg had never been able to picture herself getting married. She’d been in love once, but she’d bolted when he started talking about spending the rest of their lives together.

Lucy sighed. “I do want the wedding, just not the stress. My mother is driving me insane! I’m so unhinged that I yelled at Kyra.”

“You’re kidding.” In all the times Meg had seen Lucy with her maid of honor, the two women had gotten along perfectly.

“I was just so appalled at what she’d done! Kyra went to a spray tan place so she’d have more ‘color’ for the wedding pictures.” Lucy shuddered. “She is now a very unnatural shade of orange…”

“That bad?”

“Don’t look directly at her if you value your eyesight. I don’t know why she was worried about being a little pale. We just had the coldest January Texas has seen in years. We’re all pale! But at least she’s here, which is more than I can say for the best man. He called from Colorado yesterday to say he couldn’t make it.”

“Weather problems?” After the snow and ice that had hit several states this week, the extensive flight cancellations had been in the news. Meg was glad most of Lucy’s guests only had to drive from Houston.

“No, he was skiing and broke his leg showing off for a woman. I swear, he hasn’t matured since he and Grant lived in the fraternity house together. Luckily Grant’s cousin agreed to fill in as his best man,” Lucy said. “The cousin got here this morning but he hadn’t planned on wearing a tux, so we need someone to take him for a fitting. Grant and I have that couples’ spa appointment, and—”

“You go relax. I’ll get the guy to his fitting.”

Lucy flashed a grateful smile. “Maybe this best man switch will turn out to be a blessing. Grant’s cousin is much less likely to lose the rings or do something outrageous at the bachelor party. But the man’s so somber! Not the kind of guy I pictured standing with us on the happiest day of our lives.”

A knock interrupted Lucy. “That should be them now.” She opened the door and greeted her fiancé with a kiss. Then she moved aside to introduce the other man. “Meg, this is—”

“Scott?” Meg’s pulse raced, her heartbeat so loud it drowned out Lucy’s voice.

Dr. Scott Creighton was as devastatingly attractive as he’d always been, but there was a somberness in his eyes and face now, just as Lucy had described. When they’d first met three and a half years ago, Scott had been a playful hospital intern.

Though he’d been all serious intensity the night he’d told her point-blank that he planned to marry her. And she’d run the next morning.




Chapter Two (#ulink_20405d7c-be68-5571-ad74-6a96e7193642)


“You two know each other?” Lucy asked.

“Y-yes.” Meg bit her lip to keep from saying more. This weekend was critical to her future, and she needed to regain control of herself before she blurted something grossly unprofessional. “Or, we did. A few years ago.”

Scott leaned against the doorjamb, his hazel eyes unreadable. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

He certainly had. His burnished gold hair, just a couple of shades darker than hers, was cut a lot closer than it had been while they’d dated. And before, he’d always had a glint in his eye, a smile nearly boyish in its charm. Now he exuded raw masculinity.

“Meg has agreed to help with your tux.” Lucy scooped up her purse. “She’ll drive you to the fitting.”

For a fraction of a second, Scott’s eyes widened, but his voice remained even. “I don’t want to impose. I can take a cab.”

The women joined the men in the hallway as Grant reminded his cousin, “You’re not in the city. Taxis aren’t exactly lined up outside the B and B.”

Meg found her voice. “The rental place is on my way—I have to run into town to see the florist.” The reminder of her duties as wedding coordinator steadied her. She sounded competent again when she told Lucy, “You and Grant enjoy the spa. And I’ll come up with something to occupy your mother later to keep her away from you. As for your orange maid of honor, text her a reminder to exfoliate and I’ll see if Mrs. Hoffman can whip up some kind of lemon-juice solution.”

The bride-to-be exhaled. “I can’t imagine my wedding day without you, Meg.”

“Funny.” Scott lowered his voice as the happy couple descended the stairs toward the coatrack. “There was a time when I would’ve said the same thing.”

Scott sat rigidly in the passenger seat, reminding himself that he was a doctor. He had mastered clinical detachment. No way in hell would he give in to the maelstrom of emotions churning inside him.

Meg cleared her throat. “About what you said on the staircase—”

“Forget it. That was just the surprise talking.”

