by Kelsie Rae
“I will.”
Then he leaves me alone with Tracey who’s knowing smile makes me wanna smack her. “You can get dressed now. Once you’re ready, go up front to make your next appointment.”
“Okay. I’ll do that. Thanks.”
“And don’t worry,” she keeps her voice low. “Dr. Bennett is used to those kinds of reactions. At least your husband wasn’t in the room, right? Now that’s awkward. Have a good one.”
She walks out of the room like she didn’t just give me a heart attack while I sit frozen on the exam table for a solid five minutes before convincing myself to get dressed.
I’m gonna kill Dylan.
3
Marcy
“You didn’t tell me he looked like a damn popsicle on a hot summer day,” I growl into my cell.
Dylan’s laugh echoes through the speaker. “I told you he was a babe.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t mention how freaking lickable he is.”
“I know, huh? It’s a good thing Grady is also lickable, but I feel bad for the husbands who aren’t firefighters because they gotta be jealous of Dr. Hottie and his gorgeous face.” I can practically hear the smile in her voice as she mentions her husband, Grady, and I don’t blame her.
He’s definitely lickable, and I’m not the only one who thinks so. When he got roped into modeling for a firefighter calendar a few years ago, the entire town was raving about the guy. He was the star of the show.
“Yeah, well, you also failed to mention he’s married,” I emphasize the word as if it’s a curse.
“What?”
“He had on a ring, Dyl.”
“Well yeah, but––”
“Nope.” I shake my head even though she can’t see me. “I don’t wanna hear it. Besides, even if he didn’t have a ring, it would be weird to date my doctor no matter how lickable he is. And I’m not even looking to date anyone, anyway. I mean…a solid booty call would be nice, but that’s about all the commitment I can handle right now, and I blame the stupid hormones for that too.”
“Are you even allowed to have a booty call? Since, ya know, it’s not your kid? Aren’t they worried about STDs and stuff? I know I’ve asked you this before, but you didn’t answer me. And now that you’ve seen Dr. Bennett, I’m going to go ahead and assume you can see why I’m curious about the parameters.”
“Dammit! I forgot about the parameters.” I stick my lower lip out. “No sex for this girl unless I’m in a committed relationship, and he’s willing to get tested, which would be a lil’ bit awkward to bring up on the first date. Hey, I’m pregnant with someone else’s kid. Would you mind taking an STD test before we get to the boinking part?”
Snorting, Dylan clarifies, “Boinking? I’m sorry, when was the last time you had sex?”
“Too long ago,” I admit. “And it was crappy too. Wes Winters––”
“Ew. He’s the worst.”
“He really is. Gave me a complex as soon as we were finished, and I haven’t been willing to do the whole one-night stand thing ever since. Needless to say, he left a bad taste in my mouth.”
“You and me both. Wes is an ass.”
“Remember when Grady punched him, though? Pretty sure all the girls in Sunnyville were sending their approval and virtual high-fives.”
She laughs. “Glad he could be of service.”
“Mmmhmm.”
“Ya know, even though you can’t have any booty calls, you can still daydream, right?”
“I guess. Or maybe I’ll just download a dating app and can peruse the lack of options to help remind me that I’m better off alone, anyway.”
“That’s the spirit. I gotta pee. This baby is doing somersaults on my bladder, but I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“See ya, Dylan. Tell Grady hi for me.”
She yells at someone from her end before she replies to me, “He says hi and that I look like a goddess in the maternity photos. You’re the best.”
“And don’t you ever forget it. Talk to you later.”
“Bye.”
The call goes dead.
Pursing my lips, I collapse onto my bed and open the app store on my phone. The Birds and Bees dating app, eh? I read a few reviews before nodding my approval.
“Alright, B&B app, let’s see whatcha got,” I mumble under my breath.
I wait for it to download then create a profile while a small part of me dies inside. Stupid dating apps. I spent years on these things. Countless dates. Countless let downs. Countless reminders that the guy for me just…isn’t out there, and that I’m too average for anything more than a quick, anticlimactic screw. At least they allow you to hide your photos on your profile if you want, adding a sense of mystery and intrigue to the whole thing.
With a sigh, I start scrolling.
And start feeling a lot better.
Rolling onto my back, I keep perusing my options when my jaw drops.
“Are you freaking kidding me?”
I click on the profile.
Benjamin Bennett. Doctor. Not looking for anything serious.
Of course, you’re not, you cheating asshole. I roll my eyes before clicking the icon to view more images.
He’s more good looking than I remember. And while the light blue scrubs were able to leave a pretty memorable impression, the picture of him in a pair of black board shorts as the sun shines down on him is enough to leave me drooling.
And wet.
Again.
He’s married, I remind myself as I clench my legs together. He’s a cheating bastard who’s using a dating site to get off with someone who isn’t his wife.
I steal another peek at his washboard abs. They have a soft dappling of hair that leads to his––
Throwing my phone a few feet away from me, it lands with a soft thump on my gray comforter.
What an ass.
