Page 28 of Auctioned to Dr. Daddy

“Someone let loose that his wife’s expecting twins,” says Nathan, in explanation. “And if you pair that with the case he’s working on…”

“Everyone has my name in their mouth,” says Kurt. He might be wording it like a complaint, but the man doesn’t look too broken up about it.

“Congratulations on your twins,” I say, politely. The idea of having a child makes me nervous, so twins—two whole wriggly, soft-skulled people totally relying on you—is nerve-wracking to even think about.

“We’re going out for a cup of coffee,” says Nathan, giving my shoulder a squeeze before pulling his hand away. He shoves them both into the pockets of his doctor’s coat, as though that’s the only way he can keep them off of me.

The coffee outing is news to me, but I’m sure not going to complain. Any amount of time that I get to spend with Nathan is amazing, especially when it’s outside of work.

Kurt raises his eyebrows in question, looking surprised. He doesn’t say anything about it though, just finishes reminding Nathan about coming by for dinner before excusing himself.

Nathan leads the way out to the cars. He’s got his Rolls Royce parked up front, in a spot with his name written on the placard. I don’t know anything about cars, but even I can tell that this is a nice model. He pulls one hand free from his pocket and pats the curve of the trunk. “I thought that I could drive?”

“You just don’t want to get in my car until the tires are changed,” I tease, sliding up to the passenger door. “You can admit it.”

“Honestly, I don’t like the thought of you doing that. Bald tires are no joke. A blow out could end up with you as a patient,” says Nathan.

He unlocks the doors, continuing once we get in, “Kurt’s wife was in a nasty accident a few years back, right before they started dating. You don’t want something like that to happen to you.”

“I’ll get them changed out tomorrow, I promise.” That seems to ease his worries enough that he’s at least willing to drive us both out to the coffee shop.

I’ve never been to this one; it’s a high-end place out at the square, with polished black marble on the counters, and the scent of rich, freshly ground coffee in the air. No shtick or fun gags or themes. Just pure, freshly made coffee.

It takes hardly any time at all for the brews to be made.

Nathan is such a regular that he didn’t even have to order his, the woman just already knew it.

And I like my coffee simple. A dark roast, served hot, with heavy whipping cream instead of milk and a single splash of vanilla syrup. It makes the drink taste like a liquid marshmallow and turns it extra creamy.

We take our coffee to one of the tables, sliding into it. This feels strangely intimate, like a date. Especially when Nathan knocks his shoe against mine and smirks.

Holy shit. Is this a date?

Nerves flare to life.

All the butterflies that had been sleeping in my chest wake up in one go, fluttering into a total frenzy. I curl one hand around the cup, letting the heat of it soak into my joints. “You didn’t seem too interested in going to dinner.”

Nathan just shrugs. “I’m not much for his wife’s cooking.”

“Okay. And the real reason is…?”

Nathan’s eyes glitter. “I don’t have much free time, and right now, there’s someone else I would rather spend it with.”

My stomach swoops.

There’s no doubt about it now.

What happened to not messing around after we started working together? The question is right there on the tip of my tongue. I know that I should ask it, but I don’t want to risk cutting this moment short.

Instead, I tell him, “You’re not a bad guy to spend time with, either. I know it was just work but… I enjoyed doing the rounds with you. Everyone was right, you’re exactly the sort of person that I would want to learn from.”

“You were pretty good yourself.” There’s something weighty to the way Nathan says that. It makes me shudder, heat prickling at my skin. I can’t help but think about the way it sounded when he called me good while he was fucking me. My mouth is suddenly very, very dry even despite the coffee.

Okay, so maybe that’s a thing for me. At least when it’s coming from Nathan.

I like impressing him. I’ve spent all day trying to impress him at rounds, rattling off the answer to every question with as little hesitation as I could, taking on everything from the IVs to the blood draws, and trying to show him that I knew what I was doing.

Maybe it worked, and I did impress him. Maybe he just likes me more than either of us wants to admit.

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