Doctor Charmer (Doctors of Eastport General)

23. Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

Reggie

W e’re really going through with this plan. I would object more, but I’ve had three years to derive a solution and haven’t. Ivy only needed thirty minutes. It still has too much risk for me. A half dozen little things could go wrong, throwing everything into disarray. But we are running out of time.

“Angie says five o’clock. That doesn’t give you much time.” I say, reading the text from Angie. “I can text her back to see if she can make it happen earlier.”

Ivy grips the steering wheel of my car, turning the corner of Baker Street, and I still have no clue where we’re headed. “Are you still underestimating my skills, Dr. Morgan? Don’t you remember you lost our bet in less than seventy-two hours? Don’t hate the game.”

“There’s a world of difference between seventy-two and five. If HR isn’t satisfied by ten o’clock tonight, I’m done.”

“Don’t worry about me. Just get this woman to the diner by five thirty, and we’ll be good.” Ivy deflects her task to mine.

“This would be so much easier if I wasn’t suspended. She’s going to be suspicious by the location.” My interactions with Sarah are few and far between. I keep tabs on her, but she’s always wary of me since I know about her and her relationship with Dr. Harriman. Getting her to meet me at the diner a few blocks from the hospital will be a tough ask.

“I have faith you’ll figure it out,” Ivy says with confidence I find attractive. She turns into a mini-mall parking lot decorated for the holidays. It’s early afternoon of a holiday week, and the lot is nearly full. “Since you can’t go to the hospital and Griffin has officially kissed Chelsea and has told me to stay out of their room, we have a few hours to ourselves.”

“Wait, what? He didn’t tell me. I told him to keep me posted.” I can’t believe how invested I’ve become in the romantic lives of my college patients.

“Didn’t tell you? Did he come to you for advice?”

I nod, and Ivy’s face explodes in laughter. “Can you believe us? I did the same for Chelsea. She was always his match; he just needed his eyes to be opened to what was right in front of him. Why do you think force proximity is a real trope in romance?”

“Wow. Who would’ve thunk?”

“Me. You. Us. Look at us.” Her not-so-subtle hint of this being a romance, the casual mention of love, hangs heavy in the car. I’m enjoying every minute with her, but we’ve barely hinted at a future after Griffin’s dismissal in a few days.

“Where are we?” I deflect, waving my hand to the strip of buildings in front of us. She’s right about me needing a life outside the hospital. Out of the six buildings in front of us, I’ve only ever been in the grocery store and the gift shop.

“A bet is a bet,” she says, pointing to the wide glass-framed building with a neon flashing sign that reads My body, Your body, Everybody. It’s one of those cute names that will become ridiculously out of date within a year.

Ivy has a constant need for movement, but I’m not about to run in circles on one of the indoor tracks like a lab mouse in a tiny maze. I turn to protest, and Ivy twists to me, her thumb hooked on the elastic waist of her sweatpants.

“Is that…?”

She giggles. “Yep, my inappropriate volleyball shorts.” She releases the sweats, the band snapping back and hiding the treasure beneath. “Do you know this is the only indoor volleyball court for thirty miles? Let’s go. I’ve paid a pretty penny for two hours of court time.”

She turns to exit, and I hook her by the elbow. “You didn’t have to do this. I lost the bet. I kissed you first.”

Her hand falls from the door handle, twisting and leaning across the center console, her lips on mine. I’ve lost count of the number of kisses we’ve shared this morning. “Yes, officially, you did. But in my head, I kissed you twenty-two seconds after meeting you.”

She presses another kiss to my lips. “The only thing better than the look in your