Chapter Seven Emily
Chapter Seven
Emily
“Are you sure you don’t need anything?” I asked Bettie, who was perched extra high in her bed today, wearing a smile bigger than normal.
Since I knew her philosophy on smiling, I really hoped that didn’t mean she was in extra pain or beyond miserable, or this facility—or worse, me—was failing her in some way and she refused to say anything about it.
When it came to all things medical, there needed to be full transparency between patients and the staff, and I hoped I had that with her.
“You know I’m here for whatever you need, right? You just have to say the word.”
She grabbed her reading glasses and phone from the table beside her, the phone going to her lap, the glasses on her face. “I know, my lovely gal.” She glanced at her screen. “Everything is just glorious.”
“Glad to hear it.” I moved to the doorway of her room, and before I walked through it, I decided to turn toward her and add, “And the stiffness is still the same, right? You have no additional pain that you haven’t mentioned?”
“Actually, it’s a little better today.”
Maybe the smile really was a smile.
“Exactly what I want to hear.” I paused. “Remember, hit the button if you need me and I’ll get here as fast as I can.”
She gave me a nod and focused on her phone, and I went into the hallway, stopping at the portable computer station to enter some notes for a previous patient. Just as my hands hit the keyboard, something made me glance up from the monitor.
A feeling.
One I couldn’t explain, but when I saw Gavin making his way toward me, it all made sense.
Or maybe it didn’t make any sense at all.
He certainly wasn’t coming here to speak to me. He was headed for Bettie’s room, which was only two doors behind me.
But still, the sight of him was doing everything to me. My blood pressure skyrocketed, the tingles, starting between my legs, exploded through my body, and the anxiousness peaked.
Was that because he looked so different from the last time I’d seen him?
Instead of the sweatpants-and-shirtless look he’d had going on during the early hours of that morning, here he was dressed in a suit.
One that was extremely sharp, black, and a level of sexy I couldn’t even fathom.
He’d paired it with a light-blue shirt and a tie that had the two colors mixed in smooth, small stripes.
His black hair was gelled toward the center, his scruff just as long and thick as it had been when we’d kissed.
Oh God, that first kiss.
I didn’t think I’d ever get over it.
But that didn’t mean I was going to throw myself at him or act like I was dying to see him. That would have zero effect on a man who only wanted a one-night stand.
So I gave him a wave, and as he approached, I said, “Hi, Gavin,” and I entered my password so I could work on the notes.
“Emily . . .” He stopped near the back of the computer, the movement sending me a wave of his cologne. That spicy ginger-cinnamon scent was enough to make me weak, and it was absolutely enough to make me glance up and lock eyes with him. “Just the person I came to see.”
He came to see . . . me?
Even though his eyes were on mine, I felt them on every part of my body, even the parts that were covered by my scrubs.
I’d never been so thankful that Maya had the day off.
“And why is that?” I asked. “Why aren’t you here for Bettie?”
“I wanted to thank you.”
Now, this was interesting.
I let my brows raise, my teeth finding my lip before I said, “For what?”
“What you did for Ben. Since he saw you, you’re all he’s talked about. Well, you and Fenway.” His head dropped, and he looked at me through his lashes. A gaze so charming and provocative, it should be on the cover of a romance novel.
“When I took the job with Dr. Kaplan, I learned very quickly I needed to provide a distraction for my patients. Fenway comes in handy during almost every visit.”
“Most kids love a cute dog.” He pursed his lips in a masculine way. “Good choice.”
I ran my hand around the edge of my V-neck top. “I’m just happy it worked out and you didn’t find yourself at the ER. How’s he feeling now? Any soreness? I imagine things must be okay since some time has passed.”
“The next morning, he didn’t even bring it up, which means he felt nothing, since that kid doesn’t hold anything back.”
“Most don’t.” My head tilted while I stared at him. “You’ve got the most adorable kid, Gavin. Truly. Ben is really something special.”
“I got lucky.”
“Well, yes, but luck has nothing to do with how great he is. That’s because of the way you’re raising him. You’ve turned him into such a little gentleman. Thoughtful. Caring. Kind. Kids aren’t born with those traits—they’re taught those traits, and you’ve done an incredible job with him.”
God, that grin was so delicious. It didn’t even come with teeth, just a small pulling of his lips, and that was all it took to melt me.
He reached into the pocket of his suit jacket, removing a piece of folded paper that he handed to me.
