Page 33 of In You
Folding the dish towel neatly, I place it on the counter and take four very slow steps toward her and then lean down, putting my hands on either side of her chair and bringing myself to her eye level.
"Because I'm your savior," I say simply, leaning forward to place my lips ever so softly to the top of her head.
She inhales sharply, tensing up under me. But I needed to get that out of the way before the evaluation so that it could be fresh in her mind for when Alexander asks his questions. It's selfishas fuck, but I'd like to know how safe it'd be to start a sexual relationship with her. And when.
I'll wait. But I'm ashamed to say I'm hungry for sex. With her.
My need for this woman is eating away at me.
My alarm dings again, and I pull away from her to grab it and head to the front. "When we're done, Suzanne should be by with some clothes."
"Who's Suzanne?" she asks, but I'm already stepping out the front door, leaving it open and settling myself in a rocking chair on the porch, lighting up a cigarette.
I'm not usually a smoker, but by the time he's pulling down the gravel road I've finished over half of it. Anxious energy that has more to do than Tamryn's situation flows through me, vibrating within my body and dredging up old memories I'd rather stay buried.
I don't like psychiatrists, that's why I hired the best of the best. I needed to give her a fighting chance.
Alexander pulls up to the house in a black Mercedes and steps out looking clean shaven in a three piece suit and tie. Tall, and with a distinctive jaw line, he exudes professionalism and confidence galore that looks so out of place against the backdrop of my woods it's almost laughable.
I frown, thinking he looks like an actor I've seen somewhere. His light brown hair is tamed into an elegant style, his muscles fill in his suit, and he of course walks with the swagger of a man used to wealth. City guy.
Not able to help myself, I scoff.
Fuck me.
When he spots me he takes off his sunglasses. Every muscle in my body locks down, and my hackles immediately raise at how fucking ice cold his blue eyes are, but Ringo simply picks his head up to look at him, thumping his tail a couple times before going back to bird watching.
If Ringo's okay with him, he must be alright then.
"Caleb Bowers?" he calls sharply, tugging at the lapel of his suit. I snuff out the cigarette and then walk to the top of the steps, holding out my hand as he bounds up them easily, able to take two at a time his legs are so long.
"The one and only."
He pauses for a moment, giving me a slow once over. I clear my throat and try not to let it bother me that he's checking out my body language, but he takes his eyes smoothly from mine to look through the opened front door towards where Tamryn sits. A breeze brings with it the smell of fall tinged with the dust he picked up on his way in.
"She doing okay today?"
I nod. "Yeah, I think she was Tamryn for most of our breakfast," I explain, keeping my voice low. He stays still while Ringo and Tink sniff around his feet and legs, getting an amused look on his face as he squats down to pet them.
"It's a shame I'm too busy for pets," he says wistfully. I grunt as he looks up at me with a little smile. "I'm gone too much for work, you see."
I like him immediately. He looks like a cold ass villain, but he's really just a softie deep inside.
Jerking my head towards the door, I take the lead. "You can hang your suit jacket right here." I point to the coat rack and fold my arms as he puts his briefcase on the floor to do just that.
"Thanks."
When he turns his back to me for a moment, I look down trying not to be judgmental, but I do a little assessment of my own. His shoes are leather and he looks impeccable, nothing like how someone usually looks when they step off a red eye. And for a moment, I worry that Alexander's going to remind Tamryn too much of Calvin.
"Hey, uh, take your tie off, and roll up the sleeves of your dress shirt a little, yeah? I don't want you accidentally bringing up any bad memories."
He gives me a smile as he does so, even going so far as to run his fingers through his hair, messing it up a little. I give him a very toned down approving grin back, relieved he's not a rigid asshole and will listen to me. The other psychiatrist I've had dealings with didn't.
I lead the way into the living room, being sure to go around the couch the long way so she doesn't feel snuck up on from behind. Tamryn looks over her shoulder and locks eyes with me before sliding them to Alexander, and just like I knew she would, she visibly stiffens. Frowning.
If his smile from outside was whiskey, Alexander gives her what I would consider to be a flat-water version. He doesn't lay on the charm at all. Stopping about two feet shy of her, he adopts an eerily sober demeanor, despite how I just made him dress down, and he holds his hand out to her.
"Hi, Tamryn, how are you? My name is Dr. Alexander Richardson."
