The Doctor (Nashville Neighborhood Book 1)

Home > Other > The Doctor (Nashville Neighborhood Book 1) > Page 22
The Doctor (Nashville Neighborhood Book 1) Page 22

by Nikki Sloane


  His gaze drifted around my room, taking in the lavender paint I’d had on the walls since I was five. At least I’d gotten rid of most of the high school junk.

  “Are you making house calls now?” I asked.

  “I’m not here as your doctor.” His expression was coy. “How did your conversation go with Preston?”

  I snagged my bottom lip between my teeth for a moment. “It . . . went.”

  He mentally stumbled, probably expecting me to offer up more, but wires crossed in my brain. It was confusing having Greg in my bedroom. Preston had lifted the restraint on Greg and me, but I still felt it there between us.

  Plus, I’d told him I was falling in love, so I needed him to make the next move.

  One footstep was all he got before Polly lifted her head and hissed at the intruder.

  “Your cat only has one eye.”

  “Would you feel more comfortable if I put on her eye patch?” I said. “She doesn’t really like wearing it.”

  My joke died as he approached, his shadow falling over me. All I could see was him. His tone was strong, yet soft. “I made you a promise yesterday.”

  My heart rate climbed as I recalled his words. He swore it wouldn’t be the last time he touched me. But he’d also fulfilled this promise, hadn’t he? My mom said he’d held my hand. Was he going to remind me of that?

  “Did you come to collect?”

  He reached out, skimming his fingertips along my cheekbone, his voice as soft as his touch. “I did.”

  The caress of his fingers sent sparks raining across my skin. His hand moved along my cheek, sliding gently into my hair, and tilted my head back. My eyes fluttered closed as he lowered in and sealed his mouth over mine.

  The kiss was so passionate, I was surprised it didn’t blow the doors off the house. His lips moved against mine, swallowing the small cry I gave, and kept on delivering a nuclear kiss I didn’t even know existed until now. He shifted the angle, adjusting to taste me better, and I reached up, gripping his face between my palms. Did he notice my hands were shaking?

  He lowered to sit beside me on the bed, deepening the kiss. Polly wasn’t having it. Her hiss this time was laced with malice, followed by her low, angry growl.

  “What is that cat’s deal?” he asked between kisses.

  “She hates people.”

  He cradled my face in a hand, holding me steady as his mouth roamed down the column of my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to hold back the shiver I knew he’d cause.

  “She likes you,” he argued.

  I stroked my palms down his t-shirt covered chest, enjoying the feel of the hard muscles beneath them. I loved having him back in my hands. “I have my moments.”

  Greg’s traveling kiss ventured back up to my lips, where he lingered for a long moment. As he drew back, it came from him in a burst. “I might be in love with you too.”

  My eyes flew wide open, and I gasped. As I searched his expression, I saw everything in his eyes. He was nervous about admitting it, but it was the truth. Dr. Gregory Lowe was in love with me. How crazy was that?

  I couldn’t stop the grin that spread across my face. “Oh, Doctor. What are we going to do about this?”

  He planted a searing kiss on me. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

  FOUR MONTHS LATER

  The headlights of Greg’s car cut through the night as we sped through the rural side streets on our way back to his house. My phone chimed with a text message, and I dug it out of my clutch.

  Lilith: How was dinner with Daddy?

  Cassidy: Ugh, please stop calling him that.

  I pictured her on the other end of the phone, amused with herself.

  “Who are you texting?” Greg asked. His eyes stayed on the road, thankfully not shifting to see what she’d sent.

  “Lilith,” I said. “She wanted to know how the fundraiser was.”

  Cassidy: The event was fine. Glad it’s over.

  The hospital held an annual dinner a few weeks before Christmas that was part party for staff, and part fundraiser. It’d been dry chicken, medical jargon I only half-understood, and plenty of raised eyebrows. I wasn’t an idiot. Most of Greg’s colleagues saw me as a trophy girlfriend or thought the age difference was scandalous.

  “How was it for you?” He asked it like he hadn’t been by my side all evening, even though he had.

  “It was about what I expected. Lots of stares.” I loved the cute black cocktail dress I’d bought for the event but spent the entire night uncomfortable from all the strangers’ judgement.

  “Fuck ’em,” he said. “Most of them are just jealous.”

  As I stared at him in his sexy suit and tie, the faint lines of silver threading his hair, I understood. If I was any other woman, I’d be jealous of me too. But I was Greg’s first choice, and he was mine.

  “I know you didn’t want to go,” he added, “so thanks. I appreciate it.” He took a hand off the steering wheel and set it on my knee.

  It made me feel warm and fuzzy inside, which was good. My formal coat wasn’t very warm, and the outside temperature was closing in on freezing.

  “You doctors sure fall into the stereotype of loving golf. So much conversation about ‘playing the back nine.’ I pretended they were using a euphemism for anal just to keep it interesting.”

  Greg’s mouth fell open into an incredulous grin. “Dirty girl.”

  I shrugged. He wasn’t wrong.

  We made it home, and while Greg was hanging our coats up in the entryway closet, I went into the kitchen just as Preston appeared at the top of the stairs.

  “Hey,” he said.

  I strived for a bright, casual tone. “Hi.”

  Would it ever not be weird seeing each other? Vanderbilt was a big school, so we rarely ran into each other on campus, and winter break was the only reason Preston was home now.

  He hadn’t been home alone, though. There was a girl on the landing of the stairs, standing beside him. She was pretty, with big eyes, full lips, and glossy blonde hair I was envious of.

