“Well, right now I doubt you’d even qualify for that. I know you’re a small man by nature, but you really need to work hard at putting on weight,” Dr. Ryan said, uncovering Ian’s groin.
Ian braced himself. This was always the hard part. Ian did his best to think about something else, while the doctor cupped his sac and examined the remaining testicle. Ian’s cock began to fill right on queue. He blushed and looked down at the erection bobbing against his stomach almost begging for attention. “Sorry,” Ian mumbled.
Dr. Ryan looked him in the eyes and grinned. “Don’t be, it goes with the job. Even straight men get erections half the time when I get to this portion of the exam.”
“Oh, I’m not…” Shit, well, there was nothing like coming out to your doctor while he held your nut sac in his hand. What was even more embarrassing was when he felt the doc’s warm fingers brush over his groin.
“I still haven’t figured out why your hair hasn’t grown back down here. The hair on your head is growing back so nicely, but there’s not even fuzz down here. Have you talked to anyone about it? I haven’t seen this particular reaction to chemo before.” Dr. Ryan continued to stare at Ian’s bare groin, which made Dick very happy to be the centre of attention.
Ian cleared his throat. “Um, well, actually, I have it waxed.”
Dr. Ryan’s eyes went wide as he looked up from Ian’s groin. “Waxed? You didn’t do that before, did you?” The doctor turned red and shook his head. “Sorry, forget I asked that.”
Running his hands through his very short auburn hair, Ian shrugged. “It’s okay. I found that I enjoyed the feeling of being smooth down there. When it started to grow back I got it waxed. It’s no big deal.” Dr. Ryan nodded and moved to examine the glands in his groin.
Finally, flipping Ian’s hospital gown down, Dr. Ryan stepped back. “Everything appears to be normal.”
“Yeah, if you could call having only one testicle normal,” Ian muttered sitting up.
The oncologist sighed and sat back down on his black stool. “I know it takes some getting used to, but you’re actually very lucky. The scrotum is adjusting very nicely, and so far there’s no sign of reoccurrence.” Grabbing Ian’s chart from the counter, Dr. Ryan began writing. “So we’ll see you back here after your next CT scan, right?” Dr. Ryan looked Ian in the eyes.
Ian felt his insides quiver as he returned the gaze. God, the man was gorgeous. Ian had even been through his crayon box to come up with just the right description of those eyes. He’d finally settled on a shade somewhere between denim and navy. Ian knew the long black lashes framed against the blue made them appear darker. He knew it was stupid, who the hell cared exactly what colour Dr. Ryan’s eyes were? But for some reason it was important to him.
Without giving himself a chance to back down, Ian blurted out, “Would you like to grab some dinner?”
Dr. Ryan seemed a little shocked before shaking his head. “Uh, no, sorry, I don’t date patients.”
Well at least he hadn’t said he didn’t date men. Ian had suspected for several months that the good doctor played on his team, now that he had confirmation, he wouldn’t let up until he got what he wanted. “It’s just dinner, not a date. I still don’t know many people in Providence and thought it would be nice not to eat alone for a change.” Ian gave him his pitiful, lonely boy look. In reality he had a pretty good group of friends, but Dr. Ryan didn’t need to know that.
The doctor looked at his watch and then back at Ian. “I have some paperwork I need to do before I can leave, but I’d be willing to meet you in an hour or so.”
Ian could tell the good doctor was already kicking himself for agreeing to dinner. Ian knew he needed to firm things up and get the hell out of there before Dr. Ryan talked himself out of it. “How ’bout Jed’s Steakhouse? I’ve heard it’s really good but I haven’t had anyone to go with, before now.”
Shifting from one foot to the other, Dr. Ryan sighed. “Okay, Jed’s in an hour. Of course you realise I could be called away on an emergency. It’s the life of a doctor.”
“I know,” Ian stood, holding the gown to his groin, and retrieved his pants. After getting out his wallet, he handed Dr. Ryan one of his business cards. “I’ll be waiting, but if for some reason you can’t make it call my cell phone.”
