Page 3 of Doctor’s Orders

He wasright there.I saw him. Iknowit was Wes.

I’m going to find him. I’m not letting him get away this time.

Fishing out one of the twenties Lana gave me, I toss it onto the table and start scooting from the booth.

“Leaving so soon?”

The hair on the back of my neck rises.I know that voice.

A hand brushes my hair from the back of my neck and plants a kiss across my skin. “You look radiant tonight, Lacy.”

So many questions run through my mind, but before I have a chance to voice any of them, Wes presses his nose into the curve of my neck and breathes deep, sending chills down my spine.

“Let’s play a game. Can you guess what it’s called?”

When I don’t answer, he chuckles. “It’s one of my favorites.You know it.”

“Doctor’s orders,” I say automatically, licking my lips.

“Good girl.”

3

Wes

When people watch romance movies, the guy who gets the girl is always clean-cut. A family man. A respectable job. Stable income. A clean record, white picket fence house, cares for his parents, respects the hell out of his woman.

Those are the men everyone expects to be their Prince Charming.

To outsiders, I look like that man. Stable job - a doctor.Check.Psychiatry, sure, but still degreed and well respected. White picket fence? Eh, the fence is painted black, but it still houses a decent sized back yard that kids or a dog would love to run around.Check.Clean record and parents who cherish him?

Well, a man can’t be perfect. There had to be some kind of flaw - a chink in the armor, if you will.

It’s too bad that mine isn’t just a small nick. It’s a crack that runs so deep, it still bleeds. And before the night is over, I’ll run red all over Lacy and taint her just like me.

“What are you doing here?”

“That’s not how the game is played. I get to ask the questions.” I hate to leave her side for even for a moment, but I need to see her face for this. With one last caress across the back of her neck, I move to the other side of the booth and slide in across from her. Stretching my legs out, I lock them around hers to keep her in place.

“Are you having a good night so far?”

I’ve been watching her since she left her house two hours ago. I know she tried to go to the movies, changed her mind once she got there, and ended up here.At a bar.There’s nothing wrong with that, but the thought of anyone looking at my woman - or worse,herlooking atthem- makes my skin itch.

Not only do I know that she came here on a whim, but I also know from our many hours of therapy together that she used to go to bars almost every night before she had her son. At the time, she was enrolled at a four year university not too far from here, majoring in fine arts — photography, specifically, although I don’t think she completed many classes aside from her core academics. She met a guy in a band, took the photos for their website, and ended up in bed with one of them. Then she was in bed with all of them until they began touring, and she never heard from them again.

She hasn’t told me about her son’s father yet, and I’m not sure that she will until I ask.

He could have been one of those band members. He could be anyone, really, and it won’t change a thing. Beck’s parentage doesn’t matter to me beyond his relation to his mother. He’s Lacy’s son. Therefore, he’salsomine.

Lacy needs a husband. Beck needs a father. I can fulfill both roles and make them both happy.

“I think so,” Lacy answers, stealing me from my thoughts. Her smile is soft,cute, and warmth spreads through my veins.

That’s right. I want all of her smiles to be for me.

“Good. That’s very good, Lacy.”

Her smile grows, and I find myself smiling back. “You don’t seem surprised to see me tonight.”

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