Hotshot Doc Page 12

  “Cooper, there you are! I was worried you wouldn’t make it,” says a polite, feminine voice. It belongs to the woman standing up and waving us over. She has the same ashy blonde hair and easygoing smile as my date. She’s wearing a dark plum dress with a cashmere scarf tied stylishly around her shoulders. She is, of course, Cooper’s mother.

  I wish we were meeting each other under different circumstances, but I aim a smile at her all the same. Her own smile widens in response and a small sense of relief rushes through me just before the world slips out from beneath my feet.

  We’re turning into the pew when I freeze.

  Cooper runs into me from behind and I nearly topple forward like a domino. He grabs my elbow to right me, but I can’t feel his touch because I’m staring at a figment of my imagination, or maybe it’s just my worst nightmare.

  “Dr. Russell?” I ask, voice barely above a whisper.

  My boss shoots to his feet, all six-plus feet of him. My mouth hangs agape. My heart sputters to a screeching halt in my chest. He’s nothing but darkness—his hair, his suit, his demeanor—everything except for his blue eyes, which are the exact shade of my dress.

  His gaze slices over to Cooper. “Are you kidding me? You brought her?”

  He talks to him like they know each other.

  Wait.

  My gaze snaps back to Cooper.

  Do they know each other?!

  A heavy organ starts to echo around the chapel, announcing the start of the ceremony. Cooper ushers me forward and tugs me down so the backs of my thighs hit the hard wood of the pew.

  His mom leans forward and narrows her eyes on Dr. Russell. “Do you know Cooper’s date?”

  At the same time, Cooper’s hand hits my shoulder. “Here, let me get your coat.”

  I lean forward and let him tug it off.

  Everything is happening so fast.

  “Yes, Mom. We work together,” Dr. Russell answers simply, turning back to me.

  “How is this—”

  My sentence trails off at the exact moment I lay eyes on the man on the other side of Cooper’s mom, the last person in their group. His black hair might be sprinkled with salt and the glasses perched on the end of his nose detract from the similarities, but there’s no doubt I’m staring at Dr. Russell’s father.

  Equations swirl in my head. So, if that woman is Cooper’s mom…and that man is Dr. Russell’s dad then…E = mc2?

  “Matt’s my brother,” Cooper whispers quickly in my ear before he lays my coat on the pew on the other side of him.

  The word collides into me with the subtlety of a Mack truck.

  BROTHER. As in related, as in I’m sandwiched between my date and my boss. Brothers. The man I’m supposed to be into and the man I can’t get out of my head. This makes absolutely no sense. I have so many questions and I can’t ask them because there is a freaking wedding ceremony taking place around us. The mother of the bride and the mother of the groom are gushing and pink and sparkly and they’re being ushered down the aisle so they can take their seats two pews in front of ours.

  It’d be rude to talk now, so I bite my tongue and try to stare straight ahead. Good. There. Focus on Jesus.

  It doesn’t work.

  I’m well aware I’m shaking while the men around me sit perfectly still. This isn’t as shocking to them as it is to me. What did Dr. Russell say when he first saw me?

  “You brought her?”

  So he was surprised to see me here, but not surprised to see that I knew Cooper.

  What the hell does that mean?

  I can feel Dr. Russell’s gaze on me. He wants me to turn toward him, but I won’t. I shift a little in my seat and now his thigh presses against mine. He doesn’t move away, and I don’t know what to do. The lacy fabric of my dress bunches up between us, but it doesn’t matter. His suit pants are searing my skin all the same, and it’s so hot we’re fused now, because no matter how much I scream at myself to move away, I can’t. It’s just not possible.

  Cooper’s hand wraps around mine on the other side and he squeezes reassuringly.

  A moment later, Dr. Russell’s hand clenches around his wedding program.

  I frown and he must catch it because he offers the program to me, like that’s what I wanted—his stupid program. The backs of our fingers barely touch as I take it and yet the contact zips across my heart like he just hauled me up against a wall and kissed me.

