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“I owe you an apology for my behavior last night.”
I become viscerally aware of his proximity when my pulse spikes and my chest constricts.
He sighs. “I had a stressful day and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’m sorry.”
Rob apologized. Hell must have frozen over.
What on Earth do I say to that?
Chapter Eight
Rob
“I understand.” Her grip tightens on my shoulder, and I’m desperate to hold on with both hands to draw her flush against me. “Your job is stressful. I shouldn’t have made such a stupid joke.”
“Sarcastic comments are your trademark, Marcy.” I soak up her warmth. “I’d be worried if you hadn’t responded that way.”
A small smile settles on her lips. “Still, I’m sorry.”
“Already forgiven.” My hand slides to the base of her spine, and I pull her closer.
Marcy softens and rests her head against my shoulder.
I’m trying my damnedest to keep the inferno under control, but having her in my arms is pushing me to the limit. I’ve dreamed of this moment for as long as I’ve known her—holding her close, keeping her safe. Marcy might be an independent woman, but she’s not a machine. She’s flesh and blood...and all heart when she deems someone worthy.
I want to be worthy. More than anything.
The song ends and another ballad begins. We continue dancing, spinning around on the dance floor. If she takes a half step closer, she’ll know exactly how much I want her. My cock is rock hard. I’m glad I kept my jacket on. If I remove it now, the whole assembly will see the effect she has on me.
Part of me wants to tease her, to bait her into the sharp banter she embraces so easily. But I don’t want to break this tender moment.
No. I finally have Marcy where I want her. Peaceful in my arms.
There’s a soft tap on my shoulder. “Excuse me, Dr. Thompson?”
The magic moment is shattered. Marcy comes to a stop, and we both turn to the intruding party. It’s one of the restaurant staff, looking quite repentant for interrupting our dance.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“There’s a call for you, sir.”
Marcy drops her hold on me, and the loss of her touch strikes me with the force of a lightning bolt. “Go ahead. I’ll be here when you get back.”
Those words lodge in my brain, and it short-circuits. Have we finally taken a step forward? I nod at Marcy and follow the man off the dance floor to the front of the restaurant. He gestures to the phone behind the partition.
“Dr. Thompson speaking.”
“It’s Summer.” Her harried voice carries through the phoneline. Something’s wrong.
“What’s going on?”
“Sorry to interrupt, but I need you here. Stat.” She takes a deep breath. “Grace is back.”
“What happened?” My body tenses, and adrenaline dumps into my system.
“I don’t know, but it’s bad. How fast can you get here?”
“Ten minutes.” I glance around the room, searching for someone from our party. Shit. I don’t have time to waste. I’ll apologize later. They’ll understand. “I’ll need clean scrubs.”
