“Shithole.”
“Do you like Stephanie?” I ask him softly. “I saw the way you watched her.”
“Fuck off.”
“Hey, I’m not judging. I mean, she’s not my type, but she’s a pretty girl.” I sigh and lean on the counter. “It’s been a shitty day, Bill.”
“Shitty day.”
“Yeah. Hey, I’m sorry about your owner.”
“Shitty day.”
“I bet that was a shitty day.” I rub my fingertips into my eye sockets. “Jesus, I’m holding a conversation with a bird.”
“It’s kind of cute.”
My hands fall, and I whirl at the sound of Joy’s voice. “Hey.”
She frowns when she sees my face. “What’s wrong?”
I glance around, but she shakes her head.
“I sent everyone except Becky, my all-night tech, home. I just need to check on my patient once more before I leave.”
She leads me back to where all of the animals are kept. On a table in the middle of the room is a small cat with stitches in its side.
“Nice stitch work.”
“Thanks,” she says with a wide smile. “She had some complications from being hit by a car last week, but she should be good to go now.”
Joy turns to her tech and rattles off a whole list of orders, her voice firm, hands steady.
Once we’re alone, Joy rewashes her hands, then leads me into her office where she collapses into her chair and takes a deep breath.
“Okay,” she says and reaches for her water bottle. “Spill it.”
“I’m suspended indefinitely,” I reply, and she chokes on her water. I hurry around the desk to pound her on the back as she sputters.
She wipes her hand over her mouth and then gapes up at me.
“What did you just say?”
“If I say it again, you have to promise not to choke.”
“This isn’t funny.” She frowns.
“You heard me,” I reply and drop into my seat across from her. “Remember that patient that died on my table a couple of months ago?”
“Of course.”
“His family is suing me and the hospital.”
Her jaw drops, and she’s still gaping at me.
“And while I’m under investigation, I can’t work. They’re paying me though, so there’s that.”
“So there’s that,” she echoes, nodding slowly. “No, fuck that. You didn’t do anything wrong, Jace.”
Her immediate and fierce loyalty is a balm to my bruised confidence.
“They know that, too,” I reply. “It’s all a formality. Honestly, if it had been my father on that table, I can’t say that I wouldn’t want to look into a wrongful death case.”
“It doesn’t bring him back,” she insists.
“No, but if there was malpractice, it could prevent it from happening again.”
“You’re defending the Walters,” she says incredulously.
“No, I’m not saying it’s right. I’m pissed as hell. But, in their shoes, I don’t know if I’d do anything differently.”
She blows out a breath and stares at me. Her brown hair is piled on top of her head. She shed her white coat after surgery, and she’s in baby blue scrubs.
For the first time since I met her, I wouldn’t say she’s pretty.
She’s fucking hot.
“What am I supposed to do with time off?” I ask, trying to distract myself from Joy and her sexy scrubs.
“You said you wanted to make some changes to your house. Now is a good time for that,” she suggests. “And you could learn to play the piano.”
I cock a brow. “The piano?”
“Sure. You have good hands. Might as well use them for something.”
“Now you have jokes. My career is almost over, and you have jokes.”
She giggles and shrugs one shoulder. My dick twitches.
“I have tomorrow off,” she offers. “I’ll hang out with you, and you can come up with a plan. I know this will drive you nuts.”
Because she knows me, inside and out.
“You’re not kidding,” I agree.
“I’ll make you dinner tonight,” she says as she stands to gather her things. “And if you’re really nice, you can sleep in my spare room.”
But I don’t want to sleep in her spare room. No, I want to sleep with her. Which means I have only one option here.
“Dinner will be great,” I reply with a grin and follow her out to the lobby. “I’ll go home, though. I have to clean some stuff up before you come over tomorrow.”
“Suit yourself,” she says with a shrug. She unlocks the front door to let us out. “Do you want tacos or lasagna?”
“Yes.”
