Page 11 of Rescuing Dr. Marian (Made Marian Legacy #1)

TOMMY

I was freaking the fuck out.

The moment Foster Blake walked out of orientation, my professional facade cracked. My hands shook as I gathered my papers, barely registering the confused looks from the other instructors as they filed out.

How was it possible this man was here right now? He was a sheriff in a completely different state—okay, fine, the state right next door, but sheriffs didn’t have time to go off teaching wilderness courses, especially during peak tourist season. Did they?

And how had I known it was his peak tourist season?

I might have googled Majestic, Wyoming. I might even have bookmarked the sheriff’s office page and spent several hours going down rabbit holes until I found a gap-toothed photo of him holding up a silvery-scaled river trout: “Local legend in the making! 14-year-old Foster Blake snagged ‘Biggest Catch’ at this year’s Majestic River Round-Up. ”

The universe had a sick sense of humor, throwing Foster back into my path just when I’d convinced myself our kiss in Hawaii had been a fever dream brought on by pre-wedding panic and too much bourbon.

Except I knew it hadn’t been the alcohol. It had been him. All him. His laugh, his eyes, the way he’d pulled me against him like he’d wanted to climb inside my skin…

“Tommy? You good?”

I jumped, scattering papers across the floor. Trace, the program director and a good friend of our family, stood in the doorway with one eyebrow raised.

“Fine! Totally fine. Just…” I gestured vaguely at the mess. “Gravity, you know?”

“Uh-huh.” Trace crossed his arms. “Want to tell me what that was about?”

“What what was about?”

“The tension thick enough to cut with a knife between you and my SAR guy? The way you both looked like you’d seen a ghost?”

Fuck. I should have known Trace would notice. The man tracked mountain lions for fun. Reading people was child’s play by comparison.

“It’s…” I swallowed hard. “I know him. From Hawaii.”

Trace’s eyes widened. “Hawaii, as in…?”

“Yeah. I, uh, met him on the plane when I was heading there for the wedding. And later, we had a drink?—”

He cut me off. “Foster Blake is your T-shirt guy ? ”

My cheeks went hot. “How did you hear about that? You weren’t there.”

“Your Uncle Derek told me about what happened because he was worried about you, but he said no one really got the full story.” Trace crossed his arms in front of his chest. “So what happened between the two of you?”

“Nothing?”

“I see.” Trace leaned against the doorframe, watching me intently. “This going to be a problem?”

“No.” I tried to project nonchalance, even though I knew he wouldn’t buy it. “I was just startled, that’s all. We’re both grown adults. Professionals. Besides, we’ll be working on different aspects of the program.”

“You’ll be sharing a room,” he said, lifting an eyebrow. “Medical and SAR are in the same cabin.”

I groaned, slumping into a chair. “Maybe I should go stay with someone else.” There were plenty of people to choose from, not to mention my grandparents’ lodge only a few miles from here, but I’d hoped to stay on campus since I knew the program meant early mornings and long days.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Living on-site is part of the deal. The program has a demanding schedule, you know that. Besides…” Trace’s expression eased. “I’m hoping you’re going to fall in love with SERA and decide to stay on permanently.”

I huffed out a laugh. “Unlikely. My interview at Stanford is in a few weeks, remember? I’m a level one trauma specialist.”

“Billings is only an hour and a half away, and they have two level one trauma centers.” His eyes bored into me. “Besides, I seem to recall you had a thing for wilderness medicine at one point. It’s why I wanted you here.”

He was right. We both knew it. Part of the reason I’d said yes to his offer was to spend time in one of my favorite places, breathe mountain air for a little while, and practice the kind of medicine that felt more like an indulgence than a job.

But that didn’t mean I was about to give up on all of my career plans.

“I appreciate the offer,” I said. “But for right now, I should go make sure Foster doesn’t set my shit on fire.”

“Because that’s a normal response when nothing happened?” Trace let out a breath. “Look, Tommy, we need both of you for this program. Figure it out, or I’ll have to send him home. Don’t want to do that, though. Foster’s the best SAR guy around, and I know how much he wants to be here.”

“I’ll talk to him,” I promised, though my heart was threatening to jackhammer its way out of my chest.

Instead of going to the cabin, I took a walk across the wide expanse of grassland toward the fence along the highway in hopes of getting better cell service.

Ella picked up on the second ring. “What’s up? You in the mood for steak? Lennon’s grilling. I haven’t left the office yet, but?—”

“Did you know he was going to be here?” I hissed, my voice barely above a whisper.

