Wrong Number: A Forbidden Love Age-Gap Romance

by Iris Trovao

  “Ready,” Brett urged.

  Jolie swallowed hard. “This is not how I wanted this date to go,” she whispered, and couldn’t help but smile as Carson laughed.

  “Let’s get you down and taken care of before Brett faints.”

  She took a deep breath and let go of her hand holds, holding on to the rope. She lowered her right leg, bracing herself against the wall with her good foot, and looked down at the still-frowning employee.

  “Easy, now,” he called, and began to lower her.

  Once she was back on the ground, she put all of her weight on her right foot and looked up as Carson made his way down.

  “Be careful. You’re the doctor, you can’t operate on yourself.” She held her breath until he finally reached the floor, chuckling.

  Brett approached, but Carson put up a hand. “We’re fine. I’ll take her to the waiting room.”

  The employee shrugged and sauntered off to help one of the other climbers, and the receptionist shook her head before heading back to her desk.

  Jolie’s cheeks burned, and she wrinkled her nose.

  Carson unclipped her harness from the rope and put his hands on her hips to steady her. “Are you alright?”

  Her breath caught in her throat. She felt so tiny in his hands, so feminine. His palms radiated fire, and his concerned gaze made her lightheaded. She’d come into this day hell bent on torturing him, and here she was, weak in the knees and dying to kiss him while he went all professional doctor.

  “Yeah,” she finally rasped. “Thanks to you.”

  “Can you stand?” He looked down at her left leg.

  She gingerly flattened her left foot, putting a bit of weight on it. The sparking pain had lessened to a dull ache, and she nodded.

  “I'll get these off and we’ll go sit in the waiting room so I can have a look at it, okay?” He was so calm, so collected, and she couldn’t stop herself from swooning internally.

  She’d enjoyed disarming him immensely—he was so adorable when he was blushing beneath her forwardness, but seeing him so in control was something else. God, how I want this man.

  He loosened his harness and dropped it on the floor, reaching out and doing the same with hers. His knuckles brushed her inner thigh and her breath hitched involuntarily, and only then did his mask crack. He froze for a split second before resuming his task, and she wondered what he was picturing in there. Brushing her thigh, making her gasp, making her writhe…

  But the collected doctor was in control again, and he slipped an arm around her. Jolie thought he was going to help her walk, but then her world tilted, and it took her a second to realize he’d bent and hooked under her knees.

  Could you be any more swoon worthy? she thought helplessly. “I’m not paralyzed, you know.”

  He smiled down at her, and there was something in his eyes…a hint of mischief? “I’m aware.”

  Is he…is he teasing me? She gaped at him for a moment, then he started to walk, his body against hers, cords of muscle moving as he carried her. She tried not to be ageist, especially with this man, but she couldn’t help the surprise that he was about to just stroll around with her in his arms.

  He set her down ever-so-gently on one of the waiting room chairs, and she immediately missed the warm contact. She was breathless, and it had nothing to do with her previous pain.

  He knelt in front of her and pulled her foot onto his lap, poking around her ankle and slowly working his fingers up her calf. “How does it feel?”

  Jolie choked on her words as his hands worked magic on her leg. Of course he has talented hands. He’s a fucking doctor.

  Her body temperature doubled and she swallowed hard. “Good.” She forced her voice to level out, stay casual. “You’d think you do this for a living or something.”

  His lip curled, and that mischievousness was back. “Maybe next time we stretch first.”

  “I don’t think climbing is my thing.” Jolie stifled a moan as he massaged down her leg.

  “The muscles feel more relaxed, now.” He looked up at her. “I hope you’ll let me give you a lift, though. Walking home in the cold—”

  “Oh no,” she cut in, holding up a hand. “We’re not done yet. I mean, yeah you can drive us, but I'm taking you out for food.”

  His brow furrowed, and he looked down at himself.

  “No dress code, fancy pants.” She rolled her eyes.