  “This is Iris,” he said. “We were just heading out to see a movie.” He gestured to me. “Iris, this is Cassidy, my dad’s girlfriend.”

  Surprise splashed on her face.

  Preston said it all like it was no big deal. “Yeah, she’s young. We used to date. Whatever, it’s weird.” He slipped his hand behind Iris’s back and pressed her forward. “We need to go or we’re going to be late.”

  “Nice meeting you,” she said automatically, not done processing all the info he’d just dumped on her.

  “You too,” I lobbed back as they went out the door to the garage.

  Sometimes I wondered if he had adjusted better than I had.

  Four months ago, Greg had told me we’d figure it out, and we had, for the most part. There were some days that were hard. I only saw him once over Thanksgiving break, due to his job. I still wasn’t twenty-one, which occasionally was a pain when we wanted to go out.

  Plus, he’d forced me to watch the movie Alien.

  My mom was warming to Greg, ever so slowly. I knew she’d get there eventually. He made me happy, and wasn’t that what really mattered?

  “You meet Iris?” Greg asked as he reappeared, ushering me toward the kitchen.

  “Yeah. She’s cute.” I opened the fridge and grinned when I saw the cans of Dr. Pepper beside a bottle of white wine. “What are we doing tonight?” I asked casually.

  He matched my tone. “I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

  “Christmas movie?” I volunteered.

  “Okay. Gremlins or Die Hard?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ve seen Die Hard.”

  He made an exaggerated sigh. “Damn. I kind of wanted to watch that again.”

  I plucked the wine from the fridge, closed the door, and set the bottle down on the island with a thump. “Or we could drink this, and you could play the back nine.”

  He laughed and grabbed my waist, lifted, and seated me
on the granite counter top, my legs spread on either side of his hips. “I like this plan much better.”

  I grinned as he buried his mouth in the side of my neck, causing goosebumps to burst down my legs.

  “I’m crazy in love with you, you know that?” he murmured.

  “I love you too,” I whispered back.

  I was still young and had things to learn, but on him I was certain. We’d taken a strange path to come together, but in the end, it was worth it.

  He was so absolutely worth it.

  * * *

  Thank you so much for reading THE DOCTOR! I’m planning at least two more books in this series and hope to release the next one in late 2019. Looking for something from me to read while you wait?

  Check out my Blindfold Club series! THREE SIMPLE RULES is oh-so-sexy, sweet, and available right now.

  I would do anything for my dream job. Now I have to.

  In order to save my skin at the office, I'm forced to sell it at an exclusive and illegal blindfold club. He paid thousands of dollars for one night to own me, but when my blindfold comes off, I want more. More nights, more rules, and more from this unavailable and uncompromising man.

  Rule number one, no questions. Rule number two, no lies. But, rule number three? That's the hardest one to obey.

  One-click THREE SIMPLE RULES today!

  Don’t forget to sign up for my newsletter to find out about new books and sales…

  www.nikkisloane.com/newsletter

  If you're looking for a read that's romantic, funny, and has a sexy football star, check out my modern-day take on Romeo and Juliet in THE RIVALRY!

  You can also join my Facebook reader group, Nikki's Naughty Nymphs, for exclusives and hot read recommendations.

  Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed the book, please help spread the word. Tell a friend, share on social media, or leave a review on your favorite book site. I love when new readers find my stories, and I appreciate your help!

  OTHER BOOKS FROM NIKKI SLOANE

  THE BLINDFOLD CLUB SERIES

  It Takes Two

  Three Simple Rules

  Three Hard Lessons

  Three Little Mistakes

  Three Dirty Secrets

  Three Sweet Nothings

  One More Rule

  The Blindfold Club Collection - Books 1-3 bundle

  THE SORDID SERIES

  Sordid

  Torrid

  The Sordid Duet

  SPORTS ROMANCE

  The Rivalry

  THANK YOU

  To my perfect (and crazy hot) husband, whose support makes my dream possible. You’re not only my alpha reader, you’re my everything!

  To my story editors Andrea Lefkowitz and Nikki Terrill. I love you with every inch of my cold, black heart!

  To my beta readers Joscelyn Fussell, Rebecca Nebel and Veronica Larsen. I so appreciate your invaluable feedback! Don’t worry, the next book won’t be as bad. #famouslastwords

  To my editor Lori Whitwam. Your comments on the manuscript are both hilarious and amazing. Thanks for making me look good.

  To my publicist Heather Roberts. Thanks for all your pimping!

  As always, the most important thanks goes to YOU, reader, for choosing to read my work. I’ve been writing for a few years now, but I will never get used to the excitement I have when my book winds up in someone else’s hands. (Especially when they’re not related to me.) I am forever grateful and honored you want to spend time with my characters and sexy words.

  ABOUT NIKKI SLOANE

  Nikki Sloane landed in graphic design after her careers as a waitress, a screenwriter, and a ballroom dance instructor fell through. For eight years she worked for a design firm in that extremely tall, black, and tiered building in Chicago that went through an unfortunate name change during her time there.

  Now she lives in Kentucky, is married and has two sons. She is a three-time Romance Writers of America RITA© Finalist, also writes romantic suspense under the name Karyn Lawrence, and couldn't be any happier that people enjoy reading her sexy words.

  Website: NikkiSloane.com

  Goodreads: Nikki Sloane Author Page

  Twitter: @AuthorNSloane

  Facebook: Nikki Sloane

  Instagram: nikkisloane

  COPYRIGHT

  Text copyright © 2018 by Nikki Sloane

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Biopsy Edition

 

 

 


‹ Prev