Page 96 of Doctorshipped
“About us.”
“Us.”
“Yeah. Us.” He smiles and brushes a gentle touch across my cheek with his palm, smoothing my hair back as he goes. “But we need to settle into this and think about how to tell her. Personally, I think she’ll be thrilled.”
“You do?” I ask, unable to hide my nervousness.
I couldn’t bear to break Fiona’s heart, and it would kill me if Fiona didn’t want me and Grant to be together. But we haven’t made any promises to one another. We only kissed.
Telling her will be complicated. What if we fizzle, or something breaks us apart? Are we even together? It seems like Grant’s saying we are, but we don’t have the time and this isn’t the place to get into all those particulars. I shut down that line of thinking. We’ve got today and Fiona’s still oblivious to anything romantic between me and Grant.
“We need to be responsible,” Grant says. “I assumed I’d never date again. And she’s still under that impression. Women can be possessive of men like me, you know. That includes eleven-year old girls who think I hung the moon.”
“It’s your irresistible charm and charisma,” I tease. “Probably your perpetually positive outlook too.”
“Definitely, my sunshiney disposition helps. I think it’s also the rugged good looks.”
“And the abs.”
“Oh, you like those, do you?”
“I’m a fan.”
Grant smiles. It should be criminal to look that fiercely handsome from a mere smile, but he carries it off without getting arrested.
We both understand the seriousness of this topic, but I desperately need to lighten the mood before I put a giant rain cloud over one of the best experiences of my life.
Fiona’s heart comes first. It’s a fact that doesn’t need to be said out loud. Either one of us would take a bullet for her. To think I only met her around two months ago. Now she feels so much like she’s mine to cherish and protect—regardless of what comes to pass between me and her father.
“We’d better head over to the barbecue,” I say.
“Don’t forget the water fight.” Grant says with a wag of his eyebrows.
“Does this mean I get to see you shirtless again?”
“In due time.” He gives me a mischievous look that holds promise. “But not under these conditions.”
I fake a pout, popping out my lower lip. Grant glances down at my mouth, turns his head to look around us, and when he’s determined the coast is clear, he pulls me in for another kiss. It’s not as scorching as the first, but it’s somehow sweeter, more solidifying. And it’s still delicious, sending chills through my body and making my skin hum. He pulls back and smiles down at me.
“Okay. Ready to face the people?”
“I am. I love facing people.”
“Oh yeah. Me too. Love it,” Grant says with a half smile and a near roll of his eyes.
I resist the urge to interlace our fingers. I want to hold his hand and walk over together. I feel like screaming and jumping around and telling everyone we kissed. I would also love to sneak off somewhere and kiss him for hours on end.
Instead, I smooth my hands down my pants as I stand. Then I casually stroll over to the town barbecue, keeping a friendly distance between me and Grant, while trying to subdue the smile that fills my face.
We separate once we’re close to the crowd. Grant seeks out his dad and Fiona, and I walk toward my friends and their husbands.
“Where’ve you been?” Shannon asks.
“On the bleachers.”
She looks back to the spot I want to memorialize across the field. I think a statue should be erected on that particular bench. Maybe a bronze of a couple kissing, and a plaque underneath that simply reads,In this spot, a woman’s life and all her carefully-laid plans were inextricably altered by one kiss from the right man.
“Why the dreamy look?” Shannon asks.
