Healing Touch: Play Doctor, Book 2 (20 page)

“Why do I get the feeling that was too easy?” She peeked around the doorframe, surprised and interested.

“Because I’m not giving up on us.” He folded his arms. “You can kick me out, but I’ll keep coming around. Unless you can look me in the eye and tell me you don’t give a shit about everything that’s happened this week. If it was just some random fun to you…”

“You know it wasn’t.” Her quick denial buoyed his confidence.

“Not for me, either.” Luke grimaced. “Before I go, I have to say I’m sorry one of my casual affairs impacted you. I won’t forget that something meaningless ruined something treasured. I’m done with those days.”

“A little too late to decide that now.” Brielle couldn’t hide the tremble of her lower lip, no matter how hard she bit it to keep it from wobbling.

“I’d already kind of made up my mind about empty sex.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, surprised to find it smooth again. Ah, that felt better. Stupid goatee. Never had been right for him. Brooding didn’t suit him as well as it did Kurt, either. Action held much more appeal.

“Just needed one last go-around to work it out of your system?” Disgust tinged her question. “Well, too bad, Luke. I’m not the kind of girl who puts up with disloyalty anymore. I deserve better.”

Her conviction filled him with pride. She’d come so far, so quickly. “Damn fucking straight you do. And if I’d violated your trust, I wouldn’t have bothered to come back here tonight. I would never cheat on my girlfriend. I never have. Not in all my life. The women I slept with for fun knew it was nothing more. Hell, most of them aren’t looking for anything permanent either. Pretty things, hot sex—that’s enough for them.”

She blinked.

Luke seized the opportunity to sway her. “It was fine for me too. But not anymore. I want the real thing. The kind of love Kurt has for Becca. It’s powerful. Life changing. I can’t believe that fucker found it before me. But you were worth waiting for, Brielle.”

Her jaw hung open. Still she didn’t utter a peep.

So he went for the kill. If she didn’t believe him, there was nothing more he could do. He let truth ring in every single heartfelt word he spoke. “I swear to you, Sandy is nothing to me. A fun time. One I haven’t bothered with in months. Last night, I wanted to talk to you, but I hoped you were sleeping soundly. I wrapped up around two in the morning. Still, I kept my phone in bed with me in case you needed me. I had my hand on the damn thing and I must have hit some buttons when I rolled over onto it.”

“You’re telling me you sleep-dialed some ex-bimbo? Did you have narcoleptic phone sex too? She rattled on about your heavy-breathing session last night.
Last night,
Luke. Not months ago.” She swallowed hard as she looked away.

“She’s a smart-mouthed lady.” Luke grimaced. “She was giving me shit about snoring into the phone, despite her yelling at me apparently. I didn’t even know I’d done it until I called her back after I found my phone on my desk, her number in the recent calls, and you missing from my office.”

“I’d hardly describe the things she said as ladylike.” Brielle turned her nose up. She looked so damn cute he could barely stand it.

A door opened down the hallway and an elderly man poked his head out. “Ms. Norris, is this guy bothering you? I can call the cops if you want.”

“No, Mr. Carter. It’s okay. Luke was just leaving.” Brielle glared at him.

“I wasn’t.” He stood firm. “Not unless you make me.”

“Brielle,” the older man called again.

“We’ll be quiet. I’m sorry for disturbing you.” She tried to placate him.

“Are you kidding? This is more interesting than
Jersey Shore
reruns any day.” He gawked at them. “But I think you should let the poor guy inside. You’ve got his balls in a bind.”

Brielle looked from Mr. Carter to Luke and back. Then she burst out laughing.

The sound lightened Luke’s heart.

“Please, Brielle,” he tried again, “I won’t hurt you. You don’t need to be afraid.”

“I know that.” She grimaced. “At least not physically. I believe you won’t lay a hand on me.”

At least not in anger, he thought.

“He better not, or I’ll kick his ass. I was in the navy back in the day.” Mr. Carter butted in again.

