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I stare at the message on my phone that was sent at six thirty this morning. My heart knocks against my chest. I know he’s trying to be the nice guy that he is, but damn him. All the sweet things he says and does is dangerous to my heart. I knew he was a nice guy, but this attraction I feel for him is on another level. I’ve never dated anyone who cared enough to send me a good morning text to let me know he was thinking about me.
Now, when I finally do, it’s my friends-with-benefits hookup that no longer feels like we’re just about the benefits. My heart is involved, and that pisses me off. Not at him. He’s done nothing wrong. Hell, he does everything right, hence the reason my heart isn’t doing a very good job of staying out of this little arrangement we’ve made.
It’s just after seven, so I know he’s already started his shift. I type out a reply, then erase it. It takes me three tries before I’m satisfied and hit Send.
Me:Have a great day.
Simple, to the point, and completely ignores the way he calls me beautiful. The butterflies in my belly, however, took notice, and they’re fluttering around like crazy. I’m in dangerous territory. I know I need to either end this or just tough it out and let the cards fall where they may when he does. And by cards, I mean the shattered pieces of my heart.
Tossing my phone on the bed, I throw off the covers and make my way to the shower. I’m ready in record time, and I don’t need to be at the studio until nine. I don’t really want to start on edits and then have to stop. I get into the zone when I’m editing, and it goes much faster when I can sit down knowing or hoping I’ll have the least number of interruptions.
With time to kill, I make a stop at our local bakery, The Sweet Side. The smell of sweet, gooey goodness hits me as soon as I open the door. As I stand in line, I ponder what I’m going to order. I’m starving, and it smells so good that I’m tempted to just order one of everything and leave some for my customers. That’s when an idea hits.
“Welcome to The Sweet Side. What can I get for you?” an older woman greets me.
“I’ll take a dozen glazed donuts, a cinnamon roll, and two large black coffees, please.”
“Sure. Coming right up.” I hand over my card, and she cashes me out before boxing up my order. I wait patiently while she gathers my order. She places a box, a bag, and a drink carrier on the counter. “Can you get that? Need some help to your car?”
“Nope. I’m all set. Thank you. Have a great day.” I wave before sliding the bag onto my wrist, taking the box with one hand and the drink carrier with the other.
I don’t know how he takes his coffee. I’m not even sure he drinks coffee, and me dropping by his work isn’t something a friend with benefits would do, but he had a hard day yesterday. When I talked to him last night, it was brief. I could tell he was exhausted, so I made the excuse that I had laundry to fold and ended our call early. Taking a deep breath, I slowly exhale before grabbing my phone and sending him a text.
Me:Can I drop something off for you?
Brooks:Only if it’s you.
Me:Nice try, big guy.
Brooks:Can’t blame a man for trying.
Brooks:Come to the ER parking lot. Text me when you get here, and I’ll run out to meet you.
Me:Okay. I’ll be there in ten.
Placing my phone in the cupholder, I put my car in Drive and head to Willow River General. I battle internally with myself the entire drive. I’m blurring the lines. I was just thinking I was getting too attached and here I am, trumping his “good morning, beautiful” text with donuts and coffee. I’m still not certain it’s the best idea, but I’m already committed. The donuts and coffee have been purchased, and he knows I’m on my way.
Parking in the emergency room parking lot like he told me, I wipe my hands on my capris before grabbing my phone to send him a message.
Me:I’m here.
Brooks:I’ll come to you.
Well, that makes this easier. At least I don’t have to stand in the lobby with patients and his coworkers watching me, waiting for him to come out. Him meeting me outside makes it easier on me.
Me:Okay.
I watch the doors, and within no time, he’s exiting wearing his dark blue scrubs. Damn, this was such a bad idea. The man makes scrubs look sexy. I bet every female doctor, nurse, patient, and even the support staff drool over him on a daily basis. He makes it to the passenger side and pulls open the door. Quickly, I move the goodies and allow him room to sit.
He climbs into the car, shuts the door, and leans over, kissing me on the lips. “You did bring me you,” he says, pulling away while I fight hard not to melt when he greets me this way.
“I brought you coffee and donuts.” I nod to the box I’m holding. “I don’t even know if you drink coffee. I brought you black and figured if you needed to doctor it up, you’d have something in the break room.”
“You brought me donuts and coffee?” he asks with a bewildered look on his face.
“Is that okay?”
He nods slowly. His hand slides behind my neck, and he pulls me into another kiss. This one is deeper than the last. “It’s more than okay,” he says huskily, and the kiss is so good, I’m a melted puddle of goo. “I drink my coffee black, and I love donuts.”