Dr. Ryan nodded and stuck the card in his shirt pocket. Before he could make it out the door, Ian spoke again. “I really hope you can make it, though.”
* * * *
Ian tapped his knife on the linen tablecloth, and adjusted his tie. He’d been lucky he’d had a meeting that morning otherwise he would have had to go home and change. His normal work attire of blue jeans and a dress shirt had been replaced with a charcoal grey suit and red tie. Ian hated getting dressed up for presentations, but today it had worked in his favour.
Glancing at the hostess station once more, Ian sighed. “He’s not coming,” he whispered to himself. His watch showed that it was an hour and a half since he’d left Dr. Ryan’s office, an hour and thirty minutes for Dr. Ryan to change his mind.
Taking his cell phone off his belt, Ian looked at the display. Nope, he hadn’t got a call. Finishing his wine, he wiped his mouth and put his napkin on the table before digging out a twenty. He put the tip beside his empty glass and stood, defeated. Stopping by the hostess station, Ian offered his apologies that he wouldn’t be dining after all.
Head down, he walked out the front door and towards the parking lot. When he looked around for his jeep, he noticed someone who looked an awful lot like Dr. Ryan sitting in a low-slung black sports car a couple of vehicles down from his. Walking up to the car, Ian stuck his hands in his pockets. Dr. Ryan had his head resting on the steering wheel and he appeared to be talking to himself. “I was just about to leave,” Ian said.
Dr. Ryan’s head jerked up as he spun to look at Ian. “Ian.”
“Yeah.”
“I…uh…” Dr. Ryan sighed. “Oh hell, I’ve been caught.” He grinned. “I was arguing with myself about whether or not to come in.”
“And had you decided?” Ian left his hands in his pockets but leaned one hip against the driver’s door. He didn’t look at Dr. Ryan, deciding the man obviously was embarrassed.
“No,” Dr. Ryan said. “I hadn’t decided. I want to have dinner with you, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea. Doctors don’t usually socialise with their patients.”
“Oh, well if that’s what’s stopping you consider yourself no longer my doctor. I’ll find a new oncologist this week.” Ian hated the thought of finding a new doctor, but the alternative was even worse. How could he continue to see Dr. Ryan in a professional setting knowing the way he was beginning to feel about him?
Dr. Ryan reached out his car window and put his hand on Ian’s arm. “I can’t ask you to do that. It wouldn’t be fair for you to disrupt your treatment for one date.”
“First of all, it’s my decision and secondly, who says it’s only going to be one date?” Ian finally looked in the window to meet Dr. Ryan’s eyes. “Look, Dr. Ryan, I like you, a lot. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past year it’s that life is to be treasured. Now I live everyday to the fullest. Regrets are for the old and dying. I’m neither.”
Dr. Ryan looked up at him for several moments. “My name’s Brannigan, you can call me Bran.” He looked around the parking lot. “So you feel like going in and having dinner?”
Ian looked back at the restaurants entrance. “Not really in there. I’d be kinda embarrassed. How about finding something else?”
“You like chilidogs?” Bran asked, grinning.
“Who doesn’t, but it’s not really on the approved list of food the nutritionist gave me.” Ian smiled.
“Well since I may not be your doctor anymore, Nancy won’t know. You want to get in or follow me?”
Ian was tempted to crawl in the tiny space with Bran and never get out. “I’d better follow you. No sense you bringing me back to pick up my jeep.”
“
Okay.” Bran started his car and smiled, pretty white teeth sparkling.
Ian dug his keys out of his pocket and jogged to his jeep. Pulling out of the parking lot behind Bran, he chuckled and looked down to his half-hard cock. “I may not be playing alone after all, Dick.”
Chapter Two
Looking in his rear-view mirror, Bran made sure Ian kept up with him on the way to Charlie’s. It was a big step for him, agreeing to have dinner with an ex-patient. Bran had always kept his professional life separate from his personal one.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t had a few nice looking patients over the years that would have probably jumped at the chance to go out with him. But it was considered unethical and Bran would never jeopardise his career for a quick lay. Oncologists were taught to have a good bedside manner, but they were also schooled in the art of detachment. It wasn’t easy getting to know a patient, caring about them, and then in many cases watching them die.
