Chapter 1 #2
He’s wearing blue scrubs. Not the blue scrubs! Blue is a calming color, but that’s not how it affects me. His dark skin seems to glow against it, and the way his short sleeves show off his powerful biceps makes me feel like I have a heart condition.
Have you ever been around a guy so hot it destroys your brain?
I live a pretty sheltered life on Bad Bear mountain.
I don’t really party. I perv on celebrities like everyone else, but Dr. Hunk is a real life celebrity–sexy, smart, perfect.
After the Latte Incident where he said good morning, and I shouted “BLARG!” and spilled an entire oat milk latte on myself, I’ve learned to avoid him.
So there is definitely no way I can have this conversation with him.
“I thought you’d be the nurse,” I blurt.
“Nancy had to leave early. I can help you.” He regards me with his dreamy brown eyes.
His glasses only emphasize how gorgeous he is.
He looks so collected and in control, but I know his secret.
He’s a bear shifter. Most of the residents of Bad Bear know that Winnie and the seven now-grown boys she adopted are different from the rest of us, but we protect that secret, and in return, they protect and give back to the town.
The fact that Dr. Hunk is a bear means he has a wild side. I wonder if he lets it out in the bedroom...
Gah! I need to stop perving on the good doctor. He’s not an object of desire. It’s not his fault he’s perfect in every way.
“No. You can’t.” I tug on my shirt, pulling it down to hide my belly.
Why, oh why did I wear a cropped sweater today of all days?
One of my New Year's resolutions is to be braver. Another was making this health care appointment. Between running the cafe and helping my grandma, Daisy, with Winterfest, I don’t really have time, but the pain has gotten unbearable.
He catches my hand, staying it. It’s a light touch, but his big hand almost swallows mine. “Maisy, please.” His other hand slides over my belly. It’s warm, the touch sensual although I’m sure he doesn’t mean it to be. “What hurts?” He slides his hand across my abdomen like he’s soothing me.
I close my eyes. His sandalwood scent surrounds me, warm and comforting. I want to roll on my back and offer my belly to him like a puppy.
Yes, please. Please touch me more.
Crap, he asked me a question, and he’s waiting for me to answer.
Eek. It took a lot for me to even come in today, and now I have to talk about my private parts with my long-time crush? “It’s my ovaries.”
“Are you on your period? Do you have cramps?”
“No, I just had my period a couple of weeks ago.” I wave to my journal, where I chart my symptoms and cycle regularly. “I won’t get it for a month or more. I’m not very regular. I have cysts. They hurt so bad, but… the Ob-Gyn says there’s no way I could feel that.”
His brow furrows. His hand still rests on my belly, and even though I’m in pain, I start imagining what would happen if he turned his fingers and slid them lower, between my legs.
“She’s wrong. A lot of patients feel pain from ovarian cysts. It’s very common.”
He’s so assuring, and I can’t hold back anymore. The dam bursts. “She said I have PCOS, but there’s no way I’d actually feel the cysts. She said I had to be imagining the pain. She said…” my voice catches, and I mumble the rest, feeling the tug of shame, “She said I just need to lose weight.”
Dr. Hunk frowns, and it’s chilling how handsome he is, even when he’s stern. “She didn’t prescribe something to manage your condition?”
I shake my head, feeling miserable.
For a second, his eyes blaze blue. It must be a bear thing. I’ve seen it before on Axel, his brother, and my pity prom date, but I don’t know what it means. We don’t know much about our, er, different neighbors, but we respect their privacy, and in return, they’d do anything for our little town.
“That’s not okay.” His voice is a guttural growl that sends goosebumps skittering up my arms. “You should never have to suffer like this.”
I nod miserably. He’s angry, but not at me.
“Maisy, listen to me.” He takes both my hands now and faces me.
He’s so handsome I can barely look at him, but the moment feels more intimate than a doctor and patient.
My shoulders relax for the first time in years.
“One of the symptoms of PCOS is weight gain. There are ways to manage the symptoms, but our first priority is to address the pain. You don’t need to lose weight.
You need a better doctor. And it isn’t your fault she was an idiot. And mean.”
I nod, my eyes smarting with tears. Geez, I can’t cry right now. I’ve already embarrassed myself enough around him.
But it feels so, so good to have someone listen to me. To have someone hear me out and rally to my side.
“You did a brave thing coming in today. Got that?”
