Can't Hurry Love

He could barely see.

Not just from the anger that was coursing through his veins something he was used to by now.

But because the snowstorm that had hit earlier than anticipated was making conditions downright dangerous.

He shouldn't have agreed to come tonight. He was exhausted, straight off a twelve-hour shift in the ER.

But Elaine had insisted that he join her, more out of a desire to keep up appearances than actually wanting to spend time with him. And things were so bad between them.

He needed to fix them. Fix their marriage before the baby came.

And so, he'd drunk a gallon of coffee and joined her at her boss's Christmas party.

Joined turned out to be stretching it a bit though, since she disappeared from his side almost the second they'd entered the opulent home of Jeffrey Weller, CEO and owner of Weller Advertising.

Josh spent an hour engaging in the usual chit chat, fielding questions about the hospital and talking football with the men he only ever met at these things.

When his eyelids began to droop, he figured it was time to go home in case he fell asleep standing up.

He hadn't seen Elaine for a while, so he subtly moved away from the group he'd been on the peripheral of and went looking. He couldn't find her among any of the other guests milling around the open plan space, and the kitchen housed only frazzled catering staff.

He was about to call her cell when a light in the pool house caught his attention.

Looking down, he noticed two distinct sets of footprints in the snow that led from the French doors to the pool house at the bottom of the garden.

And he knew. How he knew, Josh couldn't say. But it was as though so many puzzle pieces slotted into place: the late nights, the distance from him, furtiveness around her phone, guarding her privacy like a miser with her treasures. He should leave well enough alone. Call her cell, meet her at the car, and have a calm, rational conversation when they got home.

But his feet had a will of their own, and they walked him to the pool house, even though he knew he wouldn't see anything he liked.

Before he got to the entrance though, the light flicked off, and he stood there in the darkness, watching as the door opened, and Elaine stumbled out giggling, her dress creased, her hair ruffled.

And he stayed watching while Jeffrey Weller wrapped his arms around her and kissed her in a way that could only be familiar.

He watched as they broke apart and turned in his direction.

As Elaine's face blanched, shock lighting the brown depths of her eyes. And then, the flick of a red lock of hair, the defiant tilt of her chin. She didn't care. Didn't care that she'd betrayed him. Didn't care that she'd been caught. Wordlessly, Josh turned and marched around the side of the house to where the cars were parked. He wondered if he should feel angrier. Shouldn't he want to beat the shit out of the man who'd just been having sex with his wife? But he felt nothing. Relief maybe. Which spelt a word of trouble, especially with a baby on the way.

He had no idea how long he sat there in the car, waiting for her to make an appearance.

And when she finally slid into the seat beside his, he tried to muster some emotion. Any emotion. But there was nothing. Nothing except a sense of inevitability.

They'd probably loved each other once, he reasoned as he drove down the winding driveway of the ostentatious house and toward home.

But he couldn't for the life of him remember how that had felt.

"You're not going to ask about it?" Elaine's bitter tone broke the fraught silence, and Josh heaved from the depths of his soul. "What is there to talk about?" he asked wearily, a strange mix of exhaustion and empty acceptance coursing through him. "If you want to spill all the sordid details, then have at it. I don't really care."

He could feel her anger at his words as if it was reaching out to strangle him.

"That's always been the problem, hasn't it, Josh? You've never cared. You've "

Her rant went on and on. The tantrum of a petulant child. Had he ever found it endearing? Her spoilt princess bit?

Perhaps. But now, it grated on his last damn nerve.

Outside, the wind screamed, and the snow lashed against the car. He needed all of his concentration to keep them alive. He couldn't think about her betrayal right now. Couldn't think about his baby growing up without- The thought, insidious and gut-wrenching, slithered into his mind, interrupting his thoughts.

"Elaine."

Something in his tone stopped her incessant screeching, and she came to an abrupt stop.

"The baby," he managed past a sudden lump in his throat. "Is it mine? And don't lie to me, Elaine. It wouldn't do any good now anyway."

His words triggered a sudden and complete change in Elaine. Her face, ordinarily so beautiful, became ugly as her mouth twisted with a sneer filled with contempt. "What baby?" she hissed.

He took his eyes off the wrong for a second to frown at her. "Our baby," he snapped. "Or so I thought."

Elaine's laugh was the cruelest sound Josh had ever heard. "I guess we'll have to wait and see. If it comes out with a God complex, then it's yours."

He took his eyes off the road again, shocked by her callousness. Wondering when the hell things had gotten so bad between them that combat was the only thing left.

Yes, he'd taken his eyes off the road.

