Chapter 8 #2
Heat flooded Grier’s face, chest, and neck, mercifully hidden beneath the front her dress. She guzzled her water, quickly attempting to cool her rising body heat. She could feel the captain’s gaze on her. Did she ever stop staring? She needed to catch her breath, and a moment to regain her poise.
The captain silently led them to an unoccupied cocktail table near the bar.
“I know you speak,” she said, her grin sly and inviting as she leaned in just enough to bridge the height difference. “Mind contributing to the conversation a bit? I’m feeling a tad one-sided.”
Grier stiffened, but found her voice. “Yes. I do speak. Forgive me while I find my bearings—I never anticipated I’d speak to you again.” She was harsher than she intended, but not untruthful.
The captain’s face remained friendly, as if she had expected something along these lines. Grier respected her for not feigning innocence.
“I deserve that.”
That’s it? No explanation? Maybe her respect was premature. Surely she’d offer some reasonable answer as to why she hadn’t called.
“Why?”
The captain furrowed her brow. “Why do I deserve your ire? Or why did I not call?”
“Yes.”
“One-word answers,” the captain chuckled, though the sound came out tight.
Good, Grier thought. Let her sweat.
“You’re not going to make this easy, I see.”
Grier held her ground silently. She didn’t need to beg for an explanation. The captain would answer—or she wouldn’t—and that would direct the remainder of the evening.
The captain swirled the remaining water in her glass, preparing her case. She set it gently on the table but maintained her grip on it, buoying herself. Slowly, she raised her eyes and found Grier’s. “I’m afraid.”
Grier’s breath caught in her chest. Those green eyes were roiling and sincere.
Honesty was the best approach, but this was raw.
The captain’s body emanated poise and confidence, yet the strain in her shoulders betrayed the anxiety beneath.
This wasn’t the same woman Grier had met last week—the one who had flirted and then deflected.
Her veneer was cracking, and Grier wanted to chisel away at it, gently, until she revealed the truth of spirit that lay beneath. She had to tread carefully.
“Can you be a little more specific?” she coaxed softly.
“My accident—the one that hurt my arm and back—also hurt my relationships. Relationship.” She corrected herself, then pressed on.
“I haven’t dated seriously since.” The captain maintained eye contact, allowing Grier to search for the deeper truth in her words.
“My career has its hazards. And the accident created a secondary victim of my partner at the time. She couldn’t handle the risk, so we separated.
There’s still a lot of hurt. And the risk of creating another casualty of a relationship because of my career is… staggering.”
Grier searched the captain’s eyes. The honesty of the captain’s words hit her with a warmth that spread from her core to all of her limbs.
She’d clearly been hurt, but more striking was her refusal to obscure the pain.
Grier had to stop herself from reaching out, from offering the comfort of her hand. They weren’t there—yet.
“I’m… thank you. You didn’t have to be that honest, and I am genuinely sorry for what happened to you. And your relationship.” Grier dropped her gaze, the weight of everything she wanted to ask suddenly making her feel small.
“I didn’t tell you that for your pity,” the captain said quietly. “I told you because it’s the truth. Communication is the keystone of any relationship. You were boldly honest in our first meeting. I felt I owed you the same.”
Grier listened carefully, trying to gauge if there was more meaning behind her words. If they were going to trade in brutal honesty, she had to ask the one question gnawing at her.
“Are you still in love with your ex?”
Green eyes locked on hers, imploring her to believe the answer. “No.”
Grier exhaled.
“Relieved?” The corner of the captain’s mouth tilted into that maddeningly smug smile.
Grier tightened her posture, raising her head in confidence.
Finally, she felt safe enough to banter again.
“You can’t be surprised I’d want to know.
Nor that I’m relieved. As you already pointed out, I was bold last week.
” She drew a steadying breath. “I’ll be direct: I’m attracted to you.
To your body, obviously. And I find that I’m quickly becoming attracted to the mind it houses.
You carry yourself with a confidence most people probably assume is your nature.
I see you for that—but I also read the tells your body is failing to cover.
I’d like to see if you’ll lower that facade for me. ”
“Candid,” the captain stated flatly, staring at her unashamed. “To a fault.”
Grier shifted, angling her body toward the captain as she rounded the table. She bent forward, brushing a cheek against Grier’s. The soft contact sent chills up Grier’s spine. Heat radiated from the captain’s chest, far too close and still with far too much clothing between them.
