Page 54 of Hearts Held
“Whoa. It’s all right! Sorry to give you a scare. I wanted to stop by and see if I could still request your presence for dinner tomorrow night?” Dr. Brendon asks with a warm smile.
I reply with a polite smile, crossing my arms and giving a small nod. “Of course.”
He nods in reply. “Good. I was going to be very cross with you if you couldn’t make it.” He gives a small chuckle that provides an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Before I turn to finish up my patient care, I hear a smooth, icy voice behind me.
“I suggest you get your sticky hands off my nurse.” Everett’s voice trails over my skin. The unease that squirmed within me melts as I lean toward his words. My breath catches as I peer up to find Dr. Brendon narrowing his blue eyes as they fill with malice.
His hands grip my shouldersharder.
My features turn to confusion, for I find the gesture unnecessary, and it reawakens the unsettled feeling in my stomach. “Dr. Brendon—”
He cuts me off. “Last time I checked, she isournurse at this hospital. So her responsibilities lie here first.” He tilts his head arrogantly.
This pissing contest immediately becomes annoying. I slowly raise my hand to wrench the grasp of Dr. Brendon’s fingers off my shoulders as Everett states, “Well, fun fact, Dr. Brendon. I own this town.” Everett nowstands next to me, fixing the cuff of his tweed jacket. “And I own this hospital. So she works exclusively for the Adders, and technicallyyouwork forme.So get your fucking hands off her.”
Before I can get Dr. Brendon’s hands off, he whips them off my shoulders and begins to point at Everett.
“You know, you and your family are so fucking pompous,” he states, his eyebrows narrowed, pointing his finger an inch from Everett’s chest. Dr. Brendon’s clean crisp scent and white physician’s coat and Everett’s dark tweed jacket and black button-up shirt with matching trousers contrast the light and dark personas standing before me.
Everett looks at Dr. Brendon’s pointed finger then gazes at his face, unamused. “I suggest you control your finger, before I shove it up your ass,” he calmly states.
Dr. Brendon’s mouth gapes.
Everett turns toward me, his hooded eyes peering into my soul, sending shivers down my spine. My skin prickles, anticipating his words, his next movement.
A dark, violent part of me envisions him punching Dr. Brendon in the throat and claiming me.
Jesus.
What is wrong withme?
“Go to dinner with me instead of him,” he asks politely, ignoring the fuming Dr. Brendon beside us.
“No!” Dr. Brendon shouts like a toddler about to have a toy taken away from them, his hands crossed against his chest.
To try to diffuse the situation and keep peace a priority I offer up, “I already made plans with him, but I am able to meet you for dinner this weekend?”
Everett’s facial expression falls into a scowl.
“No. Tomorrow,” he demands. Now I’m even more irritated.
Dr. Brendon interjects, “Clearly she wants to go to dinner with me and only feels obligated to go to dinner with you.” Everett’s eyes flash toward Dr. Brendon and I can only imagine the various scenarios he has just imagined, of violently preventing Dr. Brendon from speaking.
His eyes gaze upon me again. “I have a work function I must attend this weekend.” As he explains, longing and sorrow fill his eyes, as if he is begging me not to go to dinner with Dr.Brendon.
I cock my head to the side as I hear Dr. Brendon sneer, “Well then. Clearly she isn’t a priority foryou.”
Everett slowly turns to stare at him. “Don’t put your fucking hands on her,” he demands, his nostrils flaring as he turns to leave the hospital wing. With each long stride he takes, my heart pulls toward him as if tethered by rope. I don’t want him to leave.
Then Dr. Brendon shouts in Everett’s direction, “Only if she asks!”
Other staff within the hallway cease what they are doing to turn and look at Dr. Brendon and me, then back at an Everett as he storms out of the building.
I shake my head with displeasure as I make an excuse to leave Dr. Brendon and finish my shift.
My heart pounds within my chest as I get dressed for dinner with Dr. Brendon. I clearly have no idea what I’m doing.
What do I even speak about during dinner? Work?
