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Her heart was emphatically rejecting that idea.
“Hmm.” He leaned in, making her lips part, and he brushed his mouth over them. She stayed still, to better absorb the sensation, and because she couldn’t move under that penetrating gaze. “I look forward to expanding your reality, doc.”
He straightened, the gray eyes focused on her. “So here’s the deal. You do what you need to do. But once you get done, once the wheel turns to the right spot, I’m coming for you. Got it?”
Based on one dinner. One visit. Yes, there was a strong connection, probably mostly hormone-driven on his part, maybe hers, too. Nothing about her warranted such a sweeping declaration.
“You’re messing with me. Don’t do that. And I’m not called a doctor until I graduate.” She tried to pull away.
He wouldn’t let her. Sparks were in his eyes. “When you were in the bathroom, I told those guys you were my girl. And they should watch out for you while keeping their hands and dicks to themselves, because every one of them saw how beautiful and desirable a woman you are.”
He curled a hand in the collar of her scrubs. “When I kiss you, Les, you can tell what I want, can’t you? You’ve been in my head a long time, too. Maybe I haven’t made that clear enough.”
He kissed her again. She pushed against him, but he absorbed her resistance in his strength, his persuasion, his overwhelming presence. He coaxed her lips apart, stroked her tongue with his, played it over her teeth. When he moved his hands to her waist and back to bring her closer, everything came alive, energy surging through her body.
Okay, maybe sex would be okay. Maybe Beulah and the others would be gone, and they’d have the place to themselves.
“Goddamn,” he murmured. It broke the kiss, but told her he felt the power of the energy pulsing between them, too.
His gaze locked with hers again. “You may be Rory’s sister, but you are not my fucking sister. That’s sure as hell not how I see you. I haven’t, not for years. We’re done revisiting that shit.”
He kept that penetrating look upon her, confirming the message had at least taken root, enough to keep her from trying to deny it. “And yeah, I’d be happy to have you twelve different ways, but we’re not doing that, either. Because once I’m inside you like that, we’re going to be together. I meant what I said. When the time is right, I’ll be back on your doorstep. I'll give you the space to finish medical school, figure out who and what you want. But if you're on your own when that's done, I'm coming for you."
“So I get no say in this.” Having her desires for a quick sex fix thwarted generated the annoyance she needed to push back. Even if the words came out a little unsteady.
He eyed her. “You have as much say as you want, but you’ll have to convince me if what you want isn’t me.”
“You do realize this is the 21st century? Men don't come and carry off women?”
“I know what I want, and that's you. Tell the truth. When I said I’m coming for you, what happened?"
It had made her toes curl and her breath shorten. No way in hell was Les admitting that. “Firefighters often have brain damage due to testosterone overload. You might need an MRI.”
“See, you are a doctor. Making diagnoses and everything.”
Ignoring his way-too-sexy grin, she exited the truck, taking her box. And his gift. She slammed the door with an appropriate decisiveness and stalked up the walkway.
“Hey, doc?”
Since he was already out of the truck and coming up behind her, her choice was to face him or do an undignified sprint to her door. She turned and planted her feet, but he disarmed her when he showed her the pen. One of the two he’d pulled from her hair before dinner.
“Didn’t want you to forget this. I’ll just keep the other. Never know when I might need an extra pen.” He threaded it back into the twist she’d redone at the restaurant. His fingers trailed over her collar bone, offering another intimate stroke of her bra strap beneath the neckline of her scrubs.
“Thank you for dinner,” she said with dignity. Then she pivoted and marched for the door.
She heard his chuckle, which would help later if she thought she’d been unforgivably rude. She already knew she’d regret not looking back. However, if she took the risk, she knew those intent eyes wouldn't be laughing.
And that look alone might pull her right back into his truck.
Chapter Three
He may not be the guy some girls think of as dreamy… The Gershwin tune with its wistful poignancy came to her, but Les shut it down. She couldn’t afford to think about wanting or needing some guy to watch over her. She was too damn busy for that nonsense. She had patients who needed her to watch over them.
She’d been assigned eight in her current Behavioral Medicine rotation. Tonight she’d download and review the current status on their charts. She’d be up at 4:30am to run on the treadmill and do strength training while listening to a downloaded lecture. By six, she’d be at the hospital for pre-rounds. At seven, she’d present to the attending or resident in her care team. The rest of her twelve-hour day would be divided between clinical work and grabbing as much study time as she could for the exam she’d be taking when the rotation was complete.
The pace was relentless, but ironically it also helped her manage her stress. Study, experience, learning from her attendings, residents and fellow students, formed the walls of the tunnel she was chugging down. At the end of the tunnel, she’d have the knowledge to mitigate the fear of screwing up.
Brick hadn’t taken her refusal to start a relationship as a dodge. He’d taken her at her word, which yes, could reflect an arrogant confidence—not unjustified—in his impact on her, but his unsettling respect for her honesty made an impression.
