CHAPTER SIX #2
“How much would it cost for me to wrap you in plastic and throw you in the Hudson River?”
“Have I interrupted something?”
We both turn our heads in surprise at the sound of a third voice. Neither of us was paying attention when the doctor entered the curtained-off alcove.
The sight of him knocks the wind from my lungs.
He looks like he just stepped out of a superhero movie—or at least a wrestling show.
He’s got to be six foot five with a head of thick, wavy brown hair held back from his face in a low ponytail.
I’d love to know how the heck he found a white coat to fit over his bulging shoulders and chest.
“N-no,” I stammer. Jeez, I’m blushing—no, I’m flushed, and it’s spreading all over my body. It would be bad enough for that to happen if I were alone with Dr. Hunky, but Matt’s here to witness it too. “It’s okay.”
His clear green eyes move back and forth between Matt and me before his sensuous—yes, sensuous, I said it—mouth tugs upward at one corner. “What have we here then? Miss Valentine, is it?”
“It is.” My hand is probably sweaty, but I can’t ignore the hand he extends for a shake. It engulfs mine, bringing to mind an adult taking a child’s hand. Not the sexiest place my thoughts could’ve gone, but that’s okay. Now is not the time for sexy thoughts.
“And you are?” He turns to Matt with a smile.
“Matt Ryder. The neighbor whose dog caused this,” Matt explains, wanting to get that part out there before there are any wrong ideas floating around. Again.
“These things happen.” The hunky doctor shrugs.
God, how do the seams on his coat stay together with all those muscles moving around underneath? Especially in the shoulder region, though his biceps are enormous too.
“I’m Dr. Jake Becker.”
Jake Becker. Jake. Yes, I can imagine moaning his name, gripping those obscenely massive shoulders while he—
Get a grip on yourself.
I have to dig my nails into my palms to bring my thoughts back into focus, though a simple move of my sore foot would’ve done the trick. As soon as the doctor places even a soft touch against it, I wince.
“Sorry about that.” Jake frowns. “Let’s see what we have here.”
He pulls up a stool on wheels and perches on it, positioned …
right in front of where I’m lying on the bed.
Between my legs. Holy moly. I have half a mind to ask Matt if there isn’t something else he’d rather be doing right now because the presence of probably the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen has me feeling all sorts of mixed up and, well, horny. For lack of a better word.
And I’m a writer. I know lots of words. But this is flat-out horniness. Animal lust. I’m practically salivating all over myself.
He’s exceedingly gentle as he closes a hand around my lower calf, lifting my leg off the pillow it’s been propped up on all this time. “You’re looking fairly swollen,” Jake murmurs, comparing one ankle to the other.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” I frown. What an unfortunate choice of words because, now, all I can do is think of other swollen things …
“Can you move it at all?” he asks, his eyes locking with mine and basically shooting an electric current up and down my spine.
I try to move it, grimacing as I do. Pain has a way of wiping away all sexy thoughts.
Still, the doctor’s smiling a little. “The fact that you can move your foot at all is a good thing,” he assures me, holding my leg with one hand while he presses lightly on my swollen flesh with the tips of his fingers.
“I’ll send you down for an X-ray to be sure, but it’s more than likely nothing worse than a sprain.
I know that’s bad enough, but right now, it’s the best-case scenario. ”
“Thank you,” I breathe. Why am I thanking him? He didn’t do anything.
“Dr. Becker!” somebody calls out from the hall.
He sighs, reaching into the breast pocket of his superpowered coat.
I mean, it has to be superpowered, right?
Or else it would shred under the strain of all that muscle.
“I’m sorry. We’re up to our necks in patients today.
Feel free to reach out to me anytime if you have any problems.” He hands me a card with his name and number.
“Thank you,” I breathe again. Jeez, he’s going to think I’m a real loser. I can barely string a handful of words together in his presence.
“No problem.” He even winks before turning to Matt, shaking his hand again. “And good on you for bringing her in. We should all have decent neighbors like you.”
I have to bite my tongue since it’s my impulse to be snarky whenever Matt’s the topic of conversation. The poor guy has already been through enough today.
Besides, I’m holding what looks like the key to my next book. Granted, I don’t know if he’s single—he wasn’t wearing a ring, but that doesn’t mean there’s no girlfriend in the picture.
Though, let’s be honest, how often does a doctor hand a patient his card when it looks like their issue is nothing worse than a sprained ankle?
Why would I need to follow up with him? I can be oblivious when it comes to a lot of things, but even I managed to pick up on that not-so-subtle hint that Dr. Dreamboat wants an excuse to chat again.
“Welp.” Matt leans his back to the wall near my feet, folding his arms over his chest. “There I was, beating myself up over what happened to you. All this time, I should’ve been patting myself on the back.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you just met the hero of your next book.” He smirks. “Don’t forget to dedicate this one to me.”