Second Chance at Love Page 7

  “Yes and he’s tall, has these piercing blue eyes, and he’s gorgeous beyond belief. But he’s a bit stuffy. He’s always superbly dressed and rarely smiles, but he’s very polite and he loves his kids to pieces. He has this brazen swagger that’s cocky, but he’s a doctor, you know? I guess it comes with the territory. I ran into him in the admin office one day and stammered like an idiot. Karen said he looks like one of those beefy warriors from those swords and sandals movies.”

  “Does he have short, black hair and—”

  Peyton and Carrie turned when they heard the knock on the door and then it opened. Standing in the doorway was the bane of her existence.

  “Dr. Popovich, so good to see you again.” Carrie went over and shook his hand. “This is the interim art teacher, Ms. Colfax. She’s filling in for Ms. Meyers, the regular art teacher.”

  “We’ve met,” Alex said.

  “Dr. Popovich.” Peyton gulped. This was the hot, enigmatic doctor the staff was swooning over? She knew him as the crazy nut who’d hit her car and dunked her in the tank. She wanted to grab an eraser and slap him across his chiseled face. But she had to keep her composure.

  “Ms. Colfax.” He came over and extended his hand. “You’re the art teacher my Chloe’s been raving about.”

  Carried nudged her, so Peyton shook his hand. “I’m glad you could make it. I’d like to show you what wondrous imaginations your children have.”

  “I’ll let you two get started,” Carrie said and walked out of the room and closed the door behind her.

  She didn’t want Carrie to leave, but this was ridiculous. He was just a man. A damn good-looking man who’d been a pain in her backside since the day they met. But still just a man.

  “Please have a seat.” She tucked in her dress and began to sit.

  “I prefer to stand.”

  “Of course you do.” She rose back out of the chair. “So you’re a doctor?”

  “And a damn good one, just like my baseball skills.” he said. “You’re an art teacher. That imagination of yours explains the propensity for seeing things that aren’t there, like your version of our fender bender.”

  “Your profession explains the big ego and delusions of grandeur.”

  “It’s only delusional if it’s not true.”

  “Noah and Chloe are a joy. Apparently manners skip a generation in your family.” She fumbled with the stack of papers and almost knocked over a cup filled with colored pencils. “Shall we get started?”

  “Are you nervous, Miss Colfax?” He gave her a knowing smile.

  “It’s Ms. Colfax, and not in the slightest.” She held up one of Noah’s drawings. “As you can see, Noah loves cars and sports. Actually, a lot of his work is sports themed.”

  “It’s in his blood. You can already attest to my awesome baseball throwing skills. And his uncle is a professional hockey player. He plays for the Philadelphia Pirates.”

  “Derek Popovich?”

  “Yes.”

  “OK. Then that explains this next piece.” She turned to a drawing of a hockey mask. “I thought he maybe liked horror movies. He’s just related to one of the best goalies in the NHL.”

  “Yes.” He laughed and scratched at his temple.

  “Noah’s work is progressing. He’s good with planned projects, but he really lets loose when he’s doing graphic arts on the computer and when he has his free form time.”

  “Free form?”

  “I give the kids ten to fifteen minutes to do what they want. It gives me a chance to see what their interests are and if there’s something I could introduce into the lesson plan.”

  “Oh. That’s a good idea.”

  “Next we have Chloe.” She opened another portfolio folder and spread out her artwork. “She is one of my best students. She loves painting and drawing, and I think she’ll be ready for pottery next month.”

  “We went to the craft store last weekend. I have to admit we went a little crazy in there. But she likes so many things, I thought she should experiment.”

  “It’s nice that you’re encouraging her artistic abilities.” She bit her lip.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “She spends a lot of her free form time drawing herself with a woman. I believe it’s her mom.” She went over to the other side of the room and retrieved a drawing from Chloe’s cubbyhole. Chloe had drawn a picture of herself and a woman holding hands. The woman had what appeared to be a halo above her head. “How long has it been since her mom passed away?”

  “It’s been a few years. She’s still processing it.” Alex tensed as he looked over the picture. “I wouldn’t read too much into it.”

  “I will keep an eye on her.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “Sometimes art is used as an outlet for purging our emotions in a safe, creative space. I’d like to help in any way I can. I just wanted you to be aware she may be missing her mom and her drawings are one of the ways it manifests. An artist’s work is like a glimpse inside their soul.”

  “Is that why you like to paint and take landscape photos?” He put Chloe’s drawing on the desk. “I have one of your works of art hanging on my office wall. I find it to be a very interesting glimpse into your psyche.”

  “How so?”

  “There are no people in them.”

  “No people is less complicated.”

  “But unrealistic.”

  “Every artist puts a piece of themselves into whatever medium they use to create. Happiness, pain, it’s all a culmination of the storm brewing within us that compels us to bring a work of art to life. I can’t imagine you’d understand, being a doctor.”

  “How so?”

  “Medicine is more science than art.”

  “So?”

  “You seem more like a linear thinking kind of guy.”

  “I’ve been told I’m a Picasso in the operating room.”

