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Snow stared at him for what felt like forever before he stepped in even closer. “Funny, neither am I.” He touched Jude’s shoulder. “You keep rubbing your neck. Turn around.”
Anticipation curled inside his belly as Jude turned slowly and stepped away from the open doorway to Justin’s room. Snow paused behind him. Warm breath brushed over the back of Jude’s neck and he locked his knees, trying to focus on anything other than all the blood that was rushing to his dick because Snow was about to touch him.
The hall was empty as patients slept in their beds. There was only the constant beeping of machines and the low conversation of nurses at their station at the far end of the hall. The hospital changed at night, took on a surreal, hushed atmosphere that always felt off. Like all the worry and inability to sleep leaked from the patients and skewered real time, shuffling them into a separate, slower realm. He held his breath when Snow placed both hands firmly on his shoulders and dug his fingers into muscle.
Jude groaned.
Those hands hesitated and the barely-there chuckle right beside his ear made him give up the fight on the rushing blood. He could only hope the hall stayed staff free because his problem was going to be obvious in these pants. Snow ran his thumbs up the cords on the back of his neck. The pain started to ease.
“You’re really good with your hands,” Jude murmured, inwardly amused over how relaxed his neck felt and how so far from relaxed the rest of him was.
“I’m paid to be.” Snow dug his thumbs in harder, knowing exactly where the tight muscles causing the pain were bunched. His hands were warm. Tough. His touch sure and clinical—although a couple of finger swipes felt more like caresses. Maybe they were his imagination but he hadn’t expected a massage from those million-dollar hands.
Jude groaned again when the muscles finally gave and the pain melted away. The doctor must have felt it because he stepped back and cleared his throat. Jude turned and something new swept over him as he took in how uncomfortable Snow seemed. For the first time in Jude’s memory, his eyes didn’t lock onto Jude’s. Snow glanced at him before his gaze skated away. His face had paled, making the harsh, red scratches stand out on his cheek.
Shocked, Jude stared. There was something skittish about the man, something faintly fragile. Jude knew it wouldn’t be something the man liked people to see and the only reason he was witnessing it was a combination of too many stressful hours and the middle of the night, when exhaustion felled even the most stoic of people.
The most powerful urge to comfort him swamped Jude and it was all he could do not to tug the man into the nearest empty room and wrap his arms around him. Jude was stunned. After months of watching Snow, he thought he had the man pegged. Intelligent, arrogant, driven. But this one act of kindness, this unexpected step outside of the norm for both of them, had given Jude the most tantalizing peek at a hidden side to the gruff and cold doctor. There was more to Frost than he’d originally thought, and yeah, he wanted to fuck the man senseless, but even more than that—he suddenly wanted to know him. Really know him.
Snow cleared his throat. “Neck better?” All the warmth of earlier had disappeared from his voice.
“Much. Thanks. That happens a lot.” Jude licked his lips, thrilled when Snow’s gaze followed the movement and locked on his mouth. He took a bold chance. “I’d like to know what else you can do with your talented hands.”
If anything, the doctor grew even more agitated. He was like the best sort of Japanese mystery puzzle box. And Jude should know—he’d been collecting them since childhood. He loved nothing more than finding his way into a beautiful, unique, and tricky mystery.
“You aren’t going to find out.” He frowned. “I need to check on my patient. Go home.”
Jude grinned. There he went snapping out orders again. But something in the way he looked at Jude had shifted. He’d found the first clue he needed in order to get into the puzzle that was Doc Frost.
Determination.Chapter 3Snow had dismissed him too easily, and Jude knew what the next step in the riddle should be. Show the arrogant doctor that he wasn’t so easily forgotten. He knew where Snow parked and he decided to wait for him in the lot.
Frigid January wind, wet and piercing, crept under his jacket and he blew on his hands, wishing he’d grabbed his gloves. The massive parking lot for the employees was still packed with cars, jammed close and glazed with rain. Light from the sparse lamps was pathetic, doing little to beat back the darkness. People coming off shift hurried to their cars with their heads down, but their posture had little to do with the biting cold. The hospital was located in a downtrodden part of town, where homes were crumbling, falling into an almost slow-motion decay, while buildings were boarded up and covered with graffiti representing this or that gang. The only good thing was that victims of shootings and violent attacks had a short distance to travel for medical help.
