“Barry, this is Ronan Grisham. He’s an old friend of the family,” Seth said.
I was pleased to see the man made no attempt to shake my hand. In fact, he actually moved back a couple of steps as I came around the couch and approached both of them. I barely hid my smile at that.
“Ronan, this is Dr. Barry Fields,” Seth murmured. “He’s been helping me work through some things,” was all he offered in way of an explanation.
Barry laughed and reached out to pat Seth’s arm. “Now, now, Seth. You know we’ve come to mean much more to each other than just doctor and patient,” he said jovially.
Seth shifted uncomfortably at either the words or the intimate contact but he made no move to extricate himself from the other man’s lingering contact. Since I couldn’t rip the fucker’s arm off his body, I settled for stepping forward until Barry was forced to move back enough that he couldn’t maintain his hold on Seth.
“Time for you to go, Barry,” I said coolly.
“Well, uh…I think it would be better if I stayed,” Barry stammered. “Even you should be able to see that Seth needs a doctor,” he added arrogantly.
“He has one,” I interjected. “A real one.”
“Ronan…” Seth warned but I ignored him.
Barry’s mouth was opening and closing like some kind of fish gasping for breath. “I don’t know who you think you are, Mr. Grisham, but Seth is my patient-”
“You’re right, Barry,” I said calmly as I put my gun into one of the double shoulder holsters under my jacket. “You don’t know who I am.” I fisted my hand in his expensive sweater and shoved him back against the wall. “And believe me, you want to make sure it stays that way. Now get the fuck out!”
I held him there for several seconds as he squirmed to break free of my hold and when I finally did release him, he gave Seth a quick glance as he straightened his sweater. “Seth, I’ll call you later to see how you’re feeling.” The man straightened as best he could and then nodded at Seth and slowly left the room as if leaving was his choice.
It wasn’t until I heard the front door slam closed that I turned my attention to Seth. I was surprised when he pushed past me and said, “It’s your turn, Ronan. Get the fuck out.”
Chapter 2
Seth
I wasn’t expectingRonan to put his hands on me. And I definitely wasn’t expecting the rush of the lust that went through me when he shoved me hard against the wall and held me there with his body. My anger was supposed to have made me immune to the need I’d had for him from the time I was old enough to realize that’s what the emotions churning through me were, but it hadn’t. My fury, my hurt – all they did was ratchet up the intensity of what I was feeling.
I should have done a lot of things as he held me there.
Pushed him away.
Cursed him.
Admitted that he’d destroyed me when he’d walked out on me three years earlier.
But all I could do was stand there and relish the feel of his strong fingers wrapped around my wrists, pinning my hands to the wall. I welcomed the heat that wafted off his big body and warmed me in a way that nothing else could. I drank down the sound of every one of his rough breaths, the only proof that he wasn’t completely unaffected by the contact, because his hard eyes gave nothing away. And when I dropped my eyes to his lips, lips I knewfrom experience were softer than they looked, I felt the slightest shudder roll through his body.
I didn’t know how long he held me there for and, in truth, I didn’t care. I’d wanted for so long for him to see me as something other than his boyfriend’s pesky, desperate little brother, that I needed to get as much out of this one moment where he was seeing me as a man that I could, because I suspected it would have to sustain me for a very long time.
I’d met Ronan for the first time when I was thirteen and my brother, Trace, had brought a then 28-year-old Ronan home to meet our parents after they’d met at the military hospital where Ronan was completing his residency. Even at my young age, I’d been fascinated by Ronan. He’d had a certain cool confidence to him that had drawn me in, but it was the way he’d laughed and joked with me that had had my hero worship turning into something more within a couple of visits. I’d fought to keep the fact that I was falling for my own brother’s boyfriend a secret, but Trace had easily picked up on it and hadn’t wasted time in teasing me every chance he got with jokes about not trying to steal his boyfriend out from underneath him. And he’d never failed to make sure Ronan was around when he’d made the comments. I’d known that my brother’s ribbing was meant to be harmless fun, but my feelings had run so deep that every joke he’d made had caused pinpricks in my soul, because I’d known I’d never have what he had. Because despite my mother’s assurances to the contrary, I’d known even then that I’d only ever want Ronan and any man who might come my way in the future would always pale in comparison.
Maybe it would have been easier if Ronan had shared my brother’s penchant for making light of the way I felt. But he’d only fanned the flames of my burgeoning want by protecting me from my brother’s unintentional cruelty, and he’d never allowed the awkwardness to change the way he’d treated me. He’d always been kind, interested and encouraging. And he’d promised me that someday I’d find that lucky someone who would change my life the way Trace had changed his.
And then everythinghadchanged. In less than a year my parentswere gone, my brother was gone and the Ronan I’d fallen in love with was gone.
I managed to remain perfectly still as Ronan held me against the wall, afraid that any movement would break whatever reverie we’d both fallen into. I wanted so badly to lean forward and brush my lips over his, to once again taste the sweetness that was so unexpected and so intoxicating, but I’d learned my lesson the first time around. And as much as I wanted Ronan to leave, I couldn’t bear the humiliation of him choosing to walk away from me again instead of enduring my naïve, painfully inexperienced kiss.
Ronan finally pulled back and released his hold on me, but just one of my wrists. “You have a first aid kit somewhere?” he asked as he tugged me forward.
“My bathroom,” I said.
I followed him silently to the main part of the house and didn’t try to read too much into the fact that he still had a hold of my wrist. My dog, Bullet, came with us, but I didn’t miss how the animal stuck right next to Ronan’s side. Since the German Shepherd was my perpetual shadow, it should have bothered me more that he’d abandoned me for Ronan. But it didn’t. It was just a reminder of how easy it was for man and beast alike to gravitate to the big, quiet man.
Ronan led me to the bathroom and turned me so my back was against the counter. He glanced at me and I automatically said, “Bottom drawer” since I knew what he was looking for. He found the first aid kit and opened it and pulled out a couple of butterfly bandages before running a washcloth under water. His touch was surprisingly gentle for such a big, scary looking guy and I wondered how many of his patients were shocked by the contradiction. At 6’5, Ronan towered over most men and he had the bulk to back it up. He wasn’t bulging everywhere, but he had a rock hard body that even now rippled beneath his clothes. His stormy gray eyes were typically shrouded in mystery, but I’d seen them both joyful and haunted and everything in between.
