2. Prescription For Love

The farmers’ market was a ring of tents set up in a big pasture along the river on the outskirts of Saratoga, an historic village known for its racetrack, medicinal spas, and fine restaurants. Flann pulled behind a line of cars parked on the shoulder of the road, and they walked up the highway toward the fluttering canvases and the rumble of voices. Flann took her hand as they walked and caught Abby off guard by how much she enjoyed the simple proprietary gesture. The last time she’d been on a date with someone who was so easily physical and effortlessly possessive had been

never. She never would have thought she’d enjoy being so publicly involved with anyone, but she liked being seen with Flann, being her

date. Well, really. She was the one wearing blinders, and that was just plain embarrassing.

“Thanks for bringing me here. It’s a fabulous day.”

“And it’s just beginning.”

Her seductive croon sent a warm wave rushing through Abby’s core. Searching for a safe topic,

Abby blurted, “Do you cook?”

Flann grinned, not looking at her. Her face in profile was sculpted and bold. “I grill.”

“Does your apartment have a yard?”

“My apartment doesn’t have anything except three serviceable rooms, a little bit of furniture, and a television set.”

Flann stopped at a card table set up under a multicolored umbrella and bought two paper cups filled with real lemonade from a smiling preteen with braces and beautiful sea-green eyes. “Harper lives in a house on the farm, doesn’t she?” “That’s right,” Flann said nonchalantly.

“The place Carrie is moving into?”

“Yep.”

“You didn’t want to live there?”

Flann stopped again, bought two homemade chocolate chip cookies, and handed her one. “Nope.” “I’m sorry. I’m being nosy.”

Flann stopped and met her gaze. “No, you’re not. I’m being a jerk.”

“No, you’re—”

“Harper is the oldest, but that’s not why she’s my father’s successor. She’s always been the brightest and the best. I always wanted to be her, but I never quite made it. I don’t want to step into her shoes now.”

“I don’t blame you.” Abby frowned. “But you do realize you’re an accomplished surgeon and a genuinely good person, don’t you?”

Flann blushed. “Thanks.”

“And I would add extremely attractive, but I doubt that matters to your parents.” Flann grinned. “Matters to me if you think so.” “Oh, I think so,” Abby murmured.

“We should go somewhere so I can kiss you.”

“Absolutely not. I want to see the rest of this place,” Abby said, glad to see the light spark in Flann’s eyes again. She started walking and Flann grabbed her hand, falling into step with her. “So if you don’t grill at your place, where do you grill?”

“I’m the official chef at all the summer softball league barbecues—usually at least once a month. I help out at the pig roast, and every now and then my father lets me assist at family get-togethers.”

At the mention of softball, Abby thought about Carrie again. “There’s another game this week, isn’t there?”

“A couple. Usually Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday.”

“You can’t play with your leg.”

“Thought I’d try it on Sunday, but there’s a game Friday. Are you going to come?” “I don’t play.”

“How about cheering? I could use a bigger fan section.”

Abby laughed as they crossed the grass and began walking along the rows of tables. Signs announced local farms and other businesses. Tables were heaped with fresh fruit, vegetables, breads, cheeses, and even meats in coolers.

“I can’t believe you’re lacking in fans.”

Flann shook her head. “Harper and Carrie are the stars of our team.”

“How is that?”

“Carrie is a phenomenal pitcher—pitched in college. Harper is a home-run star.”

“And you? What’s your claim to fame? And don’t tell me you don’t have one.” Abby purchased a cardboard box of raspberries and almost groaned at the sweet burst of flavor. She held one out to Flann, who dipped her head and caught it between her lips. Abby’s fingers tingled. “Could you try to behave for five minutes?”

Flann grinned. “I almost always get on base, and I hold the record for bases stolen.” “Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” Abby shook her head. Stolen bases, stolen hearts.

“I’m fast and I’m wily.”

“And you’re interested in seeing the star pitcher.” As soon as Abby said it, she regretted it. It was none of her business who Flann was dating. “And that is totally none of my business. Sorry.”

Flann slowed in front of the table, picked up a peach, and handed the buxom blonde behind the table two dollars. She took a bite, and then held the golden fruit, juices dripping onto her fingers, out to Abby. “Try this. I guarantee you’ve never tasted anything like it.”