“Do you?”
He shrugged. “It’s okay.”
She laughed again. “Are you teasing me? Does the stern doctor board know? If they find out, you won’t be asked to speak at their conference.”
“I can live with the disappointment.”
“And here I wanted to see your picture in the newsletter.”
Their server appeared and quickly made guacamole tableside. Montana watched intently, giving herself over to the moment.
She did that a lot, he realized. So many parts of her life were fun. She must go from highlight to highlight. It would never be his style, but he could learn from her.
When the guacamole was finished and placed between them, she leaned forward. “You are going to love this. Seriously, it’s amazing. Everyone goes on and on about the margaritas they serve here, but I think they’re missing the point.”
She offered him the chips, then waited while he sampled the dip.
“Well?”
“Very nice.”
She rolled her eyes. “You need to work on your superlatives. Nice is a clean toothbrush. This is life changing.”
She scooped up some with a chip and popped it in her mouth. “Mmm. Perfection.”
He wanted to tease that she should get out more, but didn’t. Nothing about Montana needed changing.
“How are the puppies?”
“Growing. If you look at them long enough, you can see it happening. Oh, and last night there were no accidents.”
He’d learned in his lone overnight stay at her house that getting the puppies up at two in the morning for a potty break didn’t mean they weren’t going to pee on the floor.
“Progress.”
“I know. Now I’m waiting for them to get through the night. The 2:00 a.m. thing is getting really old. How are things at the hospital?”
“Good.”
He was tired, Montana thought, watching him as he told her about a difficult surgery. Working too hard. But that was probably always the case. He did as much work as he could in the short time he was around. Not that she was going to think about him leaving. Better to enjoy him while he was here.
“Montana! So nice to see you and your young man out in town.”
Montana looked up and winced. “Hello, Gladys.”
Gladys had been a fixture in Fool’s Gold for a lot longer than Montana had been alive. She was a good-hearted sort of person but often spoke her mind, and in a scary kind of way. She was the sort of person who made everyone around her cringe and then couldn’t see what she had said that was the least bit awkward.
She patted Montana on the shoulder and leaned down to speak in her ear. “Too bad about his face, but I bet the rest of him is working just fine.”
Montana didn’t know whether to scream, hide under the table or run for the mountains just outside of town. She hoped that Simon hadn’t heard the comment, but when she glanced at him one eyebrow was raised.
“Sorry,” she mouthed silently, then turned to Gladys. “You make me crazy, you know that, right?”
An unrepentant Gladys grinned. “Then my work here is complete.”
She straightened, waved at Simon and walked away. Montana covered her face with her hands.
“This is when I think I should’ve stayed in L.A. I never ran into anyone I knew there. Maybe it was better.” She dropped her hands to her lap and looked at him. “How mad are you?”
“I’m a little offended that you didn’t defend my honor.”
She frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“You didn’t tell her how great I am in bed.”
“Is that what you wanted? I’m sure I’ll be invited back to the city council in the next week or so. I can put it on the agenda.”
He picked up his glass of iced tea. “I would appreciate that.”
“If I really did that, you wouldn’t know what to say.”
“I’m not so sure.” His gray-green eyes sparkled with humor. “The first few weeks I was here, everyone was very polite. Now I’m getting not-so-subtle hints that I should live in Fool’s Gold permanently. Oh, and yesterday, some old lady in a tracksuit told me I should make an honest woman of you.”
Montana winced. “My guess is you ran into Eddie and, yes, that does sound like her. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. This is a good place. I like it here.”
“I have a PowerPoint presentation illustrating all the reasons you should consider relocating here.” She kept her tone light and made sure she was smiling as she spoke. She wanted him to think she was kidding, and she was, sort of. “Color graphs?”
“What is a PowerPoint presentation without color graphs?” She reached for another chip. “Doesn’t this happen everywhere you go? Don’t they always want you to stay?”
“Mostly.”
“Does that surprise you? You’re a very gifted surgeon. Having you around would mean a lot to any community. And you’re good-looking.”
His expression tightened. She did a mental rewind, trying to figure out what she’d said wrong. Nothing came to her.
“What?” she demanded. “You have scrunchy face.”