Dr. Single Dad (The Doctors #5) Read Online Louise Bay

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Forbidden Tags Authors: Series: The Doctors Series by Louise Bay
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
<<<<917181920212939>90
Advertisement


“If there’s anything I can do, don’t hesitate to ask. Just know that Guinevere will be safe in my care.”

She clutches my shoulder. “Thank you. Dax said you were very impressive dealing with Doreen in the park.”

My head lifts a little, like a flower basking in the sunlight. “I’m glad I was there and able to help.”

“Someone needs to help Dax. And Guinevere.” She sighs, and I can hear the worry in her breath. “I’m going back to Norfolk after we’ve eaten. I’ll give you my number before I leave. If you’re ever worried about anything, do let me know, will you?” She looks at me like she wants to say more. I don’t respond, because I want to hear it.

She lowers her voice. “He never wanted children. Was set against it from very little. I’m concerned he won’t…bond.”

To have fatherhood thrust on you without notice would be a huge adjustment for anyone, but to have it thrust on you when you never had any intention of becoming a parent?

“I’ll encourage what I can,” I say.

It’s information I shouldn’t know, but at the same time, I’m glad I do. It means I can do something. Dax is going through a lot and I can’t help but think I need to help him. Help Guinevere.

My bed is made, my alarm set for six tomorrow and I’ve unpacked my clothes, toiletries and at least half of my boxes. I pull out my hair tie and then retie it immediately, catching the ends that worked free over the last couple of hours. It’s nearly ten and I need to get to bed. But first, tea. I press my head against the door but don’t hear anything in the hallway.

Perfect.

I’m going to have to work hard to avoid Dax in this flat, but I’ll figure it out.

Clutching my beloved box of chamomile, I tiptoe out into the corridor and head to the kitchen.

I gasp when I see Dax at the kitchen table, reading some papers and eating what looks like the roast chicken his mother made him.

“I was just going to make a chamomile tea, if you want one?” I ask, trying not to sound like I’m a little freaked out that I’m disturbing him.

He shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

“Are you reading anything interesting?” I ask, and then immediately wish I hadn’t. Dax doesn’t strike me as a man who enjoys small talk.

“Work stuff,” he says. “I had to work from home today because…” He trails off, but I know what he’s not saying. He’s had to move me in, look after his daughter. “I’m catching up.”

I nod, not wanting to ask him any more questions.

The kettle boils and I pour the water straight onto my teabag. “You’re not a doctor who sees patients then?” As soon as the question leaves my lips, I mentally chastise myself. Why am I trying to talk to him? I’m clearly interrupting him, and he obviously doesn’t want to talk to me.

“No, I’m a research doctor. My work is…it’s important. There’s a lot riding on it—millions of lives.” His gaze stays on his papers as he speaks.

I can tell by his tone that he’s not saying it to show off, but I don’t know why he’s giving me this information. Part of me feels he wants me to dig, like he’s giving me the scent and asking me to follow the trail.

Except he’s not exactly encouraging conversation.

I pull out a drawer to find a teaspoon, but it’s filled with papers. I pull out another one. That’s full of papers too. I glance around, trying to spot the place where spoons might be kept if it isn’t this unit. Dax doesn’t say anything. He’s too engrossed in what he’s reading.

I cross the kitchen and pull out another drawer. Finally, I find the spoons, no thanks to Dax.

Another negative point for my list: not good at giving instructions about where the spoons are.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow morning at seven,” I say, picking up my mug. He doesn’t respond. “Anything in particular you want me to do with Guinevere?” I ask.

He turns his head. “Like what?”

“I don’t know, do you like her to get some fresh air? Does she have an appointment with the health visitor? Do you have any little routines I should know about?”

He shrugs. “Whatever you think. You know better than me.”

I’ve seen this in new mothers before—the few days or weeks before they bond with their new baby. It will come. It will just take a little time. And maybe a little encouragement.

“Great. We have a free day. Who knows what mischief we’ll get up to?” I smile, but Dax isn’t listening. He’s focused on his work.

Looks like Guinevere and I have some work to do. But babies are magic, so we have that going for us.



<<<<917181920212939>90

Advertisement