She laughs as she waves at Bill. “Be good, Bill.”
“Fuck off.”
~Joy~
“I have chicken parm in the slow cooker,” I inform Jace as we walk into my house. “Sorry, no tacos or lasagna, but I made plenty.”
“You always make too much,” he says with a smile as he closes the door behind us. Before we can walk any farther, both Carl and Nancy come running to the door to greet us.
“You’ve added to your brood,” Jace says, squatting to pet Nancy, a sixty-pound, eight-month-old English Bulldog. “And this one is missing an eye.”
“Shh,” I admonish him as I lift my sweet kitty, Carl, into my arms and nuzzle his head. He purrs immediately, smiling up at me. “Don’t hurt her feelings.”
“What’s your name, sweet girl?” he asks the dog.
“Nancy,” I reply for her, set Carl on the couch, and watch as he happily jumps onto the floor, barely limping despite missing one of his front legs.
“Why do you always give them people names?”
“Because they deserve the dignity of a name,” I reply, leading him through the house to the kitchen. The house smells of tomato sauce and chicken, and it makes my stomach growl. “I mean, who wants to be called cupcake?”
“Not you, apparently.”
“Yeah, don’t ever call me cupcake.”
“So noted.” His grey eyes are full of humor, the emotion replacing the anguish I saw when he first arrived at my clinic. “Let’s not talk about the hospital tonight.”
“Why, whatever do you mean?” I ask, batting my eyelashes innocently. Jace grips my hair in his fist, pulls my head back, and smacks a loud kiss on my forehead.
“That’s why I love you. How long do you have in the kitchen?”
“Twenty minutes, tops. I just have to boil the pasta and add cheese to the chicken.”
“Great, that gives me plenty of time.”
He dashes back to the living room and starts gathering Nancy’s toys and throwing them into the box in the corner, but Nancy joins him and pulls them all out, one at a time as if Jace is playing a fun new game with her.
“Hey, I’m trying to clean up your mess,” he says, making me giggle.
“She’s pretty much a toddler,” I inform him and turn to pull pasta out of the pantry. “And you don’t have to clean my house.”
“I always do this,” he reminds me. “Why do you always have pants on your couch?”
I turn to watch him gather a pair of jeans off the arm of my sofa. “I’m not telling.”
“Well, now you have to tell me.”
“Sometimes, in the evening, I don’t want to wear my pants anymore, so I take them off and drape them on the couch and forget to take them upstairs with me later.”
He watches me with an expression that’s new for him over the past couple of months. But before I can say anything, he just chuckles and walks to the stairs leading to the second floor. I can hear him bustling about up there, and then my washing machine starts.
Score. I don’t have to do laundry later.
Since college, whenever Jace comes to my place to eat, he tidies up while I cook. He’s a neat freak. I’m not.
Let me clarify. My house is not dirty. I’m a doctor, and cleanliness is important. Not to me
ntion . . . ew. But I can be messy.
I think Jace feels useful, picking up after me. Or, he’s disgusted by my clutter. Which could be the case.
“You don’t have to do my laundry,” I say as he comes into the kitchen a few minutes later.
“It only takes a minute to throw a load in,” he says, immediately stacking the few dishes in my sink into the dishwasher. “Besides, I’m earning my keep.”
“Your mama raised you right.” I bump him with my hip, pushing him out of my way so I can reach for the pasta ladle to give the pot a stir. “You’re better at laundry than me anyway.”
“You’ll always be a better cook,” he says with a shrug and sets a clean mug in my cabinet. “We all have our strengths.”
“True that. Okay, this is about ready. Do you mind reaching for the plates?”
Moving around my kitchen with him in it is easier than I expect it to be, every single time. The man is big, in the best ways. When I first met him in college, he was tall but lanky, still growing into his manhood.
And man, has he grown into it.
He’s broad and firm, with muscles in all the right places. Last week, we were at his house, and he dribbled some coffee on his shirt, so he whipped it off before going to fetch another one, and I’m pretty sure my jaw hit the floor.
