Romance Me: A Collection Of Standalone & First In Series Books

by Florella Grant

  Reagan burst out in laughter and looked at the man. “His first,” she answered for him. “This is my pain in the ass brother.”

  “Oh, it makes sense now, the names,” Dean admitted.

  Kennedy leaned back in his chair and gave his sister the evil eye for speaking for him. “My father is a die-hard democrat and mother came from a republican home. Kennedy and Reagan, to please them both. Dumb, huh?” He looked around but none of the others gave any sign they thought the concept was dumb.

  Dean saw the resemblance in the siblings. Both had dark brown hair, though Reagan’s flowed down her backside while his had been a short crew cut. They had green eyes and almost looked identical; they couldn’t deny their bloodline. “Twins?”

  Kennedy roared but Reagan didn’t find the question humorous. “No,” she snapped. “We get that a lot though, and I don’t see the resemblance. He's older.”

  Mercy sprayed her drink out of her mouth when she laughed. “You must be blind. I’m with Doctor Everly on this one,” she said.

  “Dean,” he corrected her. He wanted the others to consider him a friend like Reagan had.

  “Fine, Dean,” she said then stood to stagger away.

  Other’s pulled up chairs to join their little group. Dean met half of Bay City Medical in one evening. They were all pleasant, though knew he wouldn’t remember half their names. Reagan looked at him, smiled, then talked to a lady he’d seen in the hospital.

  Kennedy inched closer to Dean, allowing more friends to crowd the table. “It’s nice to see my sister opening up to someone,” he whispered. “She doesn’t come out with us much, and when she does, she talks to the same people all the time.”

  “I wouldn’t call it opening up,” Dean stated. The extra company was great, but he hoped for more time alone with Reagan. She glanced over at him as the pair smiled at each other. Kennedy glanced between the two. Dean turned crimson and tried to cover the awkwardness. “Care for another?” Kennedy nodded and handed Dean his empty beer bottle. The escape from the overcrowded table felt like a breath of fresh air.

  As he waited on the drinks, a familiar scent filled the surrounding air. “This is on me,” Reagan said. Dean tried to put cash down, but she insisted. “You got the first one.”

  She stood close while the bartender did his best to make his way toward them. The Waiting Room was standing room only, doctors, nurses, medical professionals, and their dates packed the bar. Though, Dean wouldn’t say everyone there was a professional. A group of rowdy men bickered on the other side of Reagan until one started pushing into the other. Before they knew it, innocent people were being knocked over.

  Reagan hopped to the side, hoping to avoid the domino effect. She faced Dean as a wave of drunk humans pushed her into him. Dean reached for her and caught the small of her back. Reagan stood less than an inch from his face, his hand lingered near her hip as the other one held onto the bar to keep them upright.

  Her breath burned into him and if he’d been drinking; he would have considered going in for a kiss. Someone screamed some profanity, and another shove moved Reagan closer yet. This time, her hand reached out and squeezed Dean’s arm for protection. Her body formed perfectly along Dean’s and an erection bulged inside his scrubs.

  Damn it. She’ll never speak to me again!

  She’s taken, he reminded himself and backed off. Every hair on his body stood as her hand ran down the arm she’d been holding and brushed his hand. If she felt his hardness, she didn’t make any sign of it. Reagan took his hand and pulled him away from the bar. “Come on,” she led the way. “We’ll get drinks when that bullshit gets settled.”

  More than ever Dean needed a drink, even if it were cold water from the tap. As she moved in front of him, he excused himself. “I’ll be back,” Dean said, her head turned around as he pointed to the men’s room. He wanted to make a joke about it being a men’s room, see if she always went inside them, but deep inside knew she wouldn’t have found it funny.

  Cold water splashed his face, and he stared into the mirror, thinking he made an ass of himself. There was no way she didn’t feel his hard-on, but Reagan was foremost a professional and must have seen patients get them all the time. He lifted another handful of water and poured it over his head and let it run down into his shirt.

