The Doctor’s Simple Life (Love Heals All Wounds #3)

9. Reece

CHAPTER 9

REECE

W hen I wake up the next day, I feel the most well-rested that I’ve felt in a hell of a long time. I shouldn’t, because I got to bed late and woke up early. But something about last night has put me in a great mood today.

I get up and shower, and the whole time I’m in there, all I can think about is Sienna and her grandmother. Maybe one of my weirdest shower thoughts, but I keep mulling over the conversation, the closeness. The love in that room between them.

I haven’t felt something like that in a long time.

It was something between job satisfaction and a physical fizzle of attraction, which is stupid, really. Not the job thing — that has rewired me — but the attraction. I’m not actually attracted to Sienna. Sure, she’s hot, but she doesn’t strike me as the kind of girl who succumbs to being chatted up very easily.

And though I do like a challenge, I’m also not in the business of making my life hard for myself. Sleeping with your boss, who treats you with nothing but contempt, is definitely not a way to make your life easy. Not that she is strictly my boss, exactly, but she’s definitely someone I don’t want to be on the wrong side of, or any more on the wrong side of than I already am.

It’s not worth losing sleep over.

I have a slow, languid breakfast, treating myself to a third freezer waffle and drowning it in syrup and butter. I’m awake so early that I don’t have to get going for ages yet, so I’m determined to make the most of it.

Finally, I roll into the office, and Sienna looks up at me. I glance at the clock and wince as I realize I’m a little late, but it’s not enough to stop me from grinning as I sit down at my desk.

“You’re in a good mood,” Sienna comments, not smiling at me. I blink at her, floored. What do I say now?

Last night, I thought we were sort of getting somewhere with our relationship, such as it is, but this morning, she’s gone right back to being the cold, standoffish Sienna I’ve really got to know and love over this last week. I’m sure she wouldn’t appreciate me using the word love anywhere near her. But it’s the one that comes to mind.

“How are you doing today?” I ask, not letting my cheery disposition drop. I’ll be damned if I let her ruin it.

“Fine,” she says.

“And your grandmother?”

“Better. She was right back to her usual self this morning.”

“I’m happy to hear it.”

Sienna hums at me and turns her attention back to her stack of paperwork. The work that’s actually on paper. I’m never going to get used to that.

I should probably let it drop, but my good mood is making me bold. “I still hate this radio station,” I say after a few beats of silence have gone past.

That does make her smile, and it warms my heart to see it. She’s lovely when she smiles. It brightens up her entire face. It draws attention to her lovely green eyes and her pink lips. Not that I’m thinking about her lips, of course.

There’s no reason for me to have any interest in those.

This is how most of the rest of our day goes: silent, mostly, but then I get bored of the silence, so I make some stupid comments, the same kind of argumentative quips I’ve been making all week. Instead of rolling her eyes and sighing loudly at me like she has been, Sienna smiles.

It gives me hope that last night actually did change us. If nothing else, maybe now we can be friends.

At the very least, maybe we can not hate each other.

We head around the wards, and for the first time since I’ve been here, I’m not dreading it. It’s like I’m seeing it all differently today. The old people aren’t here to be an annoyance to us; we’re here to help them. And even if most of them don’t really need any real help, I’m starting to see that that’s not the point.

The help they need isn’t medical. It’s social.

It’s kind of sad, really, but Sienna is so kind to them that I can understand why they want to keep coming back to hang out with her. To them, she’s gentle and caring and warm, miles away from how she treats me in the office.

How she treated me. Today, it’s different.

As we head down a corridor, I say, “What’s the chance that any of these ancient crones have anything wrong with them today?” just to wind her up.

Yesterday, she would have wheeled around and snapped at me to tell me to shut up, that we should respect our elders and give them the care they need. She would have jumped to their defense and had no second thoughts about tearing me down.

Today, she still hesitates, but there’s a challenging glint in her eye, one that’s not annoyed as much as defiant. “There’s something wrong with everyone.”

“Ouch,” I say at the pointed comment. “But have you considered that I’m perfect?”

“You definitely have,” she says cuttingly.

I press the back of my hand to my forehead in a dramatic gesture. “You’ve got it out for me today, huh?”

“Just today?” She raises both eyebrows, but she grins at the same time.

I grin back, and we continue around the ward. There are a couple of repeat customers, a couple of people with real problems, and one teenager who’s recovering from a torn ACL. She pouts up at us as we come to her, and I put on my most comforting expression.

It does nothing.

“Hey, there.” I glance down at her chart. “Jessie, how are you doing today?”

“How do you think?” She frowns.

“Jessie is making a great recovery, aren’t you, hon?” says Sienna, reaching down to her chart so she can hand it to me.

I reach out for the clipboard, but her hand slips and my palm brushes over her knuckles. But instead of wanting to flinch away, I want to get closer.

Suddenly, it bursts to life in my mind, the vision of her body against mine, of our hands twined together. Something that had never seemed reasonable before now seems so obvious, like it’s just a heartbeat away from happening rather than a wild figment of my imagination.

Maybe it still is. I don’t want to jump to any conclusions. Not yet.

But to test my theory, when I return Jessie’s chart to its holder, I make sure to accidentally lean in too close to Sienna, bump my shoulder against her arm and watch what she does.

It’s not entirely a surprise when she doesn’t flinch at all.