“What’s this?”
“Open it.”
I unfolded the paper, and inside was a drawing.
Two exaggerated stick figures, the first a self-portrait of Ben semi-sitting on a couch, the other, me, kneeling in front of him, an oversize Fenway beside us.
He even signed his name at the bottom. But it was the detail that captured me the most—the color of my hair, the design of my scrubs, the way he’d even remembered Fenway’s red collar.
I held the art against my chest. “I love it so much. Please thank him for me.” I refolded the drawing and carefully placed it into my scrubs pocket.
“He drew it this morning before school when I told him I was coming to see you. All on his own, I didn’t even tell him to. And he gave me strict instructions to make sure you got the drawing.” He laughed.
My eyes closed for a moment while I took this all in. “Best kid ever.”
“It’s his thank-you note for the cupcakes. You didn’t have to do that, but that gesture made my son so happy.”
“It’s no problem.” I shrugged. “Giving gifts is kinda my thing.”
“But it is a problem. After dinner wasn’t enough—he was asking to have one for breakfast too.” He smiled.
I laughed. “Did you let him have one?”
“Hell no.” He lifted his head, looking at me dead-on rather than through his lashes.
“The last thing I need is his teacher calling, saying he’s on a sugar high and disrupting the whole class.
My kid has enough energy he needs to get out.
A cupcake for breakfast, he’d be bouncing from the floor to the ceiling. ”
“Believe it or not, I can actually envision that.” My brow furrowed. “But did you have one? That’s the real question.”
“A cupcake?” When I nodded, he continued, “The night you delivered them I did, yeah.”
“Time for you to confess.” I grinned. “Are you a vanilla guy? Like your son?”
His chuckle was deep and breathy. “No. The cupcake was good . . . but no.”
“If you’re not vanilla, what are you, then?”
He licked his lips. Very slowly. “We are talking about flavors, aren’t we?”
I wanted to strip this man naked and hurtle into his arms.
I drew in some air instead. “Of course.”
“Caramel, Oreo, chocolate, even peanut butter or coffee. I need a kick. Vanilla’s too plain for me.”
“Same.”
He nodded like he was listening to music. “I know you like a kick.”
With his gaze growing more intense, I was sure my face was getting redder by the second.
“Ha! You know nothing about me aside from the type of pizza I’ll eat—and that I’ll even eat pizza and that I’m not a fussy drinker.”
“Oh, I know a lot more than that.”
“Like what?”
“You really want to hear this?”
I didn’t need to think about his question, but I acted as though I did and finally responded, “I believe I do.”
“What you probably want to hear is that I know what you look like while you’re working, the attention and focus you give a patient and how you ease them.
” He glanced to either side of us as though he was making sure no one was within ear range, and then he took a step closer.
“But what I’d rather say is that I know what you taste like.
I know how tight your pussy gets right before you’re going to come.
How wet. How your nails dig into my skin and they don’t release until you stop shuddering.
Or how about the way you look in the morning.
Not after sleep, but after five orgasms. That amount of coming should wreck you.
But you didn’t look that way at all. You were fucking beautiful. ”
And I was internally dying from every word he just spoke.
I filled my lungs and breathed, “Gavin . . .”
“It only took one night, but I know things, Emily. More than you think I do.”
“I don’t even know what to say.” I shook my head, but my smile didn’t fade at all.
“I . . . like strawberry.” I laughed, realizing how ridiculous that sounded following everything he’d just said, but if I commented on the sexy stuff, I feared the two of us would be locked in the supply closet in less than a minute.
His expression transitioned from feral to amused. “Strawberry?” He sounded shocked. “No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“Fruity desserts don’t make any sense. I’m all for liking fruit—I like it, too, as part of my breakfast or for a snack.
But if I’m going to indulge, it’s not the kind of ending I’m looking for.
I want something rich and promising.” He slipped his hands into his pockets, the position causing his jacket to open, revealing more of his chest. The muscles beneath, the ones his shirt were hugging, were as hard as stone and had the ability to toss me on a bed—a counter, a bench in his shower—as though I weighed nothing.
I didn’t know what was making me wetter: his presence, his sexual knowledge of me, or remembering his strength and talents.
I leaned against the wall beside me, breathless, and crossed my arms. “Define promising . . .”
“Something that’s going to leave a lasting effect.”
He was good.
But so was I.
“Such as?”