  Relationships of any kind was the last thing on his mind, especially from someone who already had a man in her life. Dean came to Bay City to fulfill a lifetime dream and couldn’t let a good-looking woman interfere with his plans on success. The reflection in the mirror frowned, the water wasn’t cold enough.

  I need to go take a cold shower.

  As he approached the table, the crowd disappeared. Kennedy picked Mercy’s limp body off the floor and carried her out. “Hey Dean,” he extended a hand, nearly dropping the drunk girl. “Those idiots ruined the night for us, we’re taking off, but it’s nice to meet you.”

  “Same,” Dean shook his hand, wondering what Kennedy’s sister filled his head within his absence. He took a seat and watched them stagger out the door.

  Reagan flopped her head down on the table. At first, he thought she’d just been tired, but the soft muffled sound that escaped her throat alerted him she’d been crying. Dean sat beside her, not sure what to say. “Did I upset you? I didn’t mean it; these things just happen.” His hand reached out for her back.

  Reagan lifted her head, her eyes watered. “Matt’s cheating,” she cried.

  Dean cleared his throat as he looked anywhere but in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling stupid. “You don’t owe me anything.” If what Kennedy said was true, she wasn’t the type to open up to just anyone, and he questioned whether she wanted to open up to him.

  She straightened up and wiped her eyes. Reagan moved her chair closer and talked in a low volume, trying her best to keep the remaining partiers from hearing. “I don’t know what to do,” she started. “He claims nothing happened, but I feel,” she held her hand over her heart, “that he’s not telling me the truth.”

  Dean looked down to the floor. Reagan sought relationship advice, and he wanted nothing more than to give it to her, but he didn’t want her to think the things he’d say were for his own selfish reasons. Cheaters didn’t sit well with him and without meeting him, Dean already knew he couldn’t stand her boyfriend. “Reagan, I don’t think-”

  “I mean, it’s my fault, right?” His head shook and tried to get a word in. Reagan needed to get this off her chest and somehow, Dean knew he was the only one she wanted to confide in. “I work early, while he works normal hours, so I’m in bed early and I’ll admit we don’t have any time together like we used to,” she said in one breath.

  “No,” he said again. “No, this isn’t your fault. Don’t make excuses for him.”

  She looked up; pools of tears filled her eyes. “I love him,” she cried. “Is that worth something? Isn’t it worth saving?”

  Hearing her words hit hard. Reagan didn’t need someone to tell her how beautiful she was or how she sparked a part of him he didn’t know existed before her. She loved the man she was with and that was honorable. She needed a friend, nothing more. Dean didn’t want to come across as a sleaze but wanted her to know he’d be there to catch her fall.

  “I can’t tell you what to do,” he told her as he rubbed her back. Dean wanted to tell her that her boyfriend was a loser who didn’t deserve her love. He wanted to tell her she needed to pack her bags and leave. “Just know that I’m here for you.”

  Not exactly the words I wanted to say.

  She wiped her eyes again and crossed her arms over her chest. He could see her breasts rise and fall with every breath she took, and he tried his best not to stare. “I need to fix things, need to make things right again,” she said.

  “No, kick him to the curve.” Where the hell did that come from? Reagan’s eyes widened as she backed away. Doctors fixed things; she needed her heart mended. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he reached for her hand. “I don�
��t think cheaters change, but I’m not telling you what to do.”

  Her facial expression softened as she brushed her wet hands on her pants. “I can’t just leave him,” she said. “I feel like him and I have something special and times have just been hard on us. Would you still be my friend?”

  Friend zoned! Just perfect!

  Dean reached over and touched her cheek with his thumb, removing the last of her tears. “Of course,” he said. “What kind of man would I be if I turned my back on you now? Like it or not, we’re stuck together and your secret,” he pinched his lips and zipped them closed.

  She said nothing for a minute or two but then a smile spread across her face. “Speaking of secrets, how about that Sprite?”

  They laughed together, but Dean declined the offer. “I should get going.”

  Reagan agreed and stood. They walked out the door and he walked her to her Mazda, which was closer to the hospital than it was to the bar. “Thank you for the shoulder,” she said as she leaned in and placed her head on his chest.

