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The kids burst into giggles while Margo’s hazel eyes looked like molten gold as she squinted at him in annoyance, and she used her hands to talk.
“Dr. Monroe, do you think if I held your hands behind your back, you could speak, or do you need them to help you find the words you want to use?”
She paused. “Don’t change the subject.”
The kids were keenly interested in their exchange, and they didn’t hide their smiles or giggles.
He sat down directly across from her and leaned forward over the table.
“You don’t want me to be here?”
“No, it’s not that,” she replied, although it sounded like a question.
He couldn’t help but laugh, because she was lying. Her telltale habit of biting her lip when she was uncomfortable was giving her away.
He reached out and gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, unable to resist touching her. “You are lying, Dr. Monroe.” Then he slowly moved his hand up along her jaw, letting his thumb trace the line that ran up to her high cheekbones. “You also have glue and glitter on your face already. I think I better stay and supervise you.”
The kids laughed.
Margo pulled out of his reach and took a gulp from the hot latte as if she needed it for relief.
“Delicious right?” He eyed her before turning his attention back to the kids. “Now, can someone explain to me what we’re making and how not to be as messy as Dr. Monroe?”
That earned him a few more laughs from the kids, and he picked up a pine cone.
“This is going to be so fun,” he said and winked at Margo.
She looked like an animal that just realized it was trapped, but he couldn’t help but wonder if she also liked it. There was definitely a spark every time he touched her, and he was going to find out if that might turn into a raging fire with a little encouragement.
For the next hour, he flirted and peppered Margo with questions about her life over the last ten years, books she’d read, and places she’d been. All the while, he told the kids dozens of jokes.
He made an effort to touch Margo as much as possible and was fairly certain his tactics were working to distract her when she took another break from their table. But when she stormed off abruptly to the bathroom, he considered his next move. Go in for the kill and just plant one on her or try to get her to ask him to kiss her. Getting her to beg would be tough, but probably so worth the reward.
Chapter Nine
Margo
“Shoot, shoot, shoot,” Margo said under her breath, huffing as she slipped into the ladies’ room. After an hour of sitting with Drake and the children, she needed a break.
Why was she letting him affect her so much? So what if he was gorgeous and brought her coffee? He was also her ex-boyfriend, and she was his supervisor. It was unprofessional and self-destructive to be so attracted to him. And from the look on his face, he was starting to realize she wasn’t completely disinterested in him. But why would he care? They’d both moved on. Hadn’t they? She knew he had a glamorous, successful life in LA, and she had her work and her family. He didn’t need to know it was otherwise empty.
“Shit.” She groaned, shaking the thoughts of Drake away as she washed her hands. This was an impossible situation. Being this close to the man she never wanted to give up was torture.
After work, she typically stayed far away from Mercy, but Christmas was like her Super Bowl. She loved every single aspect: the decorations, the baking, the ugly sweaters, the eggnog, the movies, the music, and most of all, the events. She loved to participate in all the festive events, but she hadn’t expected to see Drake there.
Distracted as she exited the ladies’ room, she ran right into a cozy, warm chest as she rounded the corner. Her hands landed on two very muscular shoulders, and she squeezed her eyes, unable to resist breathing him in.
“Woah, lost in thought on how to add more glitter to your works of art?” Drake said in his deep voice that made her want to wrap her arms around him.
A shiver danced up her arms where his strong arms gripped her through her sweater and offered steady support.
“Something like that,” she said, and her voice was noticeably strained.
He didn’t let his hands fall away but instead rubbed them up and down the length of her biceps. “I’ve actually been doing a lot of that lately too. Thinking.”
His tone implied his thoughts might be about her, but she didn’t trust either of them to believe that was true. Instead, she rushed to change the subject.
“You’re good with the kids. Maybe you should consider pediatrics instead of emergency,” she said, stepping back and forcing his hands to let her go.
