Page 26 of Hat Trick Daddies

My desk is a controlled mess, neatly arranged folders on one side, my laptop open to the latest roster updates, and a steaming mug of coffee nestled next to my keyboard.

Dr. Martin has been in and out all morning, his usual gruffness tempered by what I can only describe as reluctant approval.

He hasn’t barked at me once today, which is a new record. It seems like he’s finally realized I know what I’m doing.

The work is routine but welcome, a reprieve after last night’s whirlwind of emotions.

I’m halfway through typing up an evaluation when movement catches my eye.

It’s Tyler.

He strides past my office with his usual easy confidence, his broad shoulders filling the doorway for a brief moment. He glances inside, his dark eyes locking with mine.

A quick, charming smile spreads across his face, followed by a wink that’s so effortless it’s almost maddening.

Before I can process it, he’s gone, disappearing down the hallway like a phantom.

My cheeks burn instantly.

I duck my head, pretending to study the text on my screen as though my computer holds the answers to life’s biggest mysteries.

But it’s no use.

The memory of his kiss, warm, firm, and entirely overwhelming, floods my mind.

“It was just a kiss, Ally,” I whisper, trying to steady myself. “Chill out.”

The rational part of me knows it shouldn’t have been a big deal. But the truth is, that one kiss sent my world spinning.

I close my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and letting the rhythmic clatter of the keyboard settle my nerves as I dive back into my work.

Dr. Martin had asked me to do an inventory count earlier, so I grab a clipboard and head to the storage room.

The cool, sterile smell of alcohol wipes and disinfectant fills the air as I start combing through rows of neatly labeled shelves. Gauze, medical tape, splints, ice packs, it’s a parade of items that have become second nature to me over the years.

Hours pass without me noticing. When I finally finish, I go to hand the report to Dr. Martin.

He glances over it, his sharp eyes scanning the details. Then, to my surprise, he nods. “Good work, Dr. Perry,” he says gruffly.

The words take a second to sink in. “Thank you, Dr. Martin,” I reply, trying to keep the shock out of my voice.

He grunts in response, turning back to his desk. I can’t help but smile a little as I return to mine.

It’s early afternoon when Dr. Martin announces he’s heading out for lunch. He pauses at the door, his sharp gaze fixed on me.

“Don’t burn the place down while I’m gone,” he says, his tone gruff but not unkind.

“I’ll do my best.”

The silence that follows feels strange.

Before I can leave, a shadow crosses the doorway, and I glance up to see Brooks standing there. His tall frame fills the space, his arms crossed over his chest in a way that makes him look even broader.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low and a little stiff.

“Hey, what’s up?”

He steps inside, his boots scuffing softly against the floor.

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