Taboo Love With The Doctor (BBW Contemporary Medical Stepbrother Romance)

by Ava May

  WARNING: This eBook contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. It may be considered offensive to some readers. This eBook is for sale to adults ONLY

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  © Copyright 2015 by Ava May - All rights reserved.

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  In Love with

  Dr. Stepbrother

  Taboo Romance

  Ava May

  In Love with Dr. Stepbrother

  Chapter 1

  As far as emergency room visits went, this one hadn't been too bad. Chris knew; she spent a fair amount of time here. Between her job and sports activities, injuries happened often. Today, no irate family members shouted at each other, no patients argued loudly with the staff, no crying children tugged her heart strings. A relatively peaceful place to spend a Thursday afternoon. If only her ankle wasn't screaming in pain.

  Think of something fun. Like how good it felt running with that football, right before she got tackled.

  The curtain to the cubicle where she sat was suddenly whisked back and… holy moly! A cuter-than-shit man in scrubs stood in front of her. He looked at her briefly, then looked down at a file.

  "What seems to be the problem today?"

  Cute, but kind of dumb. If he'd look up for a second, he'd see the ice bag on her leg propped on the table.

  "I hurt my ankle. I think it's just sprained, but my boss wanted me to get an x-ray before I go back to work."

  "What kind of work do you do?" Still looking down at the paper.

  Crabby too. "I'm a mechanic." That got him to look at her.

  "You did this at work?"

  "No, I was on break, playing football…"

  Now she had his full attention.

  "You play football?" His eyes widened and maybe she imagined it, but she could swear she heard a note of disdain in his voice.

  Chris bit her tongue, wanting to give this arrogant man a piece of her mind. She hurt, she was missing work, and the smell of hospital disinfectant had started a colossal headache. But she always tried to be polite to everyone, no matter how much they annoyed her.

  "Yeah, me and some of the guys at the auto dealer where I work have a team. We practice sometimes, on break."

  "You play football with men?"

  "Yes, little old me plays football with men. I don't think I'm going to get crushed, do you?"

  Now he took a moment to actually look at her. So far, he hadn't made any mention of her being a plus-size woman. Points to him for that. Too busy being amazed that a girl played a boy's sport, probably. A hint of a smile crossed his lips, then disappeared. And was that a trace of heat in his eyes?

  "No, I suppose not. But you should be more careful." He flipped through the chart. "The x-rays don't show a break, so you've just sprained it. Get an ankle brace, keep it iced tonight. I'll prescribe an anti-inflammatory and pain pills. I can give you one right now. Do you have someone to drive you home? A husband? Wife?"

  Oh, no he did not. "A wife? You assume I'm gay because I'm big, have short hair and don't wear makeup?"

  "And play football."

  WTF? Where did this guy learn his bedside manner?

  "Yeah, and play football. I like to fuck men, okay? That's right, I cuss too. And no, I'll be driving myself home, so just give the scripts and let me out of here."

  She swung her leg off the table and tried to stand. He grabbed her shoulders and stopped her. She pushed him away, the tears she'd fought since her injury threatening to spill.

  "I'll get an aide and a wheelchair. Hospital policy. Don't hurt yourself further on the way out."

  With a final disapproving frown, he let her go. Even through the haze of pain and anger, she admired the way his ass filled out his scrubs as he walked away.

  ****

  "A sprained ankle? You sprained your ankle the day before our big weekend? Christina, how many times have I asked you to be careful?"

  "Calm down, Mom. I can still walk. It's not even a sprain really, more like a strain. It's braced, doesn't hurt, and I have pain pills. No biggie."

  "But you won't be able to wear the shoes that go with the dress I bought you."

  Oh darn. Chris threw her purse on a chair, turning her head to hide a smile. Her mom was freaking out enough about her upcoming wedding. No need to irritate her further. Amanda had planned this weekend event for months and wanted everything to be perfect. Which, for Chris, would mean not having to put on the frilly, fuchsia monstrosity that now lay on her bed. Or the matching stilts her mom called shoes.

  "I've got that navy pant suit, and flats to go with it. I'll just wear that."

  "That outfit is terribly out of style. Anyway, I wanted all of us women to match. Robert sent me a picture of Lila trying on her dress. She looks adorable."

  A quick pain nudged Chris's heart, but she let it go. She'd long ago come to accept, she wasn't the cute, petite little girl her mother always wanted. Maybe Lila, her nine year old soon-to-be stepsister, would fill that role, and let Amanda dress her like a doll.

  Chris put her hand on Amanda's shoulder. "The important thing is, we'll all finally get to meet each other and spend time together. Robert's son is still set to be there too, right?"

  The frown shifted to a smile. "Yes. He's all moved in with Robert. Such a nice boy, to leave his medical practice and move here to Maplewood, to be with his dad. I sure wish you would reconsider moving in with us too."

  Chris rolled her eyes. Staying with her mother was temporary, until she figured out her next step in life. She'd have to leave the family house once it sold, but she'd figure out another place to stay. No way would she move in with the happy honeymooners and son. Lila seemed like fun, but she spent most of her time living with her mother. Quick, change the subject.

