Doctor Desirable: A Hero Club Novel

by Anjelica Grace

  When my phone buzzes in my pocket, I pull it out of my slacks and groan. I forgot all about the conference call I need to be on with my brothers tonight. I’m not in the mood for their shit right now, even though I know this call needs to happen and is actually a professional call rather than personal. But when you’re working on something with your brothers, every call will inevitably end up being personal, last longer than necessary, and involve questions and jabs you really aren’t in the mood for.

  Before the call comes through, I discard my jacket, cuff links, and wallet in my room, and grab myself a beer from the fridge, then head into my office.

  With my feet propped up on the desk, the room dimmed, and a beer in my hand, I wait for the screen to light up and my device to buzz, so I can get on the call.

  “Can we make this quick tonight?” I swallow down another gulp at the same time as each of my brothers makes annoyed noise.

  “What crawled up your ass?” Xavier would respond that way, as the youngest of the three of us, and the most easygoing, always happy Alexander brother, he doesn’t understand what a shit day at work feels like. Not like Jackson does. Where he is a lawyer, and I’m a doctor, and our bad days impact other peoples’ lives, Xavier is an athlete. A damn great hockey player, at that, but his bad days at work certainly don’t come with life sentences in the physically disabled or life behind bars sort of way.

  “I have to agree with him. What’s got you so prickly tonight? Haven’t been laid in a while?”

  I roll my eyes, knowing full well they both can see with the screen focused right on my face. “Fuck you both. It has nothing to do with my sex life—”

  “Or lack thereof,” Xavier interjects, smirking.

  “As I was saying, I had a terrible day at work, got into a…disagreement…with my boss, had some really hard patients and not ideal news to deliver, and I’d like to have a few more beers and crawl into bed. Not deal with you two dipshits tonight. So, again, can we make this quick?”

  “Relax, Big Brother,” Xavier says again, “talking to us will do you some good.”

  Jackson shakes his head. “Lay off him, X-Man. We can make tonight quick. I had a pretty long day, too. And, frankly, I don’t want to play peacekeeper between the two of you if I don’t have to.” He has always been the logical one: the diplomatic peacekeeper between Xavier and me. You’d think it would be different, him being the middle brother and all, but we have never butted heads like I do with Xavier. He and Xavier have always been close in their own way too. He bridged the gap between me as the oldest, and Xavier as the youngest growing up. While we do tend to get along better now, and we are closer than ever, he still keeps the peace when it’s necessary.

  “Neither of you are any fun.”

  “We can’t all take time off for off-seasons and coast through our lives, making good paychecks for playing a sport we love.” I take another drink and crack my neck a couple times. “So, on to business.”

  “How is the location coming along?” Jackson asks.

  “We have it secured and I put the deposit down today. They’re giving us the whole space and have a full block of rooms in the hotel for attendees.” Xavier breathes on his hand then brushes it over his shoulder, clearly proud of his work.

  I’m actually impressed and proud too, though. I didn’t think Xavier would be so on top of things, but this is a huge hurdle down. “Good. I have secured money donors and started working on auction stuff. I also booked my flight home already, so the date better not have changed.”

  “Date is set in stone, Dr. Grumpy Ass. I knew you would both need to keep it that way for travel plans.”

  “So responsible of you, Baby Alexander,” Jackson teases our brother, knowing it’s a name he has hated his whole life. Growing up in our footsteps must’ve been shitty. We had a reputation, had made something of the Alexander name, before he made it through school. And all the teachers knew who he was—the baby of the family.

  “Of course I’m responsible, asswipe. I may be the youngest and live a fun, active life; I’m not an irresponsible, incapable prick though.”

  “We don’t think you are, X-Man.” I sigh and take another drink. “Thanks for handling everything on your end, it helps with the time differences.”

  “Yeah, it was no problem. Listen, I hate to cut this short, but—” he reads a text, going silent briefly, “something has come up and I need to get ready and head out.”

