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“Wasn’t mischief, Doctor.”
The kid sporting a cheeky grin and a milky white mop scowls at me.
“That’s enough from you, Ricky,” Anna said, chastising him. “Just cut his foot in the tree outside of our beach house.”
“The wound is clean and stitched. Try to keep it clean and dry for today. Bring him back if it looks like it’s getting infected. The anti-biotics should help though,” Simmi said.
“Well then, I’ll leave you with Simone.” I use her full name as I always do in front of patients.
“Thanks, Doc.”
The kid waves and Anna just shakes her head. Simmi doesn’t bother to look up. Her posture is stiff and her expression serious. I nod one last time and make my way to the medical storeroom.
***
I pull the car on to the main road. The tension between us is so tight, the air is in danger of fracturing. The scent of her chocolate coffee drink, mixed with her woody perfume is driving me nuts. I keep my eyes glued to the road. I need to remain in control.
“Whose first on the list?” I say, barking out the words. “Sorry.” And I just give up when that, too, sounds like a command.
From the corner of my vision, I see her look to me. There’s nothing friendly about her gaze. Tapping on the tablet, she exhales through her nose. I can feel her nervous frustration vibing off her. If she wants me as much as I do her, I wish she’d stop fighting it.
“One of mine.” She continues to tap on the car’s GPS. “This should get us there. I’m no good at giving directions.”
Her hand brushes mine and she recoils. Her reaction is not one I expect and something inside me trembles.
My knuckles are whiter than rice and ache as I grip the steering wheel tighter. I suck in a slow, deep breath and force my rampaging insides to do anything but explode.
“Good. Who is it?” I make a point of softening my tone. I want to win her over, not alienate her.
“Melody Lennon. Six months preggers. No complications. Just a simple checkup.” She taps ‘go’ on the map’s screen.
We drive on in silence but for the nasal directions coming from the GPS. Simmi fiddles with her fingers. God, what I’d like to do with those fingers. My need for her is a smoldering heat which threatens a nuclear reaction.
After only five minutes, but what felt like an eternity, I pull up the drive and park out the front of an old Queenslander. The garden is quaint and neat, but the boards and the fence need a coat of paint. I swing open my door.
“You can wait in the car. There’s no need to overcrowd my patient.” She flings open her door, swings her legs out, leans back, and reaches to grab her bag.
I freeze. Simmi’s shoulder presses into my arm. Her warmth travels through her blouse and my shirt to settle on my skin. Her scent, stronger now she’s so close, even if only for a fraction of a moment, throws itself at me, and leaves me almost ripping the steering off the drive shaft.
I try not to sound put out of place. “Fine.”
She walks to the front door. Her ass swaying in a way that... that…
Ah fuck! Who am I kidding?
I get out the car and, shoving my hands in my pocket, I walk to the opposite side of the drive, then back.
Jeezus, will I survive the day?
I don’t have to wait long for Simmi. “It’s a thousand degrees out and you choose to walk in the blazing sun instead of sitting in an air-conditioned car?” she chides as she places her nurse’s bag on the back seat, then hops in the front.
I have no words and instead get back behind the wheel.
“Next is one of yours. That wound of old missus Krooni.” She taps the GPS and I notice she holds her hand in a way to ensure she doesn’t make contact with mine.
“That was fast.” I prepare to reverse out the drive.
Her hands tremble and I grin inwardly. I’ve taken back control. If I can keep my cool, I’ll have her begging me to fuck her by the end of the day.