And he hadn't seen it coming. The truck on the opposite side of the white line losing control and skidding across the central reservation. It was only when he was blinded by the lights that he realized. And it was way too late.

All he could do was throw his arm across Elaine in a futile attempt to protect her and the baby.

The seconds to impact felt like eons. Elaine's scream reverberated around his head.

There was a moment of terror. And then-nothing.

Josh awoke, his body dripping in sweat, his heart hammering loudly in the quiet room. It had been two years since the accident. Eighteen months since their divorce.

Why now? Why did the nightmares still come? Why was the guilt an ever-present noose around his neck?

He threw back the covers and pressed the home button on his iPhone, wincing as the brightness of the screen stung his eyes.

As a former ER doctor waking suddenly at-he checked the time on the screen-4:30 am wasn't that big a deal.

But the panic clawing at him? That had nothing to do with the ER and everything to do with the fact that Elaine had lost her baby because of that crash. And her life had spiraled out of control afterward. Josh knew that sleep would elude him now.

Thankfully being a small-town MD allowed him the luxury of being tired on the job every once in a while. It was unlikely that anyone's life would be endangered by his lack of sleep.

Rising to his feet, Josh made his way to the window of the apartment that looked out over Main Street.

Sometimes, he couldn't quite believe that he lived here.

That this was his life.

Certainly, his mother was hoping that it was nothing more than a phase. A blip in reaction to the accident for which he blamed himself, no matter how many people told him he wasn't to blame. He hadn't attended Harvard to end up as a partner in a tiny practice in Colorado, his mother had insisted.

But Josh had insisted harder.

He couldn't say that this was where he wanted to be forever. But he'd needed a life that was the exact opposite of the rat race where he'd been living. He needed the peace and quiet. He needed to heal. And he couldn't do that while he hurtled his way to burning out before hitting forty, working as an ER doctor, seeing unspeakable trauma every day, all while dealing with his own unspeakable trauma.

Mostly, he couldn't stay in the apartment he'd shared with Elaine. Couldn't drive the same roads that had caused his world to implode.

Yes, everyone, from the police officers and the paramedics to his friends and family, insisted he wasn't at fault. Hell, even Elaine's own mother, Ellen, told him that. But it wasn't just the guilt he'd run from. It was the mess he'd made of his life. It was the awful, painful brush with love and marriage and commitment and what had happened when it had all fallen apart.

The driver of the pick-up had been over the limit. Insane to drive drunk as it was but especially in wintry Chicago weather. He was the only one at whose feet the blame could be laid. Logically, Josh knew that. But sometimes, it was hard to let logic win out.

By some miracle, neither he nor Elaine had been seriously hurt. Not physically anyway.

The memory of walking to her room after being told that she'd miscarried slammed into him now, refusing to budge.

He walked in filled with pain and guilt, and she stared at him, her dark eyes filled with venom.

"I'm sorry, Elaine," he managed to rasp. "I'm so sorry about the baby. I would never have wished this on you. On us."

She rolled her eyes, and Josh searched her face for a sign that she was putting on a show, protecting herself by pretending she didn't care. But there was no pretense.

"I'm glad it's gone. You've just saved me the inconvenience of getting rid of it."

That had been the last time he'd seen her face to face.

Filing for divorce had been a no-brainer. He didn't fight her on anything. Gave her what she wanted. Surprisingly, she wasn't gunning for alimony that would bankrupt him. She'd settled for an apartment of her own and a lump sum pay-out.

Then before the ink had dried on the papers, she'd sold up and moved on. Found herself some musician and spontaneously moved to LA with him.

Josh had been glad to have washed his hands of the whole thing.

But then Ellen had started calling.

Elaine wasn't checking in as much, his ex-mother-in-law had explained, and she had no-one else to turn to. And when her daughter did call, her behavior was erratic... not making any sense... her speech was sometimes slurred... The first time she OD'd, Josh had paid for private rehab treatment.

The second time, he'd flown out to LA with Ellen because he couldn't shake that sense of responsibility. That sense of guilt.

He'd driven her to the treatment center. Listened as she made excuses, spat vile accusations and empty threats at him and her long-suffering mother.

It had been a shock to see her so changed. But he couldn't invest in her anymore. There wasn't enough of him left to give. He'd flown home that weekend and handed in his resignation.

He was lucky-beyond lucky-not to need money. He'd been born into the mighty Larson wealth, after all. His trust fund meant he'd never have to work a day in his life if he chose not to.

He'd gone into medicine because of the innate urge to help people. Yet, he hadn't been able to help Elaine's baby. And he knew that, despite his efforts, he wasn't able to help Elaine either.

