Chapter 7
Seven
“Tobin, I’m doing your hair. Accept it,” Harrow said, perched across from her, watching her prep their dinner.
“I don’t need you to do my hair, Harrow. I’m wearing a tux, I can stick it in a low bun and call it good. Not worth the effort.”
“It is worth the effort—especially if Dr. Savage is going to be there. She’s up for that award, right? Which means she’ll be dressed to the nines, and you need to match her efforts.”
“Now I’m definitely not letting you near my head. She has nothing to do with how I’m dressing, and she shouldn’t influence any of my actions that night. I’m there for Eddie. For Eddie’s recognition.”
“You and I both know Eddie will pawn you off on literally anyone who shows the slightest interest. Do yourself a favor—make a deliberate choice and connect with the doctor. At least then it’s your choice. Besides… you’re hot for her. These walls are thin, sister. Don’t think I haven’t heard you.”
Tobin flushed hot, throat and cheeks burning, and hurled a slice of bell pepper at Harrow. It landed in her hair instead of square on her forehead.
“Don‘t be a brat. You should be getting off! I stalked her on the hospital’s website—she’s hot! If you didn’t have dibs, I might try to casually run into her,” Harrow taunted.
Another piece of pepper sailed across the counter. This one hit its mark. Harrow blinked dramatically, plucked the piece off her shirt, and chomped into it, accentuating the snap as it echoed in her mouth.
“I deserved that,” she admitted through a grin. “You know I’m kidding. But I’m one-hundred percent serious about dressing to catch her eye on Saturday.”
Tobin kept chopping, ignoring the burn of Harrow’s gaze. She knew her sister was just trying to help, but everyone’s sudden investment in her personal life was adding so much pressure to her, trying to force a romance that she wasn’t certain she wanted and was less certain she was capable of.
Tobin had absolutely caved to her physical needs more than usual this past week—and Dr. Savage was the centerfold of her imaginings.
Gods, she wanted to slip her tongue through the little pendant resting at the hollow of the doctor’s throat, taste the salt of her skin, feel the heat of it against her lips.
She wanted the pleasure of the doctor’s consent vibrating through her throat as Tobin trailed kisses from the necklace up to the irresistible dimple in her chin.
Her center fluttered as her mind wandered.
And wander it did. She recalled her most recent fantasy, using her captain’s tie to bind and tease—first slipping it over the doctor’s eyes, then securing her wrists, denying her touch.
Tobin imagined the way she’d strain against the tie, begging to run her fingers through Tobin’s hair and hold tight, to guide Tobin to the most sensational parts of her pleasure, and climbing gradually to her release.
Shit. She was soaked—and she couldn’t go change. Harrow would notice and she’d renew her recalcitrant pleas for Tobin’s pursuit of the doctor.
A piece of bell pepper hit Tobin in the chest. She looked up, startled—she’d been so focused on her fantasies she’d missed what Harrow had said.
“Get out of your head, and get her in your bed. I know that look. Don’t even try to deny it.”
“Fine. She’s hot as hell, clearly interested in me, and I’d be an idiot to let the chance go. Is that what you want to hear?” Tobin deadpanned.
“Yes. But with emotion behind it. Don’t tell me what I want to hear. Say what you mean.”
“I have been saying what I mean. You and Eddie are just blatantly refusing to hear me. I don’t want a relationship. I want a baby. I don’t want to get hurt. I don’t want to hurt someone else. Hear me, please! I’m tired of this conversation.”
Harrow’s shoulders fell. “I think your body and your mind are asking for two different things, T. What if you just had a little fun before your fertility treatments? If it’s only physical, you can part ways before your appointments.
If you happen to fall madly in love… would it be so bad to go through the fertility process with a partner? Isn’t that your ideal scenario?”
“In a perfect world, sure. But this one’s a giant dumpster fire, and I don’t want to risk hurting anyone—even if it’s just physical.
Which it never is. Someone always falls.
Feelings always get shredded. It’s the whole forbidden fruit thing.
I need to be in the best emotional state possible before fertility treatments, and juggling a new relationship on top of that sounds stressful and all-consuming. I don’t want it.”
Harrow sighed, conceding. “Fine. But I’m still doing your hair—if for no other reason than it feels good to have someone massage your scalp and make you feel beautiful.”
“I would have let you do my hair without a fight if you’d led with that argument,” Tobin retorted. “You gotta learn your audience, little sister.”
