Chapter 7
AT LEAST HE DIDN’T SNORE.
What an odd thing to think while a patient was passed out on her sofa.
She should be more concerned about how unprofessional it was to have a man sleeping on her office couch. Not to mention the fact that Rowen had been sleeping now for six hours. His cousin reminded her that he worked a twenty-four-hour shift and that he probably hadn’t slept at all. She hadn’t known many first responders, but she understood what the job entailed.
Throughout the day, she’d carefully check his pulse. Twice, she even flashed a pen light in his eyes, checking his pupils. He stirred both times, swatting at her, calling her MeMe, and something about cleaning the garage later.
Standing over him now, one arm stretched out over his head, the other folded across his stomach, and a foot dangling off the couch, she wondered how she could have thought a man like Rowen could be anything like Jeff.
“Rowen,” she whispered, nudging his shoulder. “Wake up.”
He rolled his head to the side and let out a long sigh as his eyes blinked open. “How long have I been asleep?” He rubbed the stubble on his face as he adjusted himself to a more upright position.
Taking his wrist, she sat down on the sofa. She didn’t need to check his pulse, she just wanted to touch him.
“About six hours.”
“What!?” His eyes popped open-wide. “You’re joking, right?”
“Nope. I just sent home the last of my staff and figured it was time to wake you up. Do you always sleep like this after a shift?”
“If there were a lot of calls, yeah.” He rubbed the side of his mouth.
“Are you sore?”
“No, which I find weird, and even more strange, I barely remember any of it.”
She let go of his wrist, realizing she hadn’t counted a single pulse.
“Everything go okay?” he asked.
“You have a temporary crown in place.”
“Temporary as in I have to do that again?” His nose crinkled with his wide eyes.
“No. The permanent crown will be here next week and it’s simply swapping them out. It shouldn’t hurt, though some patients do feel a quick sharp pain when I put in the new one, but I can numb you if you want. I will warn you, there is drilling.” She rested her hand on his thigh and squeezed gently. “But only on the crown, not your tooth, just to adjust your bite so it’s not off.”
Her gaze locked with his for a long, intense moment. His hand glided over hers, then up her arm, sending a warm tingle and igniting a fire deep in her gut.
“Thank you,” he whispered, his hand palming her check as he lifted his strong torso off the sofa. “I’m still not a fan of your profession, but I am a fan of yours.”
His lips brushed hers in a tender, slow dance.
Her eyelids fluttered. His warm tongue slipped into her mouth, exploring, searching. She gripped his broad shoulders. His muscles flexed under her touch. Her body turned to putty, waiting for his gentle fingers to mold, kneed, and caress her into oblivion. A low moan escaped her lips as his hand cupped the underswell of her breast, his thumb braising her nipple.
Drunk with desire and blind passion, she shifted her body, straddling his legs, wrapping her arms around him.
His hands roamed her body, caressing gently one second, massaging deep the next.
He pulled back, cupping her face. “Are you hungry?”
“What?” she panted out, her body screaming to be taken, shared, devoured.
“I’m starving. We can either go out or cook. You choose.”
She cocked her head, staring into his deep eyes. “You’re thinking about food now?”
He kissed the side of her neck, nibbling a little. “I’ve been out cold for hours. I need something to eat, and honestly, if this is going to lead to where I think it is, I don’t want to do it here, on your sofa, in your office. I’d much prefer a bed.”
“You shouldn’t start what you don’t intend on finishing,” she said, pushing against his chest, grateful he’d had more commonsense than she did, yet annoyed he’d put the brakes on. She wasn’t ready to have sex, no matter how attracted she was to Rowen.
Or how much she liked him.
He cupped the back of her head, pulling her body tight against his chest. “I intend on finishing, but maybe I’d like to romance my way there.” He kissed, gently parting her lips with his tongue. “Are we going out to eat? Or shall one of us cook?” he asked, staring at her with undeniable lust.
She swallowed. “I’m a shitty cook. I was going to make a salad.”
“You make a salad, and I’ll stop and get steaks and a bottle of red.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Sounds like a date.” He kissed her nose, then lifted her without effort, setting her feet on the ground. “I’ll see you back at your place. I’ll text you when you can fire up the grill.”
Before she could respond, he’d raced out the door. She heard his foots clomp on the staircase. Her body jerked the second the front door slammed shut.
She ran to the window and watched as Rowen jogged across the parking lot to his red pick-up. Damn, he had a nice ass.
Everything about him drizzled with a combination of pure masculine sex and raw desire.
