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“Meaning what? You don’t normally do that type of thing.”
As if I’d admit it. “Does it matter? One night, never to be repeated. Not going to make things weird between us, right?”
Part of me wished he’d say it had been so unbelievable he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about me. That he’d been tempted to call me and not for professional reasons, but for personal ones. But I knew guys like Lucas. With his looks, job, and money—and the bitter taste from his ex-wife thrown into the mix—nights like Saturday were a dime a dozen. And so were women like me.
“No, it won’t get weird.” He shifted the subject by tapping on the screen. “The iPad is your everything. Your schedule, your electronic patient records, your notepad, a place to order prescriptions, and how you’re tracked.”
“Tracked?”
“Yeah, timing is tricky when it comes to house calls because we never know how long the prior appointment will be or how bad traffic is. We track our position and ETA. You pull up the first appointment like this.”
A map came up on the screen with driving directions, showing it would take sixteen minutes to arrive at our first appointment. He continued to explain. “Once we click this button saying we’re on the way, the system sends a text message to the patient with a link showing our location. It’s like Uber or a food delivery service, so ensure you are actually on your way. If you plan on picking up lunch or a coffee, the system will track you through your stop and annoy the patient.”
“What happens for lunch and using the restroom?”
“I have several local places I hit for both, and I’ll give you a list of their locations. Nine times out of ten you can ask the patient if you can use the bathroom. It’s customary to wash your hands anyhow, so they don’t typically mind. But it takes strategy to make time for breaks between appointments. Personally, I keep snacks in the car. Sometimes when I’m running behind because of a chatty client I don’t have time to stop for lunch. On the bright side, the tight schedule makes the days go by quickly.”
I was accustomed to grabbing a protein bar or something quick for lunch. But then again, I was used to having coffee in the break room and a bathroom nearby. “When do you review the patient files? How do you know what you’re walking into?”
“We all have different methods, but I like to look at who I have on the schedule the night before. That way I’ll know if I need to bring a special piece of equipment and I’m prepared. A lot of my patients are repeat, which makes matters easier, but it’ll be a bit more difficult for you to start off. Ramona will schedule extra time between your appointments until you can get into a groove. You don’t want to be caught without the proper supplies or equipment.”
Everything he was telling me made sense. I was intrigued with how this level of care compared to a clinical exam room. And I had to hand it to Lucas as he answered my questions without an ounce of impatience or annoyance.
“Ready?” His finger hovered over the button labeled “On my way.”
“Yeah, let’s go.”
We were two minutes into the drive before I couldn’t stand the silence any longer.
“Do you keep in touch with my brother?” I wondered how well he knew Caleb, especially since my sibling didn’t have a lot of friends. Before he’d met Daisy, he hadn’t been social at all.
“Yeah, after he concluded my divorce, we stayed in touch. We remain friendly and get together every now and then for golf. He called me when Daisy needed stitches, which is how I met her.”
The mention of my brother’s girlfriend made me smile. She was the complete opposite of Caleb with her outgoing personality. “Daisy is one of the best people I know.”
He grinned. “I agree. It’s fun to see them together. Heard they decided to adopt baby Henry.”
“Yes, they did. He’s precious. I’m excited to become an aunt.” Caleb and Daisy had cared for a baby while his mother was going through a mental crisis a few months ago. Soon a private adoption would make their parentage official.
“I can imagine you’ll be a fun aunt.”
Okay, we could do this. We could be friendly without picturing each other naked.
Or not.
Now that I’d recalled what not to, a movie reel of his incredible body played in my head.
He glanced toward me. “Why are you blushing?”
Busted. My blush leveled up. “I’m not. It’s nothing.”
“Tell me what caused the blush.”
Fine. If he was curious, then I would tell him. “I was congratulating myself for not picturing you naked and then, boom, failure.”
Instead of laughing like I’d expected, he went quiet.
I let out a long sigh. “So much for being honest and hoping it would relieve the tension. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