  Kissed me.

  I stifle a laugh.

  Grow up.

  I might not be able to move my leg from his, but I turn my body so I’m angled toward the aisle, toward Cooper. My long hair falls over my shoulder and I can feel Dr. Russell’s gaze on the back of my neck and my bare back. Why did I pick this dress? Oh right, it wasn’t my choice.

  I can’t believe this is happening. Yesterday’s car ride was intense to say the least. I thought I’d have another 24 hours to work up what I wanted to say to him. Now here we are, thigh to thigh at a wedding. And there’s that smell again, his cologne. I want to buy up every bottle in existence and pour them down a toilet.

  Cooper catches my eye, smiles, and mouths, “Sorry.”

  I don’t say a word.

  There’ll be plenty of time for explanations after the ceremony when I don’t have a million pairs of curious eyes focused on me.

  Chapter 14

  MATT

  It’s the cocktail hour between the ceremony and the reception, an hour in which I plan on drinking my body weight in alcohol in the hopes that it will distract me from the fact that Bailey is here at this wedding with my brother.

  She’s standing right beside me, listening to Cooper try to explain his way out of this situation. I take another sip of my drink and am already trying to flag down a passing waiter so I can order another.

  Bailey’s angry, though I’m not surprised. My brother handled the situation deplorably and now somehow, I’m in the middle of what feels dangerously close to a love triangle I want nothing to do with.

  “So you see, it’s pretty simple. Bailey, you came into the bar with a few of your friends. I was there waiting for Matt. He never showed and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to meet you.”

  Cooper’s standing in front of me like a dog with his tail between his legs. Bailey’s eyes could burn a hole through his head if he’s not careful. “Okay, fine, but did you know at the time that I worked for Dr. Russell?”

  Again with the Dr. Russell bullshit. We’re off the clock.

  “Matt,” I correct.

  She shoots me a quick, searing glare that leaves me with third-degree burns.

  Cooper adjusts his shirt collar, clearly uncomfortable. “I figured it out later that night.”

  “So then why didn’t you just tell me? We’ve been texting for weeks.” She shakes her head. “This just feels weird now.”

  Cooper steps forward, his tone taking on a pleading lilt. “I was going to tell you, but then I got busy with work, and tonight seemed like as good an opportunity as any.”

  Honestly, I don’t mind standing here. It’s like watching a slow-moving train wreck. I kind of like watching him squirm. I move to take another sip of my drink but stall when Bailey’s eyes slice over to me again.

  “And you knew too? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I chuckle and shake my head. “I don’t think so. This isn’t my fight. If you’re going to be mad at someone, it should be your date.”

  She crosses her arms, clearly in disagreement. “Yesterday when you were driving me home, you could have told me about Cooper. There was plenty of time.”

  I finish bringing my glass to my mouth in lieu of replying. The drink burns just a little on the way down, but it’s nothing compared to her gaze raking over me, taking in the suit I picked up yesterday while she waited in the car. It seems to offend her as much as my brother and I have.

  “Wait, what do you mean?” Coop asks indignantly. “Driving her home?”

  Oh, this is rich.

  Cooper’
s the angry one now, and I can’t help but laugh. “Relax, Coop. It was raining and I didn’t want your precious date to walk home. You can stop looking at me like you want to kill me.”

  “This is a mess.” Bailey tosses her hands up and walks away. “You two can sort it out. I’m getting a drink.”

  When she’s out of earshot, I step toward Cooper so we’re toe to toe and he can’t look away. “What the fuck were you thinking bringing her here as your date? Is this a game to you?”

  He squares his shoulders and cocks his jaw. “Not a game—an experiment. I knew it would make you mad if I brought her, so I couldn’t resist. You’ve acted so weird about me talking to her. I wanted to see for myself how you’d act if she came tonight, and my suspicions were correct.”

  I arch a brow. “Oh yeah? Please, enlighten me.”

  He smiles smugly. “You like Bailey. When I showed up, you weren’t upset that she was here. You were upset that she was here with me.”

