Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Gaines
Evan’s advice should have been easy to follow. I intended to stay home through the weekend as I worked out a plan on how to deal with Eloise’s awakening in the cafeteria yesterday.
I can’t ignore the fact that I believe she recognizes me as the man she met at that club; a man who roped his hand through her hair as she took me to places I’ve never been before with her talented mouth.
I’ll never forget how that felt. The pillow softness of her lips. The slide of her tongue along my dick and the sound she made when I shot my load down her throat.
I’d edged back, determined to shoot all over her face, but she’d persisted. She hummed in protest when I tried to slide out of her mouth.
I gave her what she wanted then, but before I could offer her the same pleasure, she ran out of there like a lightning bolt.
I’d paid extra attention to the women of Manhattan after that, half-hoping I’d find my lamb on the bustling sidewalk or perhaps in a café since she didn’t make a repeat appearance at the club in the months following our encounter.
Noticing the curve of the hips of every brunette I passed became second nature to me. If I saw one that I suspected might be the woman from the club, I’d approach in a subtle effort to look at her eyes to see if they were the unique shade of blue and gray that had bore me into me that night.
It was shortly after Berk met his wife, Astrid, that I first saw Eloise again.
She was sitting in a bar watching her cousin perform a few songs.
I was on the other side of the room, but felt a pull that I still can’t explain to this day.
My body knew it was my lamb before I got the confirmation when she turned to her side and I saw her profile.
The shape of her lips and the graceful curve of her neck made me ache inside.
I stared at her, unable to move, until Berk patted me on the shoulder and made his presence known.
I could tell within seconds that he knew her. He caught me staring at her and asked if I wanted to be introduced. I refused with the excuse of needing to get home, but when I saw her at their wedding in a strapless blue dress, my cock hardened, and my pulse raced.
That’s when I heard her real name for the first time. Astrid had called out to her, and Eloise had responded with a smile that froze time for a second or two.
I cursed under my breath when I realized she was the younger cousin of Berk’s wife.
I’d branded her off-limits then since she was too close to my inner circle. A circle that I work hard to separate from what I do at Club Skyn behind a mask.
I left shortly after the ceremony, telling Berk that I was needed at the hospital.
I wasn’t.
I needed a strong drink, so I indulged in a few before I fell face first onto my bed. I jacked off the following morning in the shower thinking about her and then made a vow to forget her.
I broke that less than a minute later and have almost every moment since.
I shake all of that off, hopeful that my Sunday dinner plans will give me a temporary reprieve from thinking about Eloise.
I knock on the door to Berk and Astrid’s brownstone on the Upper West Side. I’m here because their daughter, Stevie, offered me an invite an hour ago via the phone she was given just over a month ago for emergency use only.
Apparently, my presence at this dinner qualifies as lifesaving.
The door swings open. Stevie is on the other side with her phone in her hand. “You took forever to get here.”
I took the subway so I can see how it might feel that way. It did to me.
“What’s up, buttercup?”
She smiles as she always does when I call her that. It started a few months ago when I brought her a bouquet of buttercups. She was having a bad day, as most nine-year-olds do when someone breaks their heart.
I offer her a bouquet of them now since I stopped at a bodega that had an ample display of flowers waiting to be bought.
“These are for me?” She gazes up at me with her big blue eyes.
We share that trait, as does her dad and our late grandfather.
“Just for you.” I brush past her to enter the foyer. “Where are your mom and dad?”
“Kissing in the kitchen.” She laughs. “I’ll put these in water.”
“I’ll help,” I say because Stevie seems to think I have a hidden talent for flower arranging. I don’t.
My phone chimes in the pocket of my suit jacket. I put it on over a gray T-shirt before I left home. Paired with jeans, it’s good enough to pass for semi-professional if I’m called to the hospital tonight.
“That’s probably doctor stuff.” She points a finger at me. “You better check that out. Someone might have a hurt heart.”
I brush a hand over her head. “They might. I’ll give it a quick look and join you in a minute.”
She pads toward the kitchen on bare feet. “I’ll tell Mom and Dad you’re here!”
I retrieve my phone and read the text message that just came in.
It’s from the answering service at my office, but the patient who called in isn’t in dire need of help.
I’ll call them shortly to check in and schedule them for an appointment this coming week.
I could leave it for my office staff tomorrow, but a patient who is fretting for hours isn’t ideal.
Just as I’m pocketing my phone, the doorbell rings.
Since Berk has two siblings who have found their life partners, too, I’m used to big Morgan family dinners.
I swing open the door expecting to see my cousin, Keats and his family, or Sinclair and her fiancé, Jameson.
It’s not a Morgan behind the door.
It’s a Rehn.
Eloise, dressed in a red off-the-shoulder sweater and ripped, faded jeans, stares up at me. “Oh.”
Oh indeed.
My gaze drops to her lips before I look into her eyes. “Hello, Eloise.”
“Dr. Morgan,” she says my name in a breathy tone. “How are you, sir?”