“Well, you said to come back if my sore hip didn’t get better. And, ah, it didn’t.” He massaged the back of his hip with one hand. “So here she is, ready to be examined again.”
“I told you it could take a fewweeksfor it to get better, Mr. Twomey. I suggested that you make an appointment to follow up since I won’t be doing walk-ins anymore.”
“Oh, gosh!” Gerry shook his head and grinned wider. “Silly me! All that just wentzoom! Right over my head.” He stretched his hand up, miming a plane flying while also arching his back seductively. “I think I was a little distracted last time we were together. And so were you.” He wagged a finger. “It’sGerry,remember?”
I gritted my teeth.
“But since I’m here now…” Gerry twisted so his right ass cheek was thrust in Mason’s direction. “Maybe you could check it?”
“Not today, Mr. Twomey,” Mason said firmly. “There’d be no point.”
Gerry took this denial as encouragement, because that was how Gerry seemed to work.
“Real quick?” Gerry breathed. “Please?”
“I…” Mason let out a deep breath, and it looked like he was waffling. Like he was going to let Gerry into his office. Likean idiot.“I think…”
“Hey!” I said, strolling out of the staircase, carrying a suitcase, totally casually. “Hi. I need an emergency consultation.”
Mason whirled to look at me in confusion. Gerry did, too.
“Fenn?” Mason said. He spied his bag. “Is that my—? What are you—?”
I grabbed his elbow, all but pushing him into his little office, then I turned to Gerry. “He’s not your type, Gerry. Leave him be.”
Gerry pouted. “You’d be surprised at how many peoplethinkthey’re not my type, then come a’knockin’ in the end. You did.” He grinned slyly. “In fact, my headboard still has the—”
“Goodbye, Gerry.” I squeezed into Mason’s office and closed the door behind me.
The room was half office, half exam room, with a large metal desk in one corner, a big, padded exam table in the center of the room, and an old, rattan sofa that had seen better days set against the opposite wall. It smelled like fresh paint and antiseptic. It also smelled like Mason Bloom and his fucking cologne.
Mason reached the exam table and whirled around, hands on his hips, eyes spitting green fire in my direction. “Whatthe hellwas that? How dare you!”
“Me?” I threw his suitcase onto the sofa. “You know what Gerry really wanted you to check out, right? Here’s a hint: it was several inchesawayfrom his hip.”
“No, Fenn, I had no idea!” Mason shot back. “For I am but an innocent doctor, untried in the ways of males—andfemales,for that matter—who mistake my office for the Happy Ending Massage Parlor. Christ, I’ve been propositioned by more people in the past week than in the past thirty years, and half of them were old enough to be my grandmother.” He rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest, and I noticed that he was wearing another perfectly pressed button-down under his white coat, along with another pair of creased khakis and a fresh pair of loafers. “If you have an issue with your…paramourmaking a pass at me, kindly take it up withhim, Mr. Reardon.”
I squinted in confusion. “My paramour. You meanGerry?”
“Who else? Apparently his headboard is still—” He frowned and waved a hand in the air. “—whatever the hell it is, from the last time youcame a’knocking. At least now I understand what happened the other night when you ran away.”
I had no fucking clue what he was talking about. “I didn’trun away. Jesus. And FYI, Gerry and I fucked around once.Once! And I don’t talk about it.”
Mason’s face flushed red, and he stalked around to the far side of his desk. “Of course! Because not talking about it means it didn’t happen, right? Poor Gerry. Did you freak out whenhegot an erection?”
“Poor Gerry, my ass!” My gaze narrowed. “And I didn’tfreak out, Loafers. I didn’t freak outorrun away.” If I kept saying it, maybe I’d start believing it. “I was pissed off, okay? And I saw no reason for us to continue our conversation. It was getting late. You were obviously tired.”
“Tired.” Mason made air quotes. “The sun was barely setting, and you scurried out the door like I was physically attacking you—”
“Scurried,”I scoffed. “No.”
“—and you’ve avoided me all week. And I still don’t understand why you weresoannoyed!” Mason threw both hands in the air, then wrapped them both around the back of his neck, looking sad and defeated. “Just… go away, Fenn.”
“Go away? Bullshit!” I countered, conveniently forgetting that I’d intended to do just that. “I just saved your ass—and I mean that literally—and that wasafterhauling your fucking suitcase all the way over here and up a flight of stairs! I’ve hauled caches ofrockthat weighed less, FYI. The least you could do isthankme.”
“Thanks,” Mason said coldly. “Should I tip you, too?”
There was literally nothing he could have said that would have pissed me off more, and the look in his eyes said he knew it, which had the perverse effect of deflating my temper completely.