Shit. She raced to her desk, shutting down her laptop. She wanted to get home, change into something a little sexier, get the salad ready, and then act like it was all casual.
Yeah right.
The entire ride back to her house, her body sizzled with anticipation. Ready or not, she wanted Rowen. As soon as she stepped foot into her house, her nerves flared up, causing her to tremble, and not in a good way.
The last time Jeff had hit her, he’d pinned her to the ground and held her hands over her head while he sat on her. She’d never felt more vulnerable in her life. He could have really hurt her. Had it not been for the phone ringing, she didn’t know what Jeff could have done to her. She didn’t consider herself weak, not by any means, but she was a petite woman who understood her limitations.
She tossed her keys and purse on the counter. Rowen was one of the good guys. Kind. Gentle.
He would never hit anyone, much less a woman.
Never.
She gathered the ingredients for a salad, opting not to change her clothes. If he liked her…wanted her…then she could be wearing sweats, and he wouldn't care.
Sweats!
Okay, so it was too hot for actual sweats, but every time Rowen had seen her, she had full make-up on and either professional clothing or conservative summer wear. Jeff had always wanted her to dress to the nines, even at home. Once, he even suggested she tattoo her eyeliner on. She’d thought he was joking, but later that night, he pointed out a half dozen women at the club who had done it.
She’d given fitting in at the club the good old college try, but at the end of the day, she preferred a neighborhood barbeque, pigs roasting and all, over a cocktail dress and martinis.
She raced upstairs and found a pair of loose fitting jean shorts and a black tank top. Out of her bedroom window, she saw Rowen getting out of his truck with a couple of bags. Thankfully, he ducked into his house, giving her time to wash off her make-up and toss her hair in a ponytail.
The idea that Jeff had wanted her to go work-out with her face all dolled up had been so ludicrous, she’d laughed the first time he mentioned it. When she refused, he’d gotten pissed off. More angry than what she deemed normal. But the day she found herself standing in front of the mirror, in exercise clothing, dabbing on lipstick, was the day she knew she needed to get out of her marriage.
Two weeks later, Jeff hit her for the very last time.
A loud knock echoed through the hallway.
“Come in,” she yelled. Her heart hammered so hard she thought it might burst through her chest. She bolted through the house as fast as her legs could take her, until she got to the bottom of the stairs. Sucking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she rounded the corner into the kitchen.
Rowen had his back to her as he set a bottle of wine on the counter. The fresh smell of a musky soap filled her lungs. He wore a pair of light blue shorts and a white t-shirt with some surf shop image on the back. Her fingers twitched, wanting to run her hands through his soft, wet hair.
“Sorry I took so long, I needed a quick shower.” He turned, smiling. “Well, hello,” he said, closing the gap between them. His eyes smoldered with a flicker of flames.
His arm wrapped around her waist, yanking her to his chest. His other hand palmed her cheek, and then he took her chin between his forefinger and thumb. “You’re one hell of a sexy woman, Dr. Holbrook.”
Before she could respond, his tongue brushed against her lips with a hot sizzle. He tasted of fresh mint and smelled like a cool night around the campfire. He held tight, raising her up on tip-toes as he deepened the kiss. His touch sizzled across her skin as his hands slid under her t-shirt. Everything about the kiss felt like home.
He backed up and stared at her for a long moment.
“What was that for?” she asked in a breathless moan.
“You dress up real nice, but damn, I like this look the best.”
Heat filled her cheeks and tears threatened to sting the corner of her eyes. The fact he found her beautiful when she wasn’t even trying made her want to rip his clothes off right in the middle of her kitchen.
Immediately after that thought, she shivered, remembering his size and strength. God, she loathed her ex-husband. Somehow she had to take her life back. All of it.
“That’s ridiculous. I look like—”
He placed his finger on her lips, hushing her. “You look like the prettiest girl ever.”
She cocked her head. “Flattery might get you somewhere.”
He smiled.
“I can’t believe you never had braces. You’re teeth a perfectly straight.”
“Now that’s a buzz kill, considering you’ve been insanely intimate with the inner workings of my mouth.”
She lowered her heels to the floor “Well, when you put it that way, is suppose it does.”
“I started the grill, so let’s put the steaks on.”
“You do that and I’ll open the wine.” Not wanting to let him go just yet, she rubbed her hands across his shoulders, looping them behind his neck, leaning her chest against his.
He groaned. “I haven’t had anything substantial to eat since I broke that tooth. I’ll pass-out before I get to second base.”
