The Best Medicine: A Standalone Romantic Comedy

by Kimberly Fox

  “What?”

  Christopher pulls a stack of printed papers from his bag. “I was doing some research on your doctor,” he says. “She was sued by a patient in New York for negligence. We can do the same thing.”

  “Negligence?” I say, staring at him with disbelief. I wish I was back to my full strength so I could put him through a wall. “Dr. Mendes has been great.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he says trying to shove the papers into my hands. I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him instead. “She’s already been tagged as a negligent doctor. We can sue for a million and settle for your hospital bill.”

  “And what happens to her?” I ask as heat flushes through my body. This guy might be one of my oldest friends, but that doesn’t mean I won’t knock him out.

  He shrugs. “She’s a doctor. She’ll be fine. Just look at the papers. I talked to a lawyer and everything.”

  “Put those back in the bag,” I say slowly, enunciating every word carefully so he doesn’t misunderstand me. “That is not an option.”

  He sighs as his shoulders droop down. “But—”

  “Drop it,” I say, glaring at him with such intensity that he doesn’t say another word.

  I’m still shaking my head as he shoves the papers back into his bag. He stays for a few awkward minutes and then thankfully leaves.

  There’s no way I would do that to Madison. I’d rather sleep under a highway overpass for the rest of my life, which may be a possibility if I don’t heal up by the time Moxie rolls around.

  But it does make me curious as to what happened in New York. Madison was sued? For negligence?

  She’s so intelligent and is extremely professional. I can’t imagine her doing anything that is sue-worthy.

  The more I think about her, the more I get excited about our date. I only have ten minutes with her, which means I have to be mobile for tonight. I can’t waste any time limping down the hallways.

  With a grunt, I swing my legs off the bed and struggle to get up. Time to stake out the hospital. My date is in a few hours, and I have to be ready. It’s not every day that I get to go out with a smart, talented girl like Madison. I really want it to go well.

  I grit my teeth as I force my heavy legs to walk to the door. It doesn’t take long before they’re nice and loose, although my back is killing me with an incessant throbbing that doesn’t seem to be going away.

  Yeah. That’s what happens when you fly three stories into the air and land directly on it.

  I’m chuckling to myself as I slip into the hallway and walk down the hall.

  “Hey!” my neighbor calls out when I pass his open door. “You’re Shane Winters!”

  I turn and see a smiling old man lying in a hospital bed. I like this guy already.

  “You like motocross?” I ask, stepping into the room.

  “Oh, yeah,” he says with a nod. “Big fan. I saw you win second place at the EXXXtreme Motocross Championship last year. I thought you should have finished in first.”

  Now I really like this guy!

  “We agree on something,” I say with a laugh. I walk over to his bed and hold out my hand. “Shane Winters, obviously.”

  “Walter Thatcher,” he says, shaking my hand. “Didn’t this year’s EXXXtreme Motocross Championship just pass?”

  I nod.

  “How did you do?” he asks.

  I look down at my hospital gown and grin. “How do you think?”

  He laughs. “That bad, huh?”

  “That bad.” I tell him all about my failed Kamikaze Twister, and his face winces when I get to the landing.

  “You’ll get ‘em next year.”

  I pull up a chair and sit beside him. “What are you in here for? Dirt bike accident too?”

  “I wish,” he says with a laugh. “Those days are long gone. I don’t know what I have. The doctors are having trouble diagnosing me.”

  “You with Dr. Mendes?”

  He nods. “She’s the best. I’ve been to about a dozen doctors who all ran a few tests and then sent me home, saying it’s all in my head. But Dr. Mendes is determined to figure it out. She’s a good one.”

  She’s a good one all right. And I have a date with her.

  We talk some more, and he tells me about his daughter getting married next week and a bit about his job. He’s the head marketing manager of Drive Computers—a new computer company based in Seattle.

  I’m about to ask him for a job application when my sexy doctor walks in giving me the evil eye.

