How to Marry a Doctor. Nancy Robards Thompson

know me,” Anna said. “Grace is my middle name.” Actually, it really was. “I aim to please. How are you doing, Jake? You okay?”

      Her long auburn hair hung at her shoulders in loose waves. Her clear, ivory skin was virtually makeup-free. She had this look in her blue eyes that warmed him from the inside out.

      He tried not to think about the strange impulse he’d had just a minute ago, an impulse that lingered even if he was trying not to acknowledge it.

      “I’m great,” he said. “Want a beer? I’d like to toast your latest choreography. You’re getting really good at it. I’ll give your Running Man a nine-point-five. I have to take off a half point since you didn’t stick the landing.”

      She swatted him and quickly crossed her arms in front of her.

      “Yes, I’d love a beer. Thank you. I need one after that.”

      He smiled. “Come on. Let’s go back up to the house. I have five of a six-pack in the fridge.”

      She was eyeing him again. “Well, good. I was afraid that maybe you’d been at home all day drowning your sorrows.”

      “I was seeing patients all day. In case you haven’t noticed, I usually don’t take off midweek to go on a bender.”

      He and Anna both worked at Celebration Memorial Hospital, but she was an OB nurse on the third-floor maternity ward and he was a hospitalist on the general medical-surgical floors. Unless they sought each other out, their paths usually didn’t cross at work.

      “I must say, you’re taking this awfully well,” she said.

      “What?”

      “The breakup. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear that you were fine.”

      “Do I act like I’m not fine?”

      “Well, no. That’s what I just said. You seem remarkably unfazed by Miss Texas’s departure. Sorry, by Dorenda’s breaking up with you.”

      He pulled open the back door for her and stepped aside so she could enter the house first.

      “Dorenda was a great woman, but our relationship had run its course. I’ll miss her, but it was time to move on.”

      He shrugged and stepped inside behind her.

      “Are you telling me that you broke up with her?”

      Throwing her a glance over his shoulder as he walked toward the kitchen, he said, “No, she’s the one who dropped the bomb. Actually, it was more of an exploding ultimatum. I saw it coming a mile away.”

      He reached into the fridge, grabbed a beer and twisted off the bottle cap.

      “She gave you an ultimatum? Really? Well, but then again, how long were the two of you together?”

      “Four or five months or so. Do you want a mug? I have some in the freezer.”

      “Yes, please. Had it really been five months? I mean, I’ve only been back a month.”

      He nodded as he poured the beer down the inside of the mug, careful to create just the right amount of foam on top. “She reminded me of that more than a few times last night. She was talking five-year plans that involved marriage and kids and bigger houses. She kept saying she needed some assurance about our future, needed to know where we were going. I’m not going to lie to her. I enjoyed her company, but I wasn’t going to marry her.”

      He handed the beer to Anna.

      “Why not?” Anna asked. “She was beautiful. You seemed like you were really into her.”

      Jake nodded. “She was nice. Pretty. But...I couldn’t see myself spending the rest of my life with her. That’s the bottom line.”

      Anna squinted at him, her brows drawn together, as she sipped her beer.

      “What’s wrong? Is the beer not good? You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it.”

      She set down the mug on the kitchen counter. “No, I like it. But I have two questions for you.”

      “Okay. Shoot.”

      “First question. If you’re fine with everything, how come you let me keep dancing and make a fool of myself?”

      Her voice was stern.

      He laughed out loud. He couldn’t help it. “Are you kidding? Watching you was the most fun I’ve had in months. No way was I going to stop you. For the record, you didn’t make a fool of yourself. You’re adorable. In fact, you’d been away so long down there in San Antonio, I’d almost forgotten how adorable you are.”

      She rolled her eyes, but then smiled.

      “So happy to have cheered you up,” she said.

      “What’s the second question?” he asked.

      She looked at him thoughtfully for a long moment.

      “Why, Jake? Why do you keep dating the same type of women? I don’t mean to be judgmental and I know I haven’t been around for the last decade or so. But think of this as tough love. You keep dating the same type of women, expecting to get different results, but it always turns out the same way. Always has, always will.”

      He crossed his arms, feeling a little defensive, but knowing she was right. Sometimes her friendship felt like the only real thing in the world. But still, he didn’t want to get into this right now.

      “I don’t exactly see you out there blazing trails in the dating world,” he countered.

      She sighed. “The divorce has only been final for a month.”

      “But you were separated for nearly two years.”

      “This isn’t about me, Jake. This is about you. What are you looking for?”

      He shook his head.

      “Company. Companionship? That’s why, when I know the relationship has run its course, I end it. Or in today’s case, I let Dorenda do the honors. I don’t string them along.”

      “But you do sort of string them along. You dated Dorenda for four months. That’s a significant amount of time in the post-twenties dating world.”

      Overhead, the fluorescent lights buzzed. He glanced out the kitchen window. Inky dusk was blotting out the last vestiges of the sunset.

      “I don’t know what you want me to say, Anna.”

      “Say that you’ll let me fix you up with a different type of woman.”

       Different?

      “Define different.”

      “Don’t take this the wrong way, but maybe you should consider women who are a little more down-to-earth than the Miss Texases of the world.”

      He knocked back the last of his beer and debated grabbing another, but his stomach growled, reminding him he really should think about getting some food into his system first.

      “Down-to-earth, huh? I wouldn’t even know where to begin to look for someone down-to-earth.”

      “Exactly. That’s why I want you to let me fix you up.”

      “I don’t know, Anna. Blind dates aren’t really my thing.”

      He returned to the fridge, pulled open the door and surveyed the meager contents.

      “When was the last time you went on a blind date?”

      “Better question,” he countered. “When was the last time you even went on a date?”

      He looked back over his shoulder to gauge her reaction. She didn’t seem to like being in the line of fire any more than he did.

      “This isn’t