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Lachlan fingered my earlobe with a gleam in his eye. “I don’t know. I could get behind Laurel with fox ears.”
“Ugh,” I grimaced.
Laughing, he bent his head to skim a kiss on the corner of my mouth. Then he molded his lips to mine slowly, achingly, promising delicious, naughty things. “Alright. No cosplay. But I seem to remember a certain gorgeous creature who wanted to play out a few doctor fantasies.”
I shushed him, looking around the dining room to make sure no one could hear him. “Say that a little louder, will you?”
“What, you don’t want to?” he teased.
My mouth went dry as I turned my attention to his lips, his chin, and then down his body. “I, uh… wouldn’t hate it.”
Lachlan chuckled, dark and low. “I have a few ideas.”
My mind went sprinting down a back alley of fantasies, and suddenly not caring where we were, I let Lachlan’s mouth and hands run as wild as my desire for him. Trusting felt good. Reallyreallygood.
Twenty Four
Lachlan
As I turned left off the pitted dirt road, I kept an eye on the misty, two-lane highway for oncoming traffic, but it was clear that no one else was out at this hour. Apparently, the lazy town near the Palisades Dam didn’t rise at six AM. Behind me, the clouds had descended on the majestic peaks and crags of the Snake River Range, fogging the green, blue, and gray color swatch that cut through the sky. Like Mount Olympus, the mountain range towered over the sloping valley below. Even in early June, the air held a slight chill that chased the mist and impending rain.
I checked my phone periodically as I drove, hoping for a bar to magically appear on the screen, but no such luck. Finally, I saw “The Dam Store,” which Laurel had found incredibly hilarious on our way to our campsite, and I turned into the parking lot.
Sure enough, they had free Wi-Fi. And coffee. Good enough. After grabbing a cup of coffee and deciding against the preservative-laden selection of junk food on the shelves, I went back to my truck and checked out the Wi-Fi signal. It was decent enough for a video call, at least.
I called Brady and then waited, sipping the Dam Store’s finest, watery brew. He answered on the third ring, his face deadpan as ever, but his skin glistening with a sheen of sweat and his dark hair plastered to his forehead. “Did I interrupt? You’re usually done by six,” I said.
Brady grunted, and the camera dipped with him as he sat down on something. “I’m letting out some aggression.”
“Uh oh. You feeling stabby, now?”
Brady actually looked like he was considering it. “I won’t bore you with the details.”
“Bore me,” I said. “I have terrible news for you, so by all means, lighten the mood. Who do we need to kill?”
“My receptionist,” Brady said through clenched teeth.
I lifted my gaze in thought. “Is this the same one you just hired, or did you fire that one and get a new one already?”
“It’s the same one,” he said tersely.
“Hm. What did she do? Catalogue the patients by first name instead of last or something?”
“She set my pants on fire,” Brady glowered.
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
“Yeah. She set my pants on fire and then blamed me for it. And they believed her. Now, Carla is sending our entire office to the boonies for a Kumbaya retreat to learn how to get along.” Brady wiped his face with a towel. “She’s a menace, Cade. I’m telling you—if the Tasmanian Devil applied for her job, I’d give him a signing bonus.”
I tucked my lips between my teeth to keep from laughing. Finally, I said, “Wow. That’s… very unfortunate.”
“Thank you for putting me in a fantastic mood by reminding me. What’s the bad news?” Brady scowled. Amos Brady had all the charm of a Victorian-era banker most of the time. But, at the moment, he’d make Ebenezer Scrooge look like a children’s TV show host.
“Before I lost service, I got an email from UC Health.”
Amos pinched the bridge of his nose. “They filled their slots.”
“They filled their slots,” I confirmed.