  “Mr. Winters,” she says, crossing her arms over her perky breasts as she glares at me. “I don’t recall giving you permission to leave your room. Am I going to have to handcuff you to the bed?”

  I say goodbye to Walter as I stand up. She’s all fire and brimstone in her eyes, but I’ve gotten under her skin. She wouldn’t be reacting this strongly if she didn’t like me.

  “Good idea,” I whisper as I walk by her. “Bring those handcuffs to our date tonight.”

  She spins on her heels and glares at me, but her cheeks are turning red. Tonight is definitely going to be fun.

  “Out,” she says, pointing at the door. “No more walking around. You have to conserve your energy.”

  “Don’t worry,” I whisper to her as she helps me out the door. “I’ll have lots of energy for tonight.”

  “Maybe I should prescribe you a sedative,” she says with a grin. “I don’t want you too excited.”

  “You say that now,” I say as she grabs the handle of the door, about to close it in my face. “I think you’ll be singing a different tune later.”

  “I highly doubt it.”

  “Eleven o’clock,” I say with a grin as she swings the door closed. “Don’t be late.”

  I see her cheeks flush a bright red as the door slams shut.

  Wow. She’s the ultimate package. Hot enough to stop a heart and smart enough to restart it.

  And tonight, she’s all mine.

  For ten minutes.

  Chapter 8

  Madison

  My shift ended at ten-thirty, but I didn’t want Shane to know that. He still thinks I’m just taking a ten-minute break.

  I take a shower in the employee locker room and fix up my hair and makeup. If I knew I was going on a date with my hot patient, I would have brought some sexier clothes to change into.

  But I still look pretty good—tight jeans with a button-up blue shirt that makes my eyes pop. Shane still hasn’t seen me with my hair done up, and regardless, I’m still going to be better dressed than him. He’s wearing an old hospital gown to our date.

  I’m actually excited. It’s been way too long since my last date, and even though this is just a ten-minute cup of coffee, I can’t stop smiling as I put on my mascara.

  My pulse is speeding up, and there’s a lightness in my chest as I stand back and check myself out in the mirror.

  “What are you doing?” I mutter to myself when I see my reflection. I shouldn’t be putting on makeup for a patient. I shouldn’t be getting excited about someone who’s so off limits.

  Not only is he undateable because he’s a patient, he’s also all wrong for me because we’re so different. I’m an ambitious doctor who has to stay focused if I want to become the medical chief of staff like I’ve always dreamed of, and he’s a reckless, impulsive, playboy motocross driver who doesn’t think twice about flying off a ramp the size of a small mountain and flying through the air like a powerless superhero.

  We couldn’t be more different.

  But I can’t deny any longer that I’m attracted to him. My body is always quick to remind me with red cheeks, wet panties, and breathless lungs every time I’m in his presence. It’s been so long since I’ve gotten any action. So, of course, my body is reacting that way.

  I stand back to check myself out, and the excitement I had a minute ago just fades away as I stare at my reflection. “You know the bad stuff that can happen when you date a patient,” I whisper to myself. �
��Do you want to go through that again?”

  Maybe Anabelle was right, and it won’t be like Gavin. But then, do I really want to take the chance to find out?

  My shoulders slump forward as I grab my purse off the counter. I’ll go cancel on him. I’ll tell him that it’s not a good idea.

  And it’s not.

  Personal lives don’t belong in these halls.

  I’m feeling really shitty when I walk in at eleven o’clock on the nose and see him standing in the middle of his room.

  “Oh, my God,” I gasp. He’s looking gorgeous—freshly shaven with his hair gelled and combed to the side. His hospital gown is tied securely around his muscular body like it was made for him. It’s fitted to his big arms and massive chest, and I have to admit that it looks really, really sexy.

  He steps forward and hands me a single long-stemmed red rose.

  “You look beautiful,” he says, stepping back to look me up and down. The excitement that was lost comes flooding back as his eyes sparkle on their way back up to mine.

  Maybe just one date. I don’t want to let the poor guy down. He’s been through so much.

