by Carly Marie
I let out a dry laugh. “Came home from work one day and she told me she was done being a wife and a mother. Told us goodbye and we haven’t had any contact with her since.”
Jeff’s mouth hung open, then he pulled himself together and smiled. “I can’t even pretend to know what that is like, but I got a phone call at ten thirty one night from a friend who works in CPS up in Nashville. I’d recently completed the process to be a foster parent. When I started the classes, I’d been dating a guy, but he left halfway through. Anyway, I was sitting at home watching the end of a football game, and my phone rang. Macy asked me—no, wait, that’s not right. Macy begged me to drop everything and come to Nashville’s children’s hospital because there were two kids that needed a home immediately. She wouldn’t consider separating them, and no one she had called was willing to take two kids. That was the night I went from a single twenty-seven-year-old man to the father of a newborn and a two-year-old. Not exactly the same thing, but I get it.”
I couldn’t help the bark of surprised laughter that spilled from me. If anyone got what suddenly being left with two kids would be like, it was Jeff. “Oh, that’s a shock to the system. At least my boys were two and four; it was rough for a time, but we got through it.”
Jeff took a long drink from his beer glass. “Yeah. Since then, finding a man to date has been nearly impossible. I’m always up front with men that I have kids. Most of them seem fine with it at first, but as soon as I mention doing anything with my kids, they are out the door before the sentence is out of my mouth.”
I hadn’t experienced anything like that yet, but that was because I hadn’t been with anyone since then. While I’d been married, we’d had a healthy sex life and just thinking about her had been enough to turn me on. When she left, my sex drive left with her. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had more than a rushed orgasm just to blow off steam. It was more of a biological need than a desire.
But at least Jeff understood what single parenting was like. Our friendship was new, only a little over an hour old, but I felt like I might have found someone who understood. With so much more time on my hands now and babysitters I didn’t feel like I had to sell a kidney to afford, it would be nice to have a friend again. It had been so long since I’d had a friend outside of work, even the idea felt foreign to me.
“Hey, Jeff!” the server greeted him with a big smile.
“Hi, Tate. Have you met Dr. Murray? He took over for Doc Johnson at the clinic.”
Tate’s blue eyes went wide and he smiled. “I haven’t, but my mom’s your head nurse. She’s said a lot of great things about you already.”
I felt heat spread across my cheeks. My head nurse, Trish, was a ball of energy and always had a smile on her face. She’d also talked highly of her son. He was going to school for civil engineering and was nearing his last semester. “Nice to meet you. Your mom speaks highly of you as well.”
Tate shook his head good-naturedly. “Of course she has. The woman doesn’t know how to be quiet. Anyway, have you guys had a chance to decide what you want?”
I hadn’t looked at the menu, but when Jeff ordered his burger, topped with fried onions, cheese, and bacon, I couldn’t help but order the same. And I ordered another beer.
“Carl says you own the garage?” I asked when Tate left the table, trying to take some of the focus off me.
Jeff’s face lit up. “Yeah. My grandfather opened it back in the fifties. My dad took it over, then when he died, I took it over. My sister is the office manager, and my kids help out quite a bit. It sort of runs in our blood, I guess.” He tapped his chin in thought. “Though I guess I won’t be getting any of your business. Those electric cars are so complicated they require specialized mechanics.”
“They do in fact require specialized mechanics. Mechanics I can’t seem to find around here.”
Jeff threw his head back and laughed, the long line of his neck fully exposed and his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Oh yeah. You’ll probably have to go into Nashville. I think there’s a dealership up there. It’s about thirty-five minutes from here.”
“I grew up in Nashville. My parents didn’t move here until after my brother and I had moved out.”
“I remember them moving in. They’ve always been nice. Your mom was the first one to tell me you were taking over Doc’s. Then Carl told me, then your dad, then Kathryn.”
I pulled a napkin over my head to hide the way my cheeks flamed.
“It’s cute. They’re really proud of you. And maybe just a little excited to have you home again.”
