Blaze: A Small Town, Nerdy Girl, Opposites Attract, Protector Romance (Ghost Ops Book 1)

Chapter 15

“I needto see Doc Sutton, not you.”

Emma didn’t let her smile falter as she faced the steel-haired woman sitting in the waiting room. If this was the worst she had to deal with these days, she could handle it. It was annoying, but there were far worse things.

Like falling asleep on a man you barely know?

Heat flared in her cheeks. Dammit, she didn’t have time for this.

“I’m a doctor, Mrs. Croft. I’m helping my dad with patients.”

Margaret Croft gave her the once over with skepticism.

“That’s not possible, Emma Grace Sutton. I’ve known you since you were knee high to a grasshopper. You might’ve gone off to that fancy medical school and passed all the exams, but your daddy is my doctor, and he’s who I want to see.”

Emma prayed for strength. “Mrs. Croft, my father is retiring in a few months, which he’s announced to all his patients, and I’ve come home to take over the practice. I assure you I’m qualified to examine you and prescribe medicine, should it be necessary.”

Mrs. Croft looked like she’d sucked a lemon. “I didn’t think he was serious. He knows how much we need him in this town.” Her face screwed tighter. “Oh no, this won’t do. It won’t do at all. I’ll have to go to Huntsville if he leaves, and I really don’t want to do that.”

Emma didn’t have it in her to fight. It’d been like this since she’d started work a few days ago. People who’d been seeing her dad their entire lives didn’t trust a young woman who, according to them, lacked life experience.

Never mind that she was thirty-four years old and had been an ER doctor in a trauma center. None of that mattered to the good citizens of Sutton’s Creek because they’d known her when she was still playing with dolls and waving shepherd’s crooks.

Yet another reason she’d never wanted to take over the practice. She’d known this would happen.

“You can go to Huntsville when he’s gone if you like. As for today’s issue, my dad’s schedule is booked at the moment. You can reschedule and ask for him specifically, but it’ll be at least two weeks. Maybe three. Or you can come back to the exam room, and I’ll have a look.”

Mrs. Croft stood with a great huff. She shouldered her massive handbag—it looked like she could store a boat in there—and stared down her nose at Emma.

“Fine, Emma Grace, I’ll let you examine me. But I’m going to be watching you, I promise.”

Did she think Emma was going to dive into that handbag and make off with her vault of priceless jewels or something?

“That’s fine, Mrs. Croft. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Emma stood back and allowed the woman to sail past her into the hallway where the exam rooms were. After a few questions and a brief examination, Mrs. Croft left clutching a prescription for an antibiotic ointment for her skin rash and looking like she’d smelled dog poop. She didn’t bother to say thank you, either.

Emma closed her eyes and rubbed them. She needed patience, and she didn’t have a hell of a lot of it today. Her life had turned upside down and it wasn’t finished yet if yesterday was anything to go by.

Her phone dinged in her pocket. Probably Rory asking if she was coming by the Dawg for dinner. Which she totally was because the idea of facing Blaze Connolly after last night made her stomach twist and her skin flame.

She pulled her phone out, her heart flipping at the message.

Blaze: I called your dad about the cameras. He agreed. They’re going up this afternoon. Locks being changed, too. I convinced him we needed something better.

Relief flowed through her. Not to mention more heat. Seriously?

Emma: Thank you.

Blaze: You’re welcome.

Emma stared at her screen. Three dots appeared and disappeared. Just when she was ready to put the phone away, his message came across.

Blaze: In case you were wondering, I didn’t mind last night. I liked it.

Her face really was on fire. Which was ridiculous. She was a doctor. She understood vasodilator effects, so why couldn’t she get better control of hers? Not that she could control blushing, because nobody could, but why was she letting her emotions get that far in the first place?

She should have a lock on her reaction to Blaze Connolly. She wasn’t a teenager anymore. He was a gorgeous man, but she was a grown woman. As if that mattered a bit to her fluttering pulse.

Emma: Let us never speak of this again. I’m embarrassed enough already.

