Series: Silver Spoon MC Series by Nichole Rose
Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 38632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 193(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 193(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
"They're dead," I whisper past the lump in my throat. "It happened a little over a week ago."
"Shit," he curses, regret flaring in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize…"
"It's fine," I lie, waving off his apology. I wave off the grief too, pushing it back down to deal with later. I'll cry when I'm alone in the shower like I do every night. It's the only time to myself I have these days. Every other minute of my day is spent with complete strangers in waiting rooms or the cafeteria or at Scout's bedside.
"Do you need a minute?"
"No." I quickly shake my head. "I need to get back as soon as possible."
He nods and rises to his feet.
I swallow hard. Lord, he's big. Not overweight just…big. He's maybe six-three with broad shoulders and a barrel chest. He looks more like a football player than a heart surgeon. Then again, Gage was an actor before he went to medical school…and I lived in a tiny trailer in the middle of nowhere before landing my dream job writing game apps for Troian's family's company. We all have lives and pasts, don't we? We all came from somewhere and we're all going somewhere.
Most of us, I amend silently, thinking about Siobhan again.
"Come on, Sleeping Beauty," Dr. Grimes says, holding out a hand to me. "Let's move to my desk and we'll talk about your niece."
I hesitate for a second and then place my hand in his. As soon as he touches me, that same electrical spark shoots up my arm. He feels it too and grits his teeth, letting out a soft curse. I stumble when he pulls me up, nearly bumping into him before I catch myself. He steadies me with a hand on my waist.
"Jesus, you're tiny," he mutters.
"Am not," I whisper, something soft washing through me. No one has ever accused me of being tiny. Short, yes. I'm barely five-three. But I'm thick and curvy and have been my whole life. I like the sound of this man calling me tiny though. Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe I need him to see me as strong and capable and powerful, but something about him seeing me as delicate doesn't immediately make me want to smash the patriarchy.
"Yeah, you are." He tips his head down toward mine, his expression soft. "How old are you, Samara?"
"Old enough to provide for Scout." I've already been through the whole spiel with the social worker assigned the Scout's case.
"Good to know," he says, leaning closer. There are flecks of jade in his eyes. "But that's not why I'm asking. I'm not questioning your ability to care for your niece. How old are you?"
"Twenty-two."
"You're young."
"I could say the same about you," I remind him, trying not to stare at his lips. His cologne is making me dizzy. Or maybe it's just him. "I've seen a lot of doctors this week. None of them look like you."
His lips tip up into that crooked grin again. "You know what makes me a hell of a doctor?"
"What?" I whisper, completely transfixed by this man. There's something about him that's just…spellbinding. I want to lean in closer, enfold myself into his personal space, and let his shadow embrace me. I want to let him hold me until my world makes sense again.
No. No way, Samara. He's going to be Scout's surgeon. That's it.
"My age," he says, his deep voice whisper soft. Somehow, his eyes seem to whisper too, though I don't even know how that's possible. "I've got steady hands and a stubborn streak a mile wide. I decided when I was still a kid that I wanted to save other kids, so that's what I've dedicated my whole life to doing. I'm one of the best pediatric heart surgeons in the country because I wanted to be one of the best. I didn't learn through trial and error or because wisdom comes with age. I learned because I wanted to learn, understand?"
"That's what Gage, um, Dr. Bronx said," I say. He swore that if anyone could save Scout's life, this man could. He was confident of that fact. I've known Gage since I started working for Troian two years ago. He doesn't make promises he can't keep.
"He said I was a stubborn bastard, didn't he?" Dr. Grimes asks, his grin growing.
"Maybe."
The deep rumble of his laugh washes through me. My nipples tighten as a frisson of heat dances in my lower belly. His voice is incredible but that laugh? Wow.
"Come on," he says, leading me toward his desk.
Only then do I realize he's still holding onto my hand. He doesn't look like he plans to let it go, so I follow behind him, quickly trying to smooth my hair into order with my free hand. It probably didn't do much good. I didn't come dressed to impress today. I came prepared for another long day of meetings and sitting around the hospital.