Page 52 of Doc Showmance
“Doubt you have to look very hard. If your day was anything like mine you probably had at least three offers. Hell, half the staff swoons when you speak.”
“Only three offers? I’m disappointed. I expected you’d have at least five men wanting a date after that episode and at least one offer of marriage.”
“It’s annoying to be trying to talk serious about a pet’s problem and what I need to do to diagnose the cause, but the guy’s too focused on asking me out to pay attention. I had one dude whose dog didn’t even have a legit issue. He wanted to discuss why his dog got stressed in the car. Hello? That’s not worthy of an ER visit. Go to your regular vet.”
“Give him a break. He fell in love with the hot vet on TV.” I was annoyed other men thought they could hit on her.
“He doesn’t know me. Am I not enough of a bitch on TV? Do I need to be worse?”
“Some men like being manhandled by a beautiful, strong woman.”
“Like you, it seems.”
“I don’t let you get away with that crap. Not many men other than me can handle you, Amber. You’re a lot, you know.” I wiped a small bit of chocolate off her lip and licked it off my finger.
Her eyes widened, and she looked about to burst into laughter. “Did you just wipe chocolate off my face and eat it?”
“Sure did.” No shame I’d done it. “Got a problem with it?”
“You did wash your hands after you helped that tortoise’s constipation?”
“Keeping tabs on me at work, were you?” I grinned. “I like that you care what I’m doing.”
“You think highly of yourself.”
“You like me.”
“I never said that.”
“You blushed. Can’t say I’ve seen you blush before. You’re thinking about my big dick, aren’t you?”
“Good Lord.” She rolled her eyes.
A huge gust of wind kicked up. She shuddered. We had to get to the purpose of this “date.” I leaned in and whispered into her ear so the camera couldn’t pick it up. “We need to get down to business. I’ll ask about the holiday, and you say you have no plans, okay?”
She didn’t make a nod or any sort of confirmation.
“Thanksgiving is next week. You have plans?” I articulated carefully out loud.
“Nah. No big plans.”
“You doing anything?”
“Probably not.”
“Come with me, then. I have to go home to see my parents. My dad’s having some sort of surgery done the week after and won’t give me details. He’s blackmailing me into going home for the holiday as the only way he’ll tell me what’s going on.”
“Seriously? I’m sorry your father is having surgery.”
“He’s an asshole. We don’t get along, but I won’t lie. I’m worried.”
“Are you asking me to be your date to your family’s Thanksgiving dinner?”
“I think I am. Yes.”
“Is it that bad that you need me for moral support?”
My God, she never made anything easy. I squeezed her shoulder as if to say, come on, agree to it so we can get out of this wind. “Amber, will you please go with me?”
