Page 23 of Doctor Daddy

“I did not. But we have a date on Wednesday, and I am so going to. It’s going to be a long few days before then.” I sighed. “I sent him a boob shot.”

“You did not. He hasn’t sent you a dick pic, has he?”

“Ew, now. He’s more sophisticated than that.”

“But you’re not above sending him your boobs?”

I pulled down the neckline of my shirt, exposing as much skin to her as I had to Mark. “I showed off about that much. Enough to be flirty without being nasty.”

“But you are going to get nasty, right?” she asked.

I stuck my tongue in my cheek and possibly blushed.

“Oh, you do have plans on stepping it up and getting nasty. What’s the plan?”

I scratched my head and tried to look nonchalant. “I thought I’d let a nip slip. Or put the phone kind of low and get a back shot in a thong. No full-frontal nudity. You always save that for in-person appreciation.”

The finer nuances of being naked were lost in pictures. I wanted to tease and drag it out. After all, he hadn’t seen me completely in just my skin yet. I knew I couldn’t wait to appreciate him in person. I was curious as to what he looked like, but that wasn’t something I wanted on my phone.

“That’s the truth. Don’t put it all out there. Especially when you don’t know if you can really trust him yet to not blast those pics all over.”

“Exactly. A single nipple isn’t going to identify me.”

11

MARK

Ithought I was going to have a nice leisurely afternoon to get ready for our evening date. But then the emergency call from the hospital came in. Stephanie Ross’s baby had decided it was time. Even though I was on-call for labor and delivery for the weekend, I didn’t have any patients who were due, and neither did my colleagues. I left the office early with grand plans. Now the Ross baby was coming, early or not, and I had to head back in. I quickly got myself ready and headed back to the hospital.

When I arrived at the hospital, the labor nurses were taking good care of Mrs. Ross. She was dilated and ready to push. The delivery of her healthy baby boy did not take that long. I was back in my car with plenty of time to get home and finish getting ready for Brooke. Unfortunately, I got stuck in traffic.

I hit the steering wheel. “Fuck.”

There shouldn’t have been traffic like this even during rush hour. It was at a complete standstill. I had expected to have enough time to prepare the grill, let the steaks come up to room temperature, and fix the rest of the dinner I had planned.

“Stuck in traffic. This is the worst rush hour. I might be late.” I texted Brooke. I snapped a quick picture of 285 and sent it to her. It looked more like a parking lot than a freeway. Thankfully, before I left for the hospital, I had let her know I had been called in for a delivery and would text her when I was leaving.

I hadn’t moved more than a few feet when the phone binged with a reply.

“NP.” No problem. Well, maybe not for Brooke, but definitely for me.

After about forty-five minutes, I had probably moved about two miles. I switched from satellite radio to a local station, maybe they could tell me what was going on. The traffic app on my phone only showed bad traffic with an accident in the area.

I checked the fuel gauge. At least that was in good shape, and I won’t run out of gas. How many poor fools stuck out here were running out of gas themselves, compounding the traffic problem?

The music ended and the announcer began talking.

“Tell me the information I need to know,” I demanded as if he could hear me.

“Weather and traffic next,” he finally said, and then immediately played a commercial.

“Arg,” I made random frustrated noises. I did not want to be sitting in my car.

The alarm on my phone rang like a doorbell. It was my ring bell camera. Someone was at the house.

I opened the alert and saw Brooke standing at my door.

“Hey, Brooke!”

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