  I push him hard. He loses his footing and stumbles back.

  My reaction surprises us both. Sure, we roughhoused as teenagers, but we’ve never gotten into anything physical as adults.

  “You’re acting like an idiot,” I say, stepping forward again. I’m starting to get pissed.

  He meets me halfway and gets right up in my face, finger hitting my chest. “Maybe so, but at least I’m not a miserable asshole. You’re so used to being alone, you don’t even recognize an opportunity to be happy when it’s staring you in the face.”

  One of our uncles suddenly steps between us, laughing awkwardly. “Everything okay over here, boys?”

  “Peachy,” Cooper says, holding his hands up in innocence. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find my date.”

  I let him walk away, run a hand down my suit jacket, and try to shove aside Cooper’s brand of pop psych trying to take root in my brain. He thinks I turn into a caveman where Bailey is concerned, and he assumes it’s because I have feelings for her. Maybe I just don’t want my brother screwing my employee. Maybe that’s a headache I’d rather avoid.

  This is stupid.

  I grab another drink from a passing waiter. It’s crisp, bubbly champagne, and though I’d rather sling the glass against the wall to release some of this pent-up anger, I down it in one go then drop the flute back on the waiter’s tray. His eyes are wide. I’m probably the first guest he’s seen shotgun a glass of champagne tonight.

  I finish my other drink and hand it off too.

  “Uh, sir…can I get you something else?”

  I shake my head and brush past him, unsure exactly where I’m headed until I spot Bailey across the room at the bar talking to my parents.

  Hilarious. What in the world could they be discussing?

  Cooper’s nowhere in sight, but I’m sure he’ll reappear near Bailey soon and do something else to raise my hackles, like kissing her cheek or wrapping an arm around her lower back. He held her hand during the ceremony. Fucking ridiculous. I don’t like PDA, the touchy-feely bullshit. He did it to make me mad—he just admitted to that—and yet I don’t forgive him. If anything, it makes me angrier. Does Bailey know she’s just a pawn in his game?

  It doesn’t look like it. She got dressed up tonight. Her silky blonde hair is down and curly. Her makeup accentuates every one of her flawless features. She doesn’t put this much effort into her appearance for work, and really, it’s not necessary. The makeup and the outfit are nice, and sure, she’s turning heads tonight, but I actually prefer her fresh-faced complexion. The cheekbones, the light blonde hair, the winning smile—she has a sort of girl-next-door charm that shines on its own.

  Just for a moment, I indulge in the idea of considering her as I would any other woman. I ignore the complications of our relationship and think only of her fiery personality, her confidence and strength in the operating room. I drag my eyes down her tight blue dress and toned legs. A burning ache grips hold of me, but then it’s doused with a healthy dose of guilt. Bailey isn’t just a woman. She’s my surgical assistant, and she doesn’t want me checking her out.

  “Matt!” my mom says as she sees me approach. “Bailey here was just explaining that you two work together. I had no idea!”

  “I’m afraid we’ve been pestering her with questions,” my dad adds, sending Bailey an appreciative smile. “Mostly about what you’re like as a boss.”

  “I’m not technically Bailey’s boss,” I clarify with a hard tone. “I don’t sign her paychecks.”

  My black cloud temporarily sours everyone’s pleasant mood, but Bailey salvages it. “Just this week, we had an especially grueling surgery. Dr. Russell succeeded in doing a procedure only a handful of surgeons in the country could even attempt.”

  My parents’ eyes are alight with wonder. I never talk about my job with them. “It wasn’t that exciting,” I clarify, slightly embarrassed by the attention.

  My mom’s hand bats my shoulder. “Oh stop. Now, Bailey, what do you do during surgery? I’ve never even heard of a surgical assistant.”

  “She’s like my right hand. Closing, dressing the wound, passing me instruments. I wouldn’t be able to operate without her.”

