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)
“No.”
“Take a deep breath for me.” He does, and I ask, “Any pain? Ribs, internally, shoulder, back?”
He exhales like he’s already bored. He’s not my worst patient, but he’s not the best either. Who can blame him? Nobody likes to be poked and prodded. “No.”
The cotton of his shirt is soft over the rough texture of the bandage. The fraying edges catch on my fingers when I run over them. A surge of guilt rushes through me. I should have been paying attention, when I was instead caught up in my own good time today.
The muscles twitch under my touch, the urge to soothe him so strong that I have to remember my job. But being this close, I can’t stop myself from whispering, “I’m sorry.”
I’m met with his striking face—eyes that give me peace, lips that are full, and that rugged jaw of his that would make other men envious—when he turns to look at me. “For what?”
“I was so caught up in the moment.” And still floating on cloud nine from that kiss on the head when it was my responsibility to take care of him. I clear my throat when it starts to clog with remorse, and say, “I should have never let you move that heavy glass cabinet, much less alone. Did that cause more pain in your shoulder?” He’s too quiet, silently giving me the answer. I lean in to catch his eyes. “I need you to tell me the truth, Brandon. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”
“There’s some pain.”
“On a scale from one to ten. One being the most manageable.”
“A twelve or thirteen.”
Remorse riddles my stomach and makes my chest ache for him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I grab the prescription and pop the cap off. Handing him two, I say, “Take these.”
He takes them without argument, dropping his head back and chasing them with water. Setting the glass on the coffee table, he shrugs. “I didn’t tell you because we were having a good day. Why ruin it?”
“You’re not ruining anything. I want you to get better and come back stronger, but we have to work as a team.” I shift to the coffee table, our knees tangling as I reach to caress his cheek. The spikey scruff doesn’t bother me, and the clearing in his brown eyes gives me empathy I don’t deserve. “I care about you.”
Cupping my face, he holds me until I’m staring him square in the eyes. I don’t dare blink in fear I’ll miss something important. “You are not responsible for me, Autumn. I—”
“I am. That’s literally why I’m here.”
“Be honest with me. That’s not why you’re here. Not the only reason.” I hold his every word like gospel as my gaze searches his eyes. My breathing deepens, an urge I shouldn’t be feeling for him at this moment pulses between my legs, and my throat dries thinking about the possibility of what’s to come. He leans forward, his lips coming so close to mine but teasing to a stop just shy of kissing them. “You’re here because you’re feeling what I am.”
“What are we feeling?” My voice is weak, my body craving his touch as much as my lips want that kiss.
Angling his head, he moves closer to run the bridge of his nose along my cheekbone, rewiring my brain chemistry as he presses his lips to my ear. “An undeniable connection that we can dance around all day long, but you know where this is going and want it as much as I do.” The tip of his tongue slides along the shell of my ear, sending delicious, needy shivers up my spine. When he stops, I hold an anticipatory breath. “Do you know how badly I want to kiss you, Nurse?”
The words are direct, swarming my senses, his tone sultry, urging a response. Turning my mouth to his ear, I bite gently on the lobe, stealing seconds to learn how to breathe again. “How bad?”
I lean back to watch his reaction play out in those dreamy eyes of his. I swear time stills just to torture me. And then the bob of his Adam’s apple catches my attention before he runs his hand along the column of my neck and into my hair. Taking hold of me, he stares into my eyes with intentions I’ve never borne witness to before.
He’s not wrong. I want to kiss him, but he has me yearning for so much more. Arching my back, I’m desperate to rub against him, to resituate myself on his lap and seek the pleasure he has me craving. “Brandon—”
Lightning strikes, our lips colliding together in a surge of inevitable passion. He holds me, kissing me deeper, our mouths opening and our tongues meeting for the first time. Our breaths shorten, and we pull back. He cups my cheek and asks, “Everything alright?”