I nod.
“I’m going to need to hear a yes, Matthias.”
Oh, damn. He sounds like one of the dommy heroes from my favorite romance novels. His smile softens the command, but the order makes my pussy clench.
Does he have any idea of his effect on women when he uses that dominating tone?
I straighten my shoulders, feeling better. It’s such a relief to have someone I trust listen to me, praise me, then tell me what to do. “Yes, doctor.” I could never call him Matthias. I owe him too much respect.
He nods, and I hear the echo of good girl spoken in his deep voice, even though he doesn’t say it.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he starts, but a creaking floorboard interrupts him.
“Doctor?” the front desk manager calls from the hall. “Jasmine Wilkins is on the phone. She’s freaking out. Oliver stuck a Lego up his nose.”
Dr. Hunk clenches his jaw. He half turns to go but pauses like he doesn’t want to leave.
“That sounds serious. You better go,” I whisper. It’ll give me a chance to run away and fake my death. I can’t believe I ended up getting Dr. Hunk as my doctor when I came to talk about female trouble.
Ugh.
“Dr. Matthias?”
“I’m coming.” His deep voice is so comforting. “Don’t move,” he orders me.
My pussy clenches again at his authoritative tone.
“I’ll be right back.”
I wait until the door closes behind him and slip off the bed. Time to make my escape. The clinic is in an old house. It’s been renovated, but an old bathroom is attached to this patient room.
I waste no time ducking in there, unlatching the window, and shoving it up. After popping out the screen with two quick bangs of my fist, I stand on the toilet and hoist one leg over the windowsill.
I hear the deep rumble of Dr. Hunk’s voice down the hall, and my nipples tighten.
Dear God, why does he have this effect on me? It’s like I turn into a puddle of goo around him. It’s so much better to avoid him than embarrass myself the way I do.
Ouch. Ouch, ouch, ouch. I sit on the window casing to swing my other leg through, then peer at the sloping ground beneath. It’s a bit further down than it was on the inside, but I can jump.
The delicious notes of Dr. Hunk’s voice cease. Oh God, he’s coming back! It’s now or never.
Thank you, Dr. Hunk, but I just can’t discuss my female problems with you when being close to you makes me quiver like a Jello shot.
Please, forget you ever saw me here. And forget that my best friend and I call you Dr. Hunk behind your back.
I suck in a breath, hold it, and push off.
Matthias
It takes me two minutes to talk Jasmine through a Lego extraction on her five-year old, Oliver, and ten more minutes to calm her down.
My bear tugs on me the whole time, wanting me to get back to Maisy.
The caramel apple scent has faded by the time I walk down the hall, and I know before I open the door what happened.
Sure enough, there’s a pink backpack decorated with a beaded daisy–Maisy’s bag. But no sign of her.
My patient escaped.
This is exactly what I was afraid would happen. I’ve tried to be calm and rein in my bear around her. She’s already nervous around me. Whenever I get close, her cheeks flare with color, and she starts dropping things.
It’s adorable.
Something in her bag buzzes. Her phone. I pull it out and see it’s an unknown number with a Nevada area code. Looks like the same Nevada number has called her a bunch, too, but never left a message.
My bear growls. I don’t like that someone’s pestering her. Who would be calling her like this?
Now I’m snooping shamelessly. Her journal is here too, under her bag.
It’s open to a page where she’s tracked her symptoms in neat script.
The scientist in me admires her methodical tracking of her cycle and pain.
There’s enough data here for me to prescribe her pain meds immediately although I will schedule her for a nurse’s appointment tomorrow for an examination.
I’ll make a note on Maisy’s chart that I strongly recommend Nancy talk to her about getting on birth control to help manage her hormones.
That will be a start. It’s not enough to satisfy my bear, but I can assure him we’ll watch over her. She won’t be in pain again, not on our watch.
My bear briefly recommends killing everyone who’s treated her poorly, including the person blowing up her phone.
Maybe later, I will tell him. We don’t want to distress her any more than we already have. Those are the magic words that get him to settle down.
Everything in me wants to read her journal, but it’s wrong to violate her privacy. In a minute, I’ll close it and put it in her bag. But first, I bring the paper to my nose and inhale her scent.
A piece of paper falls out and flutters to the floor. I pick it up and can’t help glancing at the flowing script. She used a purple pen to write New Year’s Resolutions at the top.
