Page 7 of Burned By the Broken Doctor

The familiar sting of pine needles against my windshield welcomes me on the path to the house. The gravel road crunches beneath my tires as the car rolls down the winding path I practically know by heart. Then, the trees open up, revealing a wide clearing dominated by a large, three-bay building. I pull up to the charming old Victorian house that Damon and I grew up in. The front yard is neatly kept, with flowers blooming along the path to the door. Damon must be working hard to keep it up.

There’s a custom garage by the side, and the large doors hang open, offering me a glimpse of the chaos inside. Tools hang haphazardly on pegboards, an unfinished muscle car gleams under the harsh fluorescent lights, and hunched over the engine bay is my brother.

The sound of my approaching car pulls his attention. He straightens up, wiping his grease-stained hands on a rag, and walks out to the open, shading his eyes with his right hand.

As soon as his gaze lands on me, a wide grin splits his face. I take a deep breath and get out of the car.

Damon hasn't changed much. Same mop of auburn hair, a little longer now and pulled back in a messy ponytail. Age has etched a few new lines around his eyes, and a dark beard has sprouted, effectively hiding the scar that snakes across his chin—a souvenir from his SEAL days.

“Em!” he booms in a rough voice filled with genuine warmth.

He jogs over, rubbing a towel over palms and forearms thick with muscle. Before I can blink, he's engulfing me in a suffocating bear hug. The scent of oil and leather fills my senses.

“Hey stranger!” I hug him back. “Good to see you.”

He chuckles, squeezing me tighter. “How was the trip? You okay? Still remember the way home easily?”

The rapid-fire questions are vintage Damon. He was such a constant figure in my life growing up. It’s funny how our roles were reversed six years ago when I was the one welcoming him home from his military service.

“Trip was fine, I’m good, and yes, I’ll never forget the way home,” I mumble, smiling at his enthusiasm.

As I pull away from Damon’s embrace, I notice a man standing in the garage shadows. He’s tall, with dark hair and a rugged, handsome face. My heart skips a beat.

“Who’s he?”

Damon finally releases me, his hand lingering on my shoulder for a beat too long before his gaze drifts past me. “Oh, right,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “That’s Liam Miller,” Damon motions for me to follow him. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Liam Miller. I know he’s Damon’s friend from his military days and the son of Harmony Creek’s beloved Dr. Miller, but I’ve never met him in person. We only spoke on the phone once, five years ago.

Now he’s here as Damon’s best man, I guess.

We walk over, and Damon introduces us with a smile. “Liam, this is my sister, Emma. Emma, this is Liam, my buddy from the military.”

“Nice to meet you, Emma,” Liam nods, extending a hand.

As I take his hand, my heart races. There’s something in his eyes, a quick flicker that makes me uneasy. He has stormy-gray eyes that are mysterious, and right now, those eyes are glittering with swirling emotions that feel strangely familiar.

“Do I know you?” I realize too late that my voice is tinged with suspicion.

“No, I don’t think so,” Liam replies smoothly.

Damon looks between us, a hint of concern on his face. “Is there a problem?”

“No problem,” I murmur quickly. “Let’s go inside.”

As we walk into the house, I can’t take my eyes off Liam. There’s an irresistible beauty about his sharp cheekbones and chiseled jaw that could have been carved from marble, save for the careless stubble roughing up his olive skin. He’s freaking handsome—the kind of big, bad wolf handsome that can send knees knocking.

I’ve never met Liam, so why does he look so…familiar?

It’s his eyes. Those eyes could hold anyone captive. Stormy-gray pools that have once bewitched me.

No way. My breath hitches in my throat. It couldn't be. This had to be some kind of cruel cosmic joke.

I know who Liam Miller is.

I remember those same eyes burning into mine as he pulled my dress up my thighs, slid my panties to the side, and?—

Holy fuck. I suck in a quick breath, feeling my cheeks heat up and a throbbing start between my legs in remembrance of Liam Miller digging his cock into me, over and over, as I screamed in pleasure. All the memories of that whirlwind weekend fling in New York rush through my head.

---