Page 36 of Doctor’s Forbidden Match

Zac

I dump my bag beside the weathered wood cabin Emmett owns at Clearwater Lake, then snatch up my rod and our food, heading down toward the pier.

The worn planks creak under my shoes as I approach. The boys already have a chair set up for me.

Two days. No work, no bullshit. Just a rod, cold beer, and peace.

I drop into my seat with a satisfied exhale. My shoulders lighten for what feels like the first time in weeks as I get comfortable.

The three of us sit there, rods in the water, sweating bottles of beer in hand. I look out across the lake; the water smooth, barely a ripple disturbing the surface. The air still has that fresh spring scent, and the sounds of nature wash over me.

“How’s it going at the shop?” Emmett asks Jameson.

I remain quiet, my eyes fixed on the spot where my line disappears into the water, but I reach for the hot fries on the table between us. I toss a handful into my mouth, the salt and grease hitting exactly right.

“Busy as ever.” Jameson shifts in his chair, making it squeak. “I shouldn’t really be leaving the guys, but I needed this before I blow a fuse.”

Emmett chuckles, the sound rumbling from his chest. “Yeah, it’s been busy at the bank too.”

Jameson cuts him a look, one eyebrow raised. “You’d say that even if it wasn’t. You like to pretend you’re important.”

“Banker wanker,” I mumble under my breath with a smirk, throwing back more fries.

Emmett’s head whips toward me. “What’d you say? Didn’t quite catch that.”

“You need to get your hearing checked, old man.” Jameson taps his ear with one finger, grinning.

Emmett rolls his eyes, the expression exaggerated as he stuffs his mouth with battered fish, flakes of golden crust falling onto his shirt. “You’re jealous,” he says around the mouthful. “You hate your job.”

Shaking my head, I take a pull from my beer. “I don’t hate my job. I hate my boss. Peltz is breathing down my neck about everything.”

Jameson leans forward, his chair groaning. “Still dealing with that probation shit?”

“Yeah. One more mistake, and I’m done. He’s made that crystal clear.” I grimace, thinking about how he manipulated me into taking Hannah’s case. “The guy’s got it out for me.”

The boys exchange looks.

“He’s a control freak,” Emmett says as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Always has been. You just gotta keep your head down and wait it out.”

“Easier said than done.” Frustration creeps back into my shoulders, and I drag a hand through my hair. “I can’t afford to give him ammunition.”

Jameson settles back in his chair, studying me. “You seem off lately, man. More stressed than usual. What’s really going on?”

“Nothing. Just work.”

But it’s a lie. The vision of her in the exam room with her blonde hair and blue eyes that looked at me like I was a person who mattered. The way her skin felt under my fingers when I was examining her ankle, and how I had to force myself to maintain professional distance.

“You need to get out of your head more,” Emmett says, pulling me back. “You’ve been distracted.”

“I’m fine.”

But I’m not. And it has nothing to do with Peltz.

I take a long pull of beer, lifting the bottle back and draining half of it, trying to drown out the memory before it takes over.

“What about you two?” I redirect. “Jameson? You’re awfully quiet over there.”

A whisper of a grin tugs at the corner of his mouth, and he ducks his head slightly. “Well…”