  He blushed and chuckled, shooting her an apologetic look. “Guess we should return our rentals.” He pulled open the flap on her shoe that was still resting on his thigh, and slipped it off.

  How does he look so sexy doing something so mundane? She chewed her lip as he pulled off her second shoe, before bending to remove his own. He smiled at her and wandered over to the receptionist’s desk.

  That easy gait, the baggy-ish clothes that hid a deceptively strong body beneath… Jolie was practically drooling. How was this man so insecure? He was gorgeous. Apparently the receptionist thought so too, considering her stammering assurance that they didn’t have to pay for the session since they’d only been in there for a few minutes.

  Jolie composed herself as Carson walked back over. She felt like he’d turned the teasing tables on her, and she wanted to win. Though she couldn’t deny that in the grand scheme of things, playing the game was fun no matter what.

  “Well, free date. You planned that well,” he joked as he reached for his coat.

  She rolled her eyes as she got up, tentatively testing her left leg and finding it okay enough to put weight on. “Yes, my master plan was to make an ass of myself.” She shrugged into her coat and wrapped her scarf around her neck a few times. “Thanks for the assist though, doc. I may have been stuck up there forever if you hadn’t come to get me.”

  Carson offered her his elbow with a flourish, the same half smile on his face as when she’d offered him hers by his car. “Anytime.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  “You’re gonna have to pull over somewhere here,” Jolie said and motioned vaguely to the line of cars on the side of the road. “We’re heading into the courtyard and it’s chaos getting in and out of there.”

  Carson spotted an open space on the other side of the road, and took a slim opportunity to pull a u-turn and, in one fluid motion, parallel park into the spot. He hadn’t meant to show off, but as she chewed her bottom lip in his periphery he couldn’t help a little swell in his chest.

  The same swell as when he had been showing off, carrying her across the climbing gym. He probably didn’t need to carry her, but he’d enjoyed it, and by the way her breath hitched and her cheeks flushed, she’d enjoyed it too.

  He slipped out of the driver’s seat and skirted the hood to the passenger side as Jolie opened her door. This time, she took her own flying leap over the slush, landing gracefully on the salt-covered sidewalk. He chuckled and brought his hands together in a polite golf clap, and she bowed with a flourish.

  “Not gonna lie, I was pretty sure I was going to fall flat on my ass.” She shut the door and wrinkled her cute little nose. “Because I need to embarrass myself an infinite number of times today.”

  He shook his head. “No embarrassment necessary,” he assured her. “Things happen. I take it your calf is feeling better?”

  “Yes, doc.” She rolled her eyes and held out a gloved hand. “Come on.”

  He nearly offered her his arm, but instead took her hand, and despite the layer of gloves between their palms, it felt like it was made for him.

  They strolled in a comfortable silence, the hustle and bustle of people and traffic a dull blur in the periphery of their little bubble.

  “If you could visit anywhere in the world, where would you go?” Jolie poked her scarf deeper into the collar of her jacket.

  Carson pursed his lips in thought. “I think Rome would be at the top of my list. Lots of historical sites to explore.”

  “And good food.” She grinned.

  He chuckled. “Of course.” He squeezed her ha
nd. “What about you? Where would you go?”

  “I think I’d start on one end of Europe and eat my way across it,” she said wistfully. “And then work my way through Asia, too.”

  He shook his head as they stopped at a crosswalk. “You might be the only person I’ve ever met that would plan a trip overseas around where the best food is.”

  “When you’re starving in a museum in Rome don’t come crying to me, man.” She smirked and tugged on his arm, pulling him out into the street when the light turned green.

  The courtyard was a winter wonderland. There were leftover decorations from Christmas adorning the lampposts and buildings, lighting up the early evening in green and red and white. This particular part of downtown was always a hive of activity, though this was the best time of year to come and not be run over by shoppers. Post-Christmas fatigue was real, and the courtyard was more snow than slush with only a few pedestrians wandering the artisan shops around the cobblestone center.

  Jolie grinned up at him, and he followed the path her body was facing to a sausage cart parked by the shut-down fountain. “Our glamorous dinner awaits,” she declared with a wave of her hand.