Blaze: If that’s what you want. When are you coming for self-defense lessons?

Emma swallowed. I’m not sure. It’s very busy here.

Blaze: Think you need to prioritize this, babe.

Emma stared at the casual babe tossed at the end of the sentence. She really should tell him not to call her babe. She’d gone to medical school, fought the misogyny there, and eventually graduated in the top five percent of her class. She’d worked hard to dispel erroneous beliefs about her skills in Chicago, almost always from older male colleagues, and she’d never stopped fighting for her place at the table.

She’d earned it. And then she’d thrown it all away because she’d had the misfortune to get involved with a charming psychopath. So telling Blaze Connolly not to call her babe really should be at the top of her list of ground rules for dealing with him.

But a part of her liked the way it felt coming from him. She shouldn’t—really, really shouldn’t—but it was somehow wrapped up in that safe feeling she got around him. It made her feel protected, which was crazy because it was just a word.

A door closed in the rear of the practice. Her dad strolled in, looking fresh from his early morning golf game, smiling wide when he saw her. Emma’s heart filled with love and gratitude. She hadn’t appreciated her dad’s choice to take care of the citizens of Sutton’s Creek nearly enough when she was growing up.

“There’s my girl. How’s it going, honey?”

Emma shrugged. “You know. Mrs. Croft wasn’t pleased. Neither were the other three patients I saw today, but none of them called me by my given name and insisted I somehow didn’t learn anything in medical school. That honor goes to Mrs. C.”

Her dad frowned. “Sorry, honey.”

“She’ll come around, or she’ll drive all the way to Huntsville every time her arm itches. How was your game?”

“Had a good time with the guys. Thanks for covering for me today.”

Emma stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “I’m glad I could help. Why are you here anyway? Thought you were having lunch with Mama.”

“I am. Just stopped to see how you were doing.”

“I think I’ve got a handle on it, Dad.” Like most Southern girls, she usually called her father Daddy. Didn’t matter how old she got, he was her daddy. When she was annoyed, it was Dad.

He raised both hands. “Okay, message received.” He hesitated a moment. “Blaze Connolly called.”

Her belly fluttered. “Oh yeah?”

“Mm-hm. Said he wanted to put up some security cameras and change the locks on both your apartments. Any reason why?”

Emma blinked. “I think he’s just security conscious. That’s his business, right? And you have to admit cameras on the building aren’t a bad idea. Sturdier locks as well. After what happened at the Gas-n-Go, I’m all for it.”

He nodded. “That’s basically what he said. I told him to give me a bill, but he refused. Said it was on him because he’d suggested it.”

“I’m sure those guys get their equipment at cost, Daddy.”

“Sure, but it’s not free.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

The second she said it, she wished she could call it back. Her dad looked at her with a raised eyebrow and a half grin. He was so going to tell her mother, who was going to call her up and grill her for details about how she’d gotten on such a friendly footing with Blaze.

“It’s nothing,” she said. “He’s my neighbor. I spoke to him yesterday in the hall, and he mentioned the security cameras and locks to me. I said he should call you. That’s it.”

Because the rest was her business alone.

“All right, honey.”

Her phone buzzed again.

Blaze: You avoiding me?

“Have to answer this,” she said, holding up her phone. She didn’t wait for a reply as she retreated to the office space she’d carved out in the stock room for the time being. She’d take over her dad’s office when he retired, so no need to make another office even though he’d told her she should.

She sat at her desk and frowned as she stared at the screen. Then she typed, No, not avoiding you. I have a job, you know. I was busy.

Blaze: Which is why you need to make time for self-defense class. Got one starting Monday night at six. I’ll save a spot for you.

Emma frowned hard. Then she sighed and tossed her phone on the desk. She couldn’t avoid Blaze forever. Last night had been supremely embarrassing but she could legit blame it on the alcohol.

The trick was not to do it again. No matter how tempting his broad chest and solid muscles were.

Her phone buzzed. She snatched it up to see what he wanted now.

It wasn’t Blaze, though. The sender was unknown. The message was simple.

I’m watching.