Glow up
Dr. appointment for PCOS
Plan DD expansion
Set boundaries with Allen
Set boundaries with Allen? Who the fuck is Allen, and why does she need to set boundaries with him?
My bear roars to the surface, ready to savage the guy who’s upsetting my mate.
Then I remember something I learned in my extensive stalking of my gorgeous mate: Allen is the name of her father.
He’s a drug addict like her mom was. So, it makes sense she’d need to set boundaries with him.
I make a mental note to find out what the asshole is doing to her right now that requires a better boundary.
Then I finish reading the last two items on her list:
Stand up for yourself!!! You can do it!
Go on a date
The second-to-last one on the list is underlined multiple times and makes me smile. My little human is being brave.
But it’s the last one that gets me. I can’t imagine her asking someone out on a date–my bear won’t allow me to even entertain the thought.
Maybe I can be her fairy godbear and make all her dreams come true.
No. No, I can’t. It would push my control too far. Even with the Moon Cure. My lust for Maisy is still there, it’s just muted. And when the dose wears off, my bear will be all the more wild.
I make a decision and pull out my phone. I can’t call Maisy–she left her phone here, but she lives with her grandmother, Daisy, who has been calling me nonstop since lunch.
“Dr. Matthias!” Daisy answers on the first ring. “I'm so glad you called me.”
“Daisy, I need–” I try to take control of the conversation before she launches into planning the Bad Bear Winterfest.
“You need to see Maisy,” she interrupts in a rush.
“What?” Daisy is the mayor of our small town, and every conversation I’d had with her in the past few years has been about either her health or some Bad Bear municipal crisis.
“She's been in so much pain. I’ve told her to go to the clinic, but she won’t, and I think you need to do a house call–”
“I'm actually calling about Maisy. Is she with you?”
Daisy sucks in a breath. “Did she call you? Did you examine her? Do you–”
“That’s confidential,” I shut her down firmly. “Even if it wasn’t a HIPAA violation, I’d never share a patient’s medical information with anyone but them.”
“But I’m her grandmother!”
“Daisy,” I say in my doctor-dom voice. “Maisy is a grown woman. She can make her own choices about her medical care.”
Daisy sighs into the phone. “You're right.” She sounds calmer. “I've just been so worried.”
“Actually, I'm calling because I have Maisy's bag. She left it behind.”
“At the clinic?” Daisy sounds hopeful. “Never mind, you can’t tell me. She's here at the house. Got back a bit ago. You can drop it off.”
“Will do.” I say goodbye and hang up before Daisy starts rattling off Maisy’s symptoms one by one.
I’ve noticed that Daisy likes to be in charge and in everyone’s business.
It works for her as Mayor–she loves staying on top of all the town’s gossip and genuinely wants to make Bad Bear a better place.
But it’s not okay for her to run Maisy’s life as well. I get the feeling that Maisy’s lived in her namesake’s shadow for too long.
But I’m no better, am I? It’s bad enough that I read Maisy’s journal. If my bear had his way, I’d take over her whole life.
And make it better, my bear whispers. It’s a tempting thought.
But I can’t. I slammed that door shut the moment I realized Maisy was my mate. When she was still a teenager, and I was a full-grown bear with some very dark desires.
Which is why I’m not suitable for Maisy.
I pick up Maisy’s journal again and re-read the New Year's resolutions list.
Something about it makes my chest squeeze. She’s so innocent. So pure.
I can’t sully her.
She may be an adult now, but she’s still fragile. Keeping my distance is still best for both of us. She’s always overwhelmed by my presence, and I need to keep my bear under control. The Moon Cure compound only works so well.
She needs us, my bear rumbles.
It’s true. She’s in pain, and she came to me. Sure, she meant to see the nurse, but Fate intervened and made sure she ended up in my arms. Now I can’t forget how good it felt to have her there.
How right.
Except it’s not right. A man like me–with tastes like mine–could so easily steamroll a sweet young woman like Maisy. And it would be a gross abuse of power.
So no. No matter how delicious it was to be the man in charge of Maisy for those few minutes I had her in my exam room–that role can never be mine.
At least not for many more years. Not until she’s a confident, mature woman who knows what she wants and how to get it. If that ever happens. Then, if she chooses me, I’ll unleash the feral part of me that wants to absolutely consume her.