Because hello, abs aplenty. Like, he has enough for about three people.
It’s not fair.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” he asks, pulling me out of my ab-fog.
“I’m not staring at you,” I lie, taking the plate from him and dishing up his food, then trading him for an empty plate to do the same for myself. “Do you want extra parmesan?”
“Duh.” He reaches for the tub of shredded cheese and dumps it onto his pasta, then joins me at the table. Nancy immediately rests her chin on my thigh, waiting patiently for a handout.
“So, what do you want to do tomorrow?” I ask and take a bite of the chicken smothered in sauce and cheese, then let out a long moan of delight. “God, I’m hungry.”
I glance up to see him frown, his fork halfway to his mouth.
“Well? What do you want to do tomorrow?”
“Whatever you want,” he says, diving in for another bite.
“We could go browse through Pike’s Market. Or go to the Pop Culture Museum. I heard they have a Marvel exhibit. Oh! We could take Nancy to the new dog park over by your house.”
“Sure.”
“To which one?” I lower my fork and study him. He’s quiet, and he doesn’t look at me. Of course, he’s had a shit day.
“I’m fine with any of them, Joy. Honest.”
I take a bite of pasta, then whip my scrub top over my head, tossing it onto an empty chair. I’m left in my white cami. “Cooking always makes me hot.”
“I already put your laundry in.”
My gaze meets his, and I’m surprised to find a little frustration and something else that I haven’t been able to put a label on these past few weeks.
It can’t be lust. I’m the one who’s pined after Jace for years, not the other way around.
“It’s okay, I’ll do another load later.”
He shakes his head and finishes the food on his plate, then carries it to the kitchen, rinses it, and stacks it in the dishwasher.
I slip a small piece of chicken to Nancy and laugh when she resumes her position on my thigh. I’ve taught her manners but haven’t been able to break her of begging.
“Hey, I hate to eat and run, but I’m going to head out,” Jace says, reaching for his keys. “Thanks for dinner. It was excellent as always.”
“Okay.” I swallow and frown. “Well, since we didn’t decide on an activity for tomorrow, why don’t I just meet you at your place at ten and we’ll go from there.”
“See you then.” He shoots me a half-smile, waves over his shoulder, and walks out the door. I sit back in my chair, chewing my food, and reach down to pet Nancy on the head.
What in the world was that all about?
“Saturday,” my sister, Noel, says in my ear. I’m driving to Jace’s house, and Noel has called with an emergency.
“I’m on call this Saturday,” I reply.
“This is the semi-annual sale,” she says as if that trumps my animal clinic. “We have to go.”
“You can totally go,” I insist. “Noel, the only reason I go is so I can buy something I don’t need and get you more rewards points.”
“Exactly. It’s the last weekend for the sale, and we have to go.”
“No can do, sis. Sorry.”
She sighs heavily, making me smile. My sister is one year older, to the day, and my closest friend. We also couldn’t be more different.
“Why are you so good at adulting?” she asks, disappointment heavy in her voice. “And why can’t you have a regular job like the rest of us?”
“I’ve always been a bit different,” I murmur as I turn down Jace’s street. “You’ll go find some cool things.”
“But it won’t be as fun without you,” she says. “Let’s get together for dinner one night, then.”
“I can do that. Just text me.”
I cut the engine, end the call, and frown at the red convertible Mini Cooper in Jace’s driveway.
Shit.
Is this a booty call that hasn’t left yet? Did he forget that I was coming over this morning?
He didn’t sound particularly excited about hanging out with me today. Maybe he feels like I’m forcing him to go look at Captain America at the Pop Culture Museum.
“I’m so stupid.” I groan and lay my forehead against the steering wheel. It’s probably not a booty call. It’s just a person.
Jesus, why am I always overthinking everything? Always.
I reach for my bag, lock the car, and ring Jace’s doorbell.