When Grant had said they were meeting Lucy “and Meg,” Scott hadn’t thought anything of it. Meg was a common enough name…and could there be a less likely wedding coordinator than Meg Nichols? The way he remembered it, the mere mention of marriage had sent her fleeing to the nearest exit. Or maybe it was just the idea of marriage to him.

They’d met at an upscale bakery around the corner from the hospital. Meg had worked there as a pastry chef. When she’d dumped Scott—in a letter, for crying out loud—she’d almost cured his lifelong sweet tooth. To this day, he couldn’t breathe in the scent of chocolate without missing her. Which annoyed the hell out of him.

“So, uh, when did you get into town?” Meg asked, filling the strained silence.

“Drove my parents in last night. I let them borrow my car today to tour a historical museum on the other side of the county.” Otherwise, he’d have his own mode of transportation right now and wouldn’t be dependent on the only woman who’d ever broken his heart.

You’re over it, he reminded himself. Clinical detachment. That’s the ticket. He was determined not to let himself pine for someone who’d walked away without a backward glance.




Chapter Three (#ulink_9aca705c-bdc6-5dc3-a5f9-e07d161e1995)


Meg parked in front of the shopping center where the tuxedo rental place was located. After their tense car ride, she’d never been happier to reach a destination, including the time her parents had decided on a spur-of-the-moment fourteen-hour road trip to the Grand Canyon.

But she smiled at him and said, “This is it. Let’s get you all James Bonded.”

Scott unfastened his seat belt. “So you’re in the business of cummerbunds and seating arrangements now? I ran into your old neighbor Richie Carlisle a few months ago. He seemed to think you were training to be a police officer.”

“Private investigator.” Had Richie volunteered the update, or had Scott specifically asked about her? “I only took a couple of classes out of curiosity.” Prior to that, there’d been a brief stint as a salsa instructor. She’d lost that job when she’d socked a groping client in the shoulder.

Her lack of a career up to this point wasn’t surprising. The Nichols sisters had been raised to “follow their bliss.” Brooke, the younger sibling, was in her own way the family rebel. She’d always been cautiously conservative—perhaps too cautious. But who was Meg to criticize? She’d reached her mid-thirties with nothing to show for her life but a patchwork quilt of short-lived jobs and relationships. Her sister, on the other hand, was now happily married and the mother of a beautiful baby.

Meg had never expected her sister to ask her to be her niece’s godmother. “Please say you will, Meg. If anything were to happen to Jake and me… ““

Meg, potentially responsible for a baby? It had caused her to take a long, hard look at herself and make some changes.

Scott opened the door to the mall’s main entrance. As she passed him, she tried not to notice the heat from his body or the familiar smell of his soap.

She took a steadying breath. “You said you ran into Richie. Does that mean you’re still in Houston?”

“More or less. I work in a pediatric practice in one of the communities outside the city.”

“Exactly as you planned,” she said, glad for his success.

“Not ‘exactly.’” His voice was gruff.“ I’d pictured my life a little differently.”

Did he mean her and the future he’d wanted them to have? Meg’s chest tightened. They’d hit it off immediately, and their resulting affair had burned hot and quick. But their goals had ultimately been too different—or they would have been, if she’d had any clear goals.

Well, she did now. At the top of that list was making this weekend magical for Lucy while at the same time proving herself to be a competent wedding planner to the Houston socialites in attendance. Which meant she couldn’t allow herself to be distracted by Scott.

Meg reminded herself that Lucy had chosen her for good reason. Lucy came from a very wealthy family and had feared that if she had the wedding at home, her mom would have turned it into a three-ring circus of VIPs. Lucy had wanted a more intimate affair in the Hill Country, where Grant had proposed during their vacation last year. They were getting married on the first Saturday of February so that they would be in Paris—and past their jet lag—by Valentine’s Day. Très romantic.

Meg turned the corner with a sigh.

“Everything all right?” Scott asked.

“I just think Lucy and Grant are very lucky. I—” She broke off when the phone in her pants pocket began buzzing. “Better grab this. It’s from the church. Meg Nichols speaking.”

She frowned as the man on the other end launched into a string of apologies and garbled explanation. She was so startled by the news that it took her brain a moment to translate what she was hearing. “Wait! What do you mean they can’t have the wedding at the church?”