A second piece of pepper hit Tobin square on the forehead. Tobin snorted playfully. “Get out of my kitchen! Go start a fire. I’ll bring the food out when it’s ready.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re impossible?” Harrow smiled over her shoulder as she headed for the basement stairs to access the patio and fire pit.
“Yeah, you. About every day since you learned how to talk.” Tobin had to raise her voice slightly as Harrow walked further away. Lower, she added, “And you’re not so agreeable yourself.”
Thirty minutes later, Tobin set down a tray of food on the patio table and accepted the sangria Harrow handed her.
“Probably a good idea to eat outside tonight, otherwise we might not get the chance. That storm is going to make camp here for the next day or two, from the sound of it.” Harrow sipped her wine as they both looked out over the lake, watching the storm clouds brewing as they stalked closer to the city.
“I’m on call the next two nights,” Tobin interjected quietly. “I never want to see people in danger, but I could use some activity to take my mind off things.”
“Careful what you wish for, sister.” Harrow eyed her knowingly before grabbing a plate of the farmer’s market linguine with shrimp from the tray Tobin brought down.
“Don’t I know it.”
They ate in silence, savoring the peace and inhaling the fresh scent of rain on the increasing wind coming in from the lake.
Tobin pushed her plate away, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. “I love the smell of rain on the wind.”
“It’s full of possibilities,” Harrow agreed, setting their empty plates on the tray and refilling their glasses with sangria.
“I’ve never quite understood how something so tumultuous can feel so calming and invigorating all at once. But I love it—the electricity, the way a storm can abruptly halt human activity while stirring its own torrent of emotions. It’s breathtaking.”
“You have quite a beautiful view of storms for someone whose job is literally to save the unfortunate souls who tempt nature.” No one could argue that Harrow wasn’t pragmatic.
“I think that’s part of why I love my job. Humans versus nature is a battle of sheer will. Mother Nature can flaunt her power, but the ego of humans to survive her fury is just as inspiring. And then the calm after the storm… it’s as beautiful as the tempest itself.”
“I think you missed your calling as a poet.”
Tobin laughed lightly. “Nah. I couldn’t stand people reading my inner thoughts. Too exposed. And I couldn’t give up flying—poets live through their pages; I get to live above them.”
Harrow murmured an unintelligible acknowledgment, raising her glass toward Tobin. “To tempests… and those who tempt them.”
Tobin twitched a lopsided smile and tipped her glass toward her sister’s.
She watched the clouds approach, feeling the temperature drop, and shifted closer to the fire for warmth.
Her mind raced, chasing thoughts of the future: fertility treatments, carrying a child, the life growing inside her.
She rested a hand on her belly, smiling to herself, already so full of love for a life that hadn’t even been created.
Despite the wandering thoughts she’d entertained this week, Dr. Savage was a distraction, and one she couldn’t afford to entertain any longer. Tobin knew what she wanted—she needed to refocus on the baby.
Thunder literally shuddered through her reflections, and drops of rain began to fall. The deck canopy kept them dry, but the sound of rain striking the house was sharp and steady.
Harrow gathered the dishes, readying to head inside. “I assume you’re staying out here for a while.” It was a statement.
“Yeah, I want to watch the sky for a bit.” “I figured.”
Her sister draped a blanket over Tobin’s shoulders and wrapped her in a comforting embrace. “Don’t overthink it, T. Sometimes you just have to let things happen and see where they take you.”
Tobin squeezed Harrow’s forearm, the only acknowledgement she could give in the moment. Harrow gave her one slight squeeze, grabbed the tray of food, and walked inside, leaving Tobin to her thoughts.
“Damn, Blur!” Eddie crooned, her eyes raking Tobin from toe to head. “Your legs!” She lingered predatorily, her gaze sliding down to Tobin’s heels and—well—her ass. Eddie giggled and delivered a firm, playful smack. Cipher was out tonight.
Tobin looked down at her satin emerald stilettos, selected to match the dress Eddie had chosen: a full-length black charmeuse gown embedded with emerald glitter that caught the light just so.
The off- the-shoulder sleeves draped elegantly, the fitted bodice accentuating her ample breasts, and the slit along the left thigh revealed toned, tanned legs whenever she cocked her hip.
Tobin offered a hand to Eddie and encouraged her to twirl, smiles lighting their faces. “We’ll be quite the pair tonight.”
“No shirt?” Eddie’s grin pinched up mischievously. “Glad to see you’ve changed your mind about catching the doctor’s eye tonight. “ Her excitement was restrained, but palpable.