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“You’re like a shepherd searching for all his sheep, ain’t ya?” I ask.
Rock smirks. “Feels like herding turtles half the time.”
“He ain’t looking that hard,” Teller says. “Too busy groping his wife.”
Hope reaches over and playfully swats at him. He grins at her, and I get the sense it’s a common shared joke.
“Stop picking on Mom and Dad,” Murphy teases.
Oh, Rock must love them calling him Dad.
Serves him right. Little shit used to razz my ass by calling me Dad. Got Wrath and Z callin’ me that too. Karma sure is a wonderful bitch.
The playful grin slides off Teller’s face. “How’s it going, Grinder?”
“Fine. Stop looking at me like the Reaper’s gonna show up on my doorstep any day.”
“Great, you’re as cheery as he is.” He tilts his head toward Rock.
“Where’d you think he learned the art of being a sarcastic bastard, son?”
Rock busts up laughing.
“My husband certainly has a gift for wry humor,” Hope says with a teasing smile.
“No patience for bullshit,” Murphy adds. “Ours, or anyone else’s.”
Rock glances at Murphy. “And yet, you two test my patience every day.”
“What’d I do now?” Murphy asks.
I rumble with laughter until I’m wheezing.
Rock’s eyes narrow. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing at all, brother.” I glance around the room, a warmth growing in my chest. “It’s good to be back.”
Chapter Twelve
Serena
“Serena!” Lucy calls.
Damn, I wanted to make it to my office without anyone seeing me. I’m not technically late since I don’t have any appointments until ten. But I should’ve been here about twenty minutes ago.
Still shivering since, in my quest to do as many stupid things as possible over the weekend, I left my damn coat at the clubhouse, I unwrap my scarf and tuck it in my bag. “Morning.” I beam a pleasant smile at our receptionist and try to act casual.
She stands and leans over her desk. “One of your patients is here.” She glances down at a file. “Grayson Lock? He called, and I told him you didn’t have any openings, but he was very insistent that he had to see you.” She jerks her head discreetly to the right and I turn, following her line of sight.
Grayson.
Perfect posture. Elbows casually leaning on the arms of the chair.
The full force of his dark gaze focused on me.
How did I miss him when I walked inside?
“Gr—Mr. Lock. What are you doing here?” I almost stumble over my sneakers. This is too weird—my weekend life and my work life colliding.
He was your patient first.
He clutches his shoulder. “Been giving me trouble.” His expression is calm, unreadable.
“I—uh, okay. Follow me.” I stop to grab his file from Lucy and march to my office to drop off my things. The thin carpet mutes our steps, but I’m keenly aware of Grayson’s large body so close behind me.
“In here,” I say, gesturing to my office so he doesn’t crash into me when I stop. I push my door open and he’s hot on my tail, following me inside. As if he didn’t want me to leave him waiting in the hallway.
I scurry behind my desk and stash my purse in the bottom drawer. Standing up straight, I unzip my hooded sweatshirt and drape it over the back of my chair.
“You forgot this.” Grayson holds out a white plastic shopping bag.
My eyes widen as I reach for it. “My coat.” I lift my gaze, meeting his eyes. “Thank you.”
I shake it out of the bag and move past him to hang it on the back of my door.
“It’s got holes in it,” he says.
Embarrassment heats my face. My shoulders jerk. “Spring will be here soon enough. I’ll buy a new one next season.” Feeling bold and maybe a little annoyed, I finally meet his eyes. “Thanks for your concern about my wardrobe, though.”
His mouth tilts to one side. “Why’d you leave the other morning?”
I push the door closed and face him. “I told you, I could lose my job.” My gaze darts to the door as if my boss has her ear pressed up against the thin particle board.
He steps closer. Too close. I’m forced to back up until my shoulder blades press into the wall. It’s not a threatening move, though. More cozy or intimate. “Yeah, you mentioned that. Then you slept in my bed anyway.”
My cheeks are absolutely roasting now. “Shh, please.”
“Can I take you out?”
“Out? Where?”
He sighs and steps away, jamming his hands in his pockets. “It wasn’t my intention to ambush you at your job, Serena. I didn’t know how else to get in touch with you, though.”
Unsure of what to say, I lift my shoulders again.
“That’s it?” He mimics my shrug. “That’s all you got?”
“What do you want me to say? You ducked out of your own room so you didn’t have to wake up with me. Do you have any idea how awkward I—” I raise my hands in front of me. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I made a mistake. Let’s start over and keep this professional. Otherwise, you’ll need to find a new therapist.”
