Page 21 of Grumpy Doctor

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And besides, I liked the way she blushed. She was pretty when she was embarrassed. Or, hell, she was pretty all the time.

“Don’t be a dick. You know what I’m saying.”

“I know, and our deal stands. I figured I should mention that the administration’s paying close attention to us though.”

“Does this mean I can stop doing your laundry?”

“Absolutely not.” I turned toward her, ready to make some joke—and found her face inches away from mine.

It was a surprise, though it shouldn’t have been. I knew we were on a level field, but seeing her lips up close, her pretty cheeks, her eyes and nose, I had a strange falling sensation, and remembered that moment in the elevator where I nearly did something very stupid.

I had that same urge again, almost impossible to deny.

She didn’t move away. She could have, even should have. Instead, she leaned closer, head tilted, mouth open. Her lips were gorgeous and red, and I pictured biting the lower one gently, making her gasp in surprise and pain and joy, before fisting her hair and pulling her body against mine—

I met her eyes. “I know what you’re thinking,” I said, and realized I was nearly whispering, though the place was empty. The only other sound was the deep hum of a dryer, and the smell of fabric softener permeated the air. “But seducing me isn’t going to make your life easier.”

“No, I’m sure it would only make it harder.”

“Very hard.” I moved closer. “It would complicate things.”

“I know that.”

“So why are you still here?”

She said nothing. So I kissed her.

I held that kiss for a long moment, tasting her lips, and some voice in the back of my mind screamed at me to stop, that I was fucking up big time, that I was making a stupid, emotional decision, one based in desire and physical need, and this would only make my life so much harder—but fuck that voice.

I wanted her and that was all that mattered.

The bell for the door broke us apart. I looked away from her, and she chewed her lip, staring down at her hands. An old woman walked in, gave us an annoyed glance, then began to shove her clothes into a washer.

I looked back at Lori and she stared down at her hands. I could tell she was conflicted, upset even, maybe mad at me, or mad at herself. There was a power imbalance, and maybe she wasn’t sure if she could turn me down—but no, the way she kissed me, the blush in her cheeks, I knew she wanted this. I saw it every time she looked at me.

“You still have to finish my laundry,” I said.

Her eyes flashed up at mine and the anger returned. I smiled and patted her thigh. I wanted that anger. It was one of her best qualities.

“You don’t know when to keep your mouth shut, do you?”

“Of course not. If I knew that, I’d probably own the hospital by now.”

That made her laugh, though it sounded bitter. I moved away from her before I was tempted to kiss her again. I knew that couldn’t keep happening, but now that I’d broken some unspoken rule between us and tasted her lips, I knew I’d want more, and more, and more, and I had to control myself.

There was too much at stake, and I couldn’t let this distract from the important things. We had our work, and we had to put on a good show for the admins and for the private detective. If any of them caught a whiff of this—

I didn’t want to imagine the shitstorm that would start.

She hopped down off the dryer a second before it buzzed and pulled the door open. I watched her shove my laundry into the bag, still warm and toasty.

“There,” she said. “You’re welcome.”

And without a word, she stormed off.

I watched her go, unable to help but smile.

“You should be nicer to your girlfriend,” the old woman said.

I glanced at her. “And you should mind your own business.”

She made a noise in the back of her throat and walked off, shaking her head.

I carried the bag out of the laundromat and headed toward the hospital.

9

Lori

I thought about that kiss day and night for the next week.

We didn’t talk about it. In fact, he seemed like he wanted to stay away from me as much as possible, and I didn’t put up much of a fight. He did his procedures and I stood in during most of them, and he let me close up a few more times, tweaking my technique, offering simple and concise suggestions. I felt like I learned more in those operations than I did my entire time in medical school, just from watching him, and hearing him explain his methods.

But the kiss still lingered between us.


Tags: B.B. Hamel Romance