Page 42 of The Doctor's Simple Life

“Like, what?”

“Like a human.”

“You wound me,” he says, clutching his chest like he’s in agony. “You’re being totally unreasonable.”

“I thought you liked it when I was unreasonable. I thought you liked it when I…” I trail off deliberately, letting him fill the rest of the sentence in himself.

He leans in towards me to whisper into my ear. “If it weren’t completely unprofessional, I would push you against that wall and devour you right now.”

“But,” I say, pushing him away with a smile. “It would be completely unprofessional.”

“Damn professionalism.” He sighs, then pushes me against the wall anyway.

I let him kiss me for a few seconds, not really wanting the moment to end. But someone’s going to walk along here any second, so I tear away. “Come on,” I say, turning away to head down the ward.

He scampers along after me, taking my hand to squeeze it for a second. Then we head off to do more work.

And he’s like this with all the patients. He jokes with them; he remembers little details about their lives. He smiles. If you had asked me three weeks ago if I thought that this man would be capable of caring like this, I’d have laughed until my belly hurt.

The Reece I met when he arrived is worlds away from this. He’s either become a damn good actor, or this is a part of himself he’s had hidden away all this time, and he’s only just discovering it. I hope it’s the latter. I want to believe that there’s a better man inside him somewhere than the one I met.

At least for now, he’s acting just like any other doctor here. He’s friendly and kind. He’s polite to waitstaff. He’s even started saying hello to the administrative staff, which is kind of a miracle, given how much he complains about them.

He won’t want to hear this, but he’s settling right into the role of the country doctor.

I hate to admit it because I don’t know how long it’ll last, but I really like this side of Reece. He’s been nice to have in the office. It’s been good to have him be so kind and funny, not to mention the stolen kisses whenever we get a chance. It’s the honeymoon stage of whatever relationship we’re in.

And I don’t want to presume anything of this. We’re not exactly going out. I don’t think it’s that deep to him. But right now, it feels good. I like that.

If he was staying, if he really did live out here, then maybe I would say something. I’m not a shy person. I don’t believe in holding my feelings to myself, for good or bad. I’m not always the best at saying them, but it’s always better to get stuff out, in my experience.

But our relationship — such as it is — and its future is an argument I don’t want to have with him while things are going so well. Because the fact is, he is going to leave. He has to.

He’ll return to his city life and forget all about me.

But right now, I have the most wonderful version of him, and I can’t be sorry for that.

We finish up in the ward, making sure everyone has everything they need. People keep commenting on me and Reece being together, and I’m starting to think that they’re talking. Maybe Gramma is spreading rumors. I wouldn’t be surprised.

If we were really a thing, she would be so righteous, thinking it was all her idea. Of course it’s not, but I’d let her believe it.

But we aren’t a thing. None of it is more than a wild fantasy.

We head back towards our office, joking with each other like usual. He’s surprisingly easy to wind up for a cool guy. Most guys like him barely listen to a girl like me, but I’m figuring out all the best ways to get under his skin. He’s clearly used to quick-paced banter though, because he thinks of quips faster than I can.

Still, I hold my own. He’s not going to get the better of me about anything, ever. I won’t let him.

As we approach the office, without warning he pushes me down a side corridor, presses me up against the wall, and makes good on his promise to kiss me.

It’s deep and passionate, warm, wanting. His hands pin me to the wall, one on either side of my head, and his hips roll into mine. This is so inappropriate, but I don’t care. At least, I don’t for a few seconds.

Not while his hands are on me. Not while his lips crash into mine, while he’s treating me like he really wants me. Like I mean something to him.

And if it wasn’t such a public place, if he never had to leave, I wish that it would never end. But it must.

Of course, it must.

Even if that breaks my heart.

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