Doctor’s Secret Match (Pulse Point #1)

Chapter 1

Adrian

I’m parked in the middle of the road after driving for hours, leaving my old life behind. It’s a chilly Sunday afternoon, and I find myself under attack from an aggressive bunch of turkeys.

They’re strutting across the road, completely unfazed by my presence, gobbling like they own the place.

Looking straight at me, they stop right in front of the Welcome to Pulse Point sign.

I sit in my car, trying to make sense of how ridiculous this is, questioning whether I should get the hell out of the road or try to scare them off.

But there are too many to count, and one even starts pecking at my bumper.

No way am I going to sit here any longer and wait. The turkeys need to move so I can drive. This is me taking control and facing whatever comes next head-on.

I push the door open and step outside, the cold air hitting my face. I don’t move at first, even as I stand there, staring them down. Just as I start to wonder how to handle this crazy situation, wings flap hard beside me and a blur of feathers flashes past.

“What the—” My pulse rises, and I turn just in time to see the damn thing hopping onto the driver’s seat. I’m about to close the door, but it’s too late… It’s already made itself at home. And of course, I’m driving a Mercedes-Benz with doors that open like wings. Fucking great.

My hands rest on my hips as I switch my gaze between the turkey in my car and the others edging closer. If I lock the turkey in there, it’s sure to make a mess, but if I leave the door open, I could end up with all his friends inside.

Waving my arms, I lunge forward. “Go on, move!” I shout, but the turkey in the driver’s seat doesn’t budge.

Of course, I expected that to work… at least a little.

But the damn bird just stares at me like I’m the idiot.

As a last-ditch effort, I let out a weak gobble…

Don’t ask me why. The other turkeys respond with even louder gobbles and march toward me.

A groan slips out of me as frustration bubbles to the surface. This is absolutely absurd.

My mind races through the possibilities. What the hell am I supposed to do? I press my palms against my temples, trying to think clearly over the gobbles.

Fucking hell.

I’m tired, cranky, and desperately want to sit down with a drink after an incredibly long day. Most of my stuff is in storage, but everything that actually matters is crammed into that car, and if that turkey makes a mess, I’ll have nothing left.

Pulling out my phone, I check for service… Nothing. Not that I even know who I’d call. Animal control? AAA? Maybe Issac, my friend, just so someone can laugh at this with me. I can’t even Google how to remove a turkey from a Mercedes.

What the fuck is wrong with this place?

I shove my phone back into my pocket just as the sound of an engine revs. Hope fills me as a blue Toyota Corolla pulls over and out jumps a woman wearing a blue New York Yankees hat, matching leggings, and a fitted tank top.

Perhaps she’s from around here. Which means she’s probably dealt with turkey standoffs before. Maybe things are about to get better.

“Looks like you’ve got yourself a problem here.” She glances at the turkeys.

A smartass. Great.

“You think?” I cross my arms.

She bursts out laughing, and for a second, my shoulders drop, the tension in my neck easing against my will. It’s not funny, but her laugh is so damn infectious that even I can’t help but crack a smile. Maybe the problem lies with my car. Perhaps they can sense I’m not a local.

“Do you know how to get rid of them?” I point to the one in my car.

“What kind of car is this?” she asks, raising an eyebrow, confusion flickering across her face.

Is she serious? It’s a Mercedes-Benz SLS AMG… How does she not know that? I guess it’s a sign of just how far I am from New York.

“A Mercedes.” I glance at my sleek, high-tech car that’s fetching compliments everywhere I go. But right now, I’m seriously regretting it. It’s not built for these situations. I really wish I had something that I have zero pride in protecting instead.

“This one right here?” She points to the turkey in my car. “He’s the king of the flock.” She doesn’t hesitate, her tone matter-of-fact. “You need to nudge him away for the rest to follow.”

Nudge him? Right. I doubt it’s that simple. He looks like he’ll peck my face off.

I raise an eyebrow, wondering how she knows that, but it makes sense. The big guy’s puffed up, while the others keep their distance, waiting for him to make the first move.

As I lock eyes with her, something sparks: a challenge in her gaze that draws me in and dares me not to back down.

A smile lingers on her lips, as if the entire situation is a big joke to her.

My attention drops to her athletic build, and for a split second, I wonder how she finds this so amusing while I’m stuck in this nightmare.

