Page 28 of Careless Hope
“Caroline, the Henderson file, please?” Lisa asked with a waiting hand. Efficient as ever, she really was the backbone of the office and I was more and more grateful to have her around with each passing day.
“Right here,” I said, handing it over. “And can you make sure Mr. Jenkins gets his lab results today?”
“Already on it,” Lisa said with a nod, her eyes scanning the waiting room like a hawk eyeing its territory.
As I watched her take care of Mrs. Henderson’s copay, I felt a surge of pride for the seamless way we worked together, ensuring our patients left feeling cared for and heard. Hard work and responsibility were woven into the fabric of my existence, legacies handed down from my father along with this office.
Unfortunately, I was still getting some cancellations. The only good thing was it allowed me some extra time to hydrate between patients. And just maybe read a chapter of that romance book. It was really heating up and I found myself thinking about it any time I had to put it down to get back to real life.
I settled in my office and got lost in the pages of a sex scene. The main male character was kissing down his girlfriend’s neck, leaving a trail of biting bruises. A shiver of excitement raced down my spine. He dipped lower and was just starting to push her panties to the side when I caught movement at the door.
“Dr. Cressley, you have a . . . visitor,” Lisa’s voice cut through my thoughts, her tone an octave higher than usual.
She turned to leave back down the hall and my eyes landed on Walker Anderson, standing out like a sore thumb amid the sterile environment with his rumpled flannel shirt and worn jeans that hugged his hips in a way that was borderline indecent. His cowboy hat was held loosely in one hand, those piercing blue eyes fixed on me.
“Uhh,” I managed eloquently, heat creeping up my neck. “Walker? What are you doing here?”
I shut the book and dropped it into my desk drawer.
“Needed to talk to ya,” he drawled, his gaze unwavering, causing a flutter in my stomach that was both unexpected and entirely inconvenient.
He sauntered into the room and took a seat in the chair across from my desk. His oversized limbs looked out of place inthe tiny chair, but he just leaned back into it, a picture of charm and nonchalance.
“Of course. What can I help you with?”
This was not the setting I envisioned for a private chat with Walker. I had spilled iodine on my lab coat and my hair was a mess. Piles of books lined the floor along the wall, waiting to be put away on a bookshelf I had yet to order. And a stack of files I needed to chart sat haphazardly on my desk. I was normally more organized than this, but the universe was clearly having a laugh at me, making Walker show up when I was at my worst.
The small space suddenly seemed too intimate, filled with the scent of leather and hay that clung to him—a stark contrast to the antiseptic smells I was used to.
“Didn’t mean to barge in on you at work, but figured we needed to hash things out sooner rather than later.”
“Hash things out?” I echoed, my mind reeling. He said he’d think about my request. If he wanted to say yes, he could have called or texted. He was probably coming to let me down gently. Explain that my weird and completely inappropriate request was too much and he wouldn’t be able to help.
What was I even thinking asking him to help me learn how to attract a man? God, that was probably the most embarrassing thing I could have done. My mind was clearly on its way to a nice round spiral, but he still sat in front of me, so I figured it would be best to get this over with as quickly as possible.
“Alright then, let’s talk.”
The way he leaned against the back of the chair, all casual like he owned the place, had me forgetting for a moment that this was my office, not some roadside bar where flirtations were as common as daisy dukes and cowboy boots. I perched on the edge of my seat, arms crossed over my chest.
“Caroline,” Walker started, a hint of a grin lifting the corner of his mouth. “About your request the other night . . . ”
I could feel a blush creeping up my neck. The memory of asking Walker to teach me the art of seduction made my stomach do a nervous little flip. In the harsh light of day, it was far too ridiculous a notion. But then again, I had been desperate.
“Walker, it’s really okay, you don’t have to explain?—”
“I’m in,” he declared, and in my shock, my mouth hung open like a fish.
“Wait, what?”
“Yeah, I’m in. I’ll help you.”
Something akin to relief washed through me, quickly followed by a flutter of excitement.
“Really?” My voice might’ve squeaked just a tad, and I cleared my throat, trying to sound more doctor-like and less like a teenager who’d just been asked to prom. “I mean, that’s great. I appreciate it.”
“Whoa there, Doc. Hold your horses.” He raised his hands, palms out, and his eyes danced with mischief. “I said I’m in, but I’ve got a condition.”
“Condition?” I frowned. What could Walker possibly want from me? I wasn’t exactly known for having much to bargain with, unless you counted medical advice or a good word with the pharmacy.
