After a quick check on Brandon and Katie—the latter of whom was enjoying ice cream as Brandon wrestled with parental guilt over his child being injured—Kyle made his way to Moore Wood, all of the research he’d gathered tucked neatly into a messenger bag.

He walked like a man with a purpose, striding from his car to the park’s entrance, his gaze scanning the area for Wes as he followed the path to the duck pond. Inside, though, it was hard to think of the business that had brought him here. Nerves danced in his stomach and his heart did a ridiculous little flip the moment he spotted Wes, the tall man dressed in more casual clothing that reminded Kyle of the first night they’d met. Moonlight cast an almost silvery sheen against his jet-black hair and bathed his tanned skin with ambient light, making him look almost ethereal, and even more intimidating than normal.

The man turned, hands in his pockets, and smiled when he spotted Kyle. That expression did even stranger things to him, and he decided to counteract the awkwardness by blurting out his intent.

“I brought everything I’ve been researching for the past week,” he patted his bag. “I thought we could go over it.”

“Sure.” Wes reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, swiping it to life to reveal a document. “I’ve got everything in here.”

That was… a lot more practical, though Kyle had to wonder how Wes managed to get everything on that system. He was pretty sure the man hadn’t updated the firmware since smart phones became a thing.

“There’s a bench I like to sit at sometimes. One of my favorite places in town, actually.”

Something strange was happening, because Kyle could swear Wes was actually nervous. It might have been a small thing to share something he enjoyed, but Kyle gathered that wasn’t the case for him. Knowing that this spot meant so much to the older man, he knew he needed to tread carefully.

“Lead the way,” he said with a smile, his heart thudding beneath his breast as he walked along with Wes, an awkward silence hanging between them.

It was broken, thankfully, when Wes asked, “Were you able to check on your niece?”

“She’s fine,” he answered with a laugh. “My brother’s feeding her all the ice cream she can eat right now, but I think that’s more for his benefit than hers.”

“He seems like a good father. Attentive. Caring. I’d say Katie’s in good hands.”

Kyle nodded, his smile borne of bride. “Yeah, he’s a good guy. He always has been. When we were kids, he used to volunteer to watch all of our younger cousins. It… drove me a little crazy, actually.” He let out a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wanted to hang out with my brother, not a bunch of five and six-year olds.”

They walked along a path, coming closer and closer to a big, clear lake. Shafts of moonlight poured down from the clouds, glinting on the water’s surface. Fireflies danced amidst the reeds, and Kyle found himself almost gaping at just how beautiful it was.

No, not just beautiful. There was something romantic about it all, a fact that flustered him to no end. Especially when Wes kept asking questions.

“You and your brother are close?”

A sharp pain lanced through his chest, dulling with the knowledge that it wasn’t the first—or last—time he’d feel that stab of guilt. “We were. Not as much anymore. I… left home as soon as I had the chance, and I didn’t really see him again until our dad died.”

They walked in silence for a bit, passing several benches that seemed perfectly fine. Wes had a specific spot in mind, though, and Kyle just followed along, idly wondering if he was being wooed.

It was a ridiculous thought. Wesley Monroe wasn’t the type of man who wooed someone—he knew that instinctively. And yet…

“It’s just up here,” Wes said, interrupting his thoughts. He gestured to a bench that sat just below a sycamore tree, on a small hill that overlooked the lake.

It was so beautiful, so pristine, that Kyle couldn’t help but ask, “How’d you find this place?”

They took a seat, the bench not really that small, but small enough to excuse Wes’ thigh pressing against his.

“I grew up nearby. My old house is less than a mile away,” he said, indicating the direction past the lake. “I used to come out here when I needed to… think.”

The word was strained, and Kyle’s curiosity was piqued. “Busy house?”

“Something like that,” Wes remarked. He pulled out his phone and, without missing a beat, said, “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Kyle pulled his messenger bag onto his lap, withdrawing a file folder filled with printouts. Most were financial records, accounts of how much the hospital spent on various services, with significant columns highlighted while others were underlined and still others were circled.

The chaos made sense to Kyle, but looking at it now, he realized he was going to have to explain his madness.

“So I went through and looked at all the non-essential services that could be cut without anyone losing their jobs. That’s what this is,” he pointed to a highlighted portion. “The circles denote places we can scale back and still serve Hidden Creek’s population, and the underlined sections are things that could actually use expansion.”