“Well, that would suck for you.” She leaned up and gave him a quick but wet kiss before patting his chest. “Let’s cook us some food. Oh, I forgot to tell you to be careful chewing on the right side. Could pop the temporary out.”
“Buzz kill.” He waved his hand in the air, pulling the steaks off the counter. “But thanks for the tip.” He stepped outside, the door clicking shut behind him.
Oy. She jumped into the deep end of the ocean without a lifeline. Wrestling with the bottle of wine, the doubts and insecurity about her judgment in men wiggled their way into her mind. Jeff had never said a negative thing about her appearance until after they’d gotten engaged. Even then, it had been more of a backwards dig. “Oh, baby, that’s cute, but a Westerfield wife has to dress the part.”
She shivered at the memory.
Maybe she needed to slow the train down.
After pouring two glasses of wine, she stepped outside into the hot, humid Texas evening air. Her patio wasn’t quite as nice as Rowen’s, with weeds coming up between some cracks. She had a small round picnic table, two Adirondack chairs, and a gas fire thing she’d never been able to get working.
“Here you go.” She handed a glass to Rowen. “Cheers.”
Her backyard butted up to the house of a newly married couple. She’d met them at the barbeque. Cute young couple trying to get pregnant. She sipped her wine, curling one arm around her middle, watching Suzie dart between some trees, trying to catch one of her bothers. When she’d chosen to go to medical school and then dentistry, she knew marriage and kids would come later in life, and she was okay with that.
But she’d thought she’d have at least one kid by the time she’d turned thirty-six and that was seven months ago.
“How do you like your steak?”
“Medium, but a little more on the rare side, if that makes sense.” She perched herself in one of the chairs and watch Rowen master the grill. The sounds of kids laughing and neighbors chatting filled her ears. She closed her eyes, focusing on the sweet noise of…normal. At least she had that. No more dinner parties where the expectations of children were so high that with each event someone fell from glory, giving everyone something to gossip about the next week.
“Is the salad inside?”
She jerked at the sound of Rowen’s voice.
“I’ll get it,” she said.
“Nope. You’re too comfortable right there.”
She wasn’t about to argue with him. She inhaled the thick scent of grilled spices. Her stomach growled like a lion on the hunt.
Rowen came back out with the salad and everything else they needed, including the rest of the wine. They set the table like they’d been doing it together for years, not saying a single word to one another.
Little whispered voices echoed from somewhere behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and spotted Suzie and her brother spying from the bushes. “We have company,” Heather said, sitting down next to Rowen at the table, steak and salad already on her plate.
“I noticed.” Rowen wasted no time carving into his steak and shoving a huge chunk in his mouth, moaning a little.
“Chew on the left side, please.”
He paused the movement of his mouth with both elbows on the table, fork in one hand, knife in the other and stared at her as he shifted the food in his mouth before swallowing. “Yes, ma’am.” He carved out another piece and stuffed his mouth like this was his last meal.
She chuckled as she dug into her own plate of food. To say Rowen had some skills at the grill would be a disservice to the man’s cooking. “This is fantastic, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He winked. “And I don’t think I really thanked you for this morning. You might have changed my mind about one particular dentist.”
“You might not feel that way when you get my bill.”
The both laughed, catching each other's gaze as two children giggled behind them.
“What are we going to do about those two?” she asked.
Rowen wiped his mouth with his napkin. She still had half a steak left, and his plate looked as if it had been licked clean.
“Well, we can do nothing and they will go report back to Mrs. Baker that we shared a private dinner. Or we can give them something juicy to report that will also make them scurry on home.”
“Juicy how?”
He leaned over, gliding his hand across the back of her neck. His deep, dark eyes glistened with intense passion. Tilting his head, he pressed his mouth against hers in a sweet kiss. It wasn’t anything magical, but it was potent.
A loud giggle echoed in the night.
“Ewe, gross,” a little boys’ voice whispered.
Leaves rusted and the sound of little feet clomping on the ground tickled her ears.
But her entire focus was on the mouth glued to hers and the hand smoothing over the very top part of her ass…on her bare skin…fingers dangerously close to being inside her shorts.
“Mommy!” Suzie’s voice shrilled. “Guess what I just saw!”
Rowen pulled away, a smile so wide on his face his cheeks had to hurt.
“We just scarred two children for life,” she said, her body flush from a combination of excitement and embarrassment. “Not to mention everyone will officially believe we are dating.”