  I’m staring down at my drink when I say all this, but then the deafening silence is too much to ignore. I finally glance up and Bailey is staring at me with wide, shocked eyes. My mom’s watching me with a curious little smile. My dad—thank God—is drinking his beer and keeping his lips zipped.

  I sigh and rake a hand through my hair. “Bailey, can I speak with you for a second?”

  Before she answers, I step forward, place a hand on her arm, just above her elbow, and lead her to an empty cocktail table across the room.

  “Slow down,” she insists. “You’re nearly running and I can’t move that fast in these shoes.”

  I sigh and slow my pace, aware of how tightly I’m gripping her arm—not painfully, but unyielding all the same.

  Once we reach the table, I deposit her on one side and walk around until we’re facing one another.

  “Just to be clear,” she says, pleasant tone gone. “I was just being polite in front of your parents.”

  Of course.

  “What did Cooper say about this wedding when he invited you here tonight?” I ask, all business.

  Her cheeks redden and she wrings her hands. “Um, I don’t know…just that it was a small ceremony. No pressure, that sort of thing.”

  “He didn’t mention me at all?”

  “Obviously not.” Her tone hardens. “Even though he definitely should have.”

  I nod. The next few minutes are going to be extremely painful, but I have to be honest with her about the situation or it’s going to explode in my face. Cooper might want to play with people’s emotions, but he doesn’t have to face Bailey at work come Monday morning. I do.

  “Do you have feelings for Cooper?” I ask, my head tipped to the side, eyes narrowed.

  Her brows shoot up. She glances away. “Feelings? Ah…”

  She’s all but grimacing with disdain and I want to grin, but I have enough sense to stifle the urge. “That’s what I thought, and it’s just as well, because Cooper only brought you here to make me jealous.”

  Nothing like having the truth shot right out of a cannon.

  Her light brown eyes are focused on the cocktail table and there’s untold emotion simmering there. Is she hurt by the revelation? Or just curious to hear the rest of the story?

  I sigh and steel myself for her reaction as I continue. “It’s too complicated and stupid to have to explain, but essentially, Cooper got it into his head that I didn’t like you two dating. He’s under the assumption that I have some burning desire to be with you, and he thought bringing you here tonight was the perfect way to test his theory.”

  Her brows scrunch together as she shakes her head. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” At least we agree on something. “Burning desire? For me? Pfft.”

  Her gaze lifts to mine and a fist gra
bs hold of my chest.

  Then, she does the absolute last thing I ever expected: she smiles.

  “Honestly, I can’t even be mad that he invited me here under false pretenses. I wasn’t the one who agreed to this date.”

  What?

  Now I’m the one leaning forward, waiting for answers.

  “It was my little sister.” She shrugs. “I really hate texting, so she started doing it on my behalf and got a little carried away. I didn’t even know about this wedding until after she had agreed I’d go.”

  Relief floods my veins. “You’re kidding.”

  She bites her bottom lip to stifle her smile and shakes her head. “No. She thinks I need to get out and date more. Cooper just happened to be the first guy to show any interest.”

  “That can’t be true.”

  In a flash, her smile is gone. “Well it is. We’re not all famous spine surgeons with thick hair and the brooding personality of Mr. Darcy.”

  I frown. “‘Brooding personality of Mr. Darcy’…what in the world are you talking about?”

  “Oh, c’mon.” She waves her hand in my direction. “I don’t have the energy to feed your ego. You’re a doctor and you’re attractive and if you bothered to go on a dating app, your thumbs would fall off from the amount of matches you’d get in 24 hours. They’d have to add a new server just to handle the overflow of traffic.”

  I shoot her a disbelieving smile. “How many drinks have you had?” She doesn’t like my joke, rolling her eyes and moving to walk away, but I grab her wrist. “Wait.”

  There it is again: skin on skin. We’ve been doing it all night. Her fingers brushed mine when I handed her my wedding program. Our thighs pressed together during the ceremony. I held her elbow as I led her to this table. Now, I have her wrist, and it’s so delicate it’s like she’ll bruise if I’m not careful.