  His arms wrapped around her and pulled her in for a hug. “Anytime,” he breathed, a lump in his throat held back his emotions. “I’ll see you in the OR.”

  Reagan got inside her car and Dean turned toward his Hyundai Genesis. On one hand he was glad their friendship grew, and she could depend on him, but on the other, his heart. Dean’s hand reached up and felt the beating inside his chest. Something inside him had come alive since he met her. Dean knew she’d fall apart. If he’d have it his way, she’ll fall right into his arms.

  Chapter 7

  MATT SLEPT ON THE COUCH, with no cares in the world. Reagan slipped her shoes off and slithered across the dark room until she reached her bedroom. She shut the door, not wanting to talk about their problems should he wake.

  Telling Dean of Matt’s infidelity wasn’t on her to-do list, it just came out. A wave of emotions raged through her and the words slipped. Oh God, I should have talked to Mercy.

  Mercy would be furious when she found out Reagan confided in him before her. She took a deep breath, knowing Dean wouldn’t give her secret away.

  Every night since Reagan walked into the utility closet, sleep abandoned her. Tossing and turning only made her more tired. Around midnight, she went to the bathroom and took a melatonin. As she laid under the covers, images of Dean flashed through her mind and her feelings confused her. She didn’t find him attractive when they first met, though she only had eyes for Matt. Now her stomach fluttered just thinking about his crystal blue eyes and the toothy smile he always had on his face.

  Reagan sat up and leaned against the headboard. Matt is my priority! But, there’s Dean Everly. A deep sigh released from her lungs as Reagan slipped lower onto her pillows.

  She felt comfortable around him, laughed with him, and eased. Dean made her feel like a different person. Reagan liked the way she felt when he was around. Images of him burned in the back of her eyelids as she tried to sleep. There was concern in his eyes, his hair curled right under his ears, and his muscles bulged under his tight scrub top. Her eyes popped open again. Had I really been looking that closely?

  The night replayed in her head. If the drunks didn't start a fight, they would have stayed at the Waiting Room much longer than they did. If it hadn’t been for the fighters, she wouldn’t have fallen into Dean and felt the strength of his erection.

  Oh my God.

  Reagan tried hard not to think of that. She didn’t want to embarrass Dean when she felt it. It was there because of her, and she had to admit her breasts ached while he held her close, but she didn’t want to draw attention to it. As she relived the moment of being pressed against Dean, Reagan wondered if she was any better than Matt?

  Yes, I am! I didn’t act on it. It was a reaction that any woman would feel in that situation. She’d never given a good-looking doctor an erection before.

  Her eyes squeezed shut as she tried her hardest to give into the sleeping aid, and to rid the wrongful images flashing before her. Reagan took a deep breath and turned onto her side. The clock said it was just after 1:00 and she allowed sleep to take her.

  The smell of bacon and coffee drifted passed her nose as Reagan woke up. She opened her eyes to see it was after 9:00 and she slept for over eight hours. Next to the clock, a framed picture of Reagan and Matt stood on the nightstand. She picked it up and tears stung her eyes as she examined it. Had there been any signs that he would cheat? In the picture, they wrapped their arms around each other and smiled while looking at the camera. If we were so happy, why did you fool around? Maybe he told her the truth about the incident, she wondered.

  She stood and put a robe on, then walked out to the kitchen. “Hey,” he greeted her. Reagan couldn’t help but giggle looking at him wearing one of her aprons, no shirt under. “Have a seat, breakfast is almost ready.”

  Matt poured a mug of coffee, prepared the way she liked it, and placed it in front of her. She held it to her mouth with two hands, and said, “Thank you,” before taking the first sip.

  “You were out late last night,” he said as he turned and flipped pancakes on the griddle.

  It wasn’t late, she told herself, knowing she’d been home since 10:00. It was late for her though, Reagan rarely went out and with the hours she worked, couldn’t stay awake that late.

  What do you care?

  Matt never questioned her before, did what he wanted when he wanted. She wondered why he cared what time she came home? “There’s a new doctor, and we all went out to welcome him,” she explained.