  She squinted at him. “You’re good with machine parts. Human machine parts. You can’t express yourself while repairing a heart valve.”

  “It’s absolute. There’s no interpretation. If something’s broke, you fix it. Chloe’s work doesn’t exhibit anything any other girl her age would draw or paint who’d lost her mother. You make it a big deal. It becomes a big deal.”

  “I’m not making it a big deal. I just said I’ll still be keeping an eye on her, just in case. Sometimes an outside observer can be insightful.”

  “I appreciate you taking the time. But I know my daughter.”

  “It’s not about your ego.” She struggled to keep her voice calm. “You may be too close to see things objectively.”

  “Or maybe your imagination is running away from you.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Look around this room. It’s like some magical fairyland.”

  “It’s decorated to encourage a creative energy. The colors are meant to excite and inspire. It usually perks everyone up and puts them in a good mood. I should have known it wouldn’t work on you.”

  “It’s my scientific mind. I’m not that easily persuaded by an overzealous color scheme and a few clay pots.”

  “Those are vases and candy dishes.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Ever think about unclenching? You are way too tense.”

  “You have a suggestion on how to relax?” He moved closer to her.

  “Yes. Try meditation or yoga. It does wonders for me.”

  “Like I said, I’ve learned quite a bit about your psyche, from seeing your work.”

  “You don’t know anything about me. Certainly not from one framed photograph.”

  “You love landscapes. Again, with no people in them.”

  “I like an untouched backdrop. People just complicate things.” Peyton ran her hand over her hair.

  “And you don’t do complicated?”

  Peyton looked into his penetrating eyes, but couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He’d managed to shift the conversation from his daughter’s art
work to her motivation for being an artist. She hated herself for letting him get the upper hand. Narcissists like him liked to think they could persuade people to do anything they wanted. The teaching staff may have been in love, but she wasn’t fooled by the nice suits and enigmatic demeanor. He had a weakness, and it was his own inflated ego.

  The commotion outside the door was a welcome distraction. Carrie must have locked the door when she left. Peyton eased around Alex.

  “My next appointment is here.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Have a good night, Dr. Popovich.” She lifted her chin. “Try not to run over anyone on the way out of the parking lot.”

  “Good night, Ms. Colfax.” He grinned as he opened the door and exited.

  Later that night after she’d finally made it home, she kicked off her shoes and poured a hefty glass of pinot noir. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was still reeling from her talk with Dr. Ego. The teachers were still abuzz from his appearance well after he’d left the building. The entire thing was highly annoying.

  He may not have believed Chloe’s drawing pointed to an underlying issue, but she’d still keep watch. She liked the little girl and enjoyed having her in the class. Despite her dislike of Dr. Ego, it tugged at her heart to know he was a widower. She couldn’t begin to imagine the pain he must still be feeling about the loss of his wife. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he was the kind of man who loved passionately and deeply. It would probably be all or nothing with him for the woman brave enough to engage in a romantic dance with him.

  She couldn’t get the smell of his cologne out of her head. It was earthy, masculine yet sophisticated, just like him. She went into the bedroom and changed into a T-shirt and a pair of her favorite jeans, paint-covered and with holes, then headed for the spare room she used as a studio. She flipped on the light and assessed her brushes. Luckily she’d cleaned them all and they were ready to go. She put a few colors on her palette, then looked at the blank canvas. As soon as she sat on the stool, Alex’s face flashed in her mind. Those damn eyes and that sexy smile, the one on his face after he’d dunked her in the tank.

  Funny, Carrie said he didn’t smile much, yet he smiled every time she saw him. It was hypnotic, and the possibilities were endless for those luscious lips of his. She touched her brush to the canvas, and a sense of peace came over her. With each stroke she made, she thought about Alex. She hadn’t been this excited about painting in a while.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Alex leaned against the fence as Chloe and Noah rode by on their horses. When Charisma heard the kids would be taking lessons, she sent her niece a proper equestrian outfit with riding boots, blazer, and a helmet. Noah didn’t want anything fancy, so Charisma sent him a pair of cowboy boots.

  It was nice to come to Austin’s ranch after the busy week they’d had. It was official: he and the kids had developed a groove. It was a culmination of school, work, and the activities the kids had joined. It was good to see them becoming part of the community. He had the home association ladies to thank for that.

  Noah’s new friend Sebastian was especially impressed that Derek was Noah’s uncle. He was a Pirates fan. No surprise there. Noah promised he’d introduce his friend to Derek the next time he was in town. Word must have spread, because Noah had become quite popular. He knew his son had a good head on his shoulders and would be able to weed out who was really being a friend and who was just using him to meet a sports star. Meanwhile, Chloe enjoyed her dance classes. The instructor was delighted at how advanced Chloe was, and she fell in line with the advanced class just fine. They were preparing for a recital in the coming months.

  He could tell his kids still missed their old lives in Portland, and they kept in touch with a few friends. But they no longer complained about the differences in the new house from their old one and finally admitted that they liked having more space. They had big spacious rooms, but they still played together. They might argue from time to time, that was expected, but he liked that they were close. What he feared the most was that they missed the old house because they missed their mom. It was no longer a short drive up to Washington to the cemetery where she was buried. It had been hard knowing he’d be that far away from her final resting place. He’d visited her grave a lot when she’d first died; he’d needed to feel connected to her.