It was by sheer accident that he'd stumbled across the opening at Rocky Valley. He'd been browsing job websites almost unseeingly when the photo had caught his eye. The practice looked like something out of a movie. An old-fashioned, red-brick house that had been converted into a medical practice covered in wisteria. Josh felt more relaxed just looking at it.

Falling down the Internet rabbit hole, he read up on Dr. Beech who was looking for a partner who would one day run the practice alone. Then he read about Rocky Valley itself, studied photos of countless sweeping cattle ranches, of mountains and lakes, rivers, and quaint buildings that looked as if they hadn't changed in a hundred years.

It looked idyllic. It looked peaceful. Most of all, it looked nothing like Chicago.

During his psych rotation as an intern, Josh had learned a little bit about reactive behaviors to trauma. Maybe that was what he'd experienced that night, because he found himself typing out an email to Dr. Beech.

Two weeks later he'd landed in Rocky Valley.

And two weeks after that, he'd met Beth Carroway.

Josh moved restlessly to the window and lifted the blind to peer out to the empty street. A movement down by the corner the caught his eye, unusual in the still of the early morning.

As he watched, a red pick-up pulled up outside The Book Nook and Beth's Bakery.

Dr. Beech's granddaughter, Zoe, had opened her bookstore a year ago, and not long after that, Beth opened a small bakery right next door, though it was more conjoined than next door, as customers could walk freely from one to the other in the huge open space that housed both businesses.

And since Zoe and Beth were inseparable anyway, it seemed to be a match made in heaven.

The few times that he'd been brave enough to venture inside in the past year, he'd noticed how happy Beth seemed. How in her element.

He'd noticed a hell of a lot more about her too, but since the disaster at Zoe and Beck's wedding last week, he tried (and failed, mostly) not to think about that.

As he watched, Beth jumped out of the truck. Normally, he'd be surprised by someone so tiny being able to handle the monster she drove. But knowing what he knew now about the fiery blonde, he figured she could manage just about anything.

He wondered at the early hour of her arrival and then figured since it was a bakery, this was probably normal for her.

Plus, Zoe and Beck were currently on honeymoon, so maybe Beth was doubling up on duties until her friend's return.

Josh had no idea why he found himself so riveted by the sight of her. It had been that way since he'd first bumped into her at Bella's Diner. She was beautiful, with her All-American blond curls and big blue eyes. But it was more than that. There was something about her that attracted him more than anyone he'd ever met. Yes, even Elaine.

His only real relationships had been with fellow Harvard med students or girls from the same wealthy, stiff societal background as him.

Beth's unassuming, guileless zest for life, her pleasure in their simple evening together just talking and walking-no expensive dinners, no flash cars or expectation of Michelin- star restaurants had been like a breath of fresh air. Exactly what he'd needed after Chicago. After a lifetime of the same sort of people actually.

What would have happened if Ellen hadn't called that night? If her request for Josh's help, Josh's money, hadn't brought home to him all the reasons he'd sworn never to get involved again?

He'd ended the call with a promise to pay for yet another stint in rehab, then with a heart feeling heavier than it had since the accident, he'd deleted the draft text message to Beth. Stupid of him to think he'd be able to escape his past. However, as it turned out, it had been stupider to think he'd be able to forget Beth Carroway in a town as small as Rocky Valley. Or to think that he'd want to.

It hadn't been fair to her, kissing her again at the wedding. But hell, he wasn't a saint, and a man could only avoid so much temptation.

As he watched, she reached into the truck bed and hefted out a huge, flat box, staggering a little under the weight of it.

He'd promised himself he'd stay away. He'd told her he'd stay away.

But he couldn't in good conscience watch her struggle, could he? That wasn't gentlemanly at all.

And with that flimsy excuse, he hurried to dress himself.

"Allow me," Beth screeched at the sound of a voice behind her. She couldn't turn around given the size of the box in her hands, but she didn't need to. She recognised the timbre of his voice, having become well- acquainted with it in her dreams this past week.

Of course, in her dreams he hadn't kept kissing her to within an inch of her life and then bailing. Hadn't kept convincing her to put herself out there and start to hope that something might happen between them, before shooting her down again.

Oh, but her stupid, stupid heart. It just wouldn't listen when it came to the Adonis-like doctor.

Case in point, it was currently fluttering wildly, and she hadn't even had to deal with the impact of his ice-blue eyes staring down at her yet.

She needed to get some action. Fast. That must be what was wrong. It wasn't that Josh Larson was incredible. It was that she hadn't had a boyfriend in so long.