  Jackson lifts his eyebrows and smirks, and I shake my head. “To think, you were giving us shit for not wanting tonight to run long…”

  Jackson snorts an agreement out and Xavier shrugs. “Well, sometimes a man gets an offer he can’t refuse.”

  “Right. Make sure you use protection. I don’t want to hear about a niece or nephew in the magazines or online.”

  Xavier flips both birds toward the camera. “I’ll catch you dicks later.”

  “Night, guys.” Jackson gives a small salute.

  “Night, you two. Same time next week.” Before either responds, I end the call and kick my feet back, resting my heels on the corner of my desk. Those two have been with me through so much shit. For as much as we antagonize each other, I couldn’t have gotten any luckier in the brother department if I wanted to.

  ****

  Dee

  Today was everything I hoped it would be and so much more. I have so much to learn from my coworkers, and I absolutely loved getting to work with patients. Most of the ones I saw today were individuals who have been in the hospital for a prolonged time, the ones who need physical and occupational therapies before they can be discharged. But tomorrow, I’m excited; I get to work with ortho patients. I get to be one of the people who assists in their recoveries from surgeries and injuries caused by sports, accidents, and all the other potential causes. I can’t wait.

  Working with gymnasts, knowing bull riders, shadowing the physical therapist at school, and my own aches and pains from competing growing up have shown me I want nothing more than to help athletes and individuals who have experienced physical injury and just want to get back to themselves again. Especially if they’re children.

  I’ll be good at it. Working today gave me such a sense of pride, confidence, and accomplishment. Tomorrow will be even better. I have the first-day jitters behind me, I know the hospital better, and I stored every single thing, big and small, to my memory so I am well-equipped to handle whatever comes my way tomorrow.

  I even know where the extra scrubs are located, just in case there’s an accident and my clothes get soiled. I worked with this super sweet elderly woman today, alongside a kind nurse, and the woman got so worked up trying to push herself, she had a small bout of vomiting when she got overheated and overexcited. That’s how I learned where extra scrubs are. The nurse who got the brunt of things handled it like a pro, though. She helped the little older woman back into her bed and cleaned her up while she sent me for new scrubs for her and a fresh gown for the woman. It was a great learning experience.

  On top of all the great work knowledge I can’t wait to apply, I know I’ll have a lunch date tomorrow with Bridget and maybe a few of her friends, too. Perhaps I can even sneak a peek at the husband she couldn’t help but gush about. He sounds like quite the hot, accented catch. And their story is the absolute sweetest. She saved pictures of him and their kids for another day, but their twins and son sound absolutely adorable. It was just so nice hearing about them, and talking with a mom over lunch again. Talking to her today was like a taste of home, and a reminder of lunches with Tate and Allie. Between the two of them, and their three kids, plus fiancé and husband stories, I’ve gotten so used to their brand of lunch it would feel weird having friends who don’t have kids now.

  Thinking about my best friend, and her fiancé and their little girl, brings another smile to my face. I swear I’ve worn one all day today, but thinking about them will always make me happy, and a little sad if I’m being honest. I can’t think about that too much now, though. It�
�s important I not yearn for Colorado and my people there too much or I will never make this adjustment. Which is why I haven’t called Tate yet. We’ve texted today, but I told her I was wiped out and planning to crash early.

  I hate thinking I’m blowing off my best friend. It kills me. But for the first time since I got here, I’m not overly homesick. I need to accept today’s victories and celebrate them on my own. Tate and I will catch up on Friday night with wine and video chatting. She knows why I’m not calling. We talked about it, and really, she suggested it anyway.

  You know I’m always here for you, Dee. I love you like a sister and I want to hear about every single day. But you get sad sometimes, and I want you to be happy there. So… Maybe we should only text most days, video chat once a week, just until you feel less homesick.

  Her words play back over again in my mind. She was right. But it’s not easier knowing that. We did still agree, though, if I meet any men out here, I would text name and info, just like we’ve always done, no matter what.

