Thursday, July 15, 2021

Thursday's Opening Scene from Seducing the Doctor #BWLAuthor #MFRWAuthor #Romance #Doctor #Builder

 “You’re next.”

Matt Blakefield choked on the piece of wedding cake he’d been about to swallow. “Not in a million years. Why don’t you pick on one of our unmarried friends like Tony or Jules?”

“They aren’t here,” his sister Allie said.

Matt’s gaze slid around the long table in the inn’s dining room spearing each couple with a glare. Friends and family had gathered to celebrate this morning’s wedding of his brother to the mother of his nine year old son.

“I have a friend who you would like,” Allie said.

Meg grinned. “She would be perfect.”

Matt pretended to shoot his sisters. “No sale.” He dropped his napkin on the table.

“Remember the curse.” Mark’s sly smile teased. “None of us has escaped. Maybe there’s a woman from your past you can’t forget.”

Was there? Yes. But the reason he couldn’t forget her showed him in a bad way. Time to hit the road. With this decision made he wondered how he could flee before his sisters set up a date. As if in answer to his wishes his cell vibrated. Salvation.

“Matt here. Sorry you missed the wedding…I’ll tell him.” He looked up. “Jules said congrats. Sorry he was on a hunt and couldn’t book a flight in time… So what did you learn?”

His friend and investigator’s news was all Matt wanted to hear. “I’m on my way. Yes, today.”

As if he would stay here where plans he wanted no part of were being laid. He’d been present for the important event. He had no reason to linger and a huge need to escape. Although he wasn’t to meet Jules until Monday morning the opportunity was perfect.

He rose. “Have to leave. Jules has info I need on this year’s makeover house.”

“On the weekend?” His father, CEO of the Good Magazine Group and recently married to his teenage love arched an eyebrow.

“Yeah, it’s the Smiton house. You know the one I’ve always been interested in. I want to use this as the project for converting a house from energy sucking to energy efficient. Jules has a line on the owner’s location. I want the contract signed so we can start work soon.” He didn’t mention how his mother had loved the house and talked about the mystery of the heir’s disappearance. There’d been no thought of the man’s death, just that he had gone to Europe to live.

His father’s forehead wrinkled. “If there’s a problem, find another house. Who knows what condition the Smiton house is in. No one has lived there for more than twenty five years.”

“I’ve checked. The house is solid.”

“Find one with the owners in residence. They’ll appreciate the free upgrade.”

Matt groaned. “And spend hours suggesting changes that won’t work or constantly complain about the inconvenience. Not on a bet.” Matt rose. Another thing he failed to mention was his plan to live in the house.

He kissed his new sister-in-law’s cheek. “Let Mark spoil you and Davy. My brother has a few years of presents to bestow.” He made his way around the table kissing the women and clasping hands with the men.

Matt strode to the cloakroom to retrieve his leather jacket and helmet. He’d planned to hang out in one of the cottages until tomorrow but not with the schemes buzzing with the ladies. He leaned over the counter, kissed the middle-aged woman’s cheek and dropped a ten spot in the tip tray.

He dashed out the door and down the steps to the parking lot and his bike. As the engine roared to life the relatives gathered and the protests began.

So much for a quick getaway. He braced for arguments.

“Stay,” his new sister-in-law called. “You have one of the cabins to yourself.”

“We won’t bother you, I promise,” his step-mother said.

She wouldn’t but that we didn’t include his sisters. “Another time.”

“Matt, it’s going to rain.” The voices of four females rose in a chorus.

“I won’t melt.” He slapped his helmet on his head. With a spray of gravel he headed to the road.

Exit Matt fleeing a gaggle of women intent on ending his bachelor state.

“You’re next.” Had someone shouted that or was his imagination playing tricks. Next wasn’t on his agenda.

He waved. “Not today. Not this year. Maybe never.” The engine’s roar drowned any comments.

 

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