The Wish List Read Online Free Page A

at her. He scratched his head and pulled his teddy bear close, fiddling with the nearly defuzzed left ear.
    “I don’t know. What do you think?” He covered his mouth to hide a yawn and crawled back onto the bed.
    Faith smiled, watching her son trying to stay awake. “I think that we should talk about this when we’re both a little more wide awake. After all, we have time. The daddies of the world are not simply going to disappear overnight.”
    Cory looked uncertain, but as another yawn crept up on him, he nodded his agreement. “Maybe I’ll think of some more later. After Scotty’s dad comes to school.”
    Faith smiled and dropped another kiss on Cory’s forehead, then tucked him into his bed. As she wandered from the room and quietly shut the door, she looked down at the words on the list she still held in her hand. Black hair and brown eyes .
    Her first instincts about the day had been right. Several wonderful things had happened. She’d gotten through her interview with Nathan Murphy and came out—well, mostly unscathed. What’s more, she and Cory had begun their search for the perfect man.
    Black hair and brown eyes. It made sense to her.
    Tomorrow she’d begin arranging her schedule so that she’d have time for an angry, blond-haired, green-eyed giant. But that wasn’t going to be a problem, after all.
    Raising the scrap of paper so that the words stood out clearly, Faith read the words once again.
    Black hair and brown eyes.
    Turning to Cory’s closed door, she smiled. Her son wanted a father with hair and eyes the color of his own.
    It was a wise choice. She guessed she’d just have to do her best to find him what he wanted.

Chapter Two

     
    If Faith had thought things would be easy just because she and Dr. Murphy had cleared one hurdle, she was apprised of her error the minute she walked through his door the next day.
    With an armload of supplies, Faith fumbled for the knob, stumbled into the house and found herself face-to-face with the second button on Nathan’s shirt.
    She bounced backward two steps and looked up, straight into those fierce green eyes.
    “You’re late, Ms. Reynolds,” he said softly. “Again.”
    His long, jean-clad legs were spread wide, his arms crossed, emphasizing the chest beneath his white knit shirt. He was a good foot taller than Faith. Most women would have been intimidated. Or intrigued.
    But Faith’s eyes clung to the vision of his impressive body mere seconds before lighting instead on the awkward spread of his hands that should have been gripping his biceps. He didn’t know what to do with those hands, the hands that had once been flexible, talented, capable of performing delicate surgery in spaces that would have made other surgeons blanch. His hands were the only things out of sync with the image of outrage signified by his stance.
    “It’s nice to know you were worried,” she said with a smile, not letting him see the concern that she felt when she looked at those hands.
    Nathan’s jaw tightened at her flippant words, his eyes narrowed slightly. “Worried isn’t the word I’d use. I’m just disappointed that you showed up at all, Ms. Reynolds. I was hoping you’d decided to be reasonable and back off.”
    “Reasonable?” Faith blinked her eyes wide. “Whatever gave you the idea that I would be reasonable? Good therapists aren’t. They’re pushy, bossy people who don’t know the meaning of the word quit . And it’s a good thing, too. There are a lot of people dancing tangos today who’d still be confined to wheelchairs if their therapists had been reasonable. Now, hold out your hands.”
    Nathan stood there looking at her as if she’d just ordered him to drop his pants in public.
    “Hold out your hands, Dr. Murphy,” she repeated slowly.
    “What for?”
    “For this,” she said, lifting the box she held in her arms. “You need to find a place to put it. I need to get the rest of the equipment out of my car.”
    Still Nathan didn’t