  Our buddy system is probably more important now than it ever was at home. She’s literally my only point of contact if something happens. I don’t have anyone locally yet who would even know where to start. I hope to change that, and if things work like I think they may, Bridget and her friends will be the tribe I make out here.

  I hope.

  But I’ll worry about that after I eat my dinner, take my shower, and pour myself a glass of wine so I can read a little and relax before I really do pass out.

  Four

  Dee

  I had no idea so many people could be recovering from orthopedic surgeries in such a small hospital. I have seen something like twelve or thirteen people this morning alone, and I haven’t even made it to lunch yet. I have a full schedule of people to see after lunch too. The next patient I’m scheduled to visit will require close consultation with the surgeon on the case, apparently it was a long procedure and the doctor has some concerns regarding how quickly or slowly therapy progresses. The patient apparently has a knack for pushing too hard, too fast, and has wound up in surgery multiple times already for very similar repairs.

  I take one last look at the file and step up to the door, knocking softly then sliding my hand beneath the hand sanitizer before I back through the slightly cracked door. “Hello, Mr. Kent! I’m Dee, I’m with physical therapy and I’m here to—” As I finally turn to face the bed, my cheeks warm and my mouth snaps closed as a tall, built, unimpressed doctor looks at me with his brows raised and his lips pulled tight.

  “As I was saying, Mr. Kent,” the same doctor I ran into yesterday afternoon continues, “you need to take therapy slowly this time. I know you feel like you need to go one-hundred-percent right away, but as your doctor; I must insist you start at a much slower pace this time. I don’t want to see you back on my table and under my knife again.”

  With heated cheeks, I stand and watch them, as still and quiet as I can be. It isn’t until the doctor, who I am able to really look at now and see his strong arms flexed with them crossed over his chest, dark green eyes flashing from Mr. Kent to me and back again. I was right yesterday, without his lab coat on this time, I can tell he really is built. And just like yesterday, he seems irritated to have been interrupted by me.

  Great. Just what I need.

  “Yeah, yeah, Doc. I’ll try to take it easier this time. Scout’s honor.”

  The big, brooding doctor cracks a smile and my heart skips a beat. Who knew he was capable of such an act? I’ve only run into him twice now, but I can tell he is cold and arrogant. Smiles seem out of place and like they’re probably a rare occurrence for him.

  “I’m going to hold you to that.” He shakes Mr. Kent’s hand and rounds the bed, closing the distance between us in a few steady, powerful, strides. “A word with you outside…” he glances at my name tag, “Cassidee.”

  My tummy drops as my name falls from his lips. I’m not sure if it’s because I know I’m about to get in trouble, or if it’s because the way his deep, hard tone sounded saying my name, but one of those two things has my insides twisting into knots.

  “Yes, of course.” My mutter barely makes it out before he’s past me and outside the door. I turn quickly and follow him out, saying hastily, “I’m so sorry for barging in and interrupting. I should have waited for a response.”

  “Yes, that is traditionally what people do when a door is closed.” He stops and faces me, crossing his arms again; legs spread a shoulder width apart. He is tall and domineering. It’s intimidating, at least until Bridget’s words from yesterday come back to me. He is a hard-ass. This is who he is and it isn’t personal.

  “You’re right.”

  “Don’t let it happen again.”

  “No, sir.” I shake my head. “I read in my notes you wanted to discuss Mr. Kent’s therapy before we got started?”

  “You are his only therapist? Are you even old enough, trained properly?”

  I try not to let his words hurt me. I know I look young, and yes, I’m new, but I am damn good at what I do. I’ve worked hard, same as he has.

  “Yes, I have my doctorate in physical therapy. I may be new here, but I’ve received all the best training, and I am being directly supervised by the head of our department.”

  “It can’t be that direct, I don’t see her here with you.”

  “No, she will be down shortly to check in. We are short-staffed today. She said this would be an introductory visit I could handle.”

