Page 18 of Motivating Mira
His question knocked me out of my head. Particularly the tone of said question.
“I…” I paused, took a breath, and reminded myself that outside of Rawhide Ranch, I wasn’t accountable to anyone but myself. But then I remembered that Dr. Lake’s job was to worry about people, and care for them, and that maybe I needed to stop being such a self-obsessed jerk.
“I was too tired to drive but too wired to sleep. I’m behind on an assignment because I forgot my laptop today, but I’m not behind on my reading. I get plenty of that done while my mom naps.” I sighed. “I was trying to distract myself because every time I close my eyes…” I couldn’t finish my sentence without crying and capable adult women didn’t bawl like little girls in front of doctors, so I let my sentence trail off. How bonkers was I? One minute I was horny and imagining Dr. Hotstuff doingdirty things to me, the next minute I was Miss Independent, and then thirty seconds after that, I was almost sobbing my eyes out.
God, I needed a good night’s sleep.
“I’ve seen too many patients in the emergency department because of accidents caused by people falling asleep at the wheel. You did the right thing.” His expression softened. “Come on, let me take you to an all-night coffee shop, get you properly fed, caffeinated, and on your way safely.”
“You must be exhausted after your shift. I can’t impose.” A battle of excitement and danger broke out inside me. I wanted nothing more than to spend more time with him, but I knew exactly how dangerous that was.
“You’re not imposing, and I’m insisting. I’m not so great at turning my brain off either.”
His expression said, argue and you’ll find out how my hand feels on your bare ass, but of course that was just a mixture of my imagination and memories… and desire but I couldn’t let myself go there or I’d be lost.
Twenty minutes later we were sitting in a twenty-four-hour cafe drinking coffee that was surprisingly fresh and eating donuts that weren’t, while I studied everything about his handsome face.
“So, what are you studying?”
You.
I blinked. Could I say his incredibly adorable but equally sexy cleft chin and square jaw without seeming creepy?
“In university,” he prompted, and I blinked again, shaking my head to clear my mind of dirty thoughts. “Art?”
"I’m a few months away from getting a degree in medical health management.”
His brow rose. “Smart girl. What about your painting?”
I shrug. “No security in being an artist.”
“Your mother may not tell you, but she brags about you. She’s told us all about your paintings. Sometimes parents push so much they forget to acknowledge when they’ve pushed enough.” He shrugs, giving me a knowing smile. “And, honey, if no one ever pursued the arts, the world would be a pretty dull place.”
Ignoring the way my heart wiggled in my chest every time he called me honey, I shrugged. It was just to acknowledge his words though, because my mother picked the degree and what if I hated it or worse failed at it?
“If you remember, I have some of those overeager pushy parents too.”
I bit my lip, reminded of the times between scenes when we’d spoken about our lives. “I remember,” I whispered. His parents, especially his father, were awful. Though Wes had never gone deep into the details, when he’d mentioned his brother had been badly injured in a car accident, it became apparent to me that it hadn’t been his parents who’d taken care of him. It had been Wes. His brother, a paraplegic with severe mental disabilities, died when Wes was in high school, but until he died, my guess was that Wes had done everything for him.
“They haven’t changed.” His eyes, a warm light brown, skimmed my face, making my heart flutter.
“Somehow I doubt you’re still fighting for their approval though.”
“Ha!” He leaned back in his chair and gathered a telling breath. “You’d be surprised.”
“You’re a full-fledged doctor, what more could they want? Every parent wants a doctor or lawyer in the family. You’d be my mother’s wet dream,” I said, and then blushed, because he was currentlymywet dream.
He chuckled and it was deep and sexy. “Except when you come from a family of brain surgeons, remember?” He laughedand the sound tickled me in places not meant to be tickled by a laugh alone.
“My father has since been upgraded from one of the top ten neurosurgeons in North America, to one of the top three in the world. And me? I’m an ER doc.”
I blinked, not understanding and his mouth curved up on one side.
“I may as well be bussing tables at the country club as far as he’s concerned.” Wes’s crooked grin straightened. “Acceptable specialties were cardio thoracic surgery, neurosurgery, or trauma surgery, as long as I ranked top five within ten years.” He shook his head. “Nowhere on the list was Emergency Medicine Specialist. When I got offered a position at the only Level One trauma center in Canada, and he finally seemed a little less unimpressed, I turned it down and he stopped speaking to me. So now I’m living in Butte, Montana, working in a small city emergency department.” He chuckled, but I read some sadness hidden in it. “It’s like I’ve been demoted to toilet scrubber at the 7-Eleven in his eyes now, and that’s grounds for disowning me.”
I frowned. “Ouch.” I don’t know what prompted me to do it, but I reached across the table and took his hand. An instant zing of heat shot up my arm. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. And I wouldn’t let just any toilet scrubber look after my mom, you know.”
His eyes flicked to mine and he barked a laugh.