  “You drank?” He questioned her.

  Reagan shook her head, wanting to laugh at Dean and her drinking soda while all the others were getting smashed. “You know I don’t drink much,” she told him. Matt served Reagan a plate of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon then sat opposite of her with his own. “It wasn’t that late; you were sleeping on the couch when I got home and I didn’t want to wake you.”

  Matt swallowed his food and washed it down with a sip of orange juice, he didn’t drink coffee. “I wish you did,” he said. “We should talk.”

  A lump formed in her throat as her stomach flipped. If he didn’t lighten the mood soon, she thought she would throw up. “About what?” she mumbled, wanting him to answer but not wanting to know.

  Matt finished his food while she played with hers. Their relationship was going down, she didn’t want to eat. When he finished, he picked the conversation back up. “Are we okay?” he asked as he reached over and took her hand.

  Reagan wanted to scream at him, gash his eyeballs out with her nails, stick her fork in his eye for what he’d been putting her through. No, we’re not fucking alright. Matt would determine what happens to them, not her. “You tell me,” she snapped and yanked her hand away. “Are we?”

  “Jesus, Reagan,” he stood to clear his side of the table. “I made sure I was home to spend the evening with you and you went out with your friends. Yes, I question whether or not we’re fine.”

  She couldn’t believe the words spilling from his mouth, like she cheated, and he waited for her to come home with an explanation. “I took off from work after I found out about you-”

  “There was nothing to find out,” Matt shouted.

  “I took off from work after I had my suspicions about you,” she corrected herself and continued speaking before he could interrupt again. “You didn’t think it was important enough then to discuss. But I stay out one night, and you’re concerned?”

  Matt hung his head and sat in his chair again. He placed his elbows on the table and slid his head into his opened palms. “I love you,” he said, “You could have told me where you were, and I would have joined you.”

  Lies, all lies, Reagan convinced herself. He was trying to make himself feel better about what he’d done. “You never come to the Waiting Room, why start now?”

  “Because, we don’t spend as much time with each other as we should.”

  He had a valid point, though it didn’t justi
fy his actions. Reagan started work before sunup, and most of the time worked straight through dinner. Matt worked early, but still hours later than she did. It had been a long time since they did more than watch a couple television shows together. “You’re right,” she agreed. “It’s just the way we work, nothing intentional. Why don’t we do something today?”

  Matt leaned the chair onto two legs and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m going to work,” he stated.

  “It’s Saturday,” she reminded him. His eyes focused on her as she studied his face. He looked sincere and apologetic.

  “It’s also my weekend on and to be honest, I should have been there two hours ago.”

  Reagan didn’t reply, there was nothing she could say. He had to work one weekend a month and Reagan hadn’t paid attention to which weekend he worked last.

  Matt stood, “I need to get ready.” He kissed the top of her head before leaving the kitchen and left her alone with her thoughts. She wished he kissed her lips, pressed her against the wall the way he did the other girl, but he didn’t.

  A few minutes later, he grabbed his keys and was ready to head out. “Matt, wait,” Reagan called out to him. He paused by the door, waiting for her to say something. “How about a nice dinner then? Will you be able to get out on time?”

  He pulled her close and embraced her. “That sounds wonderful,” he smiled. Again, he kissed the top of her head. Reagan stood on her toes to kiss him goodbye, but he turned his face too fast. A quick peck on his cheek was all she could get in. “I’ll see you tonight then.”

  Matt left. Why won’t he kiss me like he used to? If anyone should hold back, it should be her. Reagan shook her head and went back into the kitchen to clean up. Tears slid down her cheeks as she loaded the dishwasher, knowing they were losing each other.

  DEAN WALKED INTO THE cafeteria and bought a cup of coffee. He didn’t need to be in the hospital but found it to be the only thing that kept him focused on his career. If he stayed home, he would only think about Reagan and the feelings she stirred in him. Reagan didn’t intend on turning him to mush, and he thought that made things harder. Why do I always want what I can’t have?