And then, there he was. Casually stepping around her and plucking the box of brownies and blondies from her hands.

Prepare for impact, Beth warned herself. In three, two, one-

Yep. There it was. That crystal blue gaze that made her feel as if the earth was shifting beneath her feet.

Since Zoe was currently away with Beck and wasn't available to be the voice of reason, Beth had tried being her own voice of reason since the wedding. And it had worked until this exact moment, the first time she'd seen him since then. Which meant it hadn't worked at all.

"It's fine," she bit out, albeit it a little wobbly, and reached for the box, but he just held it over his head like it weighed nothing. And since he was easily a foot taller than she, she really had no way of getting it back.

Beth huffed out a sigh of frustration to cover for her reaction and glared up at him.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"I'm helping you," he said with that grin and that dimple. And predictably, her insides turned to mush.

But then she remembered how humiliated she'd felt at Zoe's wedding and hardened her heart while giving other parts of her anatomy a talking to.

"I don't need or want your help, Josh. I don't need or want anything from you."

Maybe it was the bad lighting of the streetlight overhead, but Beth thought she saw a flash of something like regret in his eyes. "Beth," he began, but she didn't want to hear it. She already felt ridiculous for making such a fuss of one evening-two, now. And his gentle brush-offs or empty apologies would just embarrass her even more.

"Fine," she interrupted whatever he was going to say. "You can carry things in for me, but then I have to get working. So-"

"I'll just help and go," he assured her, nodding toward the door of the bakery. "I won't even expect some of that famed Rocky Valley hospitality." She rolled her eyes at his sarcasm as she opened the shop and hurried to disarm the alarm.

"What are you doing up this early, anyway?" she asked as she flicked on the lights then led the way to the back kitchen.

Usually, Jenna Wakefield helped her out in the mornings, carrying things and setting up for the day, then staying for the lunchtime rush before taking afternoons off. She worked weekends too, and when tourist season kicked in, she'd be almost fulltime. It suited her since she ran riding lessons on her family ranch and could be pretty flexible. Beth got the impression that working at the bakery gave Jenna a sense of escape from the ranch and her brothers, and Beth could understand that feeling more than most. With Zoe away though, Jenna had taken over running The Book Nook, so Beth had been alone last week and would be until next Saturday. She'd been lugging boxes every morning by herself too and hadn't been caught before.

"I couldn't sleep," Josh answered as he placed the box carefully on the counter. "So, what's in here anyway?"

Beth got the feeling he was avoiding the subject of his insomnia, but she couldn't let herself care or be curious, so she ignored it and moved to switch on the coffee machine. "Brownies,” she answered as casually as she could. "And blondies. I bake some stuff at home." The kitchen at the ranch was bigger than the modest one here. "There's more in the truck?" he asked. "Yeah. But I can manage it," she said swiftly.

He looked at her, really looked for a moment or two, and Beth found herself wondering what he was searching for.

But then, the grin was back.

"Tell you what, I'll bring the rest in for you. But it'll cost you a brownie. And maybe a coffee?"

She didn't want to respond to his playfulness, but she couldn't help it. She just felt happy around him when he wasn't rejecting her, obviously.

"I already said I'd do it myself," she responded with a raised brow.

"Yes, but I got out of my warm, cozy bed practically in the middle of the night to help you. I'm a good citizen. I deserve a reward."

To her horror, Beth felt her cheeks heating at the mention of his bed. And she found herself picturing him lying there, the sheets draped just over his hips like in the movies. She wondered if he slept naked. And before she could stop herself, she began imagining that too for good measure.

"Beth?"

Somehow, her thoughts must have shown on her face because his voice dropped, his eyes darkened, and he took a step closer.

If this was one of her romantic movies, this would definitely be a kiss scene.

But because she knew the sting of rejection that came after that, Beth was able to step away. "Fine." Her smile felt as brittle as her voice sounded. "It's a deal. You do the heavy lifting, and I'll make the coffee."

He watched her again for what felt like hours before he nodded, whether in agreement or because he knew she was deliberately putting distance between them, Beth didn't know.

And it was only when the bell over the door rang out, signaling his exit that she allowed herself to breathe again. "Stop it right now," she whispered, hoping that if she heard the words out loud, they might actually work. "He's not interested. Where the heck is your self-respect, girl?"

By the time he came back in, showing off by carrying three of the large boxes stacked on top of each other, she had the coffee brewing and her body and heart back under control. Or something close enough to control, which would have to

do for now.

"The coffee won't be long," she called over her shoulder, afraid to look at him. "If you just put the boxes with the others, that'd be great."

