Hot Docs On Call: His Christmas Wish. Susan Carlisle

so. It’s really no big deal.”

      “He thinks it is a big deal. So does his wife. They are very grateful you were there.”

      McKenzie wasn’t sure what Lance expected her to say. She’d just been at the right place at the right time and had helped do what had needed to be done.

      “He wants us to ride on his float in the Christmas parade.”

      “What?”

      “He invited us to ride on his float this Saturday.”

      “I don’t want to be in the Christmas parade.” Once upon a time she’d have loved to ride on a Christmas parade float.

      “You a Scrooge?”

      “No, but I don’t want to ride on a Christmas float and wave at people who are staring at me.”

      Ever since her fighting parents had caused a scene at school and her entire class had stared at McKenzie, as if she had somehow been responsible, McKenzie had hated being the center of attention.

      “That’s fine,” he said, not fazed by her reticence. “I’ll do the waving and you stare at me.”

      “How is that supposed to keep them from staring at me?”

      “I’m pretty sure everyone will be staring at the mayor and not us.”

      “I hope you told him no.”

      The corner of his mouth lifted in a half grin. “You’d hope wrong.”

      She stopped walking. “I’m not into being a spectacle.”

      She’d felt that way enough as a child thanks to her parents’ antics. She wouldn’t purposely put herself in that position again.

      “How is participating in a community Christmas parade being a spectacle?”

      She supposed he made a good point, but still…

      “Besides, don’t people stare at you when you run your races?”

      “Long-distance running doesn’t exactly draw a fan base.” She started toward his car again.

      “That a hint for me to come cheer you on at your next run?”

      She shook her head. “I don’t need anyone to cheer me on.”

      “What if I want to cheer you on?”

      She shook her head again. She didn’t want him or anyone else watching her run. She didn’t want to expect someone to be there and then them possibly not show up. To run because she loved running was one thing. To run and think someone was there, supporting her, and them not really be, well, she’d felt that disappointment multiple times throughout her childhood and she’d really prefer not to go down that road again.

      Some things just weren’t worth repeating.

      “I tell you what, if you want to come to one of my races, that’s fine. But not as a cheerleader. If you want to come,” she challenged, stopping at his car’s passenger side, “you run.”

      He opened the car door and grinned. “You’re inviting me to be on your team? I like the sound of that.”

      “There are no teams in the races I run.”

      “No? Well, maybe you’re running in the wrong races.”

      “I’m not.” She climbed into the seat and pulled the door to. She could hear his laughter as he rounded the car.

      “You have yourself a deal, McKenzie,” he said as he climbed into the driver’s seat and buckled his seat belt. “I’ll run with you. When’s your next race?”

      “I just did a half marathon on Saturday morning.” She thought over her schedule a moment. “I’m signed up for one on New Year’s Day morning. You should be able to still get signed up. It’s a local charity run so the guidelines aren’t strict.”

      “Length?”

      “It’s not a real long one, just a five-kilometer. Think you can do that?” she challenged. He was fit, but being fit didn’t mean one could run. She’d learned that with a few friends who’d wanted to go with her. They’d been exercise queens, but not so much into running. McKenzie was the opposite. She was way too uncoordinated to do dancing, or anything that required group coordination, but she was a boss when it came to running.

      His lips twitched with obvious amusement at her challenge. “You don’t have the exclusive on running, you know.”

      “I’ve never seen you out running,” she pointed out.

      “You’ve never seen me take a shower either, but I promise you I do so on a regular basis.”

      Lance. In the shower. Naked. Water sluicing over his body. She gulped. Not an image she wanted in her head. “Probably all cold ones.”

      Maybe she needed a cold one to douse the images of him in the shower because her imagination was going hot, hot, hot.

      He chuckled. “Only lately.”

      That got her attention. “You’re taking cold showers because of me?”

      “What do you think?”

      “That we shouldn’t be having this conversation.” She stared at him, unable to help asking again. “I’m really why you need to take cold showers lately?”

      He grinned. “I was only teasing, McKenzie. I haven’t taken a cold shower in years.”

      “That I believe.”

      “But not that I might be rejected and need cold water?”

      “I doubt you’re rejected often.”

      “Rarely, but it does happen from time to time.”

      “Is that why you’re here with me?”

      “Because you rejected me?” He shook his head. “I’m here with you because you were smart enough to say yes to getting frozen yogurt with me.”

      “And real food,” she reminded him as he put his car into reverse. “Don’t forget you have to feed me real food before plying me with dessert.”

      McKenzie closed her mouth around her spoonful of frozen birthday-cake yogurt and slowly pulled the utensil from her mouth, leaving behind some of the cold, creamy substance.

      “Good?”

      Her gaze cut to the man sitting across the small round table from her. “What do you think?”

      “That watching you eat frozen yogurt should come with a black-label warning.”

      “Am I dangerous to your health?”

      “Just my peace of mind.”

      McKenzie’s lips twitched. “That makes us even.”

      They’d gone to a local steak house and McKenzie had gotten grilled chicken, broccoli and a side salad. She’d been so full when they’d left the restaurant that if not for Lance’s insistence that they do their part to support the Toys for Tots, she’d have begged off dessert. She’d been happy to discover the old adage about there always being room for ice cream had held true for frozen yogurt. She was enjoying the cold goodness.

      She was also enjoying the company.

      Lance had kept their conversation light, fun. They’d talked about everything from their favorite sports teams, to which McKenzie had had to admit she didn’t actually have favorites, to talking about medical school. They’d argued in fun about a new reality singing television program she’d been surprised to learn he watched. Often she’d sit and have the show on while she was logged in to the clinic’s remote computer system and working on her charts. He did the