Page 15 of Wolf's Midlife Bite

Caution rippled through Watson’s eyes, but he pointed toward the door. “This really isn’t any of your business.”

“Considering I’m the person on the other end of this little problem, it’s very much my business.”

“This is all getting out of hand—”

“Yeah, that’s exactly my point,” Brody countered. “In dental school, was there a special class on how to be cruel to your staff and rude to your patients? Because I’m damn sure you aced it.”

Anger simmered under Dr. Watson’s stiff face, but Brody was sure he smelled fear mixed with it. “Robin, go to the lab. You, sir, need to get out of my office. You’re not welcome as a patient here anymore.”

“Trust me, that’s not a problem.” Brody looked down at Robin, saw the slight nod of her chin, and headed out to the waiting room. He passed a wide-eyed Maggie on the way, who had a hand pressed over her mouth. She might’ve been hiding her shock or her laughter; he wasn’t sure. He burst out into the waiting room, pissed that this had gone the way it had.

The young woman waiting in a chair near the water cooler looked up at him, and recognition sparked in her eyes. He knew people by their tattoos better than their faces, and he quickly spotted the recent piece on her calf. He couldn’t remember her name, but he definitely remembered her. She’d told him all about the baby raccoon she’d rescued after it fell down in the wall of her parents’ house and how she’d adopted it when the mother wouldn’t take it back. “Hey.”

“Hey. How are you?” Her eyes darted toward the back, realizing that she already knew things weren’t the best.

“Fine,” he lied easily. “How’s it healing up?”

The woman turned her leg so that he could see it better. “Pretty well, I think. I’m already getting lots of compliments on it.”

It looked fine to him, and he gave her a nod. “Great. Come and see me when you’re ready for the next one. And in the meantime, you might want to find a new dentist. This one’s a raging asshole.”

Maggie called out to the young woman. “The doctor’s ready to see you, miss.”

“Wish me luck,” the woman said to Brody as she stood and gathered her purse.

“You’ll need it.” Brody headed out the door, wondering how the hell he was going to tell Robin the truth.

8

Most of theshaking had stopped in Robin’s bones by the time she pulled up in front of the address Brody had given her. The walkway skirted the wide garage at the front and led to a heavy wooden door with a stained glass window perched at its top. A shadow moved behind it as she lifted her hand to knock, and it opened to reveal Brody. The frayed ends of his jeans brushed the tops of his bare feet. He was casual in a pocket tee, the drab green of it grabbing the color of his eyes.

“Hey. I’m glad you came.” He opened the door wider to let her in.

The day had been so busy that she hadn’t spent much time speculating what sort of a place Brody had. Now that she could see it, it was decidedly him. The warm gold on three walls of the living room picked up the hickory of the floor. An Eames chair relaxed just in front of the bay window and faced the fireplace, where the light would be best for using the pencils and sketchbook on the side table. Several canvases adorned the deep red accent wall behind the fireplace, most of which she figured were his work. A wide doorway led to the kitchen, the granite countertops dark against the honey-colored cabinets. The place was clean and minimal but warm and inviting, just like him.

“Me, too. I’d really like to talk to you about today.”

He twitched his shoulder. “Mind if we do it in the kitchen? I’ve got to finish up dinner.”

“So, you can cook?” Robin asked as she followed him. “I wasn’t sure if this would be another burger date, but only in a different venue.”

“I cook,” he said with a smile. “Is it that much of a surprise? Help yourself to anything you’d like in the fridge.”

Robin opened the stainless-steel door to find an assortment of cans. She grabbed a sparkling water, thinking about the horrible meals her ex had made. She was convinced he’d done it just so she’d never ask him to cook again. “Not everyone likes to spend time in the kitchen, despite how many people have started their own cooking shows on the internet these days.”

“The worst are the ones where you think it’s a regular cooking video, then you realize the person is wearing nothing but an apron. Kind of disappointing when you were only there for the recipe.”

Robin laughed, glad she hadn’t yet taken a sip of her water, and perched herself on a barstool at the island. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Brody took the lid off a small pot of rice and poked a fork down into it. “No, I think I’ve got everything taken care of. I should’ve asked if you were allergic to anything. We really don’t need two medical incidents in one day.”

“I’m glad you’re not being weird about this whole thing, and I really am sorry,” she began. Her mind had been occupied all afternoon with the myriad of ways she could make it up to him. “I must’ve been so distracted because nothing like that has ever happened to me before.”

He glanced at her as he poured oil into a wok and turned on the flame beneath it. “I told you there was no reason to apologize.”

“Most patients wouldn’t handle it the way you are.” She could just imagine what a fit Thaddeus Elmington or Christina Harding would’ve thrown if she’d told them they’d need to go for testing.

He tossed his hair. “I’m not like other guys.”

---