Yeah, he really does that to me.
A Englishman’s voice comes on and I will admit it’s soothing and his words are lovely, but therein lies one of my problems.
While this man’s voice is absolutely perfect for meditation, it’s not the kind of voice I want to hear from a man.
I want a gruff, gravely voice that sounds like leather dipped in steel…also known as the sound Austin’s pipes produce.
“Just notice what you’re feeling, but don’t push it away,” the meditation app says. “Just recognize it, touching it with a feather instead of trying to hit it with a hammer, letting yourself know it’s okay—”
I close the app mid-sentence, wanting to throw my phone against the wall.
No! It’s not okay. I’m generally a risk averse person and this is the biggest risk of my life. I don’t have some feather duster or whatever the hell he was talking about. I need a hammer right now to pound away at this fear.
Speaking of hammers I imagine that body of his, the one that’s chiseled out of stone. The one you could probably hit with a hammer and he’d just laugh at you.
The man is solid as stone, thick as a tree trunk, and he pretty much stole my…. Yeah, don’t get your hopes up, Madison, only to be let down.
Suddenly my phone vibrates.
“Now what is it?” I yell, realizing I’m talking to myself.
I look down and realize it’s a call…from an unknown number.
It’s probably building security asking me why I’ve been standing outside for fifteen minutes. Maybe they think I’m pregnant and scared or something. Wouldn’t that be great actually! Having his baby…nothing would be better, and that would mean he’s my first and my last.
Wait a second. How in the world would security even have my number? They wouldn’t. Am I that much on edge right now that I’m making up scenarios in my mind that couldn’t even exist...like the two of us being together?
I breathe out, not even realizing I was holding my breath and go ahead and accept the call.
“Madison,” the smoky tones from his throat sound like he’s standing right next to me.
“Yes,” I say softly, knowing exactly who’s on the other line.
“I took your number from the form you filled out. I’m very sorry as it’s unethical, against policy, and if you really want you can have me fired right now…and you’d be completely in the right for doing so.”
“No. It’s okay, Dr. Abbott,” I manage to say.
“Good, because I really like your style…the way you were dressed casually, comfortably, but still had an effortlessly cool look to you the other day.”
“Effortlessly cool?”
“Yeah, you know. If Steve McQueen or Paul Newman had a girlfriend—” Suddenly the line goes silent and then I hear him…growling? “If they were women, a real woman like you, that’s how they’d dress.”
“Thanks,” I say, having no idea what in the world he really just said or where he’s going with this, but I don’t care. All I know is he risked everything just to call me and that’s one heck of a start.
And then it hits me. I’m standing outside his work, for no real reason.
“Where are you right now?” he asks.
Butterfinger! Snickers! Reese's Peanut Butter Cups! I’m so busted.
“You know, just out running errands before Christmas. Last minute Christmas shopping and stuff…and stuff.”
Oh my god. Did I just stay “and stuff” twice? I am totally busted.
“So you’re out? You’re not at home…with your parents?”
“No. They’re doing stuff and I’m doing other stuff.”
Oh my god, not again!
“Great. I want to pick you up and take you Christmas tree shopping.”
“Christmas tree shopping?”
“Yeah, you have great style. Me? I’m practically red-green colorblind, and I’m not kidding. It’s a real condition, so it’s always Christmas for me…sort of. But this Christmas I was thinking of decorating up my place a bit…making it look like a workaholic recluse doesn’t just come there to sleep and eat cans of tuna, egg whites, and guacamole.”
“You eat guacamole?”
“Can’t get enough. Best thing on earth.”
“And it’s red and green, like Christmas.”
“Exactly. We can make some.”
I giggle. “Christmas guacamole?”
“Why not. We’ll get a tree and make guacamole. I’ll come get you now.”
“Now?” My head darts from side to side.
“Yeah, right now. Just send me your location on WhatsApp.”
“I think something’s wrong with my phone right now,” I say.
The line goes silent.
“Dr. Abbot?”
“You don’t feel obliged to help me, because of your dad do you?”
“No! No. No. I want to.”
Another silence.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because I called you on WhatsApp and we’re talking on it right now.”
“Oh,” I say. “Well, um…right! Well, look at that will ya. It’s working again. What an amazing Christmas gift.” Oh my god I am so busted. “Let me just hang up and I’ll send you my location then?”
“Perfect. See you soon,” he says.
“See you soon,” I say.
I hear the line drop and I take off in a dead sprint away from the hospital.