“Jesus. Fine.” Brielle flung open the door and stepped back. “Get in here so we can finish this. I’m not saying you’re staying, or that I forgive you, but at least we can have a civilized discussion before we say goodbye.”

“Thank you, Mr. Carter.” Luke grinned at the older man, wondering what he could give the guy for Christmas.

“Don’t muck it up.” He shot Luke a salute then disappeared inside. The blaring TV came on a few seconds later, guaranteeing their privacy despite the thin walls.

Brielle slumped with her back against the elevated portion of the kitchen counter, which formed a bar on the living room side of the island. Exhausted from her predawn bake-a-thon, and the catastrophe with Luke this afternoon, she couldn’t bear to stand up straight.

Why did he have to look so damn sexy all the time? The sadness etching grooves into his jaw only enhanced his appeal.

Sunshine with a hint of shade.

Anger flared. How could she be such a pushover? A few tiny, hardly believable excuses and she longed to launch herself into his arms.

“Damn, it sucks when you look at me like that.” He scrubbed his hands through his hair, rearranging yet not ordering the tousled mop. “I wanted to be your hero, not another guy who let you down. I messed that up in less than forty-eight hours. I may be dumb, but I’m not a jerk. Nothing happened between Sandy and me. At least, not yesterday. You were the only woman I was dreaming about.”

“So what you’re saying is that I’m so dull, I knocked you out and caused you to snore uncontrollably?” Despite the turbulence churning the air between them, she couldn’t suppress the silly side he evoked in her.

“Holy cow.” He tugged on the ends of his hair. “No. That’s not—I mean, more like a twelve-hour day on the heels of our sexfest drained me dry.”

When she choked on a laugh, he caught on.

“Wait. Was that a joke? You’re
teasing
a dying man?” He clutched his gut and staggered in a horrible mock croak worthy of an old spaghetti western.

“Hell yes.” A smile snuck on to her face. “It seems only fair that you suffer as much as I have this afternoon. And last night… I fucking missed you, Luke. Like hell. Meanwhile, you were off snoring over the line to some ridiculously beautiful woman.”

“Ah shit, Cookie. I missed you more.” He took a tentative step forward.

Brielle couldn’t find her voice to command him to stay put.

“Do I at least get one last wish before you put me out of my misery?”

“That depends. Will you go home if I say yes?” She propped her hand on her hip. If she didn’t oust him soon, she’d cave. In truth, she believed his story, even if she feared she might be the most gullible person on the face of the planet.

Relief swamped her twice over. Her judgment hadn’t been completely skewed. And he seemed oblivious to the less-than-flattering article in the student paper. Brielle had Sandy to thank for alerting her to the cover photo of Luke toting “a troubled employee” out of the coat closet. She’d worried the exposure might have contributed to his change of heart.

After she and Becca had returned from their delivery-gone-wrong, she’d cleared every copy from the plexidispenser outside the Franklin Building. If Sandy hadn’t tipped Luke off, Brielle sure as shit wasn’t about to open another can of worms.

“I’ll leave if you still want me to. Just let me hug you first. It tears me up knowing you were upset because of me.” He held his arms open wide. The sincerity in his gorgeous eyes squashed her resistance.

She didn’t flinch when he approached, slowly, placing one foot in front of the other until her nose touched his chest.

“Put your arms around me, Brielle?” The uncertainty in his question was a first.

She hated it.

If nothing else, she was sure about how she felt for this man. Maybe nothing else mattered. And just then she realized he needed to be embraced as much as she did. Always the life of the party, the advanced-class clown…

A lot of his life had been spent seeking attention. Affection might be what he’d really required all along. The poor substitute couldn’t sustain him forever.

How many women had bothered to look beyond his affluence, intelligent wit and pure adorableness to the lost boy she had sensed all along?

This part of him was what drew her. A kindred spirit to the girl in the closet.

She couldn’t forsake him after he’d helped her unlock the door and start emerging from the shadows.

Brielle turned her face and leaned forward so that her cheek rested on his chest. She looped her arms gently around his waist.