  “Fine. I don’t want him doing any more than a few laps of walking down the hall today and tomorrow. He can gradually increase, but don’t let him convince any of you he can be working in the therapy room with weights yet. He’ll try, but there are zero circumstances where that will be okay anytime in the next month. Are we clear?” He shifts back and forth on his feet and his eyes bore into mine. They’re gorgeous being this close. I can see little specks and flecks of deep blue mixed into the green, and though they are dark and angry, I can tell they would be absolutely stunning in the light of the sun.

  “Crystal clear, Dr. Alexander,” I carefully say, as I pretend to read his name from his badge. “I have no intention of allowing Mr. Kent to do anything that will hurt him. I know better.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  He has some nerve. He doesn’t even know me, yet here he is basically calling me inept and insinuating I would put a patient in danger.

  “May I ask, what exactly is your problem with me?”

  “Excuse me?”

  With the slightest inhale to steady my breathing, I stand taller and cross my arms over my chest. “What is your problem with me? You don’t even know me, yet you’re questioning my professional judgment and abilities. You are treating me as though I know nothing. And you, respectfully, are being a bit of a jerk.”

  “Did you just call me a jerk?” His brows rise, and the slightest smirk pulls at his lips, and damn him; it looks good. Way too good given our current conversation, actually.

  “I didn’t stutter, did I?”

  He lifts a finger to his lips, tapping them, amusement and irritation warring in his eyes and wrinkling his forehead. “You do realize I’m in a position to file a complaint, have you written up, correct?”

  “You do realize being courteous and approachable will get you further with people, right?”

  He laughs and shakes his head. “Make sure you don’t mess up Mr. Kent’s care and I won’t go to your supervisor or the board; if you do, I’d imagine you’ll have a lot of explaining to do.”

  “Wow, you’ve got—”

  “I have other patients to see, Cassidee. Make sure Mr. Kent is taken care of properly.” Without further remarks or even a chance to respond, Dr. Alexander turns on his heel, scrubs clinging to each curve of his seemingly perfectly sculpted body, and strides away.

  “Asshole.” It’s barely a whisper between my lips, but I glance around to make sure nobody else heard me, just in case, before I make my way back int
o Mr. Kent’s room and start working with him.

  ****

  Nate

  Infuriating. Smart-ass. Fiery. Fucking gorgeous.

  Cassidee Parker is her name, and she is going to be the end of me if I’m not careful. A lesser man would’ve reacted the first time we ran into each other at the elevator. But I didn’t. I kept my cool, was unfazed. I ignored the subtle hint of her shampoo that wafted beneath my nose, reminding me of summer days back home spent outside with my brothers, fucking around and living like little kids should always live. I acted like I couldn’t feel her eyes burning a blazing hole in me as the elevator doors shut, when really, I couldn’t pay attention to the email on my phone—which is how I sent it prematurely by accident—until I knew she wasn’t standing there anymore.

  I didn’t react.

  I was professional, even if a little dickish, but I maintained my typical attitude when it comes to the fawning women walking around this hospital. I wasn’t going there. Even if every part of me noticed every single part of her.

  I’m not the man who looks at coworkers. I’m not the man who lets a woman at work get under his skin.

  So I didn’t do it.

  Then there she was, again, barging into Mr. Kent’s room today like she owned the place with her optimistic, cheery smile, hair pulled back in two braids, interrupting me.

  Calling me a jerk.

  Standing up to me like few other coworkers have ever had the balls to do.

  Fuck me if her defiant little attitude didn’t turn me on as much as it pissed me off.

  I can’t let her get to me though. For one, she’s a subordinate. I am a surgeon, she is a brand-new, young physical therapist. For another, work and play do not, cannot, and will not ever mix. I’ll just have to up my game when it comes to making her hate me. It shouldn’t be that hard. I know I’m seen as an asshole around here to almost everyone but the patients. I’m fine with it.