  It was Derek who told him the kids needed his time and attention. He’d relied on Derek a lot back then. After trying to keep it together as he planned her funeral, it was in Derek’s arms that he broke down in while trying to pick out a dress to take to the funeral home. It had been agonizing looking at his wife’s favorite dress, a lovely blue dress with a white lace trim on the collar, knowing it was the last thing she was going to wear.

  Derek comforted him as he grieved, and he knew that was the reason his younger brother also encouraged him to get back out there and enjoy life. He’d been a wonderful brother and a great friend. It was in that moment that Alex knew his playboy brother was going to make a fine husband and father one day. And that day had come. Derek adored Charisma and Alexis. It showed every time he gushed about something his baby daughter did, or when he boasted about what a fantastic partner Charisma was for him. Derek was happy that there was something more important than hockey in his life. It was keeping him grounded and hopeful about the future he wanted to build for his family.

  Even though the kids were settling in, Alex was still trying to find his way at the hospital. While his assistant Stella loved him, the rest of the cardiac care staff, not so much. He hated that people tensed up when they saw him coming, but he’d wanted to keep up the reputation he’d been developing for being a perfectionist. He demanded the best from his staff because patients counted on them for excellent care. Unfortunately, he also wasn’t getting anywhere with the clinic idea. They would change the subject whenever he brought it up at the department head meetings. But that only made him determined to try harder. Grayson complained that only Alex could take a cushy position that allowed for endless golfing and three-hour lunches and turn it into a job, but he liked keeping busy. It kept him from doing stupid things like thinking about Peyton.

  “Hi, Daddy!” Chloe gave a quick wave as she rode by again before tightening her grip on the rein. “Isn’t my horse beautiful? Her name is Peyton Place.”

  “Looking good, sweetie.” Alex waved back, then turned to his son, who had picked up speed. “Noah, slow down.”

  “Dad,” Noah groaned.

  It was amazing how each of his kids could make the word “dad” sound both joyous and annoying. They were growing up so fast. He wished there was a way to keep them this age before they turned into monstrous teenagers. Noah would be off to middle school soon. Wait a minute. Did Chloe just say the horse’s name was Peyton Place?

  Austin saw him and ambled over. “Alex. Good to see you.”

  “Good to see you too. Thanks again for the lessons.”

  “Like I said, we’re family.” Austin looked at the kids.

  “I brought sandwiches from that deli on Main Street.”

  “Cool.” Austin rubbed his hands together. “They have this homemade coleslaw that is to die for.”

  “I brought plenty of it and that tangy deli mustard.”

  “Sounds great. We can go up to the house as soon as the kids are done.” Austin nodded. “How are you adjusting to life in Harper’s Grove?”

  “Work and the kids keep me pretty busy.” He laughed. “Really, I’d like to do something for you since you’ve been so generous to give the kids free lessons.”

  Austin thought for a moment. “How about we go out for drinks one night?”

  Why not? He’d finally called quarterback Riley Sloane’s sister, Aubrey, about babysitting. Derek recommended her one night when he was lamenting about not having a sitter so he could go to an evening job event. Aubrey attended college not too far away. She’d be coming to the house for a meet and greet. If things worked out, he could go out o
ne night for a few hours.

  “I’d like that,” Alex said.

  “There’s the Lazy L Cantina. It’s a decent bar, with music and dancing. It’s not fancy; there’s sawdust on the floor and a mechanical bull in the corner. They serve the best wings in the area. The Green Olive is the hot spot in town. We can go any night except Wednesdays.”

  “Why not Wednesdays?”

  “It’s their singles theme night. Women come from miles around to that bar, hoping to land a rich guy. You’ll be like catnip to all those divorcee soccer moms. They can get relentless.”

  Ah. That’s why Grayson was trying to get him to go out for drinks last Wednesday at that restaurant. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, there are some great ladies in this sleepy town, but it can get serious real quick. Like three dates and they want space in your closet.” Austin shook his head.

  “And I take it you’re not looking for a commitment?”

  “I am looking for some peace and quiet.” Austin looked around. “And I’ve found it. I hear you made quite an impression on a good friend of mine.”

  “Who?”

  “Peyton Colfax. You had the mishap with her in the school parking lot. She’s salt of the earth and talented as hell.” Austin smiled. “She took the brochure photos for the ranch.”

  “She’s maddening, as I’m sure you already know.”

  Austin bit back a smile. “She’s a sweetheart. I find her to be very charming.”

  “Chloe said her horse’s name is Peyton Place.”

  “Sure is. The second I laid eyes on her I knew she had Peyton’s spirit.”

  “Did you two ever date?” he couldn’t help but ask. Austin was grinning pretty hard, like he had a juicy secret.

  “No. It hurts my heart to say we’re just friends and have never been anything more.”

  “Why not?”

  “She has a way of looking into your eyes and peering right into your soul. I’m not ready for anybody to see what’s deep down inside.”