Bran prayed he wouldn’t be sorry for meeting Ian socially, even if he was no longer his patient. The attraction had been there since the first day he stepped into the exam room and had come face to face with the prettiest green eyes he’d ever seen. Ian had a lot more hair back then, of course, but Bran liked the shorter style better anyway.
Turning left onto Cleveland Avenue, Bran wondered what the hell he was doing. He liked Ian too much for a one-night stand, but he wasn’t out of the woods yet as far as a reoccurrence of his cancer. The last thing in the world he could do was watch Ian get sick again. Bran had already been tossing the thought of asking Ian to get another doctor to oversee his care.
Now the subject had been broached by Ian, Bran didn’t plan to talk him out of it. He’d just give Ian some names of a few of his colleagues. The personal side of his life Bran would have to figure out, and fast, he thought as he pulled in front of the bar and grill.
Getting out of the car, he took a deep breath and stood on the sidewalk. Ian parked a few spaces back and hopped out of his jeep. Bran noticed Ian had lost his tie and coat somewhere along the drive over. He looked good, Bran thought. Bran decided to take off his own jacket. He wasn’t wearing a tie so that was easy enough.
When Ian reached him, he smiled and pointed towards the building. “I’ve never been here. They have good chilidogs?”
“The best,” Bran said and held the bar door open for Ian. Without thought, Bran brushed Ian’s lower back as he moved through the doorway. He hadn’t even realised he’d done it until Ian looked back over his shoulder, pure lust in his eyes. Oh Christ, this is going to be a long dinner.
Bran walked towards a booth, trying to act as though his cock wasn’t attempting to push its way through his zipper. When he slid in against the wall, he let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t bother picking up a menu but held one out to Ian. “You can look over this, but most people only eat one thing here. To be honest, it’s the only thing I can personally vouch for.”
Ian waved away the menu. “I’ll go with your suggestion. I haven’t had a chilidog in ages. There’s a place in Kansas City called ‘The Peanut’. They have the best chilidogs for miles.”
The waitress came over to take their order and Ian looked at Bran. “Are you going to tell my doctor if I order a beer?”
Bran shook his head and chuckled. “Have what you want, you’re a big boy.” Bran realised what he’d said and winced. Hopefully the waitress hadn’t caught the innuendo.
When she walked off to turn in their orders, Bran smiled. “Sorry about that.”
“Hey, don’t apologise. It’s nice to know you approve,” Ian gave him a wink.
Bran felt his face turn red, an unfortunate consequence of having pale skin. No matter how much time he spent on the beach at his weekend home in Galilee, Bran stayed pretty fair. He was saved by the waitress returning with their beers. “Thanks,” Bran nodded.
He looked at Ian again and wondered what they should talk about. “So, what is it you do again?”
“I’m an illustrator. I mainly work on children’s and young adult books.” Ian shrugged like it was no big deal.
“Like painting or drawing?” Bran asked, fascinated that he hadn’t known this side of Ian before now.
“Painting mostly, I prefer to do my work in watercolours for the children’s books. I think it soothes them when they’re trying to go to sleep.”
Bran could tell by the look on Ian’s face that he loved what he did. “Have you illustrated any books I might know?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I doubt you’re up to date on children’s books, but I did one that’s sold quite a few,” Ian went on to tell Bran the name of a book that was fairly well known.
“Hey, I bought that book for my niece last Christmas. Wow, I’m sitting across from a real celebrity,” he chuckled.
Now it was Ian’s turn to blush, the Irish ancestry so much like his own, evident in his creamy complexion. He shrugged and took a drink of his beer.
The two of them talked until the waitress brought out their food. “Holy cow,” Ian said, eyes lighting up. “You weren’t kidding. These things look fantastic.” Ian spread his napkin out on his lap. Bran smiled as Ian tried to figure out if he should use silverware or risk dripping chilli all over his white dress shirt.
Bran picked up his knife and fork and started cutting into the colossal pile of food. Soon, Ian followed his lead and they both stopped talking in favour of dinner.
