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“That woman likes you,” Julie whispered when Sandy left. “A lot.”
He wiggled his brows at Julie, a playful smile teasing his lips. “She’s nice, but she isn’t even close to my type.”
“Really?” Julie paused, staring at the spot where Sandy had stood just a second ago. “What’s your type then? Dark hair?”
Jude hesitated, then shrugged, his smile growing wider. “No. Sexy, prematurely graying surgeons who come in to reassure worried mothers before their son’s surgery.” He didn’t normally give away such personal information, particularly when Cincinnati wasn’t known for its overall open-mindedness, but Julie needed the distraction. She needed to think of something other than the fact that the life of her precious little boy was in the hands of a stranger.
She clued in immediately and thankfully, her grin managed to be wicked despite the wounds on her face. “Yeah, he’s my type, too.” She squeezed his hand again. “Is he gay, too? Have you gone out with him?”
“He’s gay and no, we’ve never really spoken.”
“Why not?”
“Let’s just say I plan to work on that.” Jude winked and then spent the next two hours trying to keep her mind off her son’s surgery. When she finally passed out, he slumped back in the chair because she hadn’t let go of his hand. The hospital noises blended into a whining drone in the background as the ER grew unusually quiet in those early morning hours. Leaning back, he closed his eyes. Just for a moment, he thought.
“The nurse said he’s hours past his shift,” a woman said. “He looks too tired to drive home. Maybe you could take him?”
The low voice and shuffling noises tugged at him, trying to pull him from sleep, but exhaustion rode him so hard, Jude just sort of floated under the words, hardly understanding. A twinge in his neck kept him from succumbing back to sleep completely.
“He sat with me the whole time,” she continued, her voice closer. “He’s wonderful. Good looking, too, huh?”
Someone touched his shoulder. He blinked up into blue eyes that held a surprisingly warm look. He’d never seen that expression on the man before. His eyes dropped to the doctor’s lips as he spoke. Jude didn’t hear the words this time, but he did take in the deep groove in the center over his upper lip—one that gave his mouth the sexiest curve. The doctor’s lower lip was fuller. Bite-able. He had another groove in his chin and Jude wanted to put his tongue in it.
“Beautiful Doc Frost,” he murmured, liking this dream as his heartbeat picked up.
Blue eyes flared wide.
A woman chuckled behind the doctor leaning over him. A woman didn’t belong in his sex dreams and for a moment, Jude frowned in confusion. Then he reached up and slid his palm behind the doctor’s neck, pulling him down so it would be only the two of them. “Come on,” he said softly. “We should go to bed. Wanna feel you against me.” He pressed his lips to the doctor’s, opened his mouth and licked along that sexy divot over the doc’s lips. Heat shot through him and a groan rumbled from deep inside.
Dr. Frost snapped back, his hand going up to his mouth. He touched his lips and those eyes narrowed, filling with so much fire, Jude squirmed in his seat. Then Jude’s cocoon burst as realization came to him. He’d kissed the surgeon general. Fucking licked him. He bit his own lip hard, blinking as he took in the yellow paint on the walls, so different from the plain white or brick of his small apartment. “I’m in the hospital,” he announced, voice flat and rough from sleep. “This isn’t a good sex dream, is it?”
The woman—Julie, he remembered now—laughed.
The corner of the doctor’s mouth went up as he fought obvious amusement. “You are and no, it isn’t.” He leaned over him again, looking confused even as he touched his lips and stared harder at Jude.
The man’s exhaustion had to be making him act out of character as well, but Jude knew desire when he saw it and Frost wanted him back. A spark of hope flared in his chest. Jude could work with that. He breathed him in, making sure not to break their locked gazes and the doctor’s hands tightened into fists. He smelled so damned clean—probably from washing up after surgery. Surgery. Jude sat up, remembering that he’d been in this room with a nervous mother. He leaned around the doc and met Julie’s wide-eyed stare. “Justin?”
She nodded and smiled. “He’s okay. And if you don’t mind, Dr. Frost, I’d really like to go see him now.”
Frost straightened once again, then stepped aside. “Her son is fine. Made it through surgery without any complications. I’m about to take Ms. Foster to see him.”
It was the most the doctor had ever said to Jude. He had a velvety, deep voice when he wasn’t barking out orders. The kind of voice that would brush over Jude’s skin in the dark. He wanted that so badly his hands tightened into fists.
