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“You can always bother me, Brook,” I tell her.
“Well, I didn’t want to, but now I have to go,” she says, and I notice she has covered most of her tattoos, and I don’t like it. I pull the color of her jacket down to see just how much is covered,
“It’s easier, Aryan, it’s not a big deal. It washes off,”
“It is a big deal, Brook,” I declare, frustrated that she has to conform for the comfort of stupid-ass people who need her help, not the other way around.
“I don’t have time to get into this with you. I have to go,” she says before I can get going. Leaning in, she kisses me quickly and walks away before I can take it further.
“By the way, I packed, the suitcase is in the room,” she yells as she walks out the door.
CHAPTER3
Brooklyn
This man keeps off balance, calling me a friend, then whisking me away to Africa on a romantic trip. This shift can’t go by fast enough. It is a short one, only six hours, but I feel like it’s already been days. I don’t have any issues tonight with patients not wanting me to treat them, and that further solidifies the idea of getting them removed.
I sit at my desk to do paperwork, but only a few minutes pass when there is a knock at my door. Looking up, I see Lennox standing in the doorway.
“Can I come in?”
“Of course, you can,” I say as I watch her close my office door before she sits in the chair in front of my desk.
“I wanted to let you know I will retire in six months. Peter and I talked it over, and it’s time. When I started on this journey all those years ago, there were milestones I wanted to accomplish, and I did; I accomplished every single one of them. And I have had some pretty major successes, but the time I miss the most is working with the women back in Alabama. The ones who were too far to receive decent unbiased healthcare, I planned on doing that here in Mississippi, but this job has sucked almost all my free time away from me. You were amazing working at our clinic. Maybe you should consider picking up the mantle or even starting your own private practice. I wouldn’t commit to being an on-staff doctor, but I would certainly volunteer. Or you could stay here; it’s up to you. You have six months to decide before I am gone,” she casually drops that bomb on me.
“Lennox!”
“I know, but I told you it was coming. I’m tired, and Peter and I will not live forever. I have worked my ass off since I was a little girl. It’s time for me to relax and live my life,” she says, and I know she is right.
“Here’s a crazy idea,” she says, standing from the chair, “Maybe you could get Aryan to start the private practice or clinic with you.” She walks out right on that note.
Get Aryan to become a doctor again? Yeah right. I can’t even get him to claim me as more than a friend. No sooner does that thought pass my mind does Lennox sticks her head back in the door to say, “Call Aryan and tell him to come pick you up. Get out of here.”
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that Lennox knows about our plans, it is nigh impossible to keep a secret in this family. I pull out my phone and text him, and rush to input my chart notes so I can be ready when he arrives. Once that is done, I head to the doctor's quarters to shower quickly before I throw on some leggings, a tee shirt, and ballerina slippers. As soon as I slip the shoe on my foot, my phone vibrates with a text from Aryan, letting me know he is here. Grabbing my bag, I practically run out of the hospital to get to him.
Damn, this man, I was just mad and hurt by him, and here I am a few days later, acting like a besotted teenager.You have got to get it together, Brooky. I think before ruthlessly pushing that voice to the back of my mind. If I am going to end up leaving Aryan, I am going to enjoy and cherish this trip without feeling guilty for it. I leave the hospital to see him leaning on the car, waiting for me in blue jeans, sneakers, and a graphic tee shirt. It's such a simple outfit, but on him, it looks couture. Then again, I might be biased. He is probably the most casual dresser of his brothers, but that does not mean he is not a hell of a dresser.
“Ready?” he asks, grabbing me and plastering my body against his.
“Yes,” I say, melting against him.
“Let’s go, Brook, before we give your co-workers and the patients a show,” he says, growing hard against my stomach. It has been at least a couple of weeks since we’ve made love, and my body is telling me it’s not happy about it.
“Okay,” I peel myself away from him, but not before he kisses me on the spot where my neck and collarbone meet. He has food and a smoothie on the seat for me.
“Eat up. I know you haven’t eaten since this morning,” he slides behind the wheel, starts the car, and pulls off. I wake up to Aryan taking my shoes off and covering me with my favorite blanket, and I immediately fall asleep.
“You’re Brooklyn?” This tall, red-headed man asks me inside the biggest residential house I have ever seen.
“I am,” I say, staring up at him, trying not to gape at not just how damn tall he is but he is huge.
“Come in. My name is Aryan. I am Joseph’s brother. I will give you the ten-cent tour before taking you to Joseph’s suite. This is the main area where we all meet for various reasons. Most of the time, we are in our own private suites. Any cooked food or food in the refrigerator is fair game. Feel free to eat it. Where are your bags?”
“In the rental,” I stutter out. I have no idea why I am so nervous in his presence. I have been known to go toe-to-toe with killers. He grunts and continues showing me around until we end up back at the front door.
“I’ll grab your bags and show you where you’ll stay when you are not in Joseph’s suite. Opening the front door, he jogs down the stairs to the rental, turning to look at me. It takes me a few blinks to realize he’s waiting for me to unlock the doors. I fumble around to find the key fob and then unlock it. He grabs all my bags in one trip and begins walking back inside the house, pulling the bags out of my reach when I reach for one. We headed back into the house, past the kitchen through the living room to a door I would have missed. It was built so seamlessly into the glass wall. I walk into a backyard that would put a five-star hotel to shame to what they consider a pool house. Punching a code in the door, he holds it open for me to walk through and into a regular-sized house. Pool house my ass, I think.
There are two bedrooms downstairs and two more upstairs. I’ll leave your bags in the living room so you can choose which one you want to take. If you decide to take an upstairs bedroom, let one of us know, and we will carry the luggage up there for you. Let’s go; everyone is waiting for you upstairs. I will be caring for Joseph to give you a couple of days so you can settle in,” he explains.
