Page 23 of Secret Baby for Dr. Grump

Wait. That’s it?

I look at him and realize he’s not going to push the subject. My shoulders relax a bit. “Yeah.”

“Can I come in?”

And just like that, my shoulders are tense again as I step out of the door. It’s a decision made for me before my mind can even catch up. I don’t close the door fully, though, not wanting to leave Riley alone.

But I have to handle this.

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Luke…my house is messy.”

It’s a lousy reason, I know. It’s obvious when Luke raises a brow.

“Do I look like I care about that?” At my silence, his worried expression morphs into speculation. “Or is this the same thing again?”

“What same thing?”

Brown eyes search mine, so compelling and beautiful. “You regret having sex with me. Just like you regretted what happened in the car.”

Immediately, the word sex throws the image of earlier straight into the forefront of my mind, where I get a very good view of everything: the feel of him touching me, the feel of him inside me, and the feel of him pounding hard until I’m thrown into the throes of passion and insanity. I can tell it has the same effect on him as his gaze glows with a sheer display of desire, one that looks even more intense than the last time.

My mouth goes dry. It can’t be helped, and I know my expression can’t hide how I feel about that moment, either. I can still attest the moment to being so starved after not having sex in so long, but…

Luke hit the right spots—all the right spots. And I know deep in my heart that he’s the only one who can hit those spots like that whether I’m sex-starved or not.

“I can’t lie and say I didn’t like what happened, Luke, just as I can’t say that I wasn’t a willing participant.”

Heat blazes in his gaze, pulling me in like a magnet. I resist, which dims the heat a bit as caution enters his features.

“But?” he prompts.

It’s crazy how he can read me so well. I take a deep breath.

“It’s just too complicated.”

“Why? Because I’m your boss?”

I can’t tell if saying yes means that he’ll do something about it—like make a request to transfer me to another department. I know I don’t want that, either, because despite all the tension between us, working closely with him has been undeniably eye-opening and fulfilling. In just a few weeks, observing and learning from Luke has widened my knowledge in so many ways, which in turn has reawakened my passion for the field I’ve chosen.

It’s hectic, but I’m enjoying the job, and yes, I’m enjoying dissecting the mind of the best neurosurgeon in that prestigious hospital.

“It’s not just that.” I want to explain, but explaining reveals another vulnerability—and I’ve revealed enough to him.

“Then what is it?”

I lift my chin. “Whatever it is, it’s my business. All I’m going to say is that it’s too complicated.”

His face falls, a rapid flicker of emotion that’s promptly masked. The brief display agonizes me, understanding I’m being unfair, too. But a larger part of me understands that I can’t think about him because I have to think about someone else.

Riley.

“I see. So that’s it, then.”

To Luke’s credit, his voice is neutral, and he doesn’t seem angry. But also, why does he sound so patient?

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