Hotshot Doc Page 15

  There’s no hesitation, no backpedaling on his part. He just replies confidently, “No. In fact, I stand by all of it. What I admitted to you last night about how it made me jealous to see you arrive at the wedding with my brother—that was true.”

  My eyes bug out of my head.

  “Oh…”

  I have no clue what to say in response. I had a laugh and a No worries, bud ready in my chamber. I was going to play it off right along with him. Yes, yes, what a strange night. Could you put my omelet in a to-go box please? Thank you. Bye!

  He sighs and steps back up to the island, starting to crack eggs into a mixing bowl.

  “Would you mind chopping the spinach?” he asks. “I need food before we continue.”

  Who cares about spinach at a time like this?!

  But, I do as I’m told, standing across from him at his kitchen island and helping him prepare breakfast. I sip my coffee and try to forget I’m still wearing a fancy cocktail dress and yesterday’s makeup. He doesn’t seem to mind, at least I don’t think he does. I catch him studying me as I top off my mug.

  “What?” I swat aimlessly at my face.

  He shakes his head with a secret little smile. “Nothing. C’mon, let’s eat.”

  “Okay, but first…for the love of God, you have to put a shirt on.”

  Chapter 17

  MATT

  I can’t believe how badly I’ve screwed things up. I think I’ve really terrified her. Bailey’s sitting on the very edge of her chair, taking small, quick bites of omelet. Her knees bounce under the table. Her mind is working overtime, which is understandable; a lot has happened in the last 24 hours.

  I woke up yesterday and Bailey was still categorized as coworker in my mind.

  By the end of the night she’d slipped into potential love interest.

  I haven’t really come to terms with what that means, but we could figure it out together if she’d ever work up the courage to meet my eyes.

  When I admitted that it made me jealous to see her arrive at the wedding with my brother, she looked terrified. Her reply said it all.

  “Oh…”

  Her face paled. Her eyes widened. I wanted to shout quickly, Oh, HA HA. Just kidding! like a fool.

  Now, she pushes her food around, not really eating.

  “Do you not like it?”

  “Oh, no. I do!”

  I watch as she takes a big bite and forces it down.

  I don’t think it’s a good idea to continue discussing my feelings at the moment. She’s tired. There are bags under her eyes, and I feel bad that she’s still in her dress from last night. I offer her clothes to change into and she acts as if I’ve just proposed marriage.

  “No! Oh my god. No. Thank you though…”

  Right.

  Then, let’s just sit here in silence.

  After a few more tense, awkward minutes, we finish eating and I load the dishes. When I’m done, I turn to find Bailey standing at the threshold of the kitchen holding her purse and jacket. She’s ready to go.

  “Would you mind taking me home? I can get an Uber, but I thought I’d ask just in case…”

  I frown. “Of course. Yes. Let me just grab my shoes.”

  I hate that I seem to be fumbling this. She doesn’t have to rush out, but it’s not really appropriate for me to ask her to stay either. It’s not that shocking that she’s ready to bolt when I consider the timeline of events from last night. She showed up to my cousin’s wedding as my brother’s date. I told her it made me jealous. Then I got rip-roaring drunk and rambled on and on about my depressing divorce and loneliness. She didn’t come to my house willingly. She had to attend to a drunken idiot. It’s no surprise she’s counting the minutes until she’s out of my presence.

  I lead her outside and open the passenger-side door of my car for her. She thanks me and hurries to get out of the cold. I move to the driver’s side, but when I sit, my knees collide with the steering wheel. It’s like my car shrunk three sizes overnight.

  Bailey stifles a laugh. “Oh yeah, sorry. I had to shift your seat up so I could reach the pedals.”

  Her laughter eases the knot in my stomach and I’m reminded that this doesn’t have to be so bad. Sure, a part of me wants to turn to her at the first stop sign and speak candidly: Bailey, I find you attractive and I want to ask you out on a date.

  Simple as that. Unfortunately, I don’t think she’d say yes.

  I’m watching her out of the corner of my eye. She’s drumming her hands on her legs, ready to leap from the car at any moment.

