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"Oh, I'm strangling him!" I growl under my breath… which obviously isn't quietly enough because all three of the moms in the waiting room hear me and crack up laughing. This will be all over town by the end of the day.
I chase after the sheriff in time to see him disappearing around the corner.
"Sheriff Armstrong! You can't just invite yourself in!" I yell.
"I didn't," he calls back to me. "Tate invited me."
Oh, I am killing my boss.
"He's in Houston," I huff, watching his fine ass stroll down the hall.
"Yep," he agrees, amusement in his voice. "Won't be back for hours."
I finally catch up to him outside of Tate's office. Thoughcatch up tois a relative term. It's more like he stops walking and I run straight into him. He turns around and grabs me before I faceplant on the floor. And Lord, he smells incredible. Hefeelsincredible.
Did I just whimper? Surely not.
"Wh-what are you doing here?" I ask, striving for calm.
"Staking out Tate’s office, little firecracker."
"You're insane." Or I am. Either way, one of us has lost it because he's being completely ridiculous, and I don't entirely hate it. In fact, part of me finds his behavior entirely too endearing. He's relentless and bossy, and I can't remember the last time anyone has tried this hard to get my attention.
"That's your fault," he murmurs, giving me a crooked grin. "I haven't been sleeping because of you. I'd appreciate if you'd put me out of my misery and do me the honor of going to dinner with me tonight, Jules. I'm not leaving here until you say yes."
"I…" I narrow my eyes at him. "You're serious, aren't you?"
"As a—"
"Don't you dare say heart attack, Dillon Armstrong."
"Shit." He grimaces. "Sorry. I forgot what kind of patients you see here." His gaze drifts across my face, his expression somber. "Are you okay, baby girl?"
"You're asking if I'm okay?" I blink at him, caught off guard.
"You said you had a bad day yesterday. This is a hard job," he says as if putting the two together. "I just figured maybe it was one of those kinds of bad days."
My heart flutters at his response, my resolve wavering. "We didn't lose anyone," I whisper. "It was just a rough day. We have a newborn in bad shape. It made me sad."
He runs his hand down my back in a soothing gesture. "Then you definitely have to go out with me tonight so I can make you happy again."
"Will you go away if I agree?"
"Will you agree if I agree to go away?" he retorts.
"Fine," I concede, fighting a smile. "But just so you know, I'm only agreeing so you'll stop bugging me. And, also, because I skipped lunch and I'm starving."
He tugs my body close to his, leaning down over me. "I'll let you keep telling yourself that for now," he growls, pressing his lips to mine in a hard kiss. "But we both know you're full of shit, Jules Montgomery."
* * *
By the time dinner rolls around, I'm a nervous mess. I don't date much… or at all, really. Growing up with older brothers, I didn't get that chance, and I just haven't had the time or desire since. But I can't deny the attraction to Dillon. He's charming, gorgeous, clever, relentless… and the fact that he cared enough to check in on me today really got me.
He's trying. That's more than most guys do. He may be a little over-the-top about it, but I kind of like that about him. I love that he wants me enough to put in the effort. That's sexy as hell to me. What woman doesn't want a total hunk willing to make a fool of himself over her?
He chooses Broadway Steakhouse, an upscale restaurant on Broadway, situated between The Apothecary and The Runway Boutique. The hostess leads us to a private table in the back, and then Dillon holds my chair out before sliding me up to the table. He runs his hand down my arm, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.
"You look ravishing, little firecracker," he murmurs, staring at me from across the table once he's seated. "You look beautiful in your scrubs, but that damn dress is doing a number on my cock."