“It’s been hard to keep them from taking over my house. My mom almost beat my door down to help me unpack. She can’t understand why I feel like I really need to do it on my own. My dad has asked me almost every day what project I want him to tackle first. I need to get in and get settled first. I’ve been doing everything on my own for six years. It’s hard to accept the help, no matter how well-meaning they are.”
“I can appreciate that. Annie drives me nuts at times. Since she works for me, she sometimes doesn’t understand personal boundaries. She’s convinced that my life is her life. Usually I don’t mind, but sometimes enough is enough.”
I was beginning to understand that feeling. “My mom came to pick the boys up before I went to work a few days ago. She wanted to know why I was in the bathroom. I’m a forty-two-year-old man! I am fully capable of going to the bathroom without supervision.”
Jeff had just taken a drink of his beer and ended up choking on it while he tried to swallow. “Oh, that’s too funny. I guess you can take solace in the fact that she didn’t walk in on you?”
That had me choking on my drink. I was embarrassed at just the thought of it. “Oh god. I need to make sure the bathroom door locks.”
We were both still laughing when Tate delivered our food. Jeff ordered another drink and I did the same, never thinking that I hadn’t drunk more than a beer in years. As we finished our last beer, Jeff flagged Tate down to pay, but I didn’t remember much past that.
CHAPTER 5
Jeff
Dinner had gone well. At least I thought it had. Conversation had flowed easily, and I felt like we had the makings of a strong friendship. He’d killed the possibility of anything else by telling me that he wasn’t sexually attracted to anyone. That was fine with me. I didn’t need a boyfriend. I’d gone the last fifteen-plus years without a serious relationship, and having someone not freak out about me having kids was welcomed.
As we bundled up for the walk to my house, I remembered that Jenna loved babysitting, but unfortunately for her, there wasn’t a lot of demand in town. “I should introduce you to Jenna and Seth. I shouldn’t volunteer her services, but I know she would be happy to babysit if you ever want a break from using your mom or if she ever needs a break.”
Mark hiccupped. “Excuse me. That may be a good idea. I suspect that at some point my mom will drive me nuts.”
My parents had been dead well before Seth and Jenna came into my life, so I didn’t have any experience with parents driving me nuts, but if they were anything like my sister, I could sympathize.
It wasn’t until we got to the end of the driveway that I realized Mark had gone from a little tipsy to nearly drunk. He stumbled over his feet, then laughed hysterically. “I’m so sorry,” he giggled. “I’m not a big drinker.”
My eyes went wide. He’d only had three glasses of beer throughout the night. Sure they were a little higher alcohol content than a standard draft, but they shouldn’t have been enough to get him drunk. I wasn’t even feeling it and I’d had two more beers than him. “How light of a drinker are you?” When he swayed, I didn’t know if I wanted to know the answer.
“I haven’t had more than a glass of beer in a night in years.”
I groaned into the silent night. “Great. I just got the town doctor drunk.”
“I’ll be fine,” he hiccupped again. “I just need to sleep it off.”
There was no
way I was going to let him sleep it off at home. He couldn’t drive like this, either. I’d never forgive myself if he got sick in the middle of the night, or worse. “How about you sleep it off in my guest room?”
He blinked a number of times like he’d be able to blink the world into focus. “Your room?”
God, the man really was drunk. Note to self: Don’t let Mark drink so much in the future. Or at all. Really, at all. “My guest room. Come on.” I ended up having to help him out of his coat, his fingers not working well enough to maneuver the large buttons through the holes. With the softest scarf I’d ever felt gently wrapped around the top of the hanger, I hung them in the hall closet, keeping an eye on Mark the entire time. He swayed again after getting into the house, and I didn’t want him to take a tumble.
He tried to take a few steps and began to giggle uncontrollably. “My legs,” he gasped, his rosy cheeks turning redder. “They, they feel heavy and rubbery. How is that even possible? I’m a doctor—I don’t think this is possible.”