Holy guacamole, because I haven’t exercised in forever.
I can feel my tits flopping every which way and my hair flying in my face as I trounce through the snow away from the hospital.
There’s a shortcut, or at least there is when there’s not six inches of snow on the ground, that should put me by a coffee shop if I can make it that far.
It should take just a few minutes, but at this rate, and in my condition the EMTs might find me face down in the snow before I make it.
I can’t let that happen.
I pump my arms and feel the burn in my thighs. The pain from my fall has started to heal, but it still stings a bit.
I feel my phone vibrate in my hand, but I don’t bother to look at it. I already know who’s calling.
I keep going and before long I see the coffee shop in the distance.
I click on my Yelp app and check into the restaurant, leaving a “Yum! Dee-lish!” comment on the app and tag some piece of chocolate cake.
I keep running and running and running.
When I reach the restaurant I collapse onto my backside and open my WhatsApp.
There are a of couple messages from Austin, but I don’t read them. I sit up and just send him my location and immediately fall onto my back right in the snow in front of the coffee shop.
My phone vibrates again and I bring it up to my face.
“Perfect. Just around the corner. Be right there.”
Oh no.
I roll over and push myself up, realizing my tailbone is getting a lot better, or the adrenaline rush and endorphins are kicking in that I don’t even notice it.
He literally is a drug to me. I’d never touch a real drug, no way no how not now not ever, but metaphorically speaking he has what I assume is a similar effect on me. Then again…no. Because what I feel for him is perfect, pure, natural and lasts forever. There are no ups and downs when it comes to this doctor. It doesn’t matter if I see him, hear him, smell him, touch him, or if I’m just thinking about him. It’s always a rush of excitement and positivity…and that just reinforces what I already knew.
He’s the one, the only. And he will be mine.
CHAPTER 6
Austin
“You’re breathing hard. Are you still feeling the effects of the fall?” I ask after I open her door and help her into my Range Rover.
“No, I’m just…excited we’re doing this,” she says.
“Me too,” I say.
I want to reach over and put my hand on her lap right now, but not in a physical way…in a way to let her know the exact opp
osite of that…that this is a lot more than just a physical attraction coming from my side.
But I know if I did put my hand on her thigh the physical part would become very apparent real quick.
I watch out of the side of my eye as she takes in the interior of my SUV. I like how she fits in the passenger seat, how it seems to almost hold her in place right where she belongs. Next to me.
“You’re picking out a tree a bit late aren’t you?” she asks.
“Very late. I’ve been busy with work and wasn’t really planning on putting one up this year. My sister called recently and said she might drop by so I figured I better put something up or she’ll think I’m turning into one of those emotionless robots that doctor’s sometimes become.”
“They do?”
“It’s an easy trap to fall into. You deal with the human body all day and you grow accustomed to it. You see it more like a machine that you work on, kind of like a mechanic believe it or not. And then there are the emotional highs and lows, which go so much higher and so much lower than the average person would ever have to deal with on a day-to-day basis. There are two ways of dealing with it. The first is to become kind of detached from it all. To steal a way of thinking from the ancient Greeks, you’d basically become a stoic.”
“And the other way?”
“The more common way? Well, unfortunately that’s to spend all your money on fancy things after the whopping monthly student loan repayments that seem to drag on forever. And that lifestyle often leads to a lot of drinking for one reason or another.”
“Wow, sounds…kind of depressing.”
“It can be but thankfully I’ve never looked at it that way. I got into it to help people and I still enjoy it. I remember the first time my little sister Lisanne got stung by a bee. My first thought was to remove the stinger and treat the pain. She’s a real go-getter, always has been always will be and that means she’s not afraid of scrapes and scratches, which meant when we were kids I got to play “doctor” a lot.”
She smiles and I can’t help but smile too as I think back to all the crazy stuff we got into as kids.
“That’s good. Your sister will see you’re enjoying the season.” She pauses. “When was the last time you put up a tree?”
How was I not ready for this question? My brows narrow. “It’s been awhile,” I say, and thankfully she leaves it at that.
A few minutes later we’re pulling into the Christmas tree lot. I can’t remember the last time I picked out a tree. It’s been so long.
I’m quick to get out of the car and around to open her door for her and help her out.
We start walking around just talking about nothing and everything all at once. We’re kind of looking at trees, but that’s only an excuse to not completely stare at each other like two psychos.
I can see she’s nervous, and I can’t lie…it turns me on.
