Page 111 of Doctor’s Forbidden Match

“I have a good teacher.”

Brooke’s already deep in conversation with Emmett, laughing at something he said. Jameson’s setting up the grill, and it all feels natural.

The morning drifts into the afternoon. We don’t catch anything, but no one seems to care. We drink beers and eat burgers that Jameson grills to perfection. Brooke and Emmett are definitely flirting; she keeps touching his arm, and he keeps finding excuses to stand close to her.

Zac stays near me the whole time, our hands brushing, our eyes meeting across conversations. Every time someone tells a story, he glances at me to see if I’m laughing. When I shiver slightly as the sun starts to drop, he hands me his jacket that was draped over his chair.

“Thanks,” I say, putting it on. It smells like him, and I have to resist the urge to bury my face in it right in front of everyone.

“Looks better on you anyway,” he says quietly.

There’s this weightlessness in my head and heart. He’s been saying unguarded things this afternoon, like he’s stopped trying to hide how he feels. Something in him has changed.

The sun has started to set.

“Come on, let’s go for a walk before we lose the light,” Jameson calls out, already moving ahead, hands in his pockets.

Emmett hangs back, slowing his pace just enough so Brooke can catch up. It’s not subtle. Nothing about the way he’s been watching her all afternoon has been discreet.

“So you’re in finance.”

Brooke glances up at him. “Micro-accounting. You?”

“Banking.” He grins. “Corporate, before you ask. Not the kind that forecloses on people’s houses.”

“Reassuring.” She smiles.

“I thought so.” He mentions something about forward projections like he’s testing her. Brooke counters, tossing back historical facts with a smug smile. “You’re all speculation.” She bumps her shoulder against his. “I deal with what’s actually there.”

His gaze drops to her lips before meeting her eyes again, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Then I guess I’ll just have to prove my long-term value to you.”

Jameson, already ahead, glances back at them and shakes his head like he’s seen this before.

Zac and I hang back, walking slowly.

“So…” he says after listening to the others for a bit.

“So,” I echo, smiling.

“I’m glad you came today.”

“Me too.” I take a breath. I’ve rehearsed this conversation in my head since I saw him on the street yesterday, knowing I’m leaving in a week. If I don’t say it now, I might never get another chance. “I’ve missed you. More than I should probably admit, given everything going on.”

He stops walking, turning to face me. His expression is entirely unguarded. A raw look I haven’t seen from him before. It’s as if he’s stripped away all his usual defenses and is just letting me see whatever is underneath. “Hannah—”

“I know it’s complicated.” I continue before I lose my nerve. “I know I’m leaving in a week, and you’re dealing with the investigation, your job, your whole life here. And I’m about to start a new series in Beacon that’s everything I’ve worked for. But I don’t think I can just go back to my old life and pretend this was nothing. I don’t want to.”

He searches my eyes, swallowing roughly. “Firstly. I’m proud of you for getting a new series. Congratulations. You deserve it. Second, I told myself the same thing. That once you left, this would fade. It has to, because nothing about the timing works; the situation doesn’t make sense, and I’ve spent my whole career being careful exactly so something like this couldn’t ruin it.” He steps closer, his hand coming up to cup my face, thumb brushing against my cheek. “But I’m fucking done being careful if it means losing you. I don’t care that it’s complicated. I don’t care about the distance, or timing, or what I’m supposed to do once the investigation closes.” His voice drops to a rasp. “I love you, Hannah. I’ve been trying not to say that for weeks, but I don’t want to hold it back anymore.”

The words slam deep into my heart, and for a second, I can’t breathe.

“I love you too,” I whisper, and the relief of finally saying it out loud nearly undoes me.

Then he’s kissing me.

It’s slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second, his lips soft against mine. When I part my lips, his tongue meets mine as his hand slides into my hair. My hands drift from his chest, where his heart thrums as fast as mine, up to the back of his neck to pull him closer. My crutches stay against my body as we move slowly.

He responds by closing what little distance is left, his other hand settling at the small of my back, until there’s nothing between us.