  When we arrive outside her house, she turns and thanks me for the ride. “I truly appreciate it.”

  I drag a hand across my chin. “It’s the least I could do after you took care of me last night.”

  “It wasn’t as bad as you think. I’m the one who begged you to kiss me in my sleep, remember?”

  Her cheeks redden at the recollection.

  I have to fight back a grin. “Like I said, it was cute. I knew you were dreaming.”

  “Yeah.”

  Her gaze flicks down to my mouth. She should get out and walk up to her house. We have nothing else to say to one another, but she doesn’t move. She turns to face me and I furrow my brows in question.

  She’s a tiny thing and yet her presence fills up my car. Her jacket is so ridiculously pink and puffy. Her cheeks are rosy from the chilly air. I inhale and catch a whiff of her perfume. Her eyes are drowning in emotions she’s not giving voice to. I want to order her to speak, but she’s nibbling on her bottom lip and I don’t want her to stop doing that either.

  She turns to her door and fingers the handle, like she’s thinking about getting out. Then she glances back to me.

  The next few milliseconds pass like small eternities. My heart beats painfully in my chest. My hands leave the steering wheel and she leans an inch toward me. It’s barely anything, really. I think she might not even realize it, but that inch is a plea and I don’t hesitate. I slide one hand into her hair and bring her toward me.

  This is insane.

  I need to release her and let her go.

  I’ve done enough.

  “Matt.”

  My name is a spell and there’s no hope now.

  My voice is hoarse when I speak. “I’m going to…”

  Kiss you.

  And I do. Our lips meet ever so gently at first, and I brace for the inevitable shove to my chest, the jerk of her head as she turns and offers me her cheek, but then she sighs against my mouth and I am a man without self-control. I want this girl and at this moment, she’s sitting in my car, fisting my shirt, and pulling me toward her. My head tilts to the side and our lips fit like they were made for each other. Her mouth opens just enough so I can test the waters. My tongue touches her lips and my stomach tightens in response.

  One of her hands glides up and around my neck. She strings her fingers through my hair and moans like she’s been wanting to do that for weeks.

  An innocent kiss turns into more and I want to haul her up and over onto my lap, but this space is too tight for those kinds of extracurricular activities. Fuck the environment—next time, I’m buying a Hummer.

  We’re kissing and hungry for one another and she’s trying to speak, but I’m not letting her.

  I have a hand tangled in her silky hair. I drag the pad of my finger across the sensitive skin just at the nape of her neck and she shivers. My dick strains against my pants. I could push us a little further. I could unzip the top of her dress and slide it off her shoulders. This could be a morning we’d never forget and maybe she knows that because she’s pulling back now, catching her breath.

  Her lips are swollen and red.

  Her dress sits slightly askew on her shoulder because I was tugging at it, wanting it gone, wanting to drag my hand down her smooth shoulder and collarbone, lower until I felt the small curve of her breast. Her chest is flushed with color and it matches her cheeks perfectly. The rest of her is still porcelain, and it’s a fit
ting combination: strawberries and cream. I want to lick her from head to toe.

  Her hand presses against her lips like she’s checking to see if they’re still there.

  I tug her hand away so I can lean forward and kiss her again. It’s meant to be suggestive. I take her bottom lip gently between my teeth and the move says, We could do this all day, Bailey, if only you’d let me.

  Her eyes widen and she jerks back, out of reach. “Oh my god.”

  That’s all she says, but the three words bring the real world crashing back down around us. We’re in my car, sitting outside Bailey’s house. She’s going to get out soon, disappear inside, and presumably enjoy the rest of her Sunday. Tomorrow, she’ll step back into New England Medical Center and she’ll be my surgical assistant, standing across from me at the operating table, off limits in so many ways.

  She drags her hand down her face, and that’s when I notice she’s staring out the window, past my head. I realize then that the “Oh my god” she uttered wasn’t in reaction to our kiss. Fresh hope blooms in my chest.

  “We have company,” she announces, biting down a smile.

