Chapter 4 Winston #2
I was standing in the back of the large canopy tent, waiting for the live music to start. I’d had an amazing day scuba diving and was exhausted, but I didn’t want the day to end just yet. I knew I wanted a night to remember, but I didn’t know how to achieve that.
Not until Dove walked into the room.
I don’t think she understands how beautiful she is. The moment she walked into the room, every gaze fell upon her, male and female alike. Every single head turned, watching her walk to her table and sit down.
The moment I saw her, I knew I had to have her for myself. Too many male gazes lingered on her, and I knew my time to stake my claim was narrowing by the second the longer I took to go to her.
The dress she was wearing clung to her body, showing every curve. Her bright blue eyes and long eyelashes drew me in. They called to me. Beaconed me like a siren does a sailor.
Our chemistry was instant. My body burned for her.
And it did the entire night.
“Dove,” I growl into the shower stall, wrapping my fist around my cock as the memory of her naked body infiltrates my mind.
I remember the way my hand drifted down her leg, how I relished in the softness of her skin. The pull to her was magnetic, a force that I couldn’t fight.
That I can’t fight.
The magnetism is still there, pulling me to her, daring me to find her so we can finally have the life that I think we both crave.
“Fuck.” My groan echoes through the stall and I bite onto my arm to keep myself silent.
The way she needed me that night still haunts me. She begged for my cock. She ached for me. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone want me that much before. She was so wet, so tight, so fucking warm, and the way she moaned my name will be engrained in my mind until the day I die.
Swiping my thumb over the crown, I gasp. I drag my fingers down the wall, wishing it was her smooth, flawless back my blunt nails were dragging on.
God.
The way she rode me.
“That’s it, Dove. Take my cock like good girl,” I whisper to the memory of her.
I press my forehead against the wall, remembering how I pressed it against her chest when she was on top of me and I couldn’t believe how fucking good she felt.
“I miss your body on mine. I miss the way you say my name when I make you come.”
If I think about her voice enough, I can hear the soft whisper of her saying my name, and that’s all it takes for the orgasm to buckle my knees. I catch myself on the wall, groaning as jet after jet paints the wall.
I pant, the warm water trickling into my mouth, and I spit it out. I need a few more seconds to gather my thoughts before I can wash up.
Her blue eyes fade into my memory. Tonight, I know she will visit my dreams and I’ll be able to see them again.
I chuckle to myself. “Fucking hell, Winston. You’re a damn goner.” I almost feel like a teen again. That desperate kind of love that makes you feel like you’ll die if that love isn’t yours. It has me by my damn throat.
While I find myself wondering where Dove can be, I finish washing up, scrubbing every inch of my body to get this day off me. It only takes me a few minutes before I’m stepping out onto the mat, drying off, and wrapping the towel around my waist.
I grab a nice pair of dark blue jeans from the dresser and pair them with a short-sleeve black button-up shirt that’s slightly sheer across the shoulders. The buttons are gold and add a nice pop of color. This shirt cost way too much, but if I spend money, it is typically on fashionable clothes.
I’d go to dinner in sweatpants and a nice hoodie, but my mom would scold me until the end of time. She and Dad are older. I hate to say it, but my brothers and I might have another five, maybe ten years with them if we’re lucky. So if my mom wants me to dress nice, then that’s what I’m going to do.
I slip on my Rolex and shoes, run my fingers through my hair, spray a small amount of cologne, and make my way out the door.
“Olivia, please, go home. Rest. You don’t need to be here any longer today.”
“I’m almost done.”
“Olivia.” I deepen my voice to show my patience is wearing thin.
She stops typing, eyes going wide when she hears the tone I don’t use all that often. “Yes, Dr. Warrick. You’re right. You know how I get caught up in tasks.”
“I know, but even you need rest. If I’m called in for anything urgent, I’ll let you know.” That’s Olivia’s rule. If I’m called in for an emergency, I have to call her.
I support it. She keeps me going on those days by moving other appointments, getting me food because I will forget to eat, and coffee.
“Excellent. I’ll see you tomorrow. Enjoy your dinner.”
“I will.” I give her a wave and slip into the elevator with Dr. Greene.
“Doctor.” She nods.
“Doctor.” I have to hold in my smile every time she greets me like that.
Dr. Greene is in her seventies, and she isn’t showing any signs of stopping.
The Warrick Group has tests for all doctors when they reach a certain age to prove they still know their medicine and that physically they’re still up to the task of being a doctor.
Dr. Greene has yet to fail. She isn’t old-school.
She likes to learn new medical knowledge, so she always stays up-to-date.
But.
She greets every doctor in the way she just greeted me. One word. Nothing else. Just a head nod. Then, we’re trapped in silence for the elevator ride down. Luckily, there’s bad jazz music playing through the speakers, so I guess I’m not in complete silence.
Curious, I check the social media app that Olivia made, and notice I already have ninety-nine plus notifications. My brows rise.
The video already has seventy thousand views with so many comments and messages. I have to check them to see if any belong to Dove.
The elevator door opens and Dr. Greene steps out first.
“Doctor.” She gives a half bow.
“Doctor.”
She scurries down the hall while I take a right, pushing the revolving doors to allow me outside. The sun is setting and I check my watch to make sure I’m on time.
“That’s a relief,” I say to myself.
I tend to lose track of time in the hospital. Sometimes, I don’t even remember the day. I’m just surviving and getting by until I have a day off to recalibrate.
“Sorry.” Someone accidentally bumps into me on the sidewalk, a woman with dark hair who seems to be in a hurry.
I step toward her, wondering if she’s my Dove, but stop myself. I’m being ridiculous. Of course that isn’t her. She doesn’t live in New York City. I’m losing my damn mind now if I’m hoping she’s a stranger who will bump into me.