  “Thank you,” I say, feeling the familiar glow in my cheeks that always comes when he’s around. “You look pretty good yourself. I didn’t realize we had fitted gowns at the hospital.”

  He smiles as he looks down at his arm. The fabric is tight around his bicep, and I swallow hard when I look at his hot tattoos trailing down his thick forearm.

  “One of the nurses helped me out with some safety pins,” he says with a grin.

  I almost ask who so that I can get her a raise, but my voice catches in my throat instead.

  “Where did you get the flower?” I ask, smelling it. “You better not have left the hospital.”

  He smiles. “Mrs. Puzo next door,” he says with a laugh. “It cost me two servings of applesauce.”

  This guy is all charm when he wants to be. The flower was a nice touch, but I can’t be seen walking around the hospital with a patient and a rose, so I place it on the counter and turn back to him. “Your ten minutes starts now.”

  He smiles as he holds out his muscular arm for me to take. “Then we better get started.”

  A rush of adrenaline flows through me as I slide my arm around his. The side of my breast rests against his bicep, but for some reason, I don’t move it.

  “One coffee,” I remind him. “That’s all you get.”

  “We’ll see,” he says, smirking to himself. “I have big plans.”

  “What do you have planned?” I ask as we step into the empty hallway. “A five-course meal? A show? Dancing?”

  “You’re just going to have to wait and see,” he says as he shuffles down the hallway. “But it’s going to be good.”

  “Don’t worry, my expectations aren’t high,” I say with a laugh as I look down at his feet. “They rarely are when my date shows up in slippers.”

  He looks down at me with his sexy grin, squeezing my arm with his. “Don’t judge a foot by its cover. These are my fancy slippers, which means I really like you.”

  “Lucky me,” I whisper with my heart pounding as we arrive at the elevators.

  He reaches forward to press the button, and my eyes roam over his muscular back, hoping to catch another glimpse of his nice ass, but the not-so-helpful nurse pinned the open back of his gown closed.

  It’s late in the hospital, and the lights are dimmed low in the empty hallways. The patients are sleeping in the dark rooms, and the nurses are tiptoeing around, whispering in hushed voices.

  I love this time in the hospital when the chaos has died down and I can finally hear myself think. It feels strange to be sharing it with Shane, but I kind of like it.

  “After you,” he says, motioning to the elevator doors after they bing open. He slides his hand onto my lower back and guides me inside the empty elevator like a perfect gentleman. A perfect gentleman in slippers.

  I step in and lean my back against the railing on the stainless-steel wall as I watch him enter. His intoxicating smell fills the small elevator, and I have to grab the railing behind me and hold on tightly so I don’t run over and start sniffing him like I’m a crazed puppy. He’s the best smelling patient I’ve ever had, but that’s not saying too much.

  “So, how’s your back feeling?” I ask as he hits the button for the second floor.

  “Oh, no,” he says as he turns to me. “This is a date, not an examination. Save the patient/doctor questions for tomorrow.”

  It’s been so long since I’ve been on a date that I don’t even remember what people talk about on dates. TV? Movies? I’ve been working so much that I haven’t seen either for a while.

  Maybe sports? Guys love sports.

  “Did you see the latest football game?” I ask, resisting the urge to slap my forehead right after I say it.

  “No,” he says, shaking his head. “Did we win?”

  I gulp. “I don’t know,” I mutter. “I didn’t see it either.”

  Maybe the weather? You can’t go wrong with the weather, can you?

  “Beautiful day today,” I say, wanting to die. “It’s been so nice out lately, hasn’t it?”

  He laughs playfully at me. “I don’t know,” he says with a grin. “I’ve been kind of locked up, remember?”

  Luckily, the elevator doors bing open, saving me from my horrid attempt at small talk.

  He steps into the doorway, holding the elevator open with his muscular arm extended. He turns to me and smiles so beautifully that I squeeze the railing behind me a little tighter in case my knees buckle. “You seem nervous,” he says softly.