Timid Luke vanished so fast, she wondered if she’d imagined that facet of his personality. He engulfed her in a bear hug, nuzzling his nose into her hair and breathing deep. “Sandy’s nowhere near as lovely as you are, by the way.”

“Nice try.” She patted between his shoulder blades. “I saw her picture on your phone, remember? Besides, she said so herself.”

“What?” He drew away just far enough to peer down at her then frown. “You realize, whatever the hell she spouted off, it was just a cover for her jealousy, right? Never again. The contact is deleted, along with the others like it. I told her not to bother calling. Ever. Those days are over. I swear to you.”

Her frozen core thawed a bit more in the face of his fiery reassurance.

“Does this mean we’re dating?” Her fingers tightened on his back. “An exclusive couple?”

“I thought I’d made that part pretty obvious.” Luke growled softly in her ear before nipping the lobe. “Yes. Get used to introducing me as your boyfriend.”

“It seems like a tame label for…this.” A shrug rocked her against his chest.

“It’s whatever we make of it. I do have one question though.” Luke fisted his hands in her hair and used the resulting pressure to angle her head back to stare into her eyes. She loved the firm hold he had on her, promising he wouldn’t let her go. “Since we’re mostly good here, may I have my cookies now?”

“Well, first off, I’m sorry to say Becca and I put a pretty big dent in them when I was trying to replace you with trans fats galore.” She licked her lips, watching his stare track the muscle’s progress as it wet her mouth. “And second, I think I’d like you to make a meal of me before we serve dessert.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice.

“I’ve replayed Wednesday night in my mind a million times since you climbed off my bike the next morning.” He slid his hands up her rib cage until they locked beneath her armpits. Then he plucked her from the floor, carrying her as if she weighed nothing. “I keep wondering if it could have been as good as I remember.”

“It seemed divine to me.” She recalled his singing and splashing before he got down to serious business. Was it always like that for him? Fun paired with heat. “Clearly, I’m nowhere near as experienced as you, though.”

Luke aimed toward the dinette table she’d squashed into a nook where the kitchen and living room overlapped. He shifted her to one hip while he removed the glass shield of a hurricane lamp she’d rescued from the Sunday flea market. Then he transferred a candle and the antique marbles she’d used to make a colorful centerpiece out of the found art.

When he’d set the components carefully aside on the bar, which he could reach by merely leaning, he placed her on top of the rickety butcher-block-topped furniture. She squeaked, “Is this going to hold?”

“I wasn’t planning on climbing on top of you.” He rested his forehead on hers. Sitting with her legs spread around his torso, the growing length of his erection stole her concentration. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about that?”

“Can we start with a kiss?” She ran her hands from his tight pecs to his rock-hard abdomen. The wall of muscles rose and fell unevenly with his breathing.

“It would certainly be the best
amuse-bouche
I’ve ever had.” Leaning in, he dusted his lips over hers so gently she felt prized.

“I don’t know what that is, but it sounds nice.” Especially if it was anything like the teeny-tiny, emotion-packed kiss he’d just bestowed.

“If therapy isn’t too draining, I’ll take you out to dinner tomorrow night. To celebrate. Our first-week anniversary.” They grinned at each other. “I’ll show you then.”

“Sold.” She didn’t have a lot of free brain cells to record his trivia at the moment. “I’ll try to pay attention better then.”

“Unless I can talk you into sharing my side of the booth, in which case I can think of better uses for your concentration.”

Brielle laughed. “You can try, Dr. Malone, but I am a very proper kind of woman. I would never fool around with you in a public place like that.”

“Or on a kitchen table?” He swept her arms from behind her, spilling her onto her back.

“Certainly not.” A sigh puffed from her lips when he began to work her tank top up her belly, kissing every inch he exposed below the hem. “Well, maybe, if you keep doing that.”

A flick of his tongue resulted in goose bumps along her arms. Her spine arched, lifting her midsection from the table. He slid his arms beneath her, supporting her so she rested in his hold.