  “Oh, this takes me back.” He laughed and let her pull him along. “Late-night cram sessions in university, staggering out at two in the morning for sustenance.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “That’s so cute, that you ate street meat in the middle of the night because you were studying so hard.”

  “Heyo, lovely girl!” the portly gentleman manning the grill bellowed. He stood in the frigid air in nothing but jeans and a t-shirt, and his hair was somehow still matted to his forehead with sweat. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen you here at this time o’ day. Look at you, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”

  “I highly doubt I’ve ever been lovely to you, Mick,” she drawled. “I’m far nicer when I’m not wasted.”

  He wagged a set of tongs at her with a wink. “Remains to be seen, remains to be seen!” he declared. “And who is this fine upstanding friend we have?”

  “This is Carson.” She motioned to him and he offered a smile.

  “Pleasure,” he said, and nearly extended a hand to shake until he realized the man was holding a bun in his non-tongs hand.

  “All mine, all mine.” Mick grinned, showing off two missing front teeth. “So, what’ll it be for yas?”

  “Mild Italian with as much sauerkraut as you can pile on there,” Jolie declared.

  “Clearin’ the sinuses, gotcha!”

  She looked up at Carson. “What about you?”

  He skimmed the short menu of sausage flavours. “Honey garlic, please.”

  “Don’t wanna try my gut buster?” Mick pointed to the sign dangling off of the side of the cart roof boasting Hottest Effing Meat Out There!

  Carson chuckled and shook his head. “I like my gut inside my body, thank you.”

  “Honey garlic it is, then!” Mick got to work on the sausages, whistling to himself.

  Jolie tugged on Carson’s hand, tucking it into her coat pocket with hers. He turned towards her, imagining they must look ridiculous with his arm sticking out of her pocket, but he didn’t care.

  “Well?” She tilted her face up to look at him, the steam from her breath swirling around his nose. “I can’t wine and dine you, so rescuing me from an epic charley horse and freezing outside in the winter for a greasy-ass sausage is a close second, right?”

  He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. “I don’t care what we do, as long as I’m with you,” he said softly, cheeks warming at the admission.

  “You are so corny,” she whispered before pulling him down for a kiss.

  The world melted away then—the hiss and spit of the cooking meat, Mick’s whistling, car tires slurping through slush, all gone, and there was nothing but her lips, her warmth, the sweet whiff of jasmine emanating from her smooth skin.

  When they pulled away, Mick whistled suggestively and the moment was broken, leaving the two of them giggling and breathless.

  “Probably a good idea to get kissin’ outta your system before she stuffs her face with all this.” The vendor chortled as he held out Jolie’s heaping helping of sauerkraut and meat.

  “Can’t make it easy for him, right?” She gave Mick an exaggerated wink and Carson couldn’t help but laugh.

  He leaned down, lips a hair’s breadth from her ear. “I love a challenge,” he said softly, and allowed himself a moment of pride as she shivered beneath his words.

  This challenge was ridiculous, he knew. She’d wanted to get a rise out of him, and he attempted to turn the tables, but all they were doing was getting themselves worked up.

  And as she wrapped her mouth around the thick meat and tore off a bite, it was all he could do to keep from dragging her back to his car like a caveman. And, from her knowing smirk as she chewed, she knew it too.

  What is this woman doing to me?

  Jolie paid Mick as Carson dressed his sausage with a modest amount of mustard and relish. He held it up in a toast to the vendor, receiving a tongs-salute in return. He was about to take a bite when Jolie tugged on his jacket and pointed to a snow-free bench across the courtyard.

  “There’s a heater over there, come on,” she said as she pulled off one of her gloves with her teeth. “My glamorous date includes sitting to eat.” She shoved her glove in her pocket and began systematically poking sauerkraut in between the bun and the sausage.

  He watched her perform surgery on her food as they walked, enjoying the intense focus in her gaze as she made sure the fermented cabbage was secure.