Hot, breathy words ghosted against her ear: “Give me your phone.”
Grier blinked. What? Did she miss something? Her phone?
Before she could ask, the captain drew back just enough—hips pressing into hers and instantly causing her to heat.
“Oh, I’m sorry. You didn’t think we were done with the seduction yet, did you?”
Teasing. She was teasing her. This felt closer to torture.
Grier pressed her lips together, defiant, and dropped her phone into the captain’s hands—deliberately avoiding contact in the process.
The captain held the phone up to Grier’s face to unlock it, found her Contacts app, created a new contact and then sent a text message.
She handed the phone back, running the pad of her thumb along the sensitive inside of Grier’s wrist as they connected, causing Grier to become suddenly weak in the knees.
Grier looked at her phone and chuckled when she saw the text message the captain had sent to her own phone.
GRIER—7:32 p.m.
Hot Captain
The lights flickered, interrupting them.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Aetheridge Children’s Hospital Annual Gala.
” The MC’s voice boomed over the chatter.
“If you would kindly make your way to your tables, dinner will begin shortly, and the awards will follow. Afterward, we invite you to stay for a night of celebration and dancing.”
“I guess I’ll see you later,” Grier said, a question hidden within. “Save a dance for me?” The captain asked, lacking her usual confidence.
“I mean, I can. But full disclosure—I’m a terrible dancer. My hips lie!” Grier averted her eyes, mildly embarrassed at her admission.
The captain confidently slid her hand onto Grier’s hip, the pad of her thumb digging suggestively just inside her pelvic bone and sending a welcome sting of promise directly to her clit.
Grier gasped audibly as the captain leaned in again, eyes fixed on Grier’s mouth as her own curled into a ravenous grin.
But she skipped past Grier’s impatient lips once again.
Her whisper came hot and deliberate against Grier’s ear: “I’ll be the judge of how much your hips lie.”
Her lips brazenly grazed the tender skin behind Grier’s ear as she pressed her thumb deeper into Grier’s lower abdomen… then walked away.
Grier watched her leave, the sound of her pulse drowning out the hum of the busy atrium. She watched as the captain pivoted on her impossibly sexy stilettos, then walk backward with predatory grace.
“Oh, and I hope you win!” she called, winking one green eye. Then she was gone.
In seconds, Alix and Maren flanked her.
“Details!” Maren squealed, unbothered by her own volume. “Tell me you got her number this time,” Alix implored.
Grier stood between them, still transfixed on the space where the captain had just been.
“Grier, honey? Are you okay?” Maren rubbed her shoulder, gently tugging her back to the present.
Grier shook her head, still replaying the last few minutes. “Did that just happen?”
“Yas, Queen! Now tell us what she said, tell us what you said. Tell us everything!” Alix pleaded.
They steered her to their table as the servers prepared for dinner, and Grier did her best to recount the conversation in a low voice, careful not to carry over to Delta’s attentive ears.
“I knew it!” Alix nearly shouted, restraint barely perceptible. “That dress got her attention! Six hours of shopping—worth every second!”
“You do look gorgeous tonight, Grier,” Maren added. “I’ll give credit where it’s due—Alix has an eye for seduction.”
Alix patted their own shoulders in an effervescent display of self-aggrandizement.
“Ah thank you, thank you.” Alix gave a dramatic little bow from where they sat, reveling in the praise.
By the time dessert plates landed, the awards presentation was ready to begin.
The first honoree was welcomed after a brief video showcasing the new helipads and highlighting the recent helicopter tours.
Captain Parrish was invited to the stage to receive the award and offer a few remarks about the hospital’s growth and her SAR fleet.
Off-stage, Grier caught sight of Captain Maes snapping photos of the proceedings—and damn, she looked as good from behind as she did head on. Grier chewed on her lower lip, transfixed by the casual grace of her movements.
A hand squeezed her thigh. She startled, turning to find Maren smiling knowingly.
Grier’s nerves edged towards feral, her restless energy caged while she sat, waiting for the final award of the night, the Physician of the Year Award.
Her heel tapped a feral rhythm under the table, shaking the linens.
Maren’s hand settled against her knee, steadying.
This time she added an encouraging wink. “You got this,” she whispered.
“Have you seen Vanders anywhere?” Alix asked, rotating their head like a hawk. “I want to watch that smug bastard’s smile fade when your name is called.”