I shake my head and draw my focus back to the turkey in the front seat, now preening its feathers like it’s got all the time in the world.

The rest of the flock stands by, watching, as if they’re waiting for some kind of signal to move.

If that signal is all aboard! I’m screwed.

If it’s attack the new guy, I’m really fucking screwed.

Still, I square my shoulders. I didn’t pack up my entire life and move to a new town just to be outsmarted by a fucking turkey.

So, if the plan is to nudge him, then fine… I’m going in.

“Okay, so how do we get him and the rest to go? What do I need to do to make him leave?”

She bends into her car, and my eyes involuntarily glance down at her ass before I force myself to look away.

“Sorry, Russell, this is all I have today.” She pulls something out of her car.

I snort. “The turkey has a fucking name?”

“Yeah, Russell’s definitely the star around here.”

“You’d be better off cooking him.” As if he hears my words, Russell waddles out of my car and right up to her, flashing me a look that says he’s more confident than I am… Great.

With a deliberate move, she tosses something to him, and he happily pecks at it before she dusts off her hands, a satisfied smile spreading across her face as the other turkeys scatter off the road. “I’m assuming you’re heading into town?”

“Yeah.”

“Get in quick!” she yells, hopping back into her car. I hesitate for a moment, glancing at the feathers scattered everywhere, and a strong, musky odor hanging in the air. With no time to clean my seat, I ignore it, grumbling under my breath as I jump back in, quickly slamming the door behind me.

She takes off, her car zipping down the road, and I follow, focusing on the way the turkeys disappear in the rearview mirror. Relieved to leave them behind, I lose sight of the Corolla but keep my attention on the directions I need to get to Keith’s, my dad’s best friend’s, place.

I cruise through town, playing “More Than A Feeling,” my father’s favorite song, which brings me comfort, turning it up as I take in the wide sidewalks, the vibrant storefronts, and the bare trees lining the road with their autumn leaves falling.

A few small businesses catch my eye… like an old-fashioned bakery with a hand-painted sign and a cozy café with tables spilling out onto the sidewalk.

There are trucks and SUVs here, blending seamlessly with the charm of the town. Which makes me feel out of place.

Pulling into a long driveway, my mouth opens at the sight of Keith’s white weatherboard house with its green tile roof.

It looks like paradise compared to what I’ve left behind.

It’s surrounded by lush trees, and a big fountain in the front garden with flowers around it.

You don’t get that kind of welcome at a New York condo.

After I park, turn off the engine, and step out, I can’t even be bothered to be concerned about the mess from the turkey or even gathering my bags because the front door swings open. All I want to do is say hello.

As I approach, a friendly smile greets me. It’s a familiar face… with gray hair, black-rimmed glasses, and a gray beard. Something tightens in my chest. I hadn’t realized how much I missed seeing someone who actually knows me.

“Adrian, so nice to see you. It’s been too long.

” Keith wraps his arms around me. At first, I’m stiff with surprise, but as his warmth seeps in, I settle into the embrace.

My muscles relax, and I return the hug with a firm grip.

The last time I saw him was at my dad’s funeral—a moment that now feels like a lifetime ago. When it’s only been a year.

I step out of the hug and roll my shoulders, trying to release the stress of the last few weeks. Pretend I’m just tired from the road and not everything else.

“How was your drive?” Keith looks at me with fatherly concern.

“Long.” I meet his gaze for a second, then look away, forcing a shrug. Because long is easier than I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.

“Where’s all your stuff?” He gestures toward the trunk of my car.

“I left it in the car.”

“Let’s go grab it.” He starts down the path, and I follow. He’s acting like this is just another normal day, but I’m bracing for the comment of is that it?

I open the trunk and pull out a couple of cases and bags.

Keith’s brow creases. “Where’d the rest of your stuff go?”

“In storage for now.” So is my old life. I follow him back to the house and into my new life. “When I find a place here, I’ll have it all moved.”

“Good idea. There are a few places up for sale. I’ll happily take you to check them out when you’re ready.”

“I’m in no rush. I just want to get settled here and work.”

The heaviness of my past still eats at me.

“Of course. Just let me know when you’re ready. Meanwhile, it’ll be good having someone around.” He pats me on the shoulder.

It hits me—the raw vulnerability in his words. He lost his wife, Sage, a few months before my dad passed, and I know that pain of loneliness all too well… being an only child and losing both my parents.