He didn't respond, so she assumed he'd done as he'd been told.

Beth fired up the ovens and began pulling ingredients from the huge larder.

"You're making more?" he asked, and she had to turn around and acknowledge him because, well, she'd look completely nutty if she didn't.

He'd taken up residence on one of the barstools at the counter, and she couldn't believe how good he looked in grey sweats and a Harvard hooded sweatshirt.

Seriously, who looked that good at this time of the morning anyway?

She laughed softly at his question. "Yeah, a lot more," she answered. "I only bake the stuff that will keep well until the morning when I'm at home. Everything else is done here."

"So, what are you making now?" he asked, seeming genuinely interested.

Her tummy felt all warm and gooey at his interest. Aside from Zoe, nobody really took much of an interest in her bakery.

Grayson, Zach, and Seth had been great helping her set up. And she knew that they wanted her to do well, wanted her to be happy. But she always got the feeling they saw it as a hobby. A side-hustle. When her real life was just being a nothing on the ranch.

It was nice to have someone treat it, and her, as if they were worth knowing about.

The coffee machine had warmed up and was ready to go, and Beth chattered about the day ahead and the bakery in general as she set about making his an extra-hot, double- shot latte with no foam. She made herself a cappuccino and set them both on the counter before removing two brownies from the box and setting them in front of Josh.

She didn't really have time for a coffee break and a chat. But-well, she was an idiot because she took one anyway.

When she took a seat and looked up at him, he was watching her closely again in that way that unnerved her.

"You know my coffee order?" He sounded surprised, and Beth was mortified, feeling as if she'd given something away.

Josh probably thought she hadn't noticed how much he'd come in here, because she'd usually tried to make herself scarce when he had.

But she knew. Every time.

Like a stalker.

After jumping to her feet, she took a scalding sip of her cappuccino, wincing slightly as it burnt her tongue.

"Yeah. Good memory, I guess," she said weakly. "Anyway, I'd better get started on these pastries. I'm already behind." She started pouring ingredients into her mixers, praying that they were accurate since her brain was too busy being lobotomized by Josh's presence to be any use to her.

"I'll let you get to it then," he said as he stood, coffee cup in hand, extra brownie wrapped in the other.

She also knew the brownies were his favorite. That was how pathetic she was.

"Oh, sure," she said brightly in a voice about five octaves higher than usual. "Thanks for your help."

"Thanks for the coffee and brownies," he countered. "This should be enough caffeine and sugar to make sure I don't fall asleep at my desk."

There was an awkward silence while Beth threw eggs haphazardly into the mixture and prayed he'd leave.

"Hey I know Saturdays are usually boys' poker night but-"

Beth froze. He wasn't going to ask her out, was he? Before she'd even finished the thought, she was scoffing at herself.

Really Beth? Two rejections aren't enough for you? You really wanna go for that hat-trick, huh?

He was probably going to ask her to bake stuff for it or something.

Why the heck wouldn't she get his disinterest through her thick skull?

Suddenly, she couldn't stand the idea of him thinking of her sitting at home on a Saturday night with nothing to do other than feed the men in Grayson's poker group.

It was too humiliating. A girl had to have some pride. "They sure are," she interrupted. "I used to get so upset that it was boys only..." If her laugh was more maniacal than casual, he didn't seem to notice. "...but I don't mind so much, now

that I have a date."

His eyes snapped to attention at her words, an odd look flashing across his face. "You have a date?" he asked-demanded, really. "Who with?"

"Oh, I-he-you wouldn't know him. He he's from Ouray."

"And he's coming here for a date?"

His questions annoyed her. For one thing, it was none of his business, and for another, she was having to think up lie after lie because of them.

She raised a brow, trying to channel Brooke's cool sophistication when she'd dealt with Damon at the wedding last week. "You don't think I'm worth travelling from Ouray for?" she bit out.

He scowled, but she wasn't sure if he was annoyed with her question or with her.

"Of course that's not what I meant. You should know how I feel about you, Beth."

The gentle admonishment, the sadness in his voice-they just confused her and made her sad.

The shrill sound of a phone ringing interrupted their uncomfortable stand-off.

Swearing under his breath, Josh put his brownie on top of his coffee cup and reached into his pocket. He looked at the screen of his phone, his face paling.

And Beth found herself worrying, despite herself. "Is everything ok?" she asked softly.

Josh didn't even look back up at her. "Yeah. I-I have to go."

He turned and hurried from the shop, leaving Beth standing there alone, more confused than ever, and wondering how the heck she was going to find a man to take her out on Saturday night.