I shook my head in amusement. I was more of a broody drunk; I tended to get quiet and turn in on myself. My sister got loud and opinionated. We were an odd pair when we drank together. But giggly was not something I had experience with. Sure, I’d seen giggly drunks before, but I’d never had to take care of one. The longer I watched Mark, the harder it was to keep a straight face myself.
He wobbled and swayed and then began trying to use one of our four-inch-wide floorboards to complete a sobriety test. “I think I could pass,” he said triumphantly at the end of the board before promptly losing his balance and landing on the couch.
I stood just inside the entryway, my hand still on the closet door, shaking my head and laughing. “Right. Let’s not put you in a position to actually have to try that. Don’t think Sheriff Westfield would go easy on you just ‘cause you’re the doctor.”
I headed over to him and held out my hand. “Come on, I’ll help you up the steps. I think there’s even an extra toothbrush in the bathroom in there.”
Mark took my hand and let me pull him. We only made it a few steps before he began drifting away from me, his unsteady feet causing me to have to work twice as hard to steer him. Before we made it to the steps, I gave up and wrapped my arm around his waist to try to keep him in a straight line. Until that moment, I’d thought Mark was tall and lanky. His wool coat had fit him like a glove, but underneath, the sweater and jeans had hung loosely off him. As I guided him, I could feel solid muscle under the impossibly soft sweater.
As I helped him up the steps, I couldn’t help but note how good it felt to have him close to me. Not just the soft sweater that radiated warmth where it was pressed against me, but the firm muscles, the way he leaned into me, trusting me. It all felt good.
We made it halfway up the steps before Mark hiccupped, then laughed lightly. “When did I get so drunk? I wasn’t drunk when we left the bar, was I?”
“Nowhere near like this. You didn’t mention that you get drunk so easily.”
He giggled. “I don’t remember getting drunk this easily before.”
I directed Mark into the spare room at the top of the steps. “The bathroom is right through there.” I pointed to the doorway on the other side of the room. “A toothbrush should be in the top drawer of the vanity.” I looked over to find Mark staring between the bed and the bathroom door, his hand swiping aimlessly in front of him. “Or I’ll walk you there.”
I didn’t want to hover over him, so I stood outside the bathroom door while he brushed his teeth. It was an almost five-minute process, punctuated by laughter and groans about missing his mouth with the toothbrush. Eventually, the water ran and Mark sighed. “Thank you. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”
“Alcohol,” I responded automatically. “And never again on my watch. At least not this much.”
“Three. Only three. I should not be this drunk. Oh, my bladder is calling.” I heard him shuffle toward the toilet. “You know, I think I’m gonna sit down for this one.”
I couldn’t help myself. I burst out laughing, doubling over and resting my hands on my knees. “You know what? I’m going to go grab you a pair of pajamas while you figure out the best way to relieve yourself. Just don’t fall in. I don’t want to explain to the EMTs how the new doctor drowned in my guest room toilet.”
Mark laughed harder than he should have, and I skirted out of the room before our ridiculous conversation could continue.
I hurried to my room and found a pair of lounge pants in my dresser along with an old T-shirt. It had only taken me ninety seconds at most to return to the bedroom. The door was open and I took a step in, stopping in my tracks when I saw Mark standing by the bed. He’d already stripped off his pants and was working his sweater over his head, exposing long lines of flat abs and rippling muscles.
Mark was nowhere near as thin as I’d originally expected him to be. Helping him up the steps had told me he was toned, but I was not expecting the chiseled frame in front of me. With his arms above his head as he pulled his shirt off, there was nothing hidden except the bulge in his well-fit briefs. I’d always been attracted to a firm chest, but the way he filled out the front of his red underwear had my eyes drifting south. Forcing my eyes upward was no better—his nipples had pebbled from the cool air in the house and I couldn’t bring myself to look away.
My breath caught in my throat, and I’d yet to make a sound by the time he’d finally wrestled his sweater off his head, too distracted by the sight in front of me. I eventually pulled my eyes upward toward his face. His eyes met mine and a lopsided grin spread across his lips. Heat flooded my cheeks at being caught staring at him.
