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figuratively and literally—now that Sadie lived in Shady Grove instead of traipsing around the country. It was impossible to stay mad at Sadie and, as much as it pained Char to admit it, she had, perhaps, gone a bit overboard with her crush on James.
    “That’s so great,” Charlotte said, her smile widening as she imagined her sister’s surprise. Her happiness.
    “Yeah. Maybe.”
    “You don’t think they should get married?”
    “I just don’t see why they want to rush into anything.”
    “They’re both thirty-three and have known each other since they were kids. I’d hardly call that rushing.”
    Leo’s radio went off and he checked it as he said, “You ask me, it’s always too soon to commit to being with one person the rest of your life.”
    “That’s about the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” Charlotte faux-gushed. “I hadn’t realized you had such a deep, emotional side. You’re just a big romantic, aren’t you?”
    He sent her another grin, this one more devastating than the last. Seriously, if she was made of weaker stuff, she might be swooning about now. “I have plenty of emotions,” he assured her. “And I’m all for commitment—for other people. Me? I like to have options. Lots and lots of options.” He sent her a sharp salute. “See ya later, gorgeous.”
    Thank God she hadn’t fallen for him, Char thought as Leo left. It’d been bad enough making that mistake with someone like James, a good guy who’d let her down as gently as possible. Sure, Leo would’ve been kind. He wasn’t a jerk. Just careless with the hearts he held in the palm of his hand.
    But women who fell for men like him—men who kept their options open, their bed partners varied and a tight grip on their single status—were only asking for heartbreak.
    And she liked her heart in one piece, thanks all the same.
    After rinsing out her coffee cup, she went out to triage, picked up a folder and opened it.
    “Hello, Charlotte.”
    The papers fell from her suddenly clumsy fingers. She picked them up, swallowed, then turned. “Hello, Doctor.”
    She winced. Shoot. What was supposed to be a friendly, casual greeting had been more of a squeak.
    “Please,” he said with an easy grin. “Call me Justin.”
    Some doctors—mostly of the younger generation—preferred to be addressed by their given names, though she’d never do so in front of a patient.
    “All right. Justin.” And that was just a bit too dreamy. If she wasn’t careful, he’d think she was one of the many, many nurses—along with a few female doctors and one gay anesthesiologist—who were infatuated with him.
    Okay, so she was infatuated. She was living and breathing, wasn’t she? And he looked like a young Nathan Fillion, had a runner’s long, lean body and spoke with the New England accent of a Kennedy. He was also an excellent doctor, passionate about helping people and dedicated to his profession. His patients loved him. His coworkers liked and respected him.
    He’d moved to Shady Grove after his residency in Philly so he could be closer to his older sister and her family in Pittsburgh. He’d quickly become a part of the community, volunteering his time at the local free clinic, sitting on the boards of several charitable organizations.
    He was everything, absolutely everything, she’d ever wanted in a husband. They were going to make such a perfect couple.
    She hoped it didn’t take him too long before he figured that out as well.
    “Dr. Louk,” Regina, the triage nurse, said from behind the counter—not sounding the least bit mouse-ish, damn her, “I made some of those oatmeal cookies you like so much.” She leaned forward, grinned conspiratorially. “I hid a dozen just for you in the cabinet above the microwave.”
    Char had to cough to hide a snort. Cookies. Rookie mistake. She’d made cookies for James and it hadn’t done her any good.
    “Thank you,” Justin said, as polite as always. “I’d love one, but I’ll have to