  “I’m not nervous,” I lie. I’m definitely nervous. My heart is racing, and my palms are sweating. For starters, I shouldn’t be doing this with a patient, but that’s not the main reason why the butterflies in my stomach are acting like they’re at a Metallica concert. This guy is gorgeous. Utterly gorgeous.

  But it’s not just his knee-weakening, mind-altering, rule-shattering good looks that are making me word vomit all over him. He’s fun to be around. The nurses all love him, and so do the patients. I’ve been mostly cold to him, but I know that once we cross that doctor/patient line, I’ll be hooked.

  He’s a pure alpha male with every word that he says and every sexy move that he makes. Ever since I saw videos of him being interviewed and flying around the motocross tracks on his dirt bike, I can’t stop thinking about him. I’ve always been so careful and safety oriented—as a doctor, I can’t help it—but he’s the complete opposite. There’s something so dangerously sexy about watching him take these insane risks while a huge crowd watches him and goes crazy. I don’t know why, but it gets my heart pumping every time I think about it.

  “Don’t be nervous,” he says as he holds my eyes with his. “I won’t bite unless you ask me to.”

  He drops his arm with a smile and holds his hand out for mine. “Come with me,” he says in a voice that’s irresistible. “I have to do something to repay you for saving my life.”

  “One coffee,” I say as I slide my hand into his. One really long, slow-sipping coffee.

  “I have a dinner planned for us too,” he says as we walk into the cafeteria. The lights are off except for the warm glow of the emergency lights by the exits. The security shutters are rolled down over all of the food, but we have access to the rows and rows of empty tables.

  The workers are long gone, as well as everybody else. There’s not a soul down here but us.

  “I think you’re a little late for dinner,” I say, glancing over my shoulder at the bars across the entrance to the food area.

  He shakes his head. “We’re eating cuisine from all around the world tonight.”

  “Oh, we are?” I say with a laugh. “And how are we going to do that?”

  “Come here,” he says with a grin, “and I’ll show you.”

  “This I have to see,” I answer as I follow him to the hallway. There are a half-dozen vending machines lined up ag
ainst the wall next to the bathrooms.

  Shane pulls a twenty-dollar bill out of his gown and slides it into the first machine. “First we’re going to be dining on Cape Cod’s finest cuisine—the best food that our east coast can offer.”

  He hits a button, and I laugh as the large coils start moving and a bag of Cape Cod chips drops down.

  “Next, we’re heading to beautiful Mexico where the delectable dishes will make your mouth water with an abundance of rich, spicy flavors.” He hits another button and a bag of Jalapeno Doritos comes tumbling down.

  “My mouth is watering already,” I say with a laugh.

  “Well, we’re not done yet,” he says, flashing me his straight white teeth. “After Mexico, our taste buds will be in heaven when we taste the heavenly flavors of France.”

  “France?”

  “Oui, ma cheri,” he says with a grin as he hits another button. A bag of French Onion flavored Sun Chips falls down, joining the other two bags.

  Shane takes his change, picks up the three bags of chips, and then hands them to me.

  “You definitely know how to spoil a date,” I say, watching him with wonder.

  “Wait until you see our next dish,” he says, moving on to the next vending machine. “Exotic. Flavorful. Delicious. Japan.”

  I scrunch my nose up when I see the soggy packages of sushi slowly turning around inside. I place a hand on his arm to stop him. “I love sushi,” I say with a shake of my head. “But not enough to eat it from a vending machine. And as your doctor, I forbid you to eat it.”

  “Skipping Japan,” he says with a laugh as he moves on to the next machine, the one with the chocolate bars.

  “For dessert, you’ll feel like you’re in the alps when you’re relishing the sweet savors of Switzerland.” He slides some change into the slot and then hits the button. The coils turn with a groan, and a Lindt chocolate bar falls down.

  “I can’t wait for that,” I say with a smile. I love chocolate.

  “Well, you’ll have to wait,” he says. “Because up next we’re headed to the cuisine capital of planet Earth: Ireland.” He pushes a button and a Clark bar falls down.