Standing in the guest room of my own house, blood rushing south as I watched the new doctor undress was not how I was supposed to spend the night. In an effort to not drool on myself or draw attention to the erection that was rapidly growing in the front of my jeans, I attempted to find words. “I, uh, I brought you a pair of pajamas.”
It took Mark a second to process my words. “Oh. Right. Pajamas. Thanks for letting me crash here tonight, Jeff.”
I was officially the worst host ever, popping a boner for the not-interested-in-relationships, possibly bisexual, new-in-town doctor who just happened to be giggly drunk in my spare room. I hoped like hell my hard dick wasn’t noticeable within the confines of my jeans. “No problem.” My voice cracked on the words, and I mentally kicked myself. I wasn’t a teenage boy. I should not have been reacting that way to Mark.
He swayed unsteadily as he took the sleep pants from my hands, turned around, and dropped his underwear. If I thought his muscular stomach and chest were distracting, they were nothing compared to his ass. His very smooth, very round, very bitable ass.
Fuck. My. Life.
My traitorous cock twitched, and I tried to cover my gasp with words. “I’m going to bed.” I turned on my heel and hightailed it to my room as fast as I could. I hoped that Mark made it into the bed okay because I was halfway to my room before I heard the muffled goodnight he called to me.
The door to my room slammed in my wake, and I rushed to my en suite, slamming that door as well. I needed to get as much space from Mark as I could. I turned the shower on, then stripped my clothes off. The hot water felt heavenly on my skin, but my cock was still aching. Logically I knew I shouldn’t have been so turned on by seeing a man half-naked, or even a bare ass, but no matter what I told my overactive imagination, I couldn’t seem to help it. It felt like my skin was too tight even as I stood under the spray, taking deep breaths and trying to calm myself down.
My heart rate calmed down quickly, but my dick remained hard as a rock. After I’d shampooed my hair, I’d begun thinking about what could have been wrong with Louie in an attempt to make my erection flag. I’d gone through the entire fuel system by the time I realized that all I saw was Mark standing beside my car. My traitorous mind had replaced my broken-down-car issues with a barely clothed Mark. It was impossible to ignore the washboa
rd abs I’d seen and the virtually hairless skin. And in my fantasy, it was all the more vivid.
Standing under the spray, I was mentally undressing Mark, allowing my hands to roam over his body. By the time I’d turned my attention to removing his red briefs, to what I was already sure would be a thick cock, my own cock felt heavy in my grip. Each lathered stroke downward caused my dick to pulsate.
I’d given up on telling myself that my reaction was inappropriate. My mind, and dick, had gone to where they shouldn’t have, and if I didn’t take care of it before getting into bed, my sleep would be fitful at best. I fisted my cock and pumped it a few times. The pressure of my hand and the slick of the body wash created the perfect amount of pressure and pushed me to the edge. Images of Mark—nearly naked—continued to invade my mind. A powerful orgasm was rapidly approaching, and I just barely managed to get the fist of my free hand into my mouth before I screamed out my release. Images of his nipples and ass scrolled through my imagination as the orgasm crashed through me.
Cum shot from my dick and coated the tiled wall before being washed away by the spray. I prayed my fist had muffled my shout of release but the force of my orgasm had my head spinning, so I couldn’t be sure. It took a few minutes for my legs to feel strong enough to support me again and for the fog to clear from my brain. When I removed my fist from my mouth, there were teeth marks on my hand from where I’d bitten down.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I mumbled while washing any remaining cum off my hand. The water began to cool noticeably, and I had to wonder how long I’d been standing in the shower. I forced myself to rinse my cock one last time and make sure all evidence of my orgasm had been washed down the drain, then I shut the water off.
Intense orgasm behind me, I made my way to my bed on wobbly legs and collapsed, still naked, onto it. All I could do was hope like hell that my attraction to Mark was a one-off thing, never to be thought of again.
CHAPTER 6