She paused. “Who is he in this scenario? Trace?”

“Foster Blake.”

“Foster… Wait! Wait . Hawaii Guy is at SERA?”

“Yes! And we’re roommates . ”

Her squeal was so loud I had to hold the phone away from my ear. “Tommy! I told you this was kismet. The universe is giving you a second chance!”

“Or punishing me for being an idiot.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. It was clear she hadn’t known about it, but the coincidence was hard to wrap my head around. “You should have seen his face, El. He looked at me like I was something he’d scraped off his boot.”

“Well, you did kiss him senseless a couple days before you were supposed to be marrying someone else,” she reminded me unhelpfully. “What did you expect?”

“I don’t know. I just…” I lowered my voice. “What if I say something stupid?”

“Then he’ll know you’re human. Stop overthinking it and talk to the guy. Worked pretty damn well last time, right? So follow your gut.”

That was laughable. My gut had caused me to throw away a prestigious position in New York and fuck off to Montana. I wasn’t sure my gut was in any position to be making important decisions right now.

“What do I even say to him?”

“The truth,” Ella said simply. “You hated that he didn’t give you a chance to explain everything that morning in Hawaii, so now’s your chance.

Tell him that meeting him made you realize you were living someone else’s life.

That you called off your wedding because of him.

That you’re finally trying to figure out who you really are. ”

“And what if he doesn’t care? ”

“Then at least you’ll know you tried. Jesus, it’s not like you need to marry the guy. Just fuck him. Gotta go!”

My face ignited at the image of a naked Foster Blake moving hungrily against a naked… me . I was so distracted, it took me a long moment to realize she’d hung up.

By the time I approached Cabin 8, the sun was touching the mountaintop, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. I stood outside the door for five minutes, rehearsing what I’d say, before I finally knocked.

From inside, I heard a deep voice— his voice—saying something about “not chewing shoes,” followed by a dog’s excited yip. The sound made me smile despite my nerves. He’d gotten the puppy after all.

The door swung open, and there he was. Foster Blake, even more devastatingly handsome than I remembered.

His dark hair was slightly damp, like he’d just showered, and he wore a faded henley that clung to broad shoulders.

For a split second, I caught something in his eyes—surprise, maybe even a flicker of the same heat from Hawaii—before his expression hardened.

“Dr. Marian,” he said flatly.

“It’s Tommy, actually,” I said, my shoulders around my ears. If he acted like this, it was going to be a long summer.

His jaw tightened, and he growled, “Tommy.”

My skin prickled. Before I could think of anything to say, the puppy crashed into my legs—all floppy ears and oversized paws, tail wagging so hard her entire body wiggled.

“Chickie, no!” Foster commanded, but the dog ignored him completely, standing on her hind legs to paw at my thighs .

I couldn’t help but smile as I crouched down to pet her. “Hello there. Aren’t you friendly?”

“Ignore her,” Foster muttered. “She’s a mess.”

“I don’t mind.” I scratched behind Chickie’s ears, grateful for the momentary distraction. “She’s adorable.”

“She’s a menace,” Foster said, but there was unmistakable affection in his voice. He stepped back, reluctantly making space for me to enter. “I took the bed on the right.”

The cabin was small—two double beds, separated only by a double nightstand with a coffee maker on top, a tiny table with two chairs, and a small bathroom.

It had seemed fine when I’d brought my stuff over from Ella’s house this afternoon, but now there was barely enough room for two grown men to coexist without constantly brushing against each other. This was going to be torture.

I sat on the edge of the other bed and turned to face him. “Foster, I think we should talk about?—”

“No need,” he said curtly. “I’m good.”

“I’d still like a chance to explain.”

“What’s there to explain? You were in Hawaii to get married,” he said, voice clipped. “I figured that out when I saw you literally labeled ‘Groom’ standing next to a lovely woman labeled ‘Bride.’ Couldn’t have been clearer, so thanks for that.”

I swallowed hard, trying to figure out how to tell him I’d called off the wedding. That I was single now. That if he would ever want to?—

“It’s eight weeks, Tommy,” he clipped. “We’re here to work, so let’s do that.” Foster moved away from me, focusing on emptying his duffle into the nightstand drawers .

My body betrayed me with a strange numbness.

Work . Right. Message received.

Chickie sniffed at my hand before giving it a big lick. I squatted down to stroke her silky ears. “How old is she?”