Page 7 of Man Glitter
“You realize you’re hurting Chester’s ears too, right?” I took a step into his bedroom.
Charlie smiled, and I had to admit, just-woken-up-and-hair-all-a-mess Charlie was a sight to behold. “Chester loves my singing voice. He whines when I sing, like he’s trying to sing along.”
I snorted. “Or maybe he whines because you’re hurting his ears.”
Charlie batted away my comment by swiping his good hand through the air. “I need some pants.”
“Yeah, I’ll say,” I grumbled.
“What’s that?” he asked as he sat up in bed and ran a hand through his hair.
I snatched a rumpled pair of jeans off the chair in his room and threw them at him. “You need a haircut too. And a shower.”
Charlie lifted an eyebrow, an impish gleam in his pure blue eyes. “Wanna scrub my back, nurse?”
I very much wanted to scrub his back—amongst other things. I sucked in a breath and shut down that thought, but not before my lady parts got excited, thinking they might see an end to the dry spell we were in.
“I’m a doctor, not a nurse,” I snapped.
Charlie stood, putting one foot and then the other in his jeans. He tugged them up his incredible legs an inch at a time, only having one hand to use. With an eye roll, I stepped forward and helped him pull them up all the way to his belly button. He yelped and pulled them down a bit, at least until I could see the two veins that ran down his lean abdominal region. Moving quickly, I buttoned up his pants and fumbled for the zipper.
“Hey, easy there, Doc.” He lurched back.
“Well, you can’t leave your fly open all day.”
“I beg to differ, but if you insist on feeling me up and then zippering me, make sure you take some care. Wouldn’t want stitches down there too.”
My face heated, and I hated him for making me blush. I dealt with semi-naked patients all day, every day, so why did this particular one have me riled up? I zipped up his jeans and took a huge step back, unable to look him in the eye. “How about some breakfast and then I’ll leave you to your day?”
“Do you make a good pancake, Doc?” Charlie’s stomach let out a rumble, drawing my eyes to his washboard abs. Again.
“I don’t have time for pancakes.” I spun and marched out the door. “And put a shirt on, would you?” I called over my shoulder.
His kitchen cabinets weren’t bare, but they were close. I found a pan, turning on the stove and twisting to the refrigerator to find eggs, bread, and butter. Perfect. I’d make a quick breakfast and then get out of there to cool off and get back to putting the finishing touches on my business plan.
“So where were you an ER doctor?”
I fumbled an egg, nearly dropping it on the floor. I hadn’t even heard Charlie come into the kitchen. Chester trotted in and sat next to me, probably waiting for me to drop some crumbs. If he didn’t watch it, he’d get a raw egg instead. I kept my back to Charlie and got busy making breakfast.
“San Francisco. Did my residency there and stayed on.”
“Hmm.” The grumble could have meant a dozen things. I didn’t care about any of them. I was only here to make up for injuring Charlie. Making friends wasn’t a priority.
“Did you enjoy it?”
I nodded, flipping the eggs with the one and only spatula in the drawer next to the stove. “I did. It was hectic, and the hours were crazy, but I had that sense of a job well done when I went home for the day.”
“Why are you here in Auburn Hill then? We don’t have an ER and I’m sure any urgent care you build won’t be as thrilling as a big city emergency room.”
The man was nuts, but astute. He was right. I wasn’t looking to recreate the adrenaline rollercoaster I had in San Francisco. I needed something calmer. Still high-level medicine, but without the dose of panic. Fact was, I’d hit a wall in the city. I’d frozen when I needed to be reacting quickly with a level head. I could pinpoint the exact time it all changed, and I went from being a top rate doctor to a panicked worrier who was only in the way. Not that I had any intention of sharing that with Charlie or anyone else. I’d moved to a new town for a reason, after all.
“There comes a point in a woman’s life when she wants something a little more stable. A bit less hectic,” I answered vaguely, sliding the eggs onto two plates.
“Why aren’t you married?”
I nearly choked and shot him a look of disbelief over my shoulder. Ignoring the way he looked lounging over the tiny breakfast bar without a shirt, I had that strange mix of lust and disgust again. What was it with this man eliciting seemingly opposite feelings at the exact same time? It was like a special talent that no one appreciated.
I grabbed the toast out of the toaster and spread the butter. “I didn’t realize getting married was something I needed to check off my list. Besides, I’m only thirty-two. I have plenty of time should I decide that’s what I want to do. Why aren’tyoumarried?”
