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The two shared a laugh until the Dee’s voice grew hoarse, and a coughing fit erupted. She drew in measured breaths until the episode ended, leaving Dee with a soft wheeze. Was she asthmatic? Or did the breathing problem stem from lingering effects of the pineapple?
Guilt gnawed at Booker. He let go of the wheelchair handle and placed his hand gently on Dee’s back. She didn’t startle, simply looked up at him, curiosity and a pretty pink blush painting her face. When Booker felt his own cheeks warm, he broke the moment by adding, “Besides, I don’t have to ask. Your employee file tells all, including your age.”
He flashed his best you-know-I’m-right smile and was rewarded with an impressive stank eye. Dee turned back to the receptionist. When she asked for insurance information, Dee bristled. Understanding dawned on Booker. Her position as a virtual assistant didn’t offer benefits like dental, pharmacy, and health coverage.
Booker slid his card across the counter. “I’ll be covering the charges for today.”
The registrar narrowed her eyes a bit before taking the card. As she typed in the information, she sat up ramrod straight in her chair. “Booker Watson? As in, starting center for the Miami Tritons?”
He nodded but said nothing. The young woman smoothed her hair before handing his card back. When he took it, she let her fingers linger longer than necessary. She extended her pointer until her skin grazed his.
Suppressing an eyeroll, Booker nodded. At the same time, Dee piped up, “The one and only, but he isn’t the one who nearly died. I am. Can we maybe hurry this along?”
“Of course.” The registrar yanked her hand back as if she’d been burned. She set out to typing on again. When she’d finished entering the data, she walked around the counter, snapped an identification bracelet around Dee’s arm, and reached for the handles on the wheelchair. “Miss Ingram, I’ll take you back now.”
Before the receptionist pushed the chair forward, Booker cupped Dee’s shoulder again. He squatted so the two of them would be eye level. Just as it had when she’d opened the door, her sky-blue stare took him by surprise. Heat filled his cheeks and he wondered if he’d stepped back in time. Since when did he blush? He fought off jersey chasers weekly. Female attention didn’t make him uncomfortable. Except with Dee.
Booker swallowed once before speaking. “Will you be okay by yourself?”
“One hundred percent I will be.” Dee’s voice broke with the last word and Booker inched closer. With the new proximity, he could see red blotches popping up along her throat. He winced. His stupidity had caused this. All of it. He needed to make it right.
Dee nodded, giving him the go ahead to leave. The registrar pointed toward the television in the back of the room. She explained she’d be on break soon and could take him to the cafeteria to grab a bite while doctors tended to Dee. Booker thanked her, stood, and started toward a chair along the wall in the waiting room.
After two steps, Dee called out, “Some company wouldn’t hurt, though. You can come back with me, if you want to.”
Confused, Booker walked over to her. When the two were side-by-side, she added, “I can’t give you a chance to crack open that employee file, now can I?”
Chapter Six
Dee
As soon as the registrar left her and Booker alone, Dee regretted her decision to let him accompany her into the exam room. The smell of him perfumed the small expanse in minutes, a mix of mint and vanilla and some earthy scent she couldn’t put her finger on. It was heavenly and horrible.
She hadn’t spent this much time with her boss the whole time she’d worked for him thanks to her strategic planning, but the receptionist’s blatant flirting had revived the attraction she’d felt for Booker Watson during their first meeting. In succession, the attraction had convinced her to stay near him and awakened an intense possessiveness that she had no right to feel.
Feel it, she did, though, more so as time ticked on. Booker Watson was impossible to ignore, a fact she couldn’t deny as she continued to sneak glances his way. Each lasted longer than the last until he caught her.
As solemn as a shamed child, he folded his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry. I know it’s my fault you’re here and I hate it. But I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
Dee raised a hand. “You don’t need to. The fault is mine. I should have asked about the pineapple, but I was so shocked to see you I didn’t think.” A fresh wave of heat crawled up her neck, not from the allergy but embarrassment.
The frown on Booker’s face deepened. “I know I haven’t been the boss you deserve. I promise, from here on out you’ll be seeing a lot more of me.”
Dee froze, unable to speak. Did she want to see more of him? Two versions of herself argued internally. Yes. 100 percent. She shook her head. No, most definitely not.
“I don’t blame you for being skeptical.” Booker began again, and Dee wished she didn’t act out her thoughts. That stupid headshake. She wasn’t discounting his word!
“It’s not that I don’t believe you.” Dee scrambled for the right words. The last thing she needed was for her boss to think she didn’t trust him. The second to last thing she needed was more time with Booker Watson, not when her stupid crush continued to grow by the minute. Come on, girl, think. Dee slid to the bottom of the exam table, sitting so close to Booker she heard his deep inhale. “Things are fine the way they are. I have everything under control. You don’t have to check in with me.”
“But what if I want to?” Booker met her gaze. His green eyes darkened when his stare dropped to her lips. As he leaned forward, she matched his movements, all the while wondering why there were bells ringing in her head. Probably because you’re about to kiss your boss. Ignoring the bells and her own inner monologue, Dee drifted close to said boss.
The bells grew louder. Booker stilled and the moment was lost. His stare ping-ponged around the room as if he heard the chimes, too. With a sheepish half grin, the kind he often shot the camera on game day, he reached around her, picked up the device she’d forgotten was on the exam table, and held up her phone. “I think you have a call.”
Moving in slow motion as if being awakened from a dream, Dee accepted the phone and scurried backward. She took one look at the caller and groaned. “It’s the meeting I scheduled with Touchdown Taffy.”
Booker stood and began pacing, walking the width of the room in four wide strides. “I forgot about the meeting.”
“Me, too. I’ve kind of been preoccupied with suffocation.” Dee crossed her arms and feigned anger. At that she expected Booker to laugh, but to her surprise, he didn’t. His shoulders slumped, the fists at his side clenched, and his face fell. He looked like a sullen toddler, the way he had earlier when she’d told him she didn’t need him.
