Strange Medicine (Dr. Maxwell Thornton Murder Mysteries #1)(43)

He grinned. “I don’t think you understand what a momentous occasion this is. He’s left me a little present at least once a day every day since he’s been here. But today he didn’t. And he whined to go outside.”

“That’s… that’s wonderful.”

He approached me, and my stomach flip-flopped. “This calls for a drink.”

“Oh.” I hurried after him, having trouble keeping up with his long stride. “Does it?”

“Damn straight.” He held the sliding door open for me, and as I slid past him, my pulse spiked. “We’ll just have one because I don’t want you getting me drunk and taking advantage of me.”

I laughed a little too loudly and crossed my arms. “You’re hilarious.”

He leaned toward me. “Don’t get all uptight. I’m just joshin’ with you.”

I watched him go into the kitchen, feeling unsettled. If he was going to flirt with me all the time, he was going to be hard to ignore. And something about his cocky grin told me he was perfectly aware of that.





Chapter Twelve


Royce

When I came downstairs the next morning, Maxwell was already dressed and sitting in the kitchen in his suit and tie.

“Good morning,” he said, sitting up straighter.

“Morning.” My voice was gruff from sleep still. I moved to the coffee maker. “Would you like some coffee?”

He lifted a mug he had in his lap. “Oh, no, thank you. I made myself a cup of tea. I hope that’s all right?”

“Of course. Make yourself at home.” I ground some beans and then poured water in the coffee maker. Then I let the puppy out back to do his business.

“I’d have made you coffee. I just didn’t know where you keep anything or how to work your machine. I didn’t want to break it my first morning here.” He grimaced. “Not that I think it’s okay to break it later or anything.”

I switched on the coffee, turning to face him. “When do you need to be at work? I’ll give you a lift.”

“Oh, I’m just going to finish my tea and then walk there.”

I frowned. “Why, when I can drive you?”

“No. I don’t need you driving me to work. That’s not necessary.”

“I know it’s not, but I’m leaving in ten minutes for work myself. It’s only five minutes extra on my morning.”

He stood and set his cup in the sink. “No need. A good brisk walk in the morning is good for the digestion.”

I snorted. “You sound like my grandfather.”

Crossing his arms, he faced me. “I’m trying to be considerate. It doesn’t come naturally to me, so you should appreciate it when I put in the effort.”

My lips twitched. “What’s your aversion to me driving you to your clinic?”

“I feel you’ve done enough.”

“I’ve done almost nothing.” I moved to the fridge and grabbed some creamer. Then I returned to the coffeepot area and added cream to my travel cup. “Since it’s seven forty, I’m going to take a wild guess you open at eight. Otherwise you’d already have left. Something tells me you’re a punctual person.”

“My, my. You really are a great detective.” He smirked.

I ignored his sarcasm. “I’ll be dressed in ten minutes, and then I can run you up to your clinic and still be at my office exactly on time.”

“Were you born a do-gooder?” He lifted one smooth brow.

“It costs me nothing to be kind.”

“Not true. It will cost you gas. I already feel weak and pathetic for accepting your offer of a bed. I need to stand on my own two feet.”

“Weak and pathetic?” I scowled. “Why?”

“A man needs to be self-sufficient. You make it too easy for me to lean on you.” He swallowed hard. “If I’m going to stay at your home a while longer, I need to be my own man.”

“Maxwell, it’s a ride to work. I didn’t offer to bathe you and brush your teeth.”

His face tinted pink. “I know but—”

“But what?”

He exhaled. “I have nothing to offer you in return. How do I keep it even if you’re the only one giving all the time?”

“Why does it need to be even?” I frowned.

He looked puzzled by my question. “Well… because…” He pulled his dark brows together. “Everything should always be even.”

“Says who?” I laughed gruffly.

“That’s just how it is.” He shifted uneasily.

I sighed, scanning his tense face. “In my world friends do stuff for each other when it’s needed. Hell, there may easily come a day when I need you to do me a favor. I’m not keeping score here, Maxwell.” Something told me he’d been raised to keep score, and that was why he was so uncomfortable accepting help.

“Then… I… I’ll cook dinner tonight.” He frowned. “Will you be home for dinner?”

“I should be home around six.”

He nodded. “Okay. Then I’ll cook dinner.” He sounded firm.

“Do you even cook?” According to Girdy, all he ate were canned goods.