  I turn and sure enough, I spot a teenage girl’s face pressed against a large window in the front of Bailey’s house.

  “That’s my sister.” She groans in embarrassment. “She probably saw all of that.”

  I smirk and wave. The girl’s eyes widen before she ducks down out of sight.

  “She’s gone now.”

  “Yeah, right.” She grunts. “She’s probably just finding a better vantage point. I’d better get inside before she finds a pair of binoculars or something.”

  So much for giving her a morning she’ll never forget.

  I walk her to her door under the guise of chivalry, but really, I’m greedy for a few more minutes with her. I can’t take her hand or draw her back into a kiss; it doesn’t seem appropriate now that we’re outside. Whatever magic that was in my car is gone. I stuff my hands in my coat pockets in an attempt to keep them occupied, and then before I know it, we’re at her door.

  In seconds, she’ll be gone and I’ll have an entire Sunday to myself. I’ll do what I always do: work out, go up to the office, prepare for tomorrow’s case. I’ll take work and inflate it to fill every crevice of my life so I don’t have to focus on all that’s lacking.

  “Here we are. Home sweet home.” Her tone is self-deprecating. She thinks I won’t like where she lives. True, it’s an older neighborhood and the houses are a little rundown, but it’s certainly nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, it seems like a nice place to call home. There’s a Christmas wreath hanging on her front door and a bright red welcome mat with HO HO HO printed across the center. I realize I haven’t put up a single decoration, but then why would I? It’s only mid-November.

  “I like it—the house, I mean.”

  She can’t look me in the eye, but she nods and rocks back on her heels. “Well thank you for the ride. I’d invite you inside, but…yeah…” She fidgets with her keys. “I’ll just see you tomorrow.”

  Then she turns to go inside.

  “Bailey—”

  She shakes her head hard, cutting me off. “Be careful what you say—Josie is probably hovering on the other side of the door.”

  “Oh, c’mon!” a voice says from inside. “Are you kidding me?”

  The door swings open and I’m suddenly staring at a miniature version of Bailey. They have the same freckles, the same shock of pale blonde hair, though her sister’s is piled in a bun on top of her head. She’s scowling at us, but it’s cute, like a baby tiger practicing its growl.

  She’s wearing mismatched pajamas and in her hand is an empty plastic cup. When she sees me staring at it, she jerks it behind her back.

  “I was just getting some water,” she explains, feigning innocence.

  Bailey groans and brushes past her to step inside. “No, you weren’t. You were trying to use that cup to hear us better.”

  Her sister acts like the very idea of her spying on us is outrageous. “I was NOT. I would never do something like that to my own flesh and blood.”

  “Uh huh, then why did I see your little face pressed against the window a second ago?” Bailey asks as she hangs her jacket on a hook by the door and tosses her purse on a nearby table.

  “I thought I heard the ice cream truck coming.”

  Bailey bursts out laughing. “You are so full of it!”

  “Am not. And wait! Why am I the one under investigation? You two were just making out in broad daylight! I bet Ms. Murphy saw it too!”

  They continue volleying back and forth, completely unaware that I’m still standing on the doormat. I’m enthralled by their conversation and the warmth of their house. There are Christmas decorations everywhere, tinsel and a string of paper snowflakes spanning from one side of the living room to the other. I can barely see a small pine tree, it’s so covered with ornaments and candy canes.

  I step to the side to get a better view and Josie’s attention snaps back to me.

  “Wait! You’re not the guy who picked Bailey up last night.”

  I smile. “No. That was Cooper, my brother.”

  “But…” She shakes her head. “No, that can’t be right, because I recognize you…” She tilts her head to the side, studying me intently before she gasps and her eyes widen with recognition. “You’re Dr. Russell! The hot doctor!”

  Bailey leaps forward and grabs the edge of the front door. “Ooookay then. Well, Dr. Russell has to go now. Josie, move your foot. I’m trying to close to door. No, no, he has to leave, stop bl”—she shoves her sister out of the way—“ocking it!”