  "You might not want to call him a boy, to his face anyway. Isn't he in his mid-thirties?"

  "Yes, he is, but he's still a boy to me."

  "Mom," Chris sat on the bed. She'd lied slightly. Her ankle still hurt like hell but she wouldn't take the pain pills till later that night. "Are you sure this is smart? You're marrying a man whose physical condition could get worse, and he's got two kids, from two marriages. Doesn't that seem like kind of a, well, a loser?"

  "Certainly not. Robert is a wonderful man. Two marriages, that means nothing these days. Third time's the charm, anyway."

  Amanda sat next to Chris and ran her hand over the lace on the ridiculous dress. "He's got enough money to hire full-time care, if we need it. Multiple Sclerosis affects everyone differently. I have health problems too. Arthritis in my knees, my eyes are getting worse every year; everyone has some issues. We'll have plenty of time to enjoy our life together."

  "So why is, what's his son's name, Ben, why is Ben coming here to live?"

  "I told you, he's concerned about his father and wants to make sure he's getting the best care. He has connections in the medical community. I'm not able to do a lot of heavy lifting, so Ben can
take care of that, if needed."

  "But Mom…"

  "Honey, we love each other and that's all that matters." She patted Chris's hand. "Go find that pant suit. Let me see if I can at least dress it up with some of my jewelry. We need to get finished packing and head out to The Regency Hotel in two hours."

  Chapter 2

  Holy crap! Chris's jaw dropped when she stepped out of the car and took in the enormity of The Regency. A long-ago trip to Disney World and Cinderella Castle came to mind as she gazed at the building. Rather, a complex of buildings. She handed the keys to the valet, barely able to look away. She'd seen pictures of the hotel on the Internet but here in person, it was so much bigger. So much more…over the top totally ridiculous.

  "Christina?" Amanda called from the car. "Are you all right?"

  She must look like a zombie, standing here and gawking with her mouth open. "Fine. Sorry, let me help you out."

  Why in the world her mom wanted to have this event at a huge hotel, two hours from their home, Chris couldn't fathom. Robert and his family had to travel a distance to get here also. Couldn't they have picked a spot near one of them? A place not so hugely pretentious?

  And really, was this how Robert lived? Did he think because he had a lot of money, he could throw it around on crazy things like a weekend at The Regency Hotel? Her mom might be impressed with all this glamour but it made Chris nervous. Like the rich people were always watching her, judging her. And she'd come up lacking, she knew. These kinds of people didn't wear plus-sized clothes and run around getting their ankles sprained playing football.

  Three men dashed out to unload their car and fuss over the luggage. Once it had been placed on a cart, one of the men led them to the entrance, told them they were expected and bypassed the check-in desk. Money bought great service.

  They were handed room key cards, no, suite key cards, their luggage was placed in the rooms, and when Chris reached in her purse for a tip, was politely told all gratuities had been taken care of. Of course.

  Robert certainly knew how to impress his bride-to-be, Chris would give him that. Amanda couldn't stop exclaiming over every little detail in her giant suite. From the fragrant flowers blooming in an antique vase, to the bowl of fresh fruit, to the plush carpet that swallowed up her feet. Everything screamed luxury and money. Amanda strolled down the hall and took a peek in her room, which wasn't quite as large, but just as elegant. Or foo-foo, as she preferred to call it.

  She stuck her nose back in her mom's room, and had to grin, watching Amanda run her hands over the satiny pillows and sheets. "I'm going to unpack and relax for a while, Mom. What time is dinner?"

  "At seven o'clock sharp." Amanda looked at her watch. "Robert should be here soon. We'll meet in the Lilac room. Let me know if you need anything, honey."

  A beer. Now. "I'm good. I might walk around a little, stretch my legs. I'll see you at seven."

  ****

  Success! On the third try, Chris managed to cut one of the pain pills in half and not turn it into a crumbled mess. Her ankle throbbed and suspecting this dinner would be miserable enough, she absolutely couldn't go through the evening without some relief. She'd walked around the hotel for half an hour and couldn't locate a bar, and decided she really had to prop up her foot. It had already swollen up like a balloon. She managed to find a butter knife to chop the pill. A half a tablet should do the trick and not make her comatose.

  Would everyone be terribly upset if she showed up in her fuzzy socks? Probably. Though Chris could care less what anyone thought of her, she didn't want to embarrass her mother. She'd behave like a good girl and pray for the weekend to end quickly.

  Hair fixed, a touch of makeup on her face, drugs taking the edge off the pain, Chris blew herself a kiss in the mirror. She'd started this gesture after her douche-bag ex left her, to remind herself she was loved. Often, tears followed the kiss when she thought about Jason, but she wiped them away and carried on. Definitely not going to think about him tonight. She really had to concentrate on making a good impression on her new family.

