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“I’m looking for Nurse Belle Jones?” Bently asked the older woman at the desk.
“Down that hall. She was making her rounds.” The kind lady studied him cautiously.
“Thanks.” He walked over the way she’d pointed, searching for any sign of the woman who made him unravel at the seams. He adjusted the sticky note on the coffee. Just a little something to put a smile on her face.
Her throaty laughter caught his attention first. He swiveled his head towards an empty patient room. Doctor Stanley had his hand on her shoulder and was telling her some story about an enema tube and a patient. Bently tensed, his veins burning green. He wanted to walk over there and rip that man’s hand off Belle. He had no business touching his woman.
Fuck. My woman?
Every muscle was rigid. His jaw flexed. His teeth ground together threatening to break. This could not happen. Maybe he was a selfish asshole after all, because Bently didn’t want anyone else touching her, kissing her, even making her smile like that. That was his job! Was it worth risking everything? Could he put his doubts aside and be what she needed?
He fucking hoped so.
“Belle. There you are, Angel.” He walked in.
Doctor Stanley looked up, surprise flashing at his intrusion. Belle blinked as if she couldn’t believe he was actually there.
He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into his side before kissing her cheek. “Brought you some coffee, sweetheart.”
Doctor Stanley’s forehead wrinkled as his gaze jumped between Bently’s hold and Belle. “Oh, Bently. So nice to see you. Looks like you’re recovering well.”
“Sure am, Doc. Had the best hands to care for me.” He squeezed Belle’s shoulders. She tensed.
“Well, I’ll see you around,” the doctor said before leaving them alone.
Belle whirled around, her face a mask of confusion lined in anger. Fuck, even that turned him on.
“What the hell is this?” she whisper-yelled.
“Coffee, and an apology?” He said it more like a question and shrugged, feigning innocence.
She shook her head and stepped back. “If we’re just friends, maybe you should lay off the PDA. It . . . confuses things.”
Bently sighed and set the coffee on the counter in the exam room. He reached out his hands to her arms. “I’ve been thinking a lot. I don’t know if I can be what you need, but I’ll be damned if I don’t try. I couldn’t stand seeing another man’s hands on you. I just . . . I want to try . . . to be more than friends.”
Understanding flashed in her brown eyes before a small smile quirked up the side of her mouth. “You were jealous of Rick?”
Belle was on a first-name basis with this guy? “Yes,” he grit out.
She looked at the note and smiled. “Another cheesy cop pick-up line, huh?”
He smirked. “You don’t like ’em?”
Belle chuckled. “Only you, Bently Evans, could take something so corny and make it endearing.”
Warmth blossomed in his chest, radiating to the hidden recesses of his heart. This woman was truly an angel—an embodiment of love and light and all that was good in this world. He was in trouble.
“I can’t promise you everything, but I’d like to see where this goes. I like you, Angel. And I don’t want to end up hurting you, but it’s more than just one night for me. I understand if that’s not enough for you.”
She stayed silent, studying him for a few moments as if considering his offer. That’s just one more thing that set her apart—her ability to think through things with a level head. The way she chose what was truly best for herself over temporary escape. It took a fierce woman to do that.
“Okay. We can see where this goes without a label. But . . . I need to know you’ll, at the very least, be committed to this. I mean . . . that you won’t have sex with other women.”
He nodded. “That won’t be a problem.”
She looked up at him curiously. “Okay, then.”
“Can I kiss you now?” he asked.