  With an oomph, Bailey regains control and pushes the door closed all but one last inch. One of her bright brown eyes stares up at me from inside. I can only see a sliver of her mouth—the mouth that was just pressed against mine minutes ago.

  “Well, thanks again,” she says, all fake smiles and pretend geniality. “I’ll, um—”

  “BAILEY YOU WERE MAKING OUT WITH THE HOT DOCTOR!” Josie shouts behind her.

  Bailey’s eye goes wide and her cheek burns bright red. “Hookay then, ignore her. See you at work! Goodbye now!”

  Then the door slams and Bailey yells at her sister to stop shouting and I’m left outside in the cold with a big-ass smile on my face.

  My last thought before I force myself to turn back to the street is that I wish I could spend the rest of the day with them. It would be the most entertaining Sunday I’ve had in a while.

  Chapter 18

  BAILEY

  To say this weekend was a rollercoaster of emotion is like saying the sun is kind of hot. On Friday, I spilled instruments, delayed surgery, and cried at work. Matt drove me home and told me to grow up. I was 99% sure I was going to quit. On Saturday, I unknowingly attended a wedding with his brother but ended up going home with him and sleeping in his bed. On Sunday, I made out with him hardcore. I was slobbering all over him, making a real fool of myself. My hands were in his hair. My vocal cords were producing the most ridiculous, slutty moans. He probably thought I’d never been kissed before. Now it’s Monday and I’m expected to just walk into the OR like Hey everyone! Everything is hunky dory!

  EXCEPT EVERYTHING IS NOT HUNKY DORY.

  Can’t a girl have a minute to process these developments? My body has run through fight or flight so many times it’s not quite sure what we’re doing. Staying? Crying? Declaring our love? Fending off his advances? ARE WE IN LOVE OR WAR?

  When I press my finger to my pulse, my brain comes back with an error message: too fast to compute.

  Even though Matt isn’t technically my boss (the board of NEMC is), he is my superior and a surgeon and slightly intimidating. Getting involved with him sounds like a recipe for disaster. I’ve watched enough Grey’s Anatomy to know I have to handle this situation delicately. I won’t let this turn me into a nervous wreck. There can be no whispers in the halls or steamy sex eyes over the operating table. I will not be gossiped about. If
this gets out (and it will) then it’s going to be on my terms.

  Which is why I’m sitting outside the HR office on Monday morning. It’s ungodly early. The office is dark, but that’s okay; I’ll be the first person Linda sees when she arrives. She’s the sole human resources officer for the entire hospital. I rarely see her around the building, and when I do, she’s usually flustered, walking at a brisk pace and murmuring angrily under her breath. There’s often a stain on her shirt. I’ve only ever seen her hair look wild and unkempt. With the number of employees this place has, I think she has her hands full. They really ought to hire someone to assist her. I’ll be sure to tell her that when I see her, just so I’m on her good side.

  There’s movement to my right and I glance up to see her making her way down the hall. Her head is down, focused on her phone as she approaches.

  I jump to my feet and paste on a big, cheesy smile.

  “Linda! Hi, good morning.”

  She jumps out of her skin then glares up at me. “What? What is it?”

  Not exactly a warm welcome, but I don’t let that deter me. “Oh, well, I know it’s early, but I was hoping to get a few minutes of your time to talk about something?”

  I’ve never seen someone’s heart break before my eyes.

  “You’re serious? It’s Monday. The sun’s not even up.”

  Then she shakes her head and brushes past me to unlock her office door. She flips the light on and—wow. I thought Matt’s office was messy, but hers takes the cake. There are files and papers everywhere. Her desk is barely visible.

  She plops her purse and her coffee down onto a side table then continues over to a tall filing cabinet in the corner.

  “Who does the offense pertain to?”

  “Offense? No. Well, the situation is between Dr. Russell and myself.”

  “All right. What form do you need?” She tugs the top drawer open. “Sexual harassment? Hostile work environment?”

  “Form?”

  She pulls out a slew of them: orange, green, blue, red, purple—one for any and every offense under the sun. Oh god.