Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
I chuckled. It wasn’t real, but it was what he needed to hear in order to release him from duty. “So just to recap, you’re against asphyxiation but cool with at-home brain surgery?”
Victory sang in my veins as his eyes lit with humor. “Don’t worry. I did a whole eight-week rotation in general surgery during med school. I’m totally qualified.”
“Well, next time, bring a drill. Who knows, a hole in my head might be exactly what I need.”
His smile fell before I was able to finish the thought.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I assured.
His scrutinizing gaze searched my face. “Are you having thoughts of self-harm again?”
“No,” I stated clearly and honestly. “Those days are long gone. I promise. You’re stuck with me until I’m old, gray, and incontinent. Okay?”
“You positive?”
I rested my hand over my heart. “I swear.”
It burned the way he melted with such staggering relief. “Good. Though you’ve already got some gray in your beard. Is this your subtle way of telling me you’re shitting your pants now too?”
I laughed, and it was finally genuine. Daniel was good like that.
Nothing had been solved. I had no clue what I was going to do next week when Wednesday afternoon rolled around, but that wasn’t his problem. The sooner he left, the sooner I could keep it that way.
“All right, time for you to go,” I announced, rising to my feet.
“Nah, I’ve got a few more hours. I don’t have any patients until after lunch.”
“Must be nice, but I have to get back to work, so maybe you should head back and see if Amber’s up for some belated birthday good stuff.”
His mouth gaped. “Are you seriously kicking me out?”
“Yep!”
“Oh, come on!” His voice was so whiny it made me grin. He had MD behind his name and he was still the same kid trotting behind me, begging to be included. “I drove all the way down here. Let’s order in some breakfast. I’m starved.”
“I already ate.” Giving him my back, I walked to the door.
“Come on. We never get to hang out.”
I unlocked the deadbolt and gave the doorknob a twist. “I don’t hang out on Thursdays. You know the schedule.”
“News flash, Truett. You created the schedule. You can change it too.” He continued to argue, but his footsteps sounded behind me.
“Sorry, bud.” I swung the door open and then immediately suffered a heart attack. “Fuck!” I boomed, tripping over my own damn feet as I lurched back, barely catching myself on the doorjamb.
Gwen froze on the second step, my raincoat in her hand at her side, her eyes wide with surprise. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She did more than scare me. Seeing her there terrified me for more reasons than I could count.
Even in the middle of a mild cardiac arrest, I couldn’t stop my gaze from trailing down her body. Tight black athletic shorts clung to her toned thighs. One leg of the fabric was curiously longer than the other, but they hugged her in all the right places. A bright-pink tank top gaped at the sides, revealing a glimpse of her sports bra. And while it didn’t appear that it was supposed to be a cropped top, it fell one delicious inch above her waistband. They were simple workout clothes. Not even particularly revealing ones at that. But dear God, she made my mouth dry.
I’d installed a doorbell camera long before they became a suburban accessory. It sent an alert to my cell phone when it detected motion at my door. I had never needed a warning more than when she nervously peered up at me while toying with her ponytail over one shoulder. Too little too late, my phone buzzed in my pocket when she made it up the final step.
At least the vibrations snapped me out of my drooling stupor.
“What are you doing here?” I asked accusingly.
It was a dick move, but she wasn’t supposed to be there.
Not anymore.
“You got a few minutes?” she asked. “I need to talk to you.”
That did not sound good.
I didn’t have the chance to respond before Daniel ducked around me, sporting a shit-eating grin. “He has nothing but time, actually.”
Her face stretched into a smile.
Wide.
Bright.
Breathtaking.
Aimed at him.
Twist the fucking dagger, why don’t ya.
“Danny?” She gasped.
The jackass stepped directly in front of me like I’d become the invisible man. “Technically, I go by Doctor Daniel West now, but yeah, you can still call me Danny.”
Gwen dropped my jacket like it had developed a case of leprosy, and all but launched herself into his arms. I, on the other hand, secured a life in dentures, clenching my teeth so hard it was positive they’d shatter.
Dr. Shithead lifted Gwen off her feet and spun her in a circle, nearly taking my knees out with her dangling legs. Last I’d checked, we were not in a countryside field in Austria with Julie Andrews singing in the background. Was spinning seriously necessary?