Page 12 of Doctor Charmer

Griffin grabs his side, laughing. The joy is worth the pain.

“You can never have enough… you know, quick thinking,” Reggie teases from across the bed and gives me a wink. “The ER driver said the balls acted like air bags for those in the back. Prevented some serious injuries.”

His appreciative words warm my heart. In the heat of the moment, I did something right. Griffin looks up at me with a smile on his face as if I’m a superhero. It’s a wonderful feeling, and I lean into it. “I’ve always been a fan of having a lot of balls around. Figured they’d come in handy someday.” I say the words before he does.

“And today was that day.” Reggie hides his smirk from Griffin.

“Always quick on your feet, Coach,” Griffin says between shallow breaths.

“Always am,” I return like a volley. “Listen, you get some rest. I’m going to check on the rest of the team. I’m going to get them settled back at the hotel, and I’ll check in on you in the morning.”

“Can I get you anything?” Reggie says, and when Griffin doesn’t react, I look over and see that he’s directed his question to me. My hand lifts to my chest with his concern.

I lay my other hand on Griffin’s arm. “You told me we were in good hands. That we’ll be good. You’ve given me all I could ever ask. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Let’s get you in to see the other girls before they are moved.” He waves a hand for me to take the lead once again, and I pause.

“I know you have other priorities, an entire emergency room to manage. You don’t have to babysit me all night long.” I offer him an out. He’s given me so much of himself.

“Are you trying to get rid of me, Coach Springwood?” His voice fills with a light playfulness I expect. “Don’t you realize what I’m doing? I’m no different from Dalia and Victoria—haven’t you realized you’re my Griffin? I’m developing a condition known as resting crush syndrome. It only has one cure.”

His words force me to put away for a minute all the responsibilities I carry, all the things I must attend to between now and the morning. “And what is that?”

“Constant attention. I think”—he drums his finger against the tip of his chin, his blue-gray eyes locking on me like I’m the only person on the planet—“at least once every waking hour.”

“What about the non-waking hours?”

“Don’t worry about those. My dreams will take care of it then.”

I bite my lower lip to prevent from bursting into a fit of giggles that Griffin will definitely never forget. I see how he’s earned his moniker.

I tilt my head and pop my hip; fully confident his eyes will snap to my enticing shorts. The same ones I’ve caught him stealing glances at when he thought I wasn’t looking. I give Reggie a brightI don’t mind you admiring my assetssmile. “I guess that makes me a virus because I’ve been infecting men since 2010.” I remind Reggie he’s not the only one with a dangerously sexy moniker.

In so many ways, we are a match. But I won’t lose my head. I’m just another pretty woman passing through his emergency room. Yes, he’s hitting on me, and I’m loving every minute. But a week from now, there will be another pretty woman here, or a visiting doctor, or a sales rep from a pharmacy company standing next to him, receiving cute phrases dipped in innuendo and empty promises.

I see him for what he is. I’ll enjoy the moments but won’t fall for the man.

Chapter Eight

Reggie

I’m back in the ER less than six hours after leaving, my usual holiday double shift part of my annual routine. I’m not one of those department heads who pull seniority and rank during holiday seasons. So many of my staff have young families at home, and us veterans cover during this time of the year to allow them to build memories at home. They sacrifice so much of themselves throughout the year already.

It’s the same reason Nurse Reynolds is already at the station when I enter. I doubt she’s even left the building, preferring to take a nap on the couch in one of the offices.

She doesn’t bother with a good morning, instead giving me a knowing look, a tilt of her head, and a soft whisper. “She spent the night.” Her wave to exam room nine is the only clue I need. My feet move on autopilott, not bothering to drop off my briefcase or grab a morning coffee.

“Arrived around four in the morning, according to the overnight,” she whispers from across the floor as I peek behind the curtain. Griffin is sound asleep, the monitors flashing butthe room silent. In the corner, Coach Springwood is curled up awkwardly on a chair pushed next to the bed. Her head rests on the arm of the chair, a pillow draped over it. The thin hospital blanket is on the floor next to her, giving me a full eyeful of her long, bare legs. Those volleyball shorts, which I definitely thought about overnight, tease me. Everything about this woman is a tease.

I bend to retrieve the blanket, lowering my briefcase to the floor. Movement. Her leg stretches out, and my eyes snap to them, a magnetic pull I won’t even try to deny. Shapely, muscular legs. This close, I see the scars from a long-ago injury on her left knee, an image of her diving for an impossible-to-get dig but it not stopping her. Fully extended, disregarding the damage the crash to the hardwood floor might cause, her focus only on the goal in front of her, reaching the ball.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.” Her voice is scratchy and is quickly followed by a yawn. She stretches her arms above her head, eyes closed, and I rise, my treacherous eyes snapping to the strip of bare skin of her torso as her T-shirt rises with her stretch. A different shirt from yesterday. The hospital’s logo has been replaced with an American flag and the five golden Olympic rings.

Guilty. “I’ll have you pose for me later.” When her eyes flutter open, I can’t help but notice the exhausted red lines etched beneath, a clear sign of her lack of sleep. “I walked you out of the hospital last night. Put you in a cab myself. You said you were going to get the girls settled for the night, and I told you to get some rest.”

“That was your first mistake—not coming back with me to tuck me in.” She doesn’t miss a beat, the unique rhythm from yesterday returning with it. So does the pitter in my chest. “Someone had to keep an eye on Sleeping Beauty.” She gestures to Griffin before she pushes up in the chair, her eyes pinnedto the blanket I hold suspended in the air between us. “Were you putting the blanket on me or removing it?” The tilt of her head and the smirk let me in on the joke. “It’s the shorts—gets them every time. You should know they have their own YouTube channel. Like and subscribe, and you’ll never miss a post.”

My gaze lingers on her limbs, and I wish this channel existed. “You do know we have an entire staff to watch over him. And as for the shorts—” She’s opened the door, and I walk through it. She presses her elbows onto the armrests, giving me permission and access. I let my gaze take the world’s slowest perusal of her long legs, not stopping until both precious limbs receive a full examination. “I’m surrounded by naked bodies all day, every day.”

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