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Wanted: One Special Kiss

Chapter One

"I'm sorry, Dr. P, but it's just not working out. Your boys are too big a handful." Rose Sweeney passed Paul Anderson his twin sons, then took a step back and folded her arms. "My Phil needs his sleep, and little Teddy and Rick aren't always cooperative when it comes to nap time."

Keeping his smile intact, Paul sighed inwardly. Rose Sweeney was a friend and, until this moment, his babysitter. His waiting room had been full from the first day he'd hung his shingle in this tiny eastern shore community, but he was still adjusting to his surroundings. He had patients by the dozens; friends here were as scarce as a cup of Starbucks. He didn't want to lose Rose as either.

"If it's a question of money -- "

The young woman held up a work-reddened hand. "You pay me plenty. I'm hurt you'd think I want more."

Great, now he'd insulted one of the few people in town close to his own age. He was batting triple zero for the day.

"I'm sorry if I offended you, Rose. I can't tell you how grateful I am that you've kept the twins this long." He hefted a two-year-old in each arm. "I just finished with my last patient, so I'll take the boys upstairs and give them their dinner."

Rick stuck a finger in his father's ear. "Dinna! Dinna! Dinna!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. Teddy smacked Paul on the side of the head, slapping in time to his brother's chant.

"They sure are loud," said Rose, wincing at the racket. "About frightened my little Sally to death this afternoon when Rick threw one of his temper tantrums."

"Sorry, I'm trying to break him of that habit." He set the boys on theirfeet and, as if on roller skates, they headed for the pile of magazines he'd just straightened. "Could you do me one favor? Keep them for me until someone answers my ad?"

She eyed the twins as if they were puppies let loose on a newly laid carpet. Teddy tossed magazines like chunks of confetti, while Rick continued his call for supper. "I don't know . . . You've been running that ad for a while now. How much longer before you find the right person?"

Paul shrugged as he raised his voice over the racket. "I have an ad in the Eastern Shore News and the Beacon. They come out today. I'm sure someone will respond by Monday or Tuesday."

"So I'd only need to have them for two more days?"

"Tomorrow, Monday, and maybe Tuesday," he agreed, mentally crossing his fingers. "Wednesday at the latest."

"I play Scrabble at the firehouse on Wednesday mornings," she reminded him. "And I have to attend a few of the Founders' Day meetings. You still take that day off, remember?"

It was Paul's day off unless old man Painter's arthritis acted up, or Mary Barton's new baby had another bout of colic, or Pete Starrett fell off a ladder again. But he was sure of one thing. If no one answered the ad this week, he was going to the city council to demand they live up to another of their contractual agreements: help with the care of his sons.

He avoided giving her a direct answer. "I'll do my best to have a full-time nanny by Wednesday."

Rose raised a brow and he knew she was thinking that she'd heard this song before, as had a host of other women in Preston's Ferry. When he'd accepted the city's offer of town physician, they'd promised to supply him with some modern equipment, as well as lend a hand with the boys until he found a fulltime nanny. So far, the townsfolk had kept their word about the office supplies and were supposed to order a portable X-ray machine as soon as they completed the Founders' Day budget. They'd tried to elicit help with the twins too, but everyone who'd spent more than a few days with his energetic sons had run screaming for the Chesapeake faster than a seagull with its tail on fire.

"Okay, drop them off tomorrow morning and I'll explain it to Phil." Rose gave the twins a final onceover, wincing when Teddy shrieked out a laugh. "'Bye, now, fellas. You be good for your daddy, hear?"

Paul locked the door immediately after Rose left, fearful she'd change her mind. Then he turned and focused on his boys. Rick sat on a split vinyl chair, the one with the stuffing peeking out, munching happily on the front cover of Reader's Digest. Teddy, the deep thinker of the two, methodically tore page after page from the newest Eastern Shore Life and set each sheet neatly beside him in a pile.

Paul loved his children, but times like this he really wanted to hunt down his ex-wife Melanie and kick her to Canada and back. He'd collected a truckload of sympathy when word leaked that she'd left him for the electrician who'd come to repair their wiring after a power outage. But deep in his heart, he knew she'd been right. He had shamelessly neglected her and their sons. He only wished she'd clued him in before she'd run off, and given him a chance to change. If that had happened, they might still be married and he might still be the most sought-after plastic surgeon in Baltimore.

"Dinna! Dinna! Dinna!" shouted Rick, beating his fist on what was left of the Reader's Digest.

Paul sighed as he studied his shambled office. It wasn't much, just a small waiting area with mismatched tables, a ratty sofa and chairs, and a desk for the receptionist he'd yet to hire. The single door alongside the desk led to three tiny examining rooms, a makeshift kitchen that doubled as a lab, a patient bathroom, and a closet-sized office for him ...

Wanted: One Special Kiss. Copyright © by Judi McCoy. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.