“Hey, sugar,” Wyatt, Jace’s brother, says when he opens the door with a smile.
“Hi there,” I reply and walk right into his arms for a hug. Being best friends with Jace means that I’m close to his family, as well. “I’ve come to take Jace’s mind off of serious things for today.”
“Excellent,” he says with a grin.
“Where is he?”
“I’m here,” Jace says as he walks into the room, pulling a shirt over his head and giving me a peek at those lickable abs.
Damn.
I glance at Wyatt and connect the dots.
“Wait. Is that your car in the driveway?”
“Yep, I bought it for Amelia yesterday.”
I frown. “Did you at least know that Lia wanted that car first? Or did you spring it on her? Because women still want a say in what they drive.”
“She went with me.” He glares at me. “You always bust my balls, Joy Thompson.”
“It’s what I do and who I am, thank you for noticing.” I offer him a deep bow, making him laugh. “And I like the new car. It’s super cute.”
“She looks hot in it.” Wyatt wiggles his eyebrows. “And I need to go pick up my fiancée so we can go to the florist and finalize the flowers for the wedding.”
“How many days do you have left?”
“Six,” he says immediately. “And it can’t get here fast enough.”
“You guys are adorable.” I prop my hands on my hips and smile at him. “Aren’t they, Jace?”
“The cutest,” Jace says, smiling at his brother, who flips him the bird.
“On that note, I’m out of here.” Wyatt says goodbye and leaves me alone with Jace.
“Good morning,” I offer.
“’Morning. Do you need coffee?”
“Like I need air,” I reply, following him into his kitchen where he already has my favorite mug waiting for me. It says: Good morning. I see the assassins have failed.
“It never gets old,” I say with a chuckle as he pours the cream in, just the way I like it. “Thanks. Did you sleep at all?”
“A bit, in my office,” he says, sipping his own coffee. “I was reading through the record
s again. There’s just nothing there, Joy.”
“Because you didn’t do anything wrong.” I walk up beside him, mirroring the way he’s leaning back against the countertop, both of our arms folded, each of us drinking from our mugs. “The family is grieving, and sometimes the anger brings on something like this.”
“Have you ever been sued?”
“No, but I’ve been threatened with it,” I confess, and shrug when he stares down at me.
“Seriously?”
“Of course. When a pet dies unexpectedly, it’s like a family member has died for many people. It’s sad. But today, we’re going to have fun.”
“What did you decide on?”
“Well, first, I need to make sure that you want to do this. You didn’t seem so sure last evening.”
“I definitely want to.”
“Okay. We’re going skydiving.”
He freezes. “Uh—”
“Kidding.” I bump his hip with mine, making him laugh. “I know you hate heights.”
“You’ll pay for that.”
I smirk. “Sure, I will. You know what, why don’t we just head downtown and we’ll just make it up as we go?”
“Let’s do it.”
~Joy~
Downtown Seattle is bustling for a late Thursday morning. Then again, I don’t think this city is ever truly quiet. Even on Sundays, there are races and other events happening, especially along the waterfront.
Jace and I walk down the sidewalk, just a few blocks up from the waterfront and Pike’s Place Market, among throngs of people and shops, restaurants and offices. The city makes me feel energized.
We stop at a red light, waiting our turn to cross the street. When the signal turns, Jace takes my hand in his, linking our fingers to cross the road. He’s done this before. He’s a chivalrous guy.
When we safely reach the other side, I go to pull my hand away, but Jace tightens his grip, not letting me go. And I don’t fight it.
“Let’s go into Nordstrom,” he suggests, making me laugh. “What? I want to look at their shoes.”
“Seems I can’t avoid Nordy’s this week,” I reply. “Noel called me earlier, wanting me to go to the semi-annual sale this weekend, but I’m on call.”
“Awesome, I get you instead.” He winks down at me. “How is Noel?”
Love With Me (With Me In Seattle Book 11) Page 2