Page 45 of Doctor's Surprise Twins

I shake my head. “Not at all. I’ve spent so much of my life trying to avoid it that I never gave myself a second to think if I wanted it.”

“I want to be honest with you, and I want you to be honest with me. If what I tell you is a deal breaker for you, I understand.”

I nod him on.

“I’m not sure what this is between us. All I know is that there’s something about you that draws me to you. When you’re around, I can’t stop staring at you. When you’re not, you’re all I can think about. I’m addicted to you in every way possible, but this is all new for me. I don’t know what it means or where it could go. But I do know that I’m not looking to get married again. I don’t want to have children. All I could ever be for you is temporary. I don’t want to break your heart or lead you on. I feel like this is a little too late given the circumstances, but I hope you agree that it’s better late than never.”

I nod. “I understand, Ethan. And I’m not trying to trap you into anything. When we got together in your office, I wasn’t thinking that it would turn into a lifelong relationship. I just got lost in the moment. I know you feel guilty about taking my virginity, and I’m sorry for that. I don’t regret what we did. I justwish we could go back and go about it differently. You know, date, and get to know one another, so I felt comfortable telling you about that part of myself. Then you wouldn’t feel so guilty about it now.” I take a sip of wine.

“Do you believe in destiny?”

I lower my glass, setting it on my leg as my fingers stay wrapped around the stem. “I’m not sure. I’ve always gone back and forth on fate and destiny.”

His brows draw together. “What’s the difference?”

“Destiny is where you’re bound to end up based on the decisions you make in life. Fate is not really having a choice or a say. It doesn’t matter what you do, you’ll always end up in the same place.”

“So, you and I…” He takes my glass of wine, putting it on the glass coffee table as he leans closer. “Would you say we were brought together by destiny or fate?” It’s clear he’s moving in for a kiss. He’s getting closer and closer, so I wrap my arms around his neck.

“I guess that depends on if we end up together, but there’s only one way to find out,” I say, pulling his mouth to mine.

His lips are warm, but his tongue is cold from the wine—it’s slowly dancing and twisting with mine. He’s not in a hurry. This isn’t like the times we got together at the hospital. This is slow, teasing, and planned. There’s no rush or worry about being caught. This isn’t us coming together in a moment of desperation. It’s moments like these that will lead us where we need to go in life, whether our paths cross and intertwine or if they’re only meant to cross.

His hands find my hips and pull me closer. I throw my leg over his hips, taking my place on his lap. Now, our kiss becomes more intense. His hands travel my body: squeezing my hips, running up my sides, massaging my breasts, and wrapping around my neck to control the speed of the kiss. I feel his bodycome alive beneath me, and my hips take on a mind of their own, rocking to grind against him. I’m still slightly sore from being with him last week, but the pleasure outweighs the tinge of pain.

“Can I take you to my bedroom?” he whispers against my lips.

Our kiss has broken off, but I haven’t pulled away. I keep my forehead against his, meeting his darkened eyes as I nod my approval. He tightens his hold on me and stands, carrying me toward the door. My legs wrap around his middle, and my arms snake around his neck. His hands are large, and his fingers are splayed as he holds me by my ass. I’ve never felt so small or protected.

He goes back to kissing me as he walks us through the house. I can tell when we enter his bedroom though because the smell of him is all around me. When he lays me on his bed, I snap back to reality. I scoot up the bed and sit up. “Actually…” I say, causing him to pause on crawling up. “It was a pretty busy day at work. Do you mind if I take a quick shower before we…”

I see a glint flicker in his eyes before he asks, “Only if I can get in with you.”

I’ve never showered with another person, but how bad can it be? He’s already had me laid out before him, naked in his office with the worst lighting available. This has to be better than that. “Okay,” I agree.

He holds out his hand and I take it. He gives me a slight tug, helping me to my feet. Keeping my hand in his, he leads the way to the attached bathroom. He enters and flips on the light.

It’s a man’s bathroom. There’s dark tile, a pattern made up of blacks, browns, maroon, midnight blue, and forest green. The floor is smooth concrete, and it’s been sealed because there is a shine to it. The toilet must have its own closet because I don’t see it. There is a jacuzzi tub and an open shower behind a pane of glass. The vanity is large, with his and hers sinks. Betweenthem is a seat to do hair and makeup, and the counter is covered in women’s products. There’s a blow dryer, with the cord unwound like it was used just earlier today. There’s a flat iron, brushes, combs, and clips. There’s a makeup bag overflowing with various items. When I look at the far sink, there’s a single toothbrush, a hairbrush, and a shaving kit.

He turns the water on and comes back to me, noticing that I’ve been taking in the scene. “I haven’t let anyone in here since she passed.”

I look at him to find him rubbing the back of his neck with his left hand. “Like… at all?”

He shakes his head. “No. I have a cleaning staff, but I don’t allow them in my bedroom or bathroom.”

I cross my arms. “So… Who cleans? You?”

He nods. “To the best of my ability.” He chuckles. “I mean, when the bedding needs to be washed, I strip the bed and toss everything in the hallway. That night, I pick up the bedding from the laundry room and make the bed. I dust about once a month and have a robot vacuum that takes care of the floors. The bathroom, I clean as needed.”

“Why? Why pay for a cleaning staff if you don’t let them clean?”

He takes a deep breath. “The maid I have now is the maid that I hired the day I bought this house. She and Amelia got close. That’s my wife’s name: Amelia.”

I nod.

“Anyway, after she passed, she tried to clean out Amelia’s things for me, thinking it would be better if I didn’t have to do it myself. But we hadn’t even talked about that yet. I came home to find her cleaning out the closet, and I lost it. I screamed at her, told her to put everything back the way it was, and I fired her. I hired her back about a week later, and she understood that she had overstepped. To me, it felt like my life was being erasedaround me. One minute I had it all: a home, a wife, and a baby on the way. The next, everything was gone. Baby gone. Wife gone. Home was changing, and things were being taken away without my say. After that, I banned the staff from entering my bedroom.

He nods. “I understand if I’m a bigger mess than you bargained for. I wouldn’t blame you if you turned around and left right now. That’s probably what I’d do if some woman brought me to a house that was still filled with her dead husband’s belongings.” That sadness is back, and it makes me wonder if this is just another tactic to keep people at bay.

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