And how can I make it so it never stops?
“Got you,” he says quietly, and like a fool, I nod.
“Thanks.”
He inhales deeply and then heads out the door toward the clinic. Once we enter, Tenille is fussing over me, asking tons of questions, while Dr. Aldridge’s dog barks and yips behind us. My mom is speaking for me, and I’m thankful for that because all I want to do is enjoy being in this man’s arms. I’m so touch-starved that I have to soak this up in case it never happens again.
And really, I’d rather not get knocked out by a stone cock and need stitches ever again.
But staring at Dr. Do-My-Body-Good?
Yeah, I want to do that.
four
. . .
Dermot
Fucking hell,Maggie is gorgeous.
And she smells so damn good.
But above all, she feels so damn good in my arms.
Even with the commotion of her mom answering questions, Tenille asking if Maggie is okay, and Kip barking like a dog on a mission to save someone from drowning in a well, I can’t stop looking at her. Don’t get me wrong; I knew this woman was pretty. Anyone could see that, with her sweet smile and pretty bluish-green eyes, but having her in my arms, feeling her curves and the heat of her skin… Yeah, I wasn’t prepared in the least.
Start living again. Put yourself out there.
I hear my sister’s words in my head, but I promptly ignore them, carrying Maggie into the first exam room while Kip jumps like she’s a Frisbee and he needs to catch her. Crazy-ass dog.
Before I lay her down, I give him a look. “Sit,” I command, and I feel Maggie go tense in my arms. I look at her and grimace. “Sorry, he’s a wild man.”
Her lips curve. “No, totally fine. Just wasn’t expecting you to be so…”
I raise a brow. “So…?”
“Authoritative,” she says, very slowly and seductively. Or am I making that up because I know what lives in this woman’s head? I have read everything she has written. She has a talent for going from sweet to totally off-the-charts deranged in a matter of pages. She takes pride in the fact that she uses the word cock as a sentence enhancer, and all I really want to know is if what she writes is what she likes.
Because I volunteer as tribute to explore and be at the mercy of whatever this woman wants.
My face is on fire as I swallow thickly and set her down. “I can be.”
“Good to know,” she mutters, but I hear it and I promptly ignore that little comment. Honestly, this could all be head-injury induced. Once she’s healed, she might not look my way at all. Lord knows she hasn’t made any move on me, just a wave here and a smile there. Not that I’ve given her an opening. I run the other way every time I see her.
Because I haven’t been living.
Because finding out what I want to know about her will only feed my obsession. What if she’s freaked out by the fact that I’ve read her books? What if she loves it but doesn’t fall for me like I know I will for her?
There is a reason I read romance—I grew up without love from my parents, both doctors and both too busy for me. So busy, my mom left when I was seven, and then my dad met Tessa’s mom. She sure as hell didn’t like me, and I wasn’t getting any attention from my dad. I have a bad habit of falling hard and not expressing that because I don’t know how. It’s why I moved to where my sister is, so I can have a relationship with her. Toshow her I’ve grown. But maybe I haven’t, since I won’t put myself out there.
Since I chose work over my sister.
I chose the inside of a book over the outside world.
Why am I the way I am? I have spent years working on myself, but here I am, questioning everything because a concussed hot chick is flirting with me.
Mentally kicking myself in the ass, I make sure she’s comfortable and then turn to wash my hands. Tenille comes in to set up the sutures station, and Mrs. Welch tells her when Maggie’s last tetanus shot was, not that I’m listening. I’m too far into my own head.
