Dr. OB (St. Luke's Docuseries #1)

“Well, it’s actually really peaceful. We’re from northern California, not Hollywood like you see on TV. We love to make day-trips up north to the real Pacific Northwest. Seattle and Portland are some of the coolest towns we’ve ever been to. If you want to go to the West Coast, that’d be our suggestion. There’s a real family feel in the air even though they aren’t small towns.”


Funny thing was, as she spoke to Susie, Melody’s eyes never once left mine.




Slow motion.

The bounce and swirl of her curled auburn hair, the swing of her hips—even the time it took for the long lashes of her eyes to meet and move away again.

All of it seemed to take forever, and yet, the night had gone screaming by like a high-speed train. Two hours of laughing at each other and breathing in the energy of the New York air on the double-decker bus, an hour and a half of pizza and beers at a pub down the street, and the last hour here at this bar, watching and feeling Melody lower her walls and dance with me, over in an instant. But I remembered each moment in vivid, terrifying detail.

The feel of her fingers clenching my thigh as she settled into our tourist ruse, the speck of tomato sauce she licked from the corner of her lips with just the tip of her magenta tongue, and the bounce of her breasts as she jumped in excitement at the beginning of each new song all vied for my attention, only to be pushed out of the way by each and every single new thing she did.

This was the best date I’d ever been on, and by some stroke of luck, I’d managed to keep us in dark enough corners that outsiders were equally in the dark on my identity. It was also the longest, and somehow, I still feared its premature end.

I pulled her closer, inhaling the hints of soft vanilla seeping from her skin, and continued leading our bodies to the rhythm of the music playing inside the bar while silently hoping that I could find a way to stretch this night out longer.





God, this was the best date.

Will was the best date.

The night had been a blur of laughter and Will’s smiles and Will’s beautiful blue eyes and Will’s teasing commentary and… Will. Will. Will.

I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol flowing through my veins or the fact that he was unlike anyone I’d ever met. But five hours into a night alone with him and I never wanted to leave his side. He was sweet and kind, and yet, innately charming in a way that made me want to permanently fuse myself to his lap so I’d always be there to hear all of the things he had to say.

With Will’s hands on my waist and his warm breath on my neck, every single part of me felt good except for the nagging clench in my stomach reminding me our time was nearly up. I wanted to bottle up this intimate moment of dancing with him and keep it forever.

But we’d been dancing for what felt like hours at Chez Noir and, unfortunately for me, my feet were starting to announce their disdain for being in heels.

I needed a break, unless I wanted to end up breaking something.

As the ending beats of Rhianna’s “Love on the Brain” left the speakers hovering over the dance floor and the song ended, I fell forward into his arms.

“Will!” I said with a giggle and leaned in, pressing my lips to his ear to be heard over the music. The close proximity and warmth of his skin against mine sent a shock straight up my spine.

God, he smells good. I bet he tastes even better.

He grinned down at me, curiosity mingling with interest and want in the most intoxicating way.

“My feet hurt,” I complained on a whine, and he laughed softly.

“Should we call it a night?” he asked neutrally, but his expression didn’t match the tone of his voice. He looked disappointed at the thought.

Ditto, Doc.

“Maybe we should close out our tab and grab one last drink?” I suggested, and his face brightened at my words. If he kept looking that happy to be around me, I couldn’t be held accountable for the things I would do.

“Grab a table, and I’ll get the drinks.”

I nodded and he grinned before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to my cheek.

Moments later, we were sitting cozily at a table in the corner of the bar, located conveniently away from the bustling night crowd. He’d gotten the drinks in record time, seemingly as eager to get back to me as I was for him to return.

“Tomorrow night at eight?” he asked into the skin of my neck, an arm draped warmly around my shoulders. I smiled at first—obviously enthralled with even the most basic of things he had to say—but quickly realized I had no idea what he was talking about.

I tilted my head in confusion and asked, “What’s tomorrow night?”

“Our second date,” he declared with a smirk, and I giggled.

I blamed it on the alcohol. One glass of wine and I tended to giggle like a loon. I might have been self-conscious about what I sounded like if Will didn’t look like he liked it so much. I’d never been on a date with a guy so open with his emotions. He wasn’t trying to play some sort of game. Or if he was, it was my new favorite.

“Already looking for a second date?” I teased. “I’m pretty sure I’m still a little busy with the first one.”

“And how is the first one going?”

“Horribly,” I lied with a sly grin. “Probably the worst date I’ve ever been on.”

“I know, right?” He played along. “Between the laughter, the nonstop conversation, and your insanely pretty…everything, I’ve never been more bored in my life.” He paused, running a soft hand up the zipper of my boot and stopping just at the top, the tip of one deliciously long finger tracing the line of skin there. “And don’t even get me started on your legs. Jesus, those things go on for miles. It’s like they never end. Definitely a turn-off.”

God, just that touch made my pussy ache. “I should’ve gone with the sweat pants,” I said shakily, unable to fight the growing arousal with a squeeze of my legs, thanks to his hand now calmly resting on my thigh. If I pulled my legs together now, his hand would get trapped in between.

Maybe that’s not such a bad idea.

“They might’ve made it a little easier for you tolerate me.”

“Oh, yeah, because you’re completely intolerable,” he said on a laugh, his fingertips flexing into the flesh of my thigh and nearly making me moan. But his expression morphed into something much more serious as he used his other hand to slide a lock of my hair behind my ear. “You’re amazing, Melody,” he whispered. “I feel like a real lucky bastard that you found me so irresistible you changed your mind.”

I smiled and bit my lip, completely enthralled by his ability to tease and compliment in one sentence.

He looked down for a moment, and my eyes enjoyed the show, watching him intently and taking in every minute detail that equaled Will. I had never been the type of woman to think a man’s face was beautiful. Masculine? Sure. Handsome? Of course. But beautiful? No way.

At least, not until now.