In the L.A. area everyone pretends to be so cool all the time. To think that there’s still a shy, nice, conservative type girl out there anywhere fifty miles from the coast in this state is a godsend.
And she’s just not that type of girl. She is the girl, and more accurately my woman.
“I’ve got an idea,” she says.
“Shoot,” I say.
“Let’s play hide and go seek.”
I look around at the trees, sizing them up. They are pretty tall and wide but I’m going to have a tough time hiding my big body. Her? She’s got it made.
“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right. I have an unfair advantage, so you can go first,” she says.
“You’re on. Give me ten seconds and you’ll never find me,” I say.
“I sure hope not,” she says.
She doesn’t turn to count and I don’t turn to go hide. Our eyes lock on each others, and although the small lanterns that hang from the thin cables that are strung through the place aren’t on as it’s not dark yet, I can still see a light in her eyes…a vibrancy that shows me just how alive she is and how she feels about exactly what’s on my mind.
“Can I help you guys find anything?” a voice says just before some kid steps close to us and slaps his hands together and flashes us a plastic smile.
“You can help us by learning how to read a situation and getting lost,” I growl, completely losing it.
The kid opens his mouth to say something, but by the time I’ve got my head turned towards him he’s ducked in-between a few trees and I hear his footsteps heading in the opposite direction…fast.
I grab that kid by the scruff of his neck ready to teach him to think before he speaks. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself.
“Okay,” Madison says, her voice full of positivity. “Twenty seconds.”
The sweet sound of her feminine speech has me right back on track. I swear she sounds like birds singing in spring and I could listen to her talk all day long.
“Nineteen…eighteen.”
I try to move away as quietly as I can, but the sound of boots carrying two hundred and thirty pounds of muscle isn’t exactly the right setup for a quiet getaway in the snow.
I find a spot next to a couple of trees and slide in.
On one hand I feel ridiculous.
On the other I can’t remember the last time I let go and had this much fun.
Her youthful exuberance, her smile, her…everything makes me feel like a kid again, albeit a very horny kid at that.
And apparently I’m not doing a good job of hiding it because my sister picked up on it right away.
She can definitely read me better than anyone, but if she picked up on it through the phone then I’d better be careful with my in-person communication from now on. The last thing I need is something getting back to Mike and Misty in regards to their daughter. Mike’s my best friend and Misty’s like an adopted sister to me, not to mention I introduced the two of them.
To say I’m skating on thin ice by being out here with their daughter is the understatement of the year.
My thoughts turn to her and how great this Christmas is going to be. I just need to come up with ways for us to spend time together without her parents finding out.
This is so wrong it’s ridiculous, but it’s so right there’s no denying it.
If I didn’t know her parents I swear I’d grab her right now and throw her over my shoulder like a caveman and carry her down to the justice of the peace and make her mine officially, forever.
But she deserves way better than that. She deserves the world to be exact…the whole solar system and all the stars in the sky if I could give them to her.
What could be better than having a big wedding celebration with the whole world to see me claim what’s mine?
Only one thing.
To put a baby in her belly. Our baby. Visual proof of how perfect we are together, not that we need to prove anything to anyone, even though proving to her parents that this is real is probably going to take some work.
But I can’t think about that right now, and the more I do think the more I wonder why she hasn’t found me yet. I can’t be that difficult to locate, can I?
I lean forward just a bit, looking right and left down the aisle, but still staying hidden.
No sign of her.
I slowly come out from being wedged in-between two evergreen conifers and decide it’s time to start looking for her.
The thought that someone might snatch her up, harm her, or even bother her on my watch, or ever, has my hands balling up in fists and a cool sweat running from my armpits down the sides of my body. I can feel it under my thick clothing and if I find someone messing with her then I’ve got something they’re really going to feel.
CHAPTER 7
Madison
“That meathead’s a jerk,” the guy says, stepping in-between me and where I want to go.
“He’s not a meathead, he’s a doctor.”
“Ah, so you’re a gold digger then? One of those kinds of girls. I see how it is,” he says with a shit-eatin
g-grin on his face.
“No, you don’t see shit, son,” the rage-filled voice of a real man, my man, bellows out appearing out of nowhere. His forearm wraps around the boy’s neck, and when I say boy I mean a guy my age who looks like he could be in the NFL, but it’s just that Austin is so much bigger. “And if you’ve got something to say, say it now,” he says, the choke-hold he has him in making it obvious there’s no way this boy’s getting any more words out until Austin says so.
Possessive Doctor's Christmas: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Know What He Wants Book 89) Page 3