Page 9 of Doc's Decision

A smile spreads across my face as I type back a reply.

Doc’s a real sweetheart, even if he tries to hide it under that gruff biker exterior.

And his little boy Kash is the most adorable thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Zoe eyes me suspiciously. “What’s got you grinning like the Cheshire Cat?”

I shrug, trying to play it cool. “Oh, just Doc. He wants me to watch Kash for a bit.”

Harlow raises an eyebrow. “Doc? Who’s that?”

“One of the guys from the motorcycle club Zoe’s man is prospecting for,” I explain. “Real good dude.”

Zoe scoffs. “Good dude, my ass. With the way you two have been making googly eyes at each other, there’s definitely more to it than that.”

I roll my eyes, even as a blush creeps up my neck. “We’re just friends, Zoe. He’s been going through some shit lately, and I’m helping him out, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh. You keep telling yourself that, babe.” Zoe smirks knowingly. “I saw the way you practically drooled when he took his shirt off the other day.”

“Whoa, hold up,” Harlow interjects, holding up a hand. “How’d this Doc guy get his road name anyway? Sounds like there’s a story there.”

I take another sip of beer, trying to ignore the heat flooding my cheeks. “He was an army medic back in the day. Got himself a medical discharge and ended up prospecting for the Reapers Rejects.”

Zoe snorts again. “And you know all this how? Oh, right, because you’re just friends.”

I flip her the bird, but I can’t help laughing. “Fuck off, Z. I’m allowed to have guy friends.”

“Yeah, ‘friends’ you call Daddy,” she shoots back with a wicked grin.

At this point, Harlow is practically falling out of her seat, giggling. “Wait, what now?”

I groan, dropping my head into my hands. “Oh my God, it wasn’t like that! He’s an actual dad, you pervs. I was just being nice.”

But even as the words leave my mouth, I know it’s a flimsy excuse.

The truth is, there’s a part of me that loves the idea of calling Doc “Daddy” . . . and not just because he has a kid.

The man oozes sex appeal from every pore with his piercing blue eyes and chiseled jawline.

Maybe Zoe’s right.

Maybe there is more between us than friendship.

But I’m not ready to go there, not yet.

My last relationship crashed and burned spectacularly, leaving me gun-shy about opening up again.

So for now, I’ll stick to being Doc’s friend . . . even if my traitorous body has other ideas.

Besides, we’ve both got enough baggage to fill a 747.

The last thing either of us needs is more drama.

I force a smile and grab a rib from the platter in front of me. “All right, enough about my non-existent love life. Let’s talk about something else. Harlow, tell us about this new job of yours in Austin.”

As she launches into a story about her douchebag boss, I let myself relax, grateful for the change in subject.

This is nice—catching up with old friends over some killer barbecue, shooting the shit without a care in the world.

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