Brady’s chest.
Sherry hits the ground with a loud bark.
And I’m stunned, staring up into Brady’s mesmerizing blue eyes, the concern in them unmistakable.
Oh.
Oh shit.
He smells good, too, all subtle cologne that doesn’t blow my nose off. Fresh sea breeze and citrus and something more primal underneath.
Not deodorant, not laundry powder, butman.
Something in my belly flips over.
Not the reaction I need.
His face is so serious, but the light in his eyes shifts. There’s no unseeing the heat flare.
Oh no, no, no.
Absolutely not.
I am so not going to let this cheesy meet-cute thing happen to me.
And Trish is standing up, forming an audience with a couple grinning clients, watching me defying gravity in this handsome stranger’s arms.
I snap back into my senses and struggle to my feet, taking a large step back to give us both some much-needed breathing room.
“I have to get towork,” I snap, putting the box on the reception desk and brushing myself off. Trish can deal with it later. I start walking.
“You’re welcome!” he shouts after me.
I don’t dare look back.
I don’t need to see how the heat in his eyes dies.
My ears are still ringing as I stop moving, burning like they’re a hundred degrees. Sherry’s owner, a stocky man in his fifties, bursts through the door, bellowing, “Oh God! I’msosorry! She just got away from me.”
“That’s all right.” I keep my back turned on Brady, pointedly ignoring him. “Let’s go get her settled in, shall we?”
After the dramatic near-face-planting incident, I thought this day couldn’t get worse.
I thought wrong.
It’s just after close. I’m finishing up my shift and closing down the clinic when I hear a voice that walks needles up my back.
Harry Jay?
It can’t be.
It’s been years since I last saw him, since he smashed my heart with a sledgehammer. But I’d recognize that smarmy, radio-perfect voice anywhere. And somehow he’s here, standing in the lobby, announcing to Trish that he’s here for a meeting with Dr. Ezzie.
I do the only sane thing a girl in my position can—I dive into the cleaning closet.
Not my finest moment, I’ll admit. But there’s no way I want to risk Harry getting a good look at me.
He doesn’t know I work here, and ideally, we’ll keep it that way.