“Would that be such a bad thing?” His hand remained on the small of her back, his thumb doing little circles on her spine. “I kind of dig you.”
She laughed at the expression with as much lightness as she could muster, while her insides rattled like a snake’s tail. “I kind of dig you back, but—”
“Did you have to go and ruin it with a ‘but’?”
All night she’d waffled between wanting to sleep with him, and all her insecurities about trusting men kept nagging at her. “I haven’t dated at all since my divorce and we’ve seemed to have started off pretty fast.”
“You want to slow things down?” he questioned with an arched brow.
“I do. I want to date, because thus far we haven’t gone on a single one.”
“This feels like a date.” He raised his glass before taking a good swig.
“I suppose it is, but—”
“There is that damn ‘but’ again.”
His tone indicated he was being somewhat playful, but she could tell by the way his eye twitched, he wasn’t too keen on slowing down.
“You’ve been divorced longer than I have and you’ve dated a few women since, right?”
He nodded.
“I’ve haven’t dated anyone, so as much as I’d like to let you move around my bases, can we go on a few more dates?”
His wine must have gone down the wrong pipe, because he coughed, gagged, and spit a little out on his plate. “An old song by Meat Loaf is now playing my head.”
“Oh my God.” She gathered up the plates, as the words from the famous song blared in her brain.
Rowen pounded his chest, then took a long sip of water. “Okay, we go on a few more dates before I try to move past first.”
“I’m never going to be able to watch baseball again.”
He gave her back a little squeeze. “Let me clean off your grill and maybe we can go for a walk.”
“I’d like that.” She carried the plates inside, surprised he helped her clear the table.
While she did the dishes, she watched him through the window as he wiped down the outside of her grill. He reminded her of a big old teddy bear, all sweet and cuddly.
Especially the cuddly part.
Rowen broke out in a jog, darting across the yards toward the young couple’s house. They were trying to get something off the roof of their car, but it didn’t look like it was going to well.
Rowen to the rescue.
She watched in awe as he helped the couple before heading back, stopping quickly to pick up and toss back a stray ball that one of the Easton’s had just kicked over.
No way could anyone fake having that big of a heart.
“Sorry about that,” he said as he walked through the door. “The—”
She cut him off by wrapping her arms around him and smashing her mouth against his in a fury of passion…or lust…or just plain animal heat.
She didn’t care what it was, only that she wanted it with Rowen.
“Whoa.” He curled his fingers around her hips and gently pushed her back. “What happened to taking things slow? Dating?”
She leaned her chest against his, raising up on tip-toe, and cupped his face. “We’re dating, and people make-out all the time while they are dating, and often making out leads to heavy petting which—”
He covered her mouth with his hand. “Breathe,” he whispered, gliding his fingers across her cheek. “I only made out about half what you said, because it came flying out of your mouth so fast.”
“Come on.” She snagged the second bottle of wine off the counter. “Get our glasses.”
“Where are we going?”
“Upstairs.”
“Why?”
“To play some baseball,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “I know what I said, but let’s face it, we’re going to end up sleeping together sooner or later, why torture ourselves?”
Heather’s voice may have sounded confident, but her stomach twisted in knots and her damn hands were so sweaty, she found it difficult to maintain a good grip on the wine bottle.
Not only could she hear Rowan right behind her, she could have sworn she felt his gaze roaming over her body like lava rolling down the side of a volcano. But she wanted to have a normal life again and that meant dating.
And sex.
God, she needed another glass of wine.
She stepped into her bedroom and flicked on the lights, even though the sun hadn’t quite settled behind the horizon, her bedroom showed signs of night, with shadows of darkness filling the room.
Maybe she should have kept the lights off.
She heard the clinking of glasses and turned. Rowen had set them on her dresser.
“Did you bring an opener?”
He pulled one out of his back pocket, setting it next to the glasses.
Her breath hitched as he took the wine bottle from her hands. “No more wine, for now.”
“Why not?”
“Because if you need another glass to be with me, then we shouldn’t be together at all.” He inched closer, taking her shaking hand.
“Are you afraid of me?”
“No,” she said softly, and she meant it.
“Then why are you trembling?” He smoothed his palm over her hand.
“I’m nervous, that’s all.”
He raised her hand and rested it on his shoulder, gliding his across her arm, tangling his fingers in her hair. His gaze tender and kind.
“It’s been a while.”
“I want to be with you, but—”
She silenced him with a kiss. The only way to move forward, whether it be with Rowen, or any man, was to get back in the saddle.