Tucking my hands into my pockets, I head to the Italian restaurant my mom loves so much.
The air is a bit sticky with humidity but there’s a small breeze that brings a little relief.
A couple walks by me with their two dogs, smiling and laughing at whatever they’re saying to each other.
A father walks by next with his toddler on his shoulders.
His son is giggling up a storm. Anyone who doesn’t smile from a baby laughing, they must be heartless.
I didn’t realize how much I wanted a partner or a child until I met Dove. Before, I was only work driven. I wanted to pursue my career. That was all that mattered to me. Then, I was the youngest appointed chief of surgery, and I didn’t know what other goals to make.
I do now.
I’m so lost in thought, I almost pass the restaurant. The moment I enter, I walk by the hostess stand and to the back where we always sit. We’re here so much, we always have a table reserved. They never know when the Warricks will pop in.
“Winston!” My mom beams when she sees me, and damn, that has me feeling good. “Oh, it’s so good to see you. How was your day? You three have to tell me all about your jobs. What’s new?” Mary Elizabeth Warrick is a retired nurse who worked for my dad, Winston Gabriel Warrick Sr.
“Yes, you three never call us anymore. How are we supposed to know if you’re making good decisions?” Dad gruffs just before taking a sip of red wine.
“I just got off an eighteen-hour shift. You’re lucky I’m here,” I tease, bumping my mom’s arm. “Not that that would ever stop me.”
Mom grips my chin, giving it a slight shake. “That’s my boy. At least my oldest son loves me.”
I pat her winkled hand, hating how frail she’s getting. I’ll never miss a dinner with my parents. I’ll never miss any time I have left. They saved my life. Saved me from the system. Gave me love and a home that I thought I’d never have. The least I can do is show up when they want to see me.
“Come on, Mom. Waylon and I were here before Doctor Silver Fox.” Wyatt winks at me before tearing off a piece of bread.
I groan, forgetting my younger brothers are on social media. “Seriously, Wyatt? You’re going to bring that up now?”
“Absolutely. And I’m never going to let you forget it.”
“Wyatt, be nice to your brother. You’ll need to be in his will one day.” Mom snickers at her own joke and Dad smiles down at her as if she’s the funniest person who ever lived.
I want a love like they have.
“Her name is Dove,” Waylon spills my secret.
“Waylon,” I seethe between tight teeth. “Not here. Not now.”
Wyatt and Waylon are in their mid-thirties. Contrary to how they’re acting now, they are mature, kind, good men. Anytime we get together, though, it’s as if we forget we’re grown adults and revert to our younger days.
“Come on, Winston. Why did we even have to find out like that? We don’t even know who you’re talking about.” Waylon seems bothered that I didn’t come to him.
I didn’t even think about it. Not because I don’t love my brothers, but because of how ridiculous it sounds when I speak the truth out loud.
“Waylon. Wyatt. I didn’t hide anything from you. Not intentionally,” I add before either one of them can argue with me.
“What is going on?” Mom asks, sounding so confused. “What are they talking about?” She peers up at my dad through gray eyelashes. “What are you three talking about?” She shoots her icy daggers at me, not filled with love like they were moments ago.
“Winston met someone,” Wyatt starts.
I hold my hand in the air to stop him. “Enough with the damn childlike attitude, Wyatt. I kept this to myself for a reason. Not everything needs to be shared all the time. This was mine to tell you about when I was ready. What you saw was my last resort.” I place my elbows on the table and narrow my eyes at my brothers, then focus on Mom.
“I met someone in Costa Rica. Remember when I went on vacation?”
“We remember,” Dad says, holding Mom’s hand. “So what’s the big deal? That’s great. When can we meet her?” His voice booms through the restaurant with excitement. “Am I finally going to be a grandpa? I never thought I would be at the rate you three are going. Slow as fucking sloths, I tell ya.”
“I’m going to be a grandma?” Mom gasps, cupping her hands over her mouth.
“Oh my. I never thought.” She begins to sniffle, dabbing her under eyes with a napkin.
“Winston, I’ve waited so long to hear you say that.
With you turning forty-five, I kind of gave up hope you’d ever settle down and have child. ”
I frown. “Well, thanks for the vote of confidence. Damn, Mom.”
“Don’t curse at your mother,” Dad scolds, pointing a finger at me. “Don’t act like she’s wrong either.”
“Okay, this is getting out of hand. No one is pregnant. I’m not having a baby.
You can’t meet her because I don’t know how to find her.
” I press my palms against my eyes and groan.
“Waylon and Wyatt are talking about the video I made on social media. I can’t find her anywhere, okay?
I hired a private investigator and it didn’t work out.
My assistant had me make that video and I don’t even know if it will work.
” I can’t hide the defeat in my voice. “I need to try, though, because it was the best night of my life when I met her. She changed something in me. She made me want more and I haven’t felt that in a very long time.
” I take a long swig of my gin and tonic.
“That’s that. That’s the truth. Can we move on now and stop with childish antics? ”
“Sorry, Winston.” Wyatt says. “We didn’t know it would bother you so much. We’re sorry. Tell us about her. What was she like?”
“Yes,” Mom chimes in with a big smile. “Talk to me about my future daughter-in-law.”
I scoff a laugh. “I have to find her first, Mom.”
“You will. Someone who makes you feel like that? That’s destiny.
You’ll find each other when the universe says you will.
” She gives my face a soft pat. “You deserve good things, Winston. I hope you don’t stop looking for the lady who made my boy want good things for himself again.
Because that’s okay, you know, to want for yourself. ”
“I have everything I need, Mom.” I stare into her watery blue eyes, hating the wrinkles that have formed.
She tsks. “That’s different than everything you want.”
I didn’t realize until now that those two things are not the same.