Focused care for seniors, for example. Like many rural areas, Hidden Creek had a fairly high population of older residents, and the concentration in surrounding areas was even larger. In Kyle’s experience, Hidden Creek Memorial really needed someone who was specially trained with seniors in mind.

But that was going to have to take a backseat for now. If they couldn’t keep the doors open, everyone would suffer—especially the older population that had nowhere else to go.

Wes leaned over to share his phone screen, and Kyle tried to ignore the sheer warmth emanating from the man’s body and how much it reminded him of their time in the on-call room. Wes radiated heat then, and it’d been an arousing and oddly comforting feeling to have the man’s body over top of his.

But that was definitely not the point of this meeting, even if Wes had shown a very personal interest in his life. Kyle ran that rhetoric through his mind over and over as they compared notes, consolidating their ideas into something they could type up for Director Sloane.

For the most part, the ease of working with Wes settled those nerves that rattled through him. Wes was a big picture kind of person, Kyle was learning. A dreamer through and through. He wanted Hidden Creek Memorial to be the absolute best hospital, fully focused on patient care with no expenses spared. But Kyle was more rational, and he frequently had to scale back Wes’ ideas to something that might have a chance of passing muster with a man who very clearly wanted to retire.

They worked well together. As well as they did in the exam room, and maybe even as well as they had in the on-call room.

The only “interruption”—if he could even call it that—was the fact that Wes interjected every now and again to ask him more about his family and himself. Did he grow up in Texas? Where did he end up going to school? Why had Brandon settled in Hidden Creek, of all places?

Some just seemed like idle curiosity. Maybe Wes was the type of person who didn’t like silence. But there were a few questions thrown in there that made him wonder. Especially when he looked up to find two men walking along the shore of the lake, hand in hand, whispering to one another—something Wes was also watching with what Kyle could only describe as a somewhat wistful expression.

Finally, he just blurted out, “Is this a date? Did you trick me into going on a date with you?”

Was it really a trick if he would have said yes? Wait. Would he have said yes? It all seemed insane.

“I don’t do dates,” Wes said, confirming the absurdity of the whole situation. And then he smirked in that sexy, secretive way that let Kyle know he was in trouble. “But if I did, this would be a nice spot for one, you have to admit.”

“Aside from the mountains of expense analysis,” Kyle muttered, hefting the stack he’d rested in his lap.

“Aside from that.”

Wes shifted beside him, almost seeming to squirm. Obviously Kyle was just projecting, because that wasn’t remotely possible. Wes was confident. The alpha of the hospital. Alphas made others squirm beneath them. They didn’t take part in the squirming themselves.

“It wasn’t a date,” Wes affirmed, glancing back at Kyle, “but it could be. We could get a bite to eat. Talk for a bit.”

Kyle almost gaped at the man, feeling a blush rise in his cheeks. He was being wooed, whether it was intentional or not. And he found himself feeling… okay with that. Rebecca had never taken the time to show him she was interested. She’d made it clear that was his job in the relationship, and she just basked in his attention.

With Wes, things were oddly on more equal footing. Even when the man pinned him with one of those intense stares that made him feel like a hare caught inches away from a wolf’s maw.

“Or we could grab some pizza or gyros and go back to my place.”

“What about the report?” Kyle asked weakly, already knowing he didn’t care. Not right now, at least.

“We can get it ready tomorrow. Not like Sloane’s going to close the place overnight.”

Wes leaned closer, his thigh pressed more fully against Kyle’s, and for the first time Kyle saw just how nervous he was, too. There was a humanity in his eyes, an uncertainty that was endearing. And ultimately, that was what swayed him fully into the direction he’d already been leaning.

He wanted more of what had happened between them. More of Wes’ hands and mouth on him. More of their bodies pressed together. More wanton exploration of this new facet of who he was. If the heat in Wes’ steel grey eyes was any indication, he wanted all of that, too.

But that slight proof of vulnerability made it clear there was something more behind it. All the questions, all the interest, the genuine concern for his family earlier. It spoke to something deeper that Kyle was afraid to name… but not afraid to experience.

“I’d like that,” Kyle said, almost breathless. The smile that suddenly bloomed on Wes’ face was worth the tug of nervousness.

He stood from the bench and followed the man back to the parking lot, passing along the bank of that beautiful, moonlit lake, convinced now more than ever that Wes had planned this all along.

And not minding one bit.