Page 28 of Single Daddy Doctor Dreamy

Joel exhales slowly, his shoulders sagging. “I’ve spent so much time trying to fix the cracks that losing her left behind for them and for me. But I’ve realized… some cracks don’t ever fully heal. They just become part of who we are.”

I reach over, my hand lightly brushing his.

He glances at me, his expression softening, though the shadow of loss still lingers in his eyes. “I think… with you here, Lucy, they’re starting to find their light again. And maybe I am too.”

Finn’s triumphant cheer breaks the moment. He has taken over as the undisputed Monopoly champion, his glee evident in the pile of brightly colored money in front of him.

"Think you can beat Finn at Monopoly?" Joel asks, nodding toward the board game.

"Not a chance," I reply, laughing. "He’s ruthless."

As the evening wears on, the house grows quieter, the energy of the day giving way to a soothing calm. The fire crackles softly in the hearth, and the glow of the Christmas tree lights create a magical ambiance. It feels like the kind of night you want to hold on to, the kind of night you wish could last forever.

Joel and I stay on the couch long after the boys have gone to bed, our conversation drifting to lighter topics like holiday plans, favorite childhood memories, and the merits of marshmallowsin hot cocoa. But beneath it all, there’s an undercurrent of something deeper.

"This has been a good day," he says finally, his voice low. "A really good day."

"It has," I agree, my gaze fixed on the flickering flames. "Feels like… like a family."

He reaches for my hand, his touch warm and steady. "Lucy, I…"

The sound of the clock chiming midnight cuts through the air, startling us both. He pulls back slightly, his expression shifting to something more guarded. The moment is gone, but its weight lingers, a shadow cast by the firelight.

It feels like things are about to change for Joel and me. I guess I’ll have to wait and see.

14

JOEL

The hotel ballroom is a whirlwind of elegance and opulence, a dazzling stage set for the annual charity gala in support of shelter for the homeless in the area. The clink of glasses and low murmur of conversation mingle with the soft strains of a local band. It’s the kind of event that demands perfection: tailored suits, glittering dresses, and smiles so polished they almost seem painted on. I’m here out of obligation, representing the hospital and making nice with donors, but my focus is elsewhere.

I’m scanning the room, searching for one person. My tie feels a little too tight, the collar of my shirt a bit too stiff, but when I finally spot her, all discomfort melts away.

Lucy.

She steps into the ballroom like she owns it, her confidence palpable. Her dress is a deep emerald green that hugs her curves and leaves just enough to the imagination. Her hair cascades over her shoulders in soft waves, and her smile… it’s radiant, magnetic. Heads turn, whispers ripple through the crowd, but she doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she just doesn’t care.

She’s here with Aiden, officially, but his protective, brotherly presence is more of a formality than a barrier. As her gazesweeps across the room, it lands on me, and for a heartbeat, everything else fades. The noise, the people, the glittering lights. None of it matters.

She’s here.

I make my way toward her, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. By the time I reach her, she’s mid-conversation with a group of people I vaguely recognize. She glances at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and excuses herself.

"Joel," she says, her voice light but carrying a hint of something deeper. "You clean up well."

"So do you," I reply, my gaze sweeping over her. "Though that feels like the understatement of the year."

She laughs, the sound warm and genuine, and for a moment, I forget about everything else. The hospital, the politics, the expectations. None of it holds a candle to her.

"Are you going to ask me to dance or are you just going to stand there staring?" she teases, one brow arched.

"I was building up to it," I say, offering her my hand. "May I?"

She takes it without hesitation, her fingers fitting perfectly against mine. "I thought you’d never ask."

The dance floor is crowded but intimate, the music slow and sultry. I pull her close, my hand resting on the small of her back, and she tilts her head to look up at me. The chemistry between us is electric, undeniable. Every move, every glance, every subtle shift of our bodies feels charged, like the air before a storm.

"Everyone’s watching," she whispers, her breath warm against my neck.

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