Scrubbing In (Love on the Cutting Edge #1)
Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
Julian
“I liked the second house we saw, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to buy a place,” I say through a yawn as I step out of the hotel lobby.
My best friend makes an agreeing sound on the other end of the phone.
“I do plan on settling in Bayberry Park, it’s just now I’m thinking renting for a while might be better. ”
The last few days, I have been on the go nonstop.
Normally when I finish a long shift at the hospital, I go home and pass out.
However, yesterday morning, I finished a seventy-two-hour rotation at the hospital, headed straight for the airport to catch a flight to Congaree Falls, South Carolina, and made the one-hour drive to Bayberry Park.
When I got to town, my childhood-best-friend-turned-realtor had a couple of house tours lined up, making the day feel that much longer.
Now I’m desperate for a good cup of coffee so I can make sure my meeting with the head of the Orthopedic Trauma Surgical Department and a few upper-level hospital administrators goes well.
I’m in town for a formal in-person meeting to finalize my hiring at Palmetto Regional Medical Center.
If everything goes to plan, by the end of this trip, I hope to have a finalized contract reflecting the negotiations that have been ongoing after I had been formally offered the position last month.
Looking up and down the tree-lined street, I’m startled by a child whizzing by on a scooter, narrowly avoiding a collision with a delivery man hurrying across the sidewalk to the truck idling at the curb.
A harried young woman throws an apology over her shoulder as she chases after him.
When she catches up to the little guy, I assume by her gestures she is scolding him and trying to herd him inside a nearby door.
“If you’re not sure about putting in an offer on anything, I can pull together some short and long term rentals you can look at,” Jace says through the phone.
My eyes catch on a wooden sign with a pyrographed manual coffee grinder that sways on the breeze above the door the duo just entered.
With some time free until I’m due to meet the physician recruiter, I amble my way up the sidewalk to Grind House.
“But, dude, you’re planning on being back in town within a month.
If you don’t want to add the stress of making a decision, I’ve told you, my condo has plenty of room.
You can stay as long as you want and still be close to the hospital. ”
Jace has repeatedly offered to let me stay with him.
It’s just that I've gotten used to living alone since I moved to Philadelphia four years ago for my Orthopedic Trauma and Sports Medicine fellowships.
I liked the hospital and Philly so much that when I completed my training, I signed on as an attending physician.
However, I had purposefully put off committing to an extension because I was eager to pursue this next chapter of my career. That, and I’ve wanted to be closer to my family again.
When I was younger, I craved getting out of our small town of Saltmeadow Point and living on my own.
But being away from my parents and siblings for so long has been much harder than I ever expected.
We’ve remained close despite the distance, however with this opportunity at Palmetto Regional, I will be less than a two-hour drive north in Bayberry Park.
Sighing as I walk up the street, I respond, “You’re probably right. Had these negotiations fallen through, I would have been living in short-term rentals anyways.”
It could have been considered a gamble to put in my resignation without a concrete plan in place, but my back-up plan was to take travel assignments around the southeast coast as a locum provider until I found a permanent position somewhere I was happy with and close to home.
Pulling open the door handle to the coffee shop and stepping inside, I’m hit with the smell of freshly brewed coffee and sugary syrups.
The sound of the bell overhead is almost drowned out by the noise immediately bombarding me. Wincing at the overwhelming echo in the large industrial space with exposed brick and ducting, I pause and allow my eyes to adjust after the bright summer sun.
Glancing around, I take in the matte black metal and glass garage-style doors that open onto a walled-in playground along the back.
Spying the scooter-rider from the sidewalk draws the corners of my lips up.
My gaze connects with a woman blatantly checking me out, unaware she is holding up the line to order.
My small smile transforms into a full smirk at her.
Then the tiny thing at the end of the line follows the woman’s eyeline in my direction, clearly curious about the woman’s obvious distraction.
Everything else dims and is forgotten because I’m immediately ensnared by large, alluring eyes so beautiful that they threaten to knock me out.
Unable to break eye contact with the pint-sized beauty, I feel as if I’ve walked into a brick wall, frozen in place while my heart speeds up and my mouth goes dry. I try to swallow, but my tongue feels thick and glued to the roof of my mouth.
With great effort, I force my eyes to scan the rest of her, needing to catalog every feature and commit it to memory.
Pint-sized is right—she must only be a few inches over five feet tall.
Her long, chocolate brown hair is shiny and curly.
When she catches me staring, full pink lips open in a surprised gasp and a blush creeps up her neck, staining her high cheek bones.
There is a delicate gold hoop in one nostril of her pert nose.
She has the brightest green eyes I have ever seen, ringed by dark, long lashes and perfectly arched brows. I’m mesmerized.
“—family visiting,” Jace is saying in my ear, snapping me back to reality and the conversation we were in the middle of.
With a small shake of my head, I tell Jace, “I’m gonna have to call you back.” Then I disconnect the call in the middle of his response.
Spell broken, the gorgeous woman quickly turns around and the loss of eye contact brings me back to myself, but I feel out of sorts and at a loss without being the sole focus of those jewel-toned eyes. Slipping my phone into my pocket, I step into line behind her.
It’s not that I haven’t seen an attractive woman before, because attractive women are everywhere. But something is different about this woman, and there is no explanation for why this moment feels different.
She looks back at me again, her teeth digging into her full bottom lip, and I see her blush has deepened. The relief I feel knowing she is not unaffected by me has me grinning at her. She instantly averts her eyes to the door behind me.
I wonder if she is waiting for someone to join her. The thought that it may be a possible—my eyes dart to her left hand, no ring—boyfriend, instantly makes me annoyed.
It soon becomes evident she is looking for someone because her gaze periodically sweeps the sidewalk beyond the large glass windows.
But each time she turns around, I’m hypnotized by her doe eyes and shy smile.
I almost don’t even notice how slow the line is moving.
I want to talk to her, but can’t seem to find the words to start a conversation.
I can’t help that with every shy turn, I notice her bearing and perfect posture—it lends an air of quiet strength and confidence in the way she carries herself. I find it makes her even more appealing.
When our eyes aren’t locked together, I use the opportunity to fully check her out, my eyes inching down her body.
She’s wearing a sleeveless purple crop top, revealing a sliver of smooth-looking skin my fingers long to touch, paired with khaki shorts that show off her tight ass and trim legs, and Converse sneakers.
With the advantage of my height, when she is angled toward me, her cleavage is visible.
Captivated by her petite and sexy body, my pulse roars through my veins. With a deep breath, I banish the incredibly inappropriate thoughts from my mind.
The next time she looks my way, I decide to test the waters.
With a tip of my head, I deliberately move to hold her eyes and give a confident grin.
The color deepens on her cheeks, but she doesn’t look away.
Instead, she smiles sweetly at me. After a drawn-out moment and a coquettish sweep of her lash, she turns back around.
Fully absorbed in this woman and our silent exchange—shy but interested from her, rapt and playful from me—I hear a gasp of distress escape when she pulls her phone out and looks at the screen.
Hesitant to invade her privacy but wanting to ensure she is okay, I’m about to ask if everything is alright when the customer in front of her moves away from the counter.
A bored-looking employee behind the register calls, “Next.”
Shoving her phone in her pocket, she looks up and around, seeming extremely distracted, but she moves forward. “Oh . . . Um . . . I’ll—I’ll have a medium vanilla breve latte, extra shot, please.”
Reaching for my wallet, I’m wondering if I can pay for her drink as my opening when I am suddenly slammed from behind. The impact sends me careening forward, right toward the goddess in front of me.