Six Weeks Later
The next month goes by in a blur of puking my guts out, FaceTiming a very apologetic Sway for said puking, and editing a few photo sessions I’d slipped in between puking and FaceTiming.
Now, I’m driving to my doctor’s appointment while trying to keep my frustration in check because, let’s be honest, his married life has nothing to do with me. And despite said frustration, he is a good doctor. He was also really understanding of my situation with Anthony and Sway, which is why I park my car in front of his office and march through the heavy swinging doors before checking in at the front desk.
Tracey brings me back in no time. Weighs me. Takes my blood pressure. And makes me feel like I’m reliving my first appointment.
Does she ever get sick of the monotony?
“Take a seat. Dr. Bennett will be here in just a minute.” She closes the door behind her, leaving me in silence. And with more anxiety than I’ve felt in a long time. Or at least, ya know, since my last appointment.
Surprisingly, a set of knuckles tap against the door less than thirty seconds later before the infamous Benjamin Bennett pops his head through.
“Hello again,” he greets me with that same sure smile.
“Hi,” I return coolly.
His brows crinkle in confusion, but he doesn’t comment on it. Looking at my current stats on the computer, I’m given a minute to scrutinize him without any witnesses. His soft brown hair is a little wavy and looks like his fingers have been running through it all morning. And he’s in a pair of dark gray scrubs today, which somehow makes his muscles pop even more than the original light blue ones. Or maybe it’s because I know what he looks like underneath them.
I push away the image of him in a swimsuit before getting caught on one tiny detail. My gaze narrows on his left hand.
“Where’s the ring?” My accusation is louder than a foghorn.
His head snaps up. “Pardon?”
“I thought you were married?”
Jaw tightening, he looks down at his left hand, then squeezes it into a tight fist and turns around to type something into the computer.
“I am,” he murmurs with his back to me. His spine straightens as he stands a little taller then turns around to face me. “And I’m not.”
I cock my head to the side. “I’m sorry, how exactly does that work?”
Those same flinty brown eyes I’ve slowly grown accustomed to cloud over with a haze of regret.
“My wife died two years ago.” For the first time since I’ve known him, his voice isn’t warm and welcoming. It’s cold. And detached. And so freaking heartbreaking.
A soft gasp escapes me as my jaw drops open.
Shit.
“Oh.”
He laughs dryly. “Yeah. Oh.”
“I’m sorry––”
A bit of his warmth begins to resurface and puts me at ease. “Don’t be. It was an accident. I was driving. She was in the passenger seat, and we were T-boned.” I cringe. “It’s in the past, but some days, it still feels a little weird for me to leave my house without my ring. That’s why you probably noticed it during your last appointment.”
“You noticed that I noticed?” I inquire with a grimace.
Another dry laugh. “I mean, you did blurt out, ‘You’re married,’” he mimics my panicked voice from a month before. “I guess I kind of pieced it together.”
“Oh,” I repeat.
What the hell am I supposed to say to that?
“Look.” He hesitates and scratches the stubble across his strong jaw as if weighing the pros and cons of actually saying whatever he’s thinking about. After a few seconds, he gives in and apologizes, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable at your last appointment.”
“You didn’t make me feel uncomfortable,” I argue.
“You sure about that?”
“Yeah. If anything, I made me feel uncomfortable.” I try to cover my embarrassment with a chuckle, but it doesn’t work. “And then, when I saw your profile on The Birds and Bees app, I guess I––”
“You found my profile on The B&B app?”
I chew on the inside of my cheek before giving him a one-shouldered shrug.
With a smirk that I’m convinced is his signature expression, he clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest while keeping me pinned in place with his intensity. “Can I ask you a completely inappropriate question?”
“Since this conversation hasn’t been completely inappropriate already,” I quip. “Sure. Go ahead.”
“Good point,” he concedes, still amused. “What are you doing on a dating site?”
“Umm…I was just messing around on it. What are you doing on the dating app?”
His gaze connects with mine for a split second before it drops down to my mouth as I point out, “Your profile said that you weren’t looking for anything serious.”
“I’m not,” he confirms, squeezing the back of his neck. It must be a nervous tick or something because it definitely isn’t the first time I’ve seen him do this. “My wife’s sister insists I get back on the horse again.”
“But you’re not ready for anything serious. What are you on there for?”
That same dark gaze drops down to my mouth again before his tongue darts between his lips for a split second. So fast, I’m sure I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t been watching him so closely, but it turns my insides to goo.
“So, how are you feeling?”
Apparently, we’re done talking about relationships.
I release a sigh and answer, “I’m good. Morning sickness sucks, but other than that, I can’t complain.”
“I’ll give you a prescription. It should help with your morning sickness. Make sure to pick it up before you leave. Any other issues?”
I’m as horny as a teenage boy, I want to tell him, but I keep that little tidbit to myself, and deflect, “Nope. Nothing else.”
His eyes narrow in suspicion as if he can read my mind, but he doesn’t comment. “Alright. If anything else comes up, just let me know. Let’s check that heartbeat, and then you’ll be good to go. You don’t need to change into a gown. Just lay back and lift up your shirt.”