  New family. How was a person supposed to embrace a bunch of strangers, and call them family? It was wonderful her mom found a man she cared about, and one who had a good solid income. Chris was happy for her. Really. But now she'd have to move out of the house, live on her own again, face the fact that she needed to start dating and build her own relationship with a guy.

  Despite Amanda's gentle encouragement, Chris had no desire to date again. After Jason's betrayal, Chris put a steel-plated shield around her heart and didn't have the courage or desire to take it down. Her work, playing sports, going out with friends, spending time with her mom, that was enough. Lately though, watching her friends interact with their partners, getting more and more wedding invitations, hearing about yet another baby coming into the world, Chris realized it was time to move on. Time to trust a man again. It would take a truly special one to break down her barricade.

  The Lilac Room was every bit as glitzy as the rest of the hotel. By the time Chris limped her way there, her mother, Robert and Lila were already seated, all three laughing. Chris put on her happy-girl smile and entered the room.

  "You look lovely, darling," Amanda said, though Chris knew her mother well enough to hear the slight disappointment in her voice.

  The other two women wore their pink dresses and both looked adorable. Chris looked like a large, pink whale when she'd tried hers on. Sending out a silent pray for happy accidents, Chris squeezed her mother's hand, then took her place at the table.

  "Hello Robert, Lila. I guess Mom told you I hurt my foot and can't wear high heels today."

  "You hurt it playing football, Miss Amanda said." Lila bounced in her chair. "I play soccer at school. I hurt my hand one time."

  "Soccer is fun too." Chris smiled at the young girl, a genuine smile this time.

  "She's also taking piano lessons, aren't you?" Amanda asked, smoothing down Lila's collar. "It's important for young ladies to know how to play a musical instrument."

  "Why?" Lila bounced some more.

  "Because it shows you're smart, and it's elegant, and men like smart, elegant ladies. Can you sit still while we're at the dinner table please?"

  Chris bit her tongue. Why did people always want to stifle children having fun?

  "Okay." The young girl sighed but quit moving around.

  "How about we check out the swimming pool here later? Do you like to swim?" Chris asked. If the pills kept working, she could probably splash around for a while.

  "Sure do! We have a pool at our house. I'm a good swimmer." The light shone back in her eyes. "Look! It's Ben."

  Lila stood and ran across the room to hug the man who had entered. Chris turned and for the second time that day, her jaw fell open.

  Ben. The doctor from the emergency room. Oh hell no, this could not be her mother's fiance's son. But Robert also stood and smiled as the young man walked to the table and shook his hand.

  "Good to see you, Ben. Sorry I haven't been home much while you're getting settled in. Trying to get business wrapped up before our big day. You remember Amanda."

  Ben stuck out his hand. "Of course. How could I forget?"

  "None of that. Give me a hug." Amanda grabbed him.

  Chris looked longingly at the exit. She could bolt now. It wasn't too late. Ben hadn't even turned her way yet. But now he did.

  "And this is Christina, my daughter."

  In two heartbeats he recognized her. To his credit, he didn't immediately shout, or run from the room. He did, however, stand there, same as her, arms at his side and a scowl on his face. Finally, he extended his hand.

  "How do you do?"

  "Fine. And you?" She shook it stiffly.

  Good. He would play it cool, not mention their earlier encounter. They both held that position, hands locked, glaring at each other, until Amanda cleared her throat.

  "Um, the server is here for our drink orders. We should sit down."

  Ben cr
ossed the table and sat next to Lila.

  "I thought you and Christina could sit together. Get to know each other."

  "I'd like to sit with my sister, if you don't mind. We don't get to spend much time together, do we, rug rat?" He tickled her, producing squeals of laughter from Lila.

  Relieved, Chris slumped back into her chair. At least she didn't have to be right next to the rude guy.

  Damn. Of all the stupid ways her life could get worse, having this pompous asshole for a stepbrother ranked right up there at the top. She'd already steeled herself to spending time with Robert and Lila, which wouldn't be so terrible. But Ben? If he treated his patients so badly, she could only imagine how he acted with his family.

  "What would you like to drink, ma'am?"

  Alcohol. Yes. "A beer, a lager. And a shot of whiskey, bourbon if you've got it."

  Ignoring her mother's kick under the table and disapproving stare, Chris grabbed the server's arm.

  "And make that bourbon a double."

  It would be a long dinner.

  Chapter 3

  Playing shuffleboard against yourself was actually kind of fun. Chris was delighted to discover, when she finally located the hotel bar, it had an old, somewhat working shuffleboard table squeezed into a back corner. The electronics didn't keep score correctly, but she didn't care, since she had no real opponent. Having survived dinner was win enough for the evening.

  The meal hadn't been too hideous. Like her, Ben appeared to be putting on his good-boy pants. He smiled when called for, made appropriate remarks, and pretty much ignored Chris, mostly paying attention to his delighted sister. The one time they'd accidently made eye contact, he immediately looked away.

  But not before she saw a glimmer of pain in his eyes, and something else. Anger? Unease? Sure, this dinner had to be as uncomfortable for him as it was for her, but he looked like he had a huge burden on his shoulders.