  As if she could sense his eyes on her, she glanced up as they reached the bench.

  “What?” she asked, plonking herself down in the wooden seat. “Gotta have full, even coverage.”

  Carson chuckled as he slid in beside her, heat radiating from the short post in front of them. “This is a nice idea. Being able to sit out here comfortably in the winter.” He stuffed the end of the sausage into his mouth and bit down, the skin popping beneath his teeth with a satisfying crunch. Fat dribbled down his chin and he hurriedly wiped it up with a finger.

  Jolie giggled, and he blushed when he realized she was watching him.

  “This was a ploy to see if you could be an animal like me.” She reached over and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Good on ya, doc.”

  He chewed as he shook his head at her. When he finally swallowed, he held up a greasy finger. “I’ll have you know, just because I’m a, as you say, fancy-pants, doesn’t mean I can’t scarf a sausage on a park bench.”

  She snorted, a mischievous grin crossing her face, and he pursed his lips, raising an eyebrow. She rolled her eyes and pointed to herself.

  “Animal,” she declared.

  He couldn’t help but laugh. “This is really good, by the way,” he admitted, accentuating his point by raising his food in a toast. “Thank you.”

  She bumped her bun against his. “Cheers.”

  They ate in comfortable silence, and Carson tried to watch the courtyard as he enjoyed the honey garlic meat, but he was hyperaware of the young woman in his periphery. She bent her legs, bringing them up to perch her boots on the edge of the seat. She reached up to poke a stray hunk of sauerkraut from the corner of her lip into her mouth, chewing an obscenely large bite as she gazed at the snow-covered fountain.

  He marvelled at her. It didn’t seem to matter what she was doing, she was gorgeous doing it. Gorgeous and endearing and adorable…and other things. He darted his tongue out to lick a bit of mustard from his upper lip, and his heart fluttered.

  He wanted this woman, and he wanted her badly. He knew that she wanted him too. She’d talked him through his evening of insecurity and still invited him out the next day.

  To torture him with her sex appeal, no less.

  He’d played a bit of the game right back, and it was fun watching her squirm, but the day would come to a close eventually and he needed to figure out where it was going to go.<
br />
  He was still nervous, but the crippling fear that she would be disappointed by his older body was more of a niggling worry, because he trusted her when she said she knew what she wanted. He understood that the attraction, the spark they had, traversed things like bodily imperfections.

  It had just been so long since he’d dated anybody. He could barely remember the handful of dates he’d gone on before Gina. He’d been so busy with med school that he hadn’t spent a lot of time on romance. Even if he had, things were different in this day and age. He wanted to be a gentleman and not throw himself all over her too quickly…but she wanted him to. So wouldn’t not throwing himself all over her be even more disrespectful of her feelings?

  “You got some mad wheels turning in that head of yours, doc,” Jolie said, bringing him out of his thoughts. “What’s going on in there?”

  His cheeks flushed, and he shoved the last bit of his bun into his mouth to avoid answering.

  “Oh, I like that look,” she said, a conspiratorial gleam in her eye. “That looks like you were thinking something dirty.”

  Carson avoided her gaze. She read him so well. Though it wasn’t as if he was all that difficult to figure out.

  She scooted closer, raising a napkin to his chin, and gently wiped the grease from his face. “Going to share with the class?”

  He gently took her wrist before she could lower her hand and kissed the inside of it, lingering for a moment. In a burst of confidence, he brought his eyes up to meet hers. “I was trying to decide if it would be more gentlemanly to wait or give in to the animal,” he murmured against her soft flesh.

  Her breath hitched and her gaze smoldered, her slim forearm trembling beneath his touch. “And what did you decide?” she asked hoarsely.

  He danced his fingertips along her palm. “That I don’t think you want a gentleman.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  In that moment, Jolie discovered that spontaneous combustion was possible. She’d peeled back a layer of this man that she didn't know was there, and now her body was aflame as he stroked her hand, that low husky voice insinuating that playtime was over.