Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Desperately, huh?” My grin fires fast because he doesn’t own all the stock on smirks. I try to tame it by biting my lower lip. “Pick another card.” Turning over a penguin, he looks pleased and immediately reaches for the corner card. “You’re a little too good. I’m starting to think you rigged this game somehow.”
“It’s not the challenge you thought it’d be?”
“You’re definitely challenging.” His laughter is heartier as I lounge back in the chair, wrapping my arms behind my head for support.
“Touché.”
“It may be hard to believe, but I don’t want you to struggle, Lieutenant.”
“What do you want, Nurse?”
His sincerity sends a flush of heat through my abdomen. He licks his lips, and my nipples perk up again. No. No. No. No. I pop to my feet, needing a distraction from feelings that should most definitely not be growing fonder. “Music. We should turn on some music or the TV.” I grab the remote since it’s closest and click on the TV before tossing it in the chair and rushing toward the kitchen. “And a snack.” I only glance back out of curiosity and catch his eyes wide and latched onto me. “I’m starving. You?” I gulp, opening the fridge door and bending down to escape the connection that followed me in here.
“I could eat.”
Why does that sound more like an invitation than an answer to my question? God, I’m reading too much into everything now. I roll my eyes while fanning the cold air across my face. Warmth still kisses my cheeks, so I stand and pluck the front of my shirt to cool down. Dipping my fingers into the opening at the top of my shirt, they slide against the slick, heated skin. I grab a can of beer and roll it over my chest and up my neck, closing my eyes and tilting my head back for full exposure, hoping to calm my racing heart as well.
“Help yourself if you want one.”
The can tumbles from my hand, landing hard on the floor and rolling across the tile, only stopping when it runs into his foot. Bending down, he picks up the dented can that looks ready to explode and sets it in the sink.
My chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, and I drag my fingers over my lower lip, not bothering to look away from him or his incredible body this time. “I don’t want a beer.”
“What do you want?”
I bite down on my finger, and my mind goes right where I tried to keep it from traveling. The gutter, a.k.a. the bedroom, and the possibilities of what this man could do for me. To me. Gah! It’s been so long since someone looked at me like I matter, and even longer since I felt the satisfaction that only comes from a physical connection. I squeeze my eyes closed to erase those images. Snap out of it! He’s your patient, Autumn!
Turning away from him because that is the only logical way to control myself, I’m met with a block of cheese staring back at me. I grab it from the fridge and say, “Cheddar.”
“You want cheddar?”
Grabbing the mustard along with it, I nod. “Yes.” With a task to do, I can look at him again. Keep it professional by doing my job and feed the man. Easy peasy. “Do you have crackers?”
But the heat we exchanged through our earlier gazes still flickers in his irises, reflecting mine. His lips part, and he runs his tongue over the bottom one. Teasing. Tempting. A heavy breath fills his chest, and he says, “Pantry. Second shelf from the top.”
Look at him. So confident and cocky, sexy and . . . I bite my lip. Couldn’t he at least be an asshat like I thought he was? Nope. He’s nice, too. Dammit.
I move to the pantry, thankful for the excuse to turn away from this god among mere mortal men, trying to remember the lines I’d be crossing if I ever acted on any of my reactions to him. I can’t let that happen. Ludlow has it out for me at the hospital. He’d be happy to ruin my reputation by telling people I seduce my patients, ending my career here in the Cove. Dolly would be so proud to have me walk around with a scarlet letter, metaphorically speaking. Especially if it were earned from a bad-girl reputation. She still jokes about her younger, wilder days.
Grinning, I grab the crackers, finally calm enough to face him as if I have pulled myself together again. Fake it till you make it, baby. “Got it.”
“You sure do.” He turns but doesn’t walk away. Looking over his shoulder, he rubs the back of his neck, and says, “I’m having a hard time figuring out what happened between the two of us.”