The Maverick Who Ruled Her Heart. Susan Carlisle

down the good-time-girl rep she’d gained as a high-school and college student. It was hard to convince people who had known her during those times to take her seriously now. She wanted to go somewhere she could start afresh.

      “Yeah. I’m putting my money on you. I need a new bathing suit so do what you can to help me out.”

      “I don’t think so.” Both woman mentioned were very attractive and seemed to make a point of meeting and dating the newest and most attractive men at the hospital, from the emergency crew to the administration office to the latest unattached doctor. Kelsey had moved past those fun and games.

      Kelsey checked the large round clock on the wall and picked up the folder she’d laid out the night before that included pamphlets and handouts for the diabetes class.

      “Got to go. We going to meet for lunch?”

      “Sure. Whichever one of us gets to the table under the tree first claims it.”

      “Will do.”

      Late September beside the coast made it pleasant to eat outside. She and Molly, along with other staff members, fought over the coveted table under the large oak tree where the sun wouldn’t beam down on them at noon. The other tables and chairs placed around the area weren’t always as lucky.

      Kelsey gathered her folder to her chest and went out the door. “Later.”

      Jordon drove up Main Street on his way to the hospital. He remembered the road well. He’d traveled it hundreds of times with his parents. As an only child he’d done almost everything with them.

      Golden Shores hadn’t changed much through the years. It was still a sleepy beach town that grew even more relaxed after the summer crowd had gone home. The storefronts were neat and in good repair. Baskets of late summer flowers, blooming yellow, red and blue, hung from the light poles at each intersection. This small insignificant town had been the last place he’d felt like he’d had a real home.

      Pulling his SUV into the palm-lined drive of the hospital and following the signs to the designated doctors’ parking lot, he found an open spot. Stepping out of the vehicle, he inhaled deeply. The spicy scent of salt filled his nostrils. After spending so many years in snow during the winter, it was going to be nice to live here.

      Jordon rolled his wrist and checked his watch. He was due for a meeting in twenty minutes. Last week he’d spent an entire day in Personnel, being issued his ID and getting acquainted with hospital procedures. Thank goodness he had no plans to ever leave so he’d not have to sit through one of those again.

      With a quirk to his lips he punched in the number he’d been given for the doctors’ entrance. He’d left the high-tech world of a large northern Virginia hospital where swiping a card for entry was the norm to the simple but effective push-button code.

      Twenty minutes and two wrong turns later, he found the education classroom he was looking for. He stopped and double-checked the plaque by the door. This was the correct place.

      Inside, a soft raspy voice said, “Today I’m going to be sharing some tips on how to eat well and at the same time tasty.”

      Looking into the room through the open door, he saw a dozen or so people sitting in chairs arranged in rows.

      A man almost as round as he was tall said in a gruff voice. “All I can tell is that I can have a half a head of lettuce and nothing about that is tasty.”

      Everyone in the room laughed.

      The voice responded, “Now, Mr. Franklin. You know that should only be a quarter of a head.”

      Again everyone chuckled.

      Jordon stepped into the room and came to a jerking halt. The woman from the party was standing in front of the room. It was her voice he’d heard.

      They stared at each other. She looked very familiar for some reason. He’d thought about her a couple of times since their meeting, trying to figure out where he knew her from. Could she be one of Chad’s sisters? What if she was? Would she recognize him?

      What he could remember of the youngest was that she had been around all the time. She’d been sweet, cute even, but way too young. He’d thought then, if you were just a little older …

      Today her hair lay along her head in a boyish cut. And she wore bangs, pink and black glasses with polka dots on them, a simple hot-pink shirt and black slacks. Above her shoulders she seemed to come from a more unconventional world and below them from a conservative one.

      So Miss Goodtime was the nutritionist. She seemed to recover from her surprise quicker than he did. “Uh, can I help you? If you’re looking for the dietetic class, this is the place.”

      “Then I’m in the right place.”

      She waved a hand in the direction of an empty seat. “Then please join us.” Her words sounded calm but from the slight tremor of her hand he could tell his appearance had flustered her.

      “Thanks. I’m Dr. Jordon King.”

      At the sound of her hiss his head jerked up to meet her gaze. Her face had paled. What was going on?

      He looked out at the group, hoping to give her time to recover from whatever the problem was. “I’m the hospitalist who will be caring for you if you’re ever admitted. I hope that doesn’t happen but I’ll be here if you need me. I’m going to stay for the class so if you have any questions just let me know.”

      He took a chair behind the last person in the room and settled in. It had been a long time since he’d had time to sit through a presentation on diet and nutrition. It would be a nice refresher.

      Despite having been put off by the demeanor of the woman at the front of the room’s at the Beach Hut the other night, he found her professional and competent during her presentation of what to eat and portion control. She asked if there were any questions. A number of hands shot up.

      She pointed to a balding man about halfway back and said, “Mr. Rawlins.”

      “Can I ever have cake?”

      “In moderation only. Think birthdays and special occasions. Not nightly with ice cream.”

      There were groans around the room but she smiled. “Look, I’m not the bad guy here. Diabetes is. We’re talking about a lifestyle change.”

      That’s just what Jordon was doing. He would never have dreamt that he’d be back in Golden Shores. He had been on the fast track up the professional ladder. Had even been touted as possibly the youngest chief of staff, but backing his girlfriend and partner hadn’t only cost Jordon his job but his credibility, his self-respect and his confidence in his ability to judge character. He planned to regain all of that in Golden Shores. This was his chance to start over with a clean slate. The woman’s chuckle brought him back to the present. He didn’t even know her full name. As soon as the class was over he was going to find out.

      “Maybe that’s a better question for Dr. King.”

      He jerked his gaze to hers. “I’m sorry, I missed that.”

      “Daydreaming in my class, Doc?”

      All the class turned to look at him.

      “Just for a sec. My apologies. Now, what was the question?” He stood and looked around the room expectantly.

      “I would like to know,” a woman of about thirty asked in a quiet voice, “if there’s a chance that I might come off insulin.”

      “It depends on what type of diabetes you have. Some people can control the disease with weight, others can take a pill and others require injections. Speak to your doctor and let him or her know that you would like to try.”

      The woman smiled at him and said, “Thanks, Doctor.”

      The speaker drew the group’s attention again.

      “That’s all for today unless someone else has a question.”