Chapter 3
three
. . .
Maggie
“Owwww.”
My head is pounding, and why is it so bright in here? I blink once, twice, and then a third time before the light moves, and I figure I must be in heaven.
Because an angel is before me.
The most striking man, with deep brown eyes, dark curls falling into his eyes, and the most intriguing nose, is the only thing I can see.
His brows are pulled in tight, worry creasing his beautiful face.
I am not proud of this, but my last main male character’s nose was based on this nose.
It’s narrow, but it’s rounded at the tip, like a little teddy bear nose on a massive hunk of a man’s body.
“Holy shit, Dr. Do-My-Body-Good?”
His eyes widen just a fraction before the most devastating smirk pulls at his full lips.
I hear coughing before my mom tries to save me. “Dr. Aldridge, love.”
“What did I say?” I ask, unable to pull my gaze from his. Everything feels like it’s moving at half speed, but I have a feeling that’s not from the head injury. You know that giddy feeling you get when you see a hot guy? The little wiggle you do before you blush as red as a fire hydrant?
Yeah, that’s how this man makes me feel.
Dr. Aldridge is still grinning. “Not that, but we’ll chalk that moment of confusion up to one heck of a head injury.”
I’m sure I’m supposed to agree—hell, I’m supposed to say something—but all I can do is stare.
He has such soul-deep brown eyes, thick black lashes, and that damn nose that I can fully admit I’m obsessed with.
My eyes trail along the sharp lines of his face.
He is always so clean-shaven and put together.
I’ve only admired him from afar, but this close, I can see the indent in his cheek.
An old injury? He doesn’t seem like the type to play hockey or even any sports.
Not that I would know. He is a very private man.
Dr. Aldridge is my neighbor. Our storefronts share a wall, as do our living rooms, but that doesn’t mean we speak.
He waves but then heads the other way very quickly.
He doesn’t go to the bar or even the town events, which is unheard of since Holiday Ridge is known for our town festivals that celebrate every single holiday.
He’s been here a year, and I only get to enjoy him by watching him walk away.
Not that I’m complaining. He fills out his slacks very nicely.
But this close…this face?
I died, right? I’m in heaven?
He runs a damp cloth along my temple and tsks. “That sculpture got you good.”
I smile. “I don’t have the best track record with cocks.”
“Jesus, Mags,” my mother groans.
But Dr. Aldridge’s grin grows more. Lines appear by his eyes, and a little wrinkle appears on his nose as his teeth blind me, they’re so white. Or maybe I’m super concussed.
“That’s unfortunate.”
I nod. “To say the least. I really do love cock.”
My mom is horrified. “Maggie! Please!”
His laughter is deep and rumbles in his chest. I want to lean in and press my ear to his pec so I can feel his laughter against my cheek. I feel it as he drags the cloth down my temple and along my jaw before dropping it to the pile by his thigh. “Good to know.”
I pinch my brows. “Good to know what?”
“That you love a good cock.” His face is bright red, even his ears, but he doesn’t look away like he usually does. Not only is he looking deep into my eyes, but he’s actually talking to me. I feel like I’m flying.
Again, that could be the head injury talking.
Shit, but what if this is all made-up? What if none of this is happening?
Before he can answer me, I pinch his arms and he yelps.
Did I really just pinch this man?
“Did you just pinch me?”
I nod, though my vision swims a little. “I did. You never talk to me.”
His blush deepens. “I do.”
“You don’t, and now we’re talking about good cock.”
“What makes it a good cock?” he asks, holding up the sculpture. “Girth or length?”
“Both. It’s all about the stretch.”
“Jesus Christ!”
I look at my mom. “Mom, he’s a medical professional. This is a regular Tuesday afternoon for him.”
Dr. Aldridge chuckles. “Well, unlike you, I don’t use the word cock when talking about the male anatomy. Nor do I see many, thankfully.”
I lean in conspiratorially. “Oh, so you don’t like cock?”
“What in the world is going on!” Mom exclaims. “She is obviously injured. This is not normal behavior.”
I raise a brow. “It’s not? I talk about cock a lot. I use the word at least a hundred times a day.”
Dr. Aldridge chuckles as Mom grimaces. “Okay, maybe it is. But surely you need X-rays and stitches.”
He nods. “She does. And now that you’re conscious and talking, let’s head over to my clinic.”
I push out my bottom lip. “But I don’t want stitches.”
Dr. Aldridge smiles that gorgeous smile before Mom says, “You need them. Maybe closing up that hole will make you think before you speak.”
His chuckle causes red-hot heat in my gut as he stands then reaches for me.
The moment I take his hands, I feel static electricity up my arms. Now, I’ve written that feeling plenty of times, but I’ve never felt it myself.
As my fingers lock with his and he lifts me to my feet, I watch how he looks me over, making sure I am okay, before sliding his hand to the small of my back. “Ready?”
I hesitate. “Not really. Don’t like needles.”
He rubs my back smoothly. “I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry.”
Why do his words leave me breathless? Or maybe it’s the head injury because my knees give out, and I’m falling.
Until I’m not. With an ease that I’ve never experienced in my life, Dr. Aldridge picks me up in a bridal carry as if I’m not a full-grown woman but as light as a feather.
Okay, so Dr. Do-My-Body-Good doesn’t play a sport, but he sure as hell doesn’t miss gym time.
Our eyes meet, and my lips part just slightly.
His eyes track the movement, and I’m left squeezing my thighs together.
I have really never spoken more than three words to this guy, and now, he’s coming in here and making me swoon like a real-life book boyfriend.
What. Is. Happening?
And how can I make it so it never stops?
“Got you,” he says quietly, and like a fool, I nod.
“Thanks.”
He inhales deeply and then heads out the door toward the clinic.
Once we enter, Tenille is fussing over me, asking tons of questions, while Dr. Aldridge’s dog barks and yips behind us.
My mom is speaking for me, and I’m thankful for that because all I want to do is enjoy being in this man’s arms. I’m so touch-starved that I have to soak this up in case it never happens again.
And really, I’d rather not get knocked out by a stone cock and need stitches ever again.
But staring at Dr. Do-My-Body-Good?
Yeah, I want to do that.