Page 13 of Doctor Holliday
Which was almost worse. His ex-wife shouldn’t have a reason to dig those damned proverbial claws into him now, but she did now and then. Keaton was a good dad; they shared custody of Ruby. Hell, Ruby was his life. Everything he did now was about his little girl. He paid child support—always on time. Helped Ruby with schoolwork. Played pitch and catch with her. Took her to extracurricular events. And yet, now and then, Alyssa would throw a sucker punch at him and tear him a new assholebecause he had a taillight out in his truck. Or because he had called her sister a witch seventeen years ago in a long-forgotten screaming match. Long forgotten to him anyway.
When he called last night, after bringing the doctor back to her SUV and then driving home, he fully expected Alyssa to unload on him. About calling her for Dr. Holliday’s number rather than just calling 911. Hell, he wouldn’t have been surprised if his ex would have launched into how he was a terrible person because his stockroom wasn’t set up for delivering a baby.
The only thing he knew she would never accuse him of was hurting a child. Any child.
This was his weekend with Ruby, so he would pick her up after school. Ruby had asked him to make fried chicken for her tonight. Alyssa had done the lion’s share of the cooking when they were married, but Keaton knew his way around the kitchen. He had promised Ruby fried chicken if she promised to eat the vegetable he fixed. Her promise was punctuated by a few giggles, so Keaton assumed she had crossed her fingers and had no intention of eating any asparagus.
“Not open yet!” he called when the front door of the store opened. No bell alerted him to the visitor. No muted electronic chime. But he could tell from the shift in the air and the sound of traffic getting louder for a moment that the door had been opened.
“Hey.”
He looked up from the long fluorescent bulb over the counter when he heard the familiar voice. Lucy Holliday offered him a smile as she made her way to the customer service counter.Dressed in scrubs, she carried two paper coffee cups and held one out in offering to him as she approached the counter.
“Hi.” Keaton smiled and took the cup. “What’s this for?”
She shrugged and shook her head. “Last night.”
“You did the heavy lifting,” he reminded her.
Lucy laughed and rested her cup on the counter.
“Still. I appreciate that you helped. That you called me rather than insisting on 911 when she was clearly distressed about it.”
Keaton lifted the cup, but he hesitated before he drank.
“Plain black,” she told him. “Wasn’t sure how you take it.”
“Plain black,” he said with a smile. He took a small sip and swallowed the scalding hot liquid quickly.
“Also wanted to thank you for understanding I couldn’t give you any information last night.”
Keaton sighed and lifted his gaze to the front window of the store. “Not my business. I just…” He cleared his throat. “Makes me feel helpless.”
“I know.” Lucy nodded. “So.” She looked at the ladder over his shoulder and climbed the rungs with her eyes.
“This is what I was planning to do last night when I found her.” He tipped his head back to look at the dark area just above his head. “Not sure how a bulb goes out that quickly, but here we are.”
“When do you officially open?” She looked around the store but landed her gaze back on him.
“Ribbon cutting and all that crap is next Friday, but I might do a soft opening earlier in the week.”
“All that crap,” she repeated with a grin. “A guy that opens a store like this…” She swept her gaze over the shelves stocked with home décor items, a lot of which Keaton had hand made himself, before looking at him again. “Probably getsinto all that crap.”
He laughed and leaned into the counter.
“Not so much,” he argued. “I like nice things. I like working with wood.” The words felt a little charged as he spoke them. He wasn’t sure from the smile on her face if she heard the double entendre, but he mentally berated himself for phrasing it that way. “Not so much into a spotlight.”
“Still.” She shrugged. “It’ll bring attention to your place. You’ll need that in the beginning. Did you have a store front before?”
“No.” He took another drink of the coffee and put the cup down. “I have a shop at my house where I do the work. Sold some stuff from home now and then. I have an online store front. But this whole retail thing is new to me.”
“What made you decide to do it?”
Keaton eyed her quietly for a moment, wondering if she was truly interested or just being polite.
“I worked in an office setting for years. IT. Turned forty this last year and decided to give it a shot. It’s something…my ex-wife and I talked about when we were younger. She’s an artist. She wanted a place for her work.”
Lucy sipped her own drink and aimed wide eyes at him over the top of her cup.