A Match for the Doctor by Marie Ferrarella

that he liked to focus on one thing at a time. “Dinner is chicken parmesan,” she told him.
    The patient list he’d acquired from the retiring partner in the medical firm had proven to be heavy. He’d skipped lunch to catch up on extraneous work, organizing things his way. The mention of food had his stomach all but sitting up and begging. He nodded, tempted to ask how soon before dinner would be on the table.
    â€œSounds good.”
    Back to the point, she thought. A point she obviously was going to have to hit him over the head with. “Doctor, I’d like to begin working on your house.”
    â€œThen go ahead,” he told her with a wave of his hand. Since she was making no reference to the check, he slipped his checkbook back into his pocket. “I’ve already told you that you have the job.”
    â€œAnd you really won’t accompany me to any of the furniture stores?” Rather than answer, he gave her a look that told her what he thought of spending time shopping for anything, much less furniture. “Not even one store?” she pressed, holding up a single finger in front of him.
    Her index finger was so close to his face that he reacted instinctively, wrapping his hand around it to move the digit away. He’d intended to push her finger down. Instead, something strange, fast and hot seemed to zip through him, not unlike an electric current, the moment his hand touched hers.
    A beat later, he recovered himself, pushed her handdown and shook his head. “I don’t have the time,” he informed her.
    Kennon looked over her shoulder and fell back on her secret weapon. She cleared her throat, and suddenly Madelyn and Meghan came running into the room to greet him.
    Meghan, the live wire of the duo, grabbed her father’s hand, tugged on it and immediately begged, “Please, Daddy, come with us.”
    â€œCome with you where?” he asked, confused.
    He loved them both—how could he not? But he had never been a demonstrative kind of man, nor was he really very vocal. With nothing to fall back on as an example and no one to defer to, Simon hadn’t a clue how to really relate to either one of his daughters. They were little people, visitors from a world he was completely unfamiliar with. His own childhood seemed as if it had happened eons ago and nothing stood out—nothing could be singled out as an occurrence to remember forever.
    â€œTo the furniture store,” Madelyn told him, picking up the thread from her sister. “Kennon’s taking us with her tomorrow to see what we like.”
    â€œI’ve decided to start with their rooms first,” Kennon explained, since the girls at least were eager to give their input.
    â€œCome with us, Daddy,” Meghan begged. “We want you there.”
    â€œYes, please, Daddy,” Madelyn chimed in. And then came the crowning touch. Guilt. “We never do anything with you.”
    He raised his eyes to Kennon’s face. This seemed a bit too organized to him.
    â€œThis your idea?” he asked.
    It was a rhetorical question. Why else would his daughters suddenly begin pleading for him to go with them to a furniture store, of all places? They’d never behaved like this before.
    â€œWhat?” Kennon asked innocently. “That the girls want to spend some time with their father?” She mentally crossed her fingers behind her back. “No, they came up with that all by themselves.”
    â€œMost kids ask for trips to amusement parks, not furniture stores,” he pointed out.
    â€œWhat can I say? Your girls are exceptionally mature for their ages.” And then she dropped the teasing tone. “Besides, I suspect that it’s a matter of taking what they can get.” When he looked at her, a question entering his dark eyes, she elaborated. “Amusement parks are all-day commitments. A furniture store is an hour and a half, tops. Maybe they’re