Chapter Four (#ulink_34074ff2-2a32-50ec-acec-262adb6db206)


Scott watched in alarm as Meg went sheet-white. He hadn’t seen a woman look so close to fainting since his E.R. days when a young mother had brought in a five-year-old with a head wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding.

Holding Meg’s elbow, he steered her toward a nearby bench. She’d disconnected the phone call, her expression stricken.

“I’m going out on a limb here—that wasn’t good news?” He tried for a joking tone, but it sounded flat. He remembered laughing all the time with Meg. She’d always been able to find the amusing and absurd in any situation, a welcome change from his occasionally grim shifts at the hospital. Now, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d really laughed. When had joking around with other people started to feel forced and unnatural? With kids, he could still tap into just enough silliness to calm their fears, but that was more bedside manner than an indication of who he really was.

“The church cancelled,” Meg said woodenly. “I can’t believe this! The weather finally warmed up a couple of degrees and now the pipes burst?”

“Sometimes the worst damage comes when frozen pipes start to thaw,” he told her. “Places around here, where freezes are rare, aren’t as prepared as facilities up north.”

She blinked. “I don’t mean to sound insensitive about the damage to the church and the cleanup they’re facing, but Lucy’s wedding is the day after tomorrow! What am I going to do? She’s already a nervous wreck. How am I supposed to tell her this on top of everything else?”

Scott sat next to her. In another lifetime, he would have put his arm around her, pulled her into a comforting embrace. The temptation was there, but…getting that close to Meg, letting her past the wall of cool reserve that protected him? It would be like those frozen pipes that had started to thaw and then crack: disaster. She’d hurt him once. Only a fool would risk becoming emotionally vulnerable to her again.

“You’re really taking this hard,” he observed, at a loss for what to say.

“It’s my job!”

“Your latest job.”

Color came back to her cheeks as she glared at him, brown eyes flashing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You do have a history of bailing when things get difficult, Meg.” The anger that washed through him caught him off guard. He hadn’t planned to get personal. But maybe he needed this closure, since the way she’d left him—and subsequently dodged his calls—hadn’t allowed him to properly say goodbye. She’d even quit the bakery, effectively disappearing from his life. “Are you sure you’re going to stick around and help Lucy through this? Wouldn’t it be easier just to wash your hands of the whole mess and leave her a note wishing her well?”

“I would never do that!”

His gaze clashed with hers, challenging.

Meg ducked her head, blushing with guilt even as she insisted, “Lucy can count on me.”

“Then you were right earlier. She is lucky.” He got to his feet. “A lot luckier than I was.”




Chapter Five (#ulink_6092f514-32d9-581f-9a35-9dd8c158b00d)


By the time Meg caught up to Scott’s long-legged stride, he was inside the tux shop, explaining to a store employee why a change in the rental order was necessary. Meg took a seat in the waiting area and thumbed through a catalogue. But the glossy photos of grinning grooms and wedding guests only highlighted her problems.

Like Lucy—and her lack of a church for the ceremony!

Meg had been so startled by the pain and anger in Scott’s gaze that she’d almost forgotten about her client. She’d rarely seen him angry. He’d remained tolerant of patients even when they disregarded his sound medical advice and further injured themselves. He’d even seemed understanding when he’d first told Meg he loved her and she couldn’t quite bring herself to return the sentiment.

“No pressure,” he’d told her. “I just wanted you to know how I felt.” Yet once she had been able to admit that she did love him, he’d immediately started talking about marriage. How was that “no pressure”?

In retrospect, his pattern was clear. From coaxing her into staying the night after they’d made love, to seemingly casual comments that she would make a great mom someday, he’d always been subtly pushing her toward the future he wanted.

Perpetually unstable Meg, a wife and mother? Not likely. She would have been a bitter disappointment to him.

She glared down at the tuxedo brochure, where a newly married couple appeared inanely giddy with joy. “Stop looking so smug,” she grumbled. “You don’t know everything.” Not everyone rode the honeymoon limo into the fairy-tale sunset.

But if she had anything to say about it, Lucy and Grant sure as heck would!

Meg dropped the annoying catalogue and pulled out her cell phone. She dialed Bertha Hoffman, their bed-and-breakfast owner who’d grown up in this area. Why not brainstorm possible solutions before telling the bride-to-be that there was a problem?




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