David would never admit to anyone, especially Victoria, who loved to tease him about it, that he’d begun to look forward to Daisy’s end-of-the-day visits to the clinic. Ever since he’d tended to her after her ex-boyfriend beat her up, she’d been extremely devoted to him. “I thought you left.”

“I met up with your friend in the parking lot and waited with her until you were done with Grant.”

“That was nice of you. Thanks.”

“You’re not leading her on, are you?” Victoria whispered.

“Of course not. We’re friends.”

“Just friends?”

Her questions were annoying him. “Yes.”

“Does she know that?” Victoria asked with an eyebrow raised in inquiry.

“Send her in.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Send her in, please.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do in the exam rooms.”

David felt his face heat like an embarrassed schoolboy. “Victoria!” he said in a low growl.

“I’m going, I’m going!”

Rattled by Victoria’s insinuations—and how close to home they struck—he ran his fingers through his hair to straighten it after the long day at the clinic and stood to tuck in his shirttail. Why was he primping for her?

She came around the corner a minute later, her sweet smile leading the way as she proceeded hesitantly. Her long blonde hair was pulled back from her face, and her big blue eyes were luminous and bright with excitement. Even though her face still bore the yellowing bruises from Truck’s assault, she looked a little better every day.

He’d enjoyed watching her become less timid and more confident as she recovered from her injuries. After a few days of checking on her at home after work, David had stopped himself from going back again. She was on the mend and didn’t need to be checked every day.

Once he’d stopped going to her, however, she’d started coming to him. He told himself it didn’t mean anything. They’d struck up an unlikely friendship after the incident with her ex. That’s all it was. Except that he’d come to look forward to talking with her, to hearing her opinions and insightful thoughts on whatever was on his mind.

“David? Are you okay?”

He realized he was staring at her and blinked—twice—to clear his muddled brain. “Yes, sorry. Come in. Have a seat.” It had taken some doing to get her to call him by his first name, and he was pleased she’d taken that step.

“Am I bothering you?”

He sat in the chair behind his desk. “Not at all. I was just catching up on some paperwork.” Gesturing to the stack of charts on his desk, he said, “It never ends.”

“I brought you some of the pot roast one of my friends made for me.”