When they’d both pushed their plates back, Ian patted his flat stomach. “I won’t be able to eat for days.”
“You should probably eat like that more often, put a little meat on your bones,” Bran teased.
Ian ran his hands down his torso. “What, you don’t like lean men?”
“Oh, I like your body just fine.” Shit, why did I say that?
“Thank you, I’m rather fond of yours as well, although you’ve seen a hell of a lot more of mine.” Ian’s voice had taken on a sultry tone, one that Bran’s cock readily acknowledged.
He spread his thighs, giving his erection room and grinned. “I guess we’ll need to remedy that.”
Ian almost bounced out of the booth and dug in his back pocket for his wallet. “I’m done,” he said, throwing money on the table. “Could I interest you in a beer and a football game on TV?”
Bran’s eyes skimmed Ian’s body, taking in the object of his lustful thoughts pressing against Ian’s zipper. If Bran made this leap he knew there’d be no going back. The question being, was it worth it? He finished his beer as he thought of the repercussions of sleeping with Ian. Well, Ian soon would no longer be his patient, he needed to reconfirm that. Ian’s health also appeared to be normal. God, he was trying to justify sleeping with the man simply by the fact that he wasn’t dying.
Bran met Ian’s eyes again, “Are you really planning on transferring to another oncologist?”
Ian shrugged, “If that’s what it takes. As much as I like you as a doctor, I think I’ll like you even more as a lover.”
Well, that was plain enough. Now that the cards were clearly laid out on the table, Bran knew it was his move. “I’ll follow you,” he finally said, hoping like hell he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of his life.
* * * *
Ian pulled into the detached garage of his small, sage green house with white shutters. Wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, he locked the door and met Bran in the drive.
“Nice place,” Bran said, looking around at the house and yard.
The large maple trees shading his lawn were shedding their leaves and colourful patches of reds and orange floated down around them. Ian was proud of his home. He’d worked tirelessly refurbishing the older bungalow and had spent endless hours landscaping his entire yard. Gardening was one of his passions and right now, chrysanthemums of every colour lined the walk and front of the house. “Thanks, I like it.” Ian motioned towards the front porch, “Shall we?”
Bran nodded and preceded Ian up the steps. He couldn’t help checking out the fit of Bran’s slack
s across his ass. Licking his lips, it took all his willpower not to reach out for a touch. He looked up and realised he’d been caught staring. Blushing, Ian chuckled and unlocked the door. “Can’t blame a guy for staring with an ass like that.”
Bran’s cheeks pinked as he walked into the house. Ian looked around hoping he’d remembered to put away the laundry he’d folded the night before. Whew, he smiled, when he saw that indeed his house was clean. “Would you like a beer?” Ian asked as he walked towards the kitchen at the back of the house.
“Yeah, that sounds good.” Bran followed and leaned against the door jam. “You redo this room?” Bran asked, coming into the room to run his hands over the solid walnut countertop.
“About two years ago, I think.” Ian gestured to the counter. “Great aren’t they? I saw them in a magazine and knew it was exactly what I wanted. Of course that meant I had to paint the cabinets, but I like the country blue. It seems to fit the house.”
“The entire room is breathtaking. I think you might just be in the wrong line of work. I need you to come with me to Galilee sometime and help me decorate the beach house.”
“Shit, you have a beach house in Galilee?” Ian whistled. “That must be fantastic in the summer.”
“It’s great most of the year, except winter. Of course swimming’s out of the question in spring and fall, but the views are still spectacular.”
Opening the fridge, Ian took out two bottles of imported beer and passed one to Bran. Their fingers brushed and Ian’s cock took notice of the electricity between them. Taking a step closer, he held the bottle as Bran pulled it towards his chest.
They stood looking into each other’s eyes, barely an inch between them. Ian had to look up at the tall, six-foot-three doctor. He wasn’t sure if even on tip-toes he could reach those lips, given his own small five-foot-six frame, but oh how he wanted them. “I want to kiss you.”
Taking a deep, audible breath, Bran set the bottle on the counter along with Ian’s, and bent to brush their lips across one another’s.
Legend Anthology Page 15