Lying back, I raise my rose-colored shirt past my belly button, then Dr. Bennett squirts some more pink goop onto my lower stomach and presses the doppler wand against me.
The same overwhelming awe encompasses the room as the baby's heartbeat flutters in the space for a minute or so. My mouth tilts up in the corner as I soak up the moment, wishing I could share it with Anthony and Sway, but they can’t fly to Sunnyville for every appointment. It’s simply not logical, so I’ll be left giving them updates over the phone. They’ll probably come down for the gender reveal, and they’ll definitely be here for the birth. But other than that, they have their lives in New Hampshire. And I have my life here.
“Does that ever lose its awesomeness, Dr. Bennett?” I ask, still feeling the high from experiencing the baby's heartbeat.
“Call me Ben. And honestly? No, it never loses its…awesomeness.” He delivers my completely idiotic term with a wink before adding, “Everything has to line up perfectly for a healthy baby to be born. Every chromosome. Every hormone. All of it. If this job has taught me anything, it’s that every single baby is an absolute miracle, and I love being able to experience it over and over again.”
“It must be draining, though. Don’t you get calls in the middle of the night for deliveries and things like that?”
He shrugs off my concern. “I’ve never been much of a sleeper anyway.”
“I like how you say that. As if the hospital calling you at odd hours in the middle of the night is doing you a favor.”
“My job is my life. And honestly? The nights can be a bit lonely, and I’m a sucker for a distraction. Besides, babies are one of the best distractions I can ask for.”
Tucking my hair behind my ear, I tease, “One of the best distractions?”
His laughter does weird things to my insides, but I refuse to acknowledge them as he hedges, “There are others….”
“Like what?”
I don’t know what kind of game we’re playing right now. I have no freaking clue. But I don’t want to stop. And I don’t want the little bubble I’ve found myself in to pop either.
He smirks, and his gaze heats until I’m practically a puddle in front of him as the air crackles around us like an electric current searching for a place to strike.
I blame the hormones. And the profile picture of him without his shirt on. And the fact that I know what his fingers feel like inside of me. Even if it was in the most clinical way possible, it still doesn’t stop me from squirming at the memory, making the stupid paper beneath my ass crinkle in protest.
The sound is enough to pop the damn bubble I’d found us in, causing the electric current to disappear as the door shakes with another knock. Both of us snap in its direction. Handle twisting, it opens, and Tracey’s head pops through the crack.
“Hey. We have Ms. Woods in room two, who has been having contractions consistently for a few hours. She wanted you to check her before she headed to the hospital.”
“I’ll be right there,” Dr. Bennett answers stiffly.
The door closes with a soft click, blanketing us in silence before he breaks it. “Duty calls. I’ll see you next month.”
“Yup. Thanks, Dr. Bennett. I’ll see you then.”
“Call me Ben,” he orders for a second time with a playful, albeit crooked smile.
“Thanks…Ben.”
“Much better.” He leaves to check on Ms. Woods while I replay our conversation and come to a very real conclusion.
Marcy, you need to get laid.
4
Marcy
My hair is still damp from the shower and hangs limply around my shoulders as the fog on the mirror slowly starts to dissipate. Running my fingers through it one more time, I head to my nightstand and check the time on the clock. Two in the morning. I should be sleeping, but I can’t get my brain to turn off. Face scrunching in annoyance, I stare at my computer, where I know I have three separate photo shoots that need to be e
dited, but I’m not in the mood. Instead, I slip beneath my comforter and grab my phone before opening the stupid B&B app to stare at my doctor in a swimsuit.
Because ya know, that’s healthy.
And they say men objectify women. I snort. I’m totally objectifying Ben. I’m objectifying him hard. But it’s not just his body I’m attracted to. And I think that’s the problem. He’s smart. Wealthy. Funny.
Gah!
I drop my arm back to the mattress and squeeze my eyes shut as a little voice inside my head tells me this is a terrible idea for the billionth time today.
With a huff, I unlock my phone again and open the B&B app before going to the saved profiles section.
My brows furrow when a notification pops up.
DRBen918 would like to contact you.
Convinced I read the message wrong, my eyes scan it ten more times.
Ben? As in…Dr. Bennett? The Dr. Bennett? I gulp before opening the message, my heart pounding against my ribcage.
DRBen918: I really hope this is the right Marcy123Marcy.
I grin before typing a reply.
Marcy123Marcy: And if it isn’t?
His response is almost instant.
DRBen918: Then that would be awfully embarrassing. Your pictures are blocked, so I wasn’t able to confirm my guess without possibly looking like an idiot so….
Marcy123Marcy: I have my profile set to private.
DRBen918: Why?
Marcy123Marcy: Maybe I want a guy to want me for more than my bod.
DRBen918: Good point. But you might be looking in the wrong place if you’re searching for a real connection on the B&B app….
Marcy123Marcy: Says the guy with an image of him in a swimsuit, and a giant “not looking for anything serious” disclaimer in his profile. OF COURSE, booty calls are all you’re gonna find on here.
