Page 71 of Just (Fake) Married
Damn right I’d left without coffee. That whole shower scene with his sexy, naked chest and water dripping all over his body left me completely flustered. And being flustered around this man, especially after our wedding night, was dangerous.
Which is exactly why I’d been avoiding him.
I’d sprinted from the lodge this morning. So fast, I’d almost forgotten Bruce.
“Amity always has coffee for me if I need it,” I told him, trying not to think about how it was sweet he’d been worried about my caffeine status.
“Good to know. Anyway, my quest led me to Tag, who you should know, only offered up your number for a bribe.”
“What bribe?” I asked, curious despite myself.
“I had to agree to give the ranch hands physicals.”
“You’re taking patients?”
“I am a doctor,” he reminded me.
“No, you’re a surgeon.”
“Yeah, well, not today. I’m taking blood pressures and fixing some gnarly ingrown toenails.”
“Sounds serious,” I said. “And gross.”
“Not too serious. Mostly just neglect and hard-living,” he said. “I swear, if I could just get them to drink some goddamn water, they’d feel better. Half of them are severely dehydrated. And the hemorrhoids-”
“Okay, okay. TMI.”
His warm chuckle travelled down the line. “There’re some worrying blood pressures and some moles I don’t love. But mostly, it’s easy. Kinda nice, actually.”
“Ingrown toenails are nice?”
“Taking care of people is nice,” he said. “You know, when they’re awake.”
I laughed and could hear his answering chuckle. A hard ping hit my chest, reminding me that this wasn’t the Ethan I’d known as a high school asshole. This was a grown man with a life, and according to Carter, a savior complex.
Taking care of stubborn ranch hands seemed very much in his wheelhouse.
“Is this what you meant?” I asked him. “About us needing to talk more?”
“Actually, I was thinking about doing that in public. Where people might see us.”
Right, I thought. Because this was all a show. I needed that constant reminder, or I might think that it was nice to chat on the phone with my doctor husband who was taking a break between seeing his patients.
“So you agree? Harmony?”
I blinked, having lost the thread of the conversation. “With what?”
“A date. Tonight. You and me.”
Shit.
“What did you have in mind?” I asked. For some reason, feeling a little nervous.
“Leave it to me. I’ll pick you up at the store after closing.”
Great. Just what I needed. A real date with my fake husband.
The orgasm whisperer with the six-pack abs.
