Page 13 of Auctioned to Dr. Daddy

“The drive’s about the same. I’m right between the cities. I’m going because my current mentor thinks it’s a good idea. She wants me to learn from the best.” Demi’s expression turns sheepish, her gaze flicking away from me, then back.

She holds her hand across the table, offering it to me as if we’re meeting for the first time. “And, well, you’re the best. I’m your new shadow.”

I blink at her, lips pursing for a moment.

But she’s right.

I was informed that there would be a new resident tailing after me for a while.

I didn’t think that it would be Demi though! Not that I’m upset by this in the slightest.

According to my brother, she has a good head on her shoulders. Even better, she’s hot as hell. From her full lips to her full chest and everything in between.

And you know, if you’re around your own personal little shadow for so many hours, they might as well be easy on the eyes.

“I didn’t say anything last night, because I didn’t want to make the whole thing weird,” says Demi.

I give her hand a shake. “It’s not weird, I promise.”

“My mentor is the one that put it all together. She said that you’re the best in the field, and that’s who she wanted me to learn from.”

“Tyler said that you pick up everything quicker than the other residents in your year.”

“I’m not that great at what I do.” Demi’s cheeks flush again. It’s a good look on her. I’m struck with the realization that I wouldn’t mind seeing her blush all the time. At least, more often tonight.

“You know, taking the compliment isn’t going to kill you. Being modest all the time really doesn’t get you places the way people say it will. I’ve found that it’s far more effective to brag about it some.”

Demi laughs. “I’m not good at bragging about my hospital work.”

“But you’re good at bragging about other things?” I question, slapping my hand lightly against the table. “Alright, hit me with it. What are you good at, Demi?”

“I’m damned good on a horse,” she says, clearly far more confident when it comes to her hobbies.

“I’ve never ridden,” I admit. Horses are large animals. It’s impressive that she’s capable of controlling something that big. I think it says a lot about her determination. And it explains how fit she is, too. “Do you own one?”

“Sort of,” says Demi. “I rent a house on Apple Green Farm. The owner lets me take some cash off the monthly payments when I do work around the place.”

That surprises me. Not that she rides. I can tell that she has absolutely killer calves. Her pink dress shows them off amazingly. “You have time for that?”

“I get at least one day off a week,” says Demi, with a shrug. “And it’s fine to do at least half of the work late at night, or early in the morning. The ring has spotlights in it, and the barn’s pretty large. If I can’t get riding in, I take care of the tack or the stalls, that sort of thing.”

The way she says it makes it clear that Demi doesn’t realize how amazing her task management skills must be. Or maybe it’s not about management. Maybe it’s just that she loves it so much, even the stupidly long hours that the hospital requires from its residents aren’t enough to get in the way.

“My daughter would love something like that,” I tell her.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and flip it open. The home screen is a picture of my baby girl, out at the beach.

She’s tawny-haired and chubby-cheeked, and the literal fucking light of my life. “Tabitha. She’s five.”

As I hold it over to Demi, I realize that the horses must not be any different than my kid.

Timewise, at least.

Tabitha is too young to comprehend the idea of working long hours. But she does love the people who work at the hospital nursery, and she adores getting to play with my stethoscope back home.

You make the time for the things you love, no matter what they are.

“She’s adorable,” says Demi, the very tips of her trimmed nails brush over my skin when she reaches out to steady the phone. “What does your wife think about this whole little date we’re on?”

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