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

19. Reece

CHAPTER 19

REECE

I ’m in the coffee shop when I get a text from Mikey. It’s smug and conceited and stinks of a guy who likes to be right at all times. Someone who needs to be the best or else he will shrivel up and die. It’s classic Mikey.

He’s taunting me about life in a small town and how much I must be enjoying it — not. The sarcasm drips out of the phone and the smug grin is palpable, but he doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t know how much I’m enjoying it here.

In fairness, it is pretty unbelievable. I’m a city boy. I’m meant to hate this place.

“Here you are, Dr. Westbrook,” says the waitress as she brings over my coffee.

“Thank you, Macy,” I say with a grin. I flash her the old Dr. Westbrook flirty eyes, and she bites her lip and giggles nervously. She touches me gently on the shoulder, then drifts back off into the cafe. Good to know I’ve still got the touch, even if I’m taken in this town.

There’s only one girl round here for me. This level of monogamy I’m feeling is actually a little alarming.

I don’t think I’ve ever known a waitress’s name before in a cafe. They’ve definitely never known mine. In fact, most shops like this spell my name wrong when they write it on the drinks. Occasionally servers have recognized me, but Macy actually knows me a little. She came in for a blood draw a few weeks ago, and she was utterly charming.

And every time I’ve come in here since, we’ve chatted. And you know what? It actually feels good. It’s nice to feel known, or at least appreciated. I get why Sienna gets off on this.

I watch Macy go, then turn back to my phone. She has a nice ass, but my heart isn’t into the flirting because it’s still too busy thinking about Sienna. She’s all I’ve been able to think about all week.

It doesn’t help that we share an office and see each other so much at work. Even when I hated her, she still consumed my thoughts because she was the only person I ever spoke to.

Now, she’s come home with me almost every night this week, and we’ve made love with all the passion of teenagers.

I couldn’t hate her even if I tried.

I let myself imagine her face for a second, that gorgeous scrumple between her eyebrows when she’s about to come, the way her mouth drops open as climax approaches, the way her hips buck and rise.

And then I bring myself back to reality.

It’s not that I couldn’t imagine her like this all day, because I really, really could. Hell, it’s pretty much what I’ve been defaulting to lately. Sienna.

But I’m in public now. I have some dignity to keep. I have composure to maintain.

I have to take Sienna to bed again tonight or else I’m going to regret wasting time with her.

She’s gone from a rash I can’t get rid of to an itch I can’t ignore. She’s always in my mind and I don’t want to shake her out, and there’s no way I can tell Mikey. He would be cruel to her. He would mock her for being a country girl, and I wouldn’t want her to face that. I can protect her if I keep her secret.

I think for a second, and finally I type back: Actually, I am enjoying it. It’s better than spending all day with you morons.

That’s worse than I wanted it to sound. I edit it to take out the word “morons” and say “you guys” instead. I probably shouldn’t go about insulting my boss. That’s not usually the best practice for people who want to stay employed.

He texts back straight away. Haha, can’t wait to hear all the stories. Unless you really are a country boy now…

I’m not one hundred percent certain how to reply to that.

He’s clearly taunting me.

The right thing to do is text back immediately and dismiss the idea that such a dumb thing could be true. Me, a country boy? Ridiculous. If I want to keep any sort of social standing in Miami, I have to totally scorn the idea of it.

I definitely can’t tell them that this place is changing me.

Macy comes back with my check and places it down with a smile. “You doing okay, Dr. Westbrook? You seem a little down today.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” I lie. “I just have a few things on my mind.”

“If you ever want to talk about it, I’m an open ear. Anyone around here would be.”

I smile at her. “Thank you.”

She lingers, waiting for me to start spilling my heart out, but even if I am getting more accustomed to the Silverbell way of living, I’m still not ready to go around telling everyone I meet my life story. Maybe if I stayed here longer.

Would I want to stay here longer? It’s slow and quiet, and everyone knows my name now, but I’m not sure I think that’s as bad as I used to.

It used to look like the worst thing in the world to me, to be trapped in a small town where everyone knew everything about you, but nobody really cared. That’s what small towns have always seemed like to me. A cage. But being here?

Not that I ever want to admit this aloud, especially not to Mikey, but I think the pace of life here is starting to suit me.

Instead of saying any of that, I hand Macy my card. At least they have card machines in Silverbell. See? They’re not totally unevolved.

Macy beams at me, hesitating for another second in case I want to change my mind and talk to her after all, but I don’t. She charges my card and hands it back to me. “Thanks for your patronage, Dr. Westbrook. You come by again now anytime! We’re always happy to see you.”

“Thanks, Macy,” I say as I get up. As I leave, I glance over my shoulder and see that she’s still watching me go.

The day at the hospital is the same as any other: I banter with Sienna in the morning, she gets fake annoyed with me, I kiss her to make it better. She tells me to cut it out because we’re at work, then goes right back to kissing me. We tear ourselves apart for a second to go do some work for real, and then we head back to the office to hang out some more.

She’s really done something to me. I’m still struggling to believe it. But every time I look at her, a sense of calm hits me, a feeling of stillness, like being near her makes everything all right. I’ve never felt so anchored to another person before.

I’ve never felt such genuine affection.

Not that Sienna’s my girlfriend, but I’ve never had a girlfriend like her. They’ve always wanted something from me before, but all Sienna seems to want is me. She doesn’t want money or jewels or designer shoes. She just wants me.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Betancourt,” I say as I walk up to his bed.

I’ve been let loose this afternoon, free from my chain to Sienna. Clearly, I’m trustworthy enough now to do stuff without supervision. Mr. Betancourt is due to have bypass surgery today, and I’ve asked if I can help. Heart stuff isn’t really my field, but I’m bored of nursing duty and I haven’t been able to talk anyone around here into anything cosmetic.

He’s a simple enough case, at least, and even if I’m not allowed to do anything, being in the room will make me feel useful again.

Lately, I’m finding out that useful doesn’t just mean the high-end OR stuff though. Even the admins can be useful.

Doesn’t mean I don’t miss the precision and concentration of surgery.

“Hello, Dr. Westbrook. What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to help.”

He looks me up and down in surprise. “Don’t you do facelifts and that kind of thing? And where’s young Miss Hale? It’s said that you two are joined at the hip.”

“She’s my supervisor,” I say, trying to put to bed any ideas he might have or be spreading about us. “And yes, I am mostly a cosmetic surgeon, but I still spent a hell of a lot of time studying for stuff like bypasses.”

“It’s good to know you’re on my team, then,” he says, not quite smiling but not quite as skeptical as before. “I’m sure you’re an expert.”

I turn on my very best grin for him. “I assure you, I am.”

The grin either does nothing, or he is already in his best possible pre-op mood because his face falls a little. “But where is Miss Hale? Isn’t she meant to be here?”

“She has other duties,” I say with a shrug. It’s not a lie; she is busy. This morning, we visited Mr. Betancourt together, making sure he was good to go for the procedure, so I guess it makes sense that he expects her to be here.

But we’re trying to make an effort not to be, as he says, joined at the hip. If it’s getting out as gossip among patients, it’s definitely spreading around the hospital. And Sienna wants to be a little more careful than I do to avoid a scandal.

Professional dignity means a lot to her. It’s admirable.

It makes me want to push her against a wall and kiss her. Then again, everything does these days.

“Shame,” says Mr. Betancourt. “I like her. She’s a damn fine nurse.”

“That she is,” I agree. “One of the best.”

He raises a probing eyebrow at me, but I say nothing else. I’m starting to get a name around here. People I’ve never met before are starting to recognize me and talk to me. Everyone knows Sienna, of course, and now they’re starting to drag me into their community.

I should definitely hate that. I should despise the way there’s no store I can go into without being known. And no patients who I meet who don’t expect to see Sienna with me. But I don’t think I do.

Turns out that being a regular in stores is kind of nice. Sharing a part of myself, even if it’s small, with the everyday people around me isn’t as awful as I’d always thought.

Makes concealing my and Sienna’s affair harder, though.

Mr. Betancourt keeps staring at me like he’s expecting me to crack, but I don’t. I just smile again and get him comfortable. Something which has never been my job before.

Something which I don’t think I hate at all.