Page 30 of Doctor Second Chance

“Hey, what do you say we sit on the back porch? It’s been unbearably hot during the days, but the evenings out there are surprisingly mild.”

“Sure. Sounds nice.”

I follow Shep out through the French doors lining the back of his den. My curiosity is piqued as he steps out, flipping a switch that turns on the pool light and another for the overhead fan. The evening air hits my skin, surprisingly pleasant after the day’s scorching heat.

"Wow," I breathe, taking in the scene before me.

The covered patio is spacious, with a large stone fireplace dominating one wall. Plush outdoor furniture draws me, and I sink into the sofa, easing the tension in my shoulders. The centerpiece of the backyard is a stunning aqua pool, its surface reflecting the soft glow of strategically placed lights.

"This is gorgeous," I say, genuinely impressed. "And you're right; it's nice out here."

"I'm glad you like it. It's my favorite spot to unwind after a long day.” He walks over to a small wine refrigerator on the opposite wall. “Red or white?”

“Such a treat! They didn’t offer wine at UAB. How about white for the warm evening?”

“Perfect. That would have been my choice, too.”

He settles beside me, leaving a respectable distance between us, and hands me the glass of liquid gold. I might think this feels romantic if I didn’t know any better.

We fall into easy conversation, catching up on the years that have passed. I tell him about my job and the challenges and triumphs of the politics of working in the marine industry. He listens intently, asking thoughtful questions that show he's genuinely interested.

He shares stories about his residency, the grueling hours, and the cases that shaped him as a surgeon. I find myself leaning in, captivated by the passion in his voice when he talks about his work.

Time seems to slip away as we talk, laughing at shared memories and filling in the gaps of our lives. It's surprisingly comfortable, this rediscovered camaraderie. The initial awkwardness has melted away, replaced by a warmth that feels both familiar and new.

Shep recounts a particularly harrowing surgery and I can't help but marvel at how easy this feels. Being with him here in this moment, it's as if the years and heartache between us have faded into the background.

As he finishes a rather hilarious story of him sneezing during surgery, we both get a good laugh. We sit there, catching our breath, the laughter slowly fading but leaving a warm, happy feeling behind. In moments like this, it’s easy to forget the past and enjoy being in the present with him.

A comfortable silence falls between us. The soft glow from the pool illuminates his face, and I find myself studying his chiseled features. This new rugged handsomeness he has acquired since college adds to his already striking looks.

Suddenly, he shifts closer. My breath catches as his eyes lock onto mine, filled with an intensity I remember all too well. Before I can process what's happening, he leans in.

His lips meet mine, soft yet insistent. For a split second, I'm frozen in surprise. Then, instinct takes over. My right hand reaches up, cupping his jaw as I melt into the kiss. It's both familiar and thrillingly new, with a decade of unspoken feelings pouring out in this moment.

I’ve dreamed of this for so long. Even after I consciously pushed them out, he would come to visit me at night. Feeling his lips on mine is exhilarating. I’m intoxicated by the smell and feel of him.

I'm hyper-aware of every sensation—the warmth of his skin under my fingers, the slight roughness on his chin, the way his hand gently cradles the back of my head. My injured hand is a useless barrier between us, hanging in my sling.

As we part, my heart races. Shep's forehead rests against mine, his breath warm on my cheek.

"Elle," he murmurs, voice husky. "I've wanted to do that since the moment I saw you in the ER."

I let out a shaky laugh, overwhelmed by the rush of emotions. "I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it too."

He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching mine. "Is this okay? I know it's complicated, with everything..."

I nod, unable to find the right words. It's more than okay. It feels right, like coming home after a long journey. At this moment, nothing is more right.

Shep seems to sense my inner conflict. He takes my good hand in his, giving it a gentle embrace, and kisses it, his eyes never leaving mine.

I lean in and place my lips on his, giving him my answer.

The kiss deepens, and with it, the years of pent-up longing and unresolved tension come surging to the surface. It's as if we're both starving for the taste of each other, our mouths moving with a desperate urgency that speaks volumes of our shared history and the undeniable attraction that still exists between us.

Shep's hands are in my hair, tugging gently, angling my head to deepen the kiss further. I can feel the desire radiating off him in waves, and it ignites a fire within me—a fire I haven't felt in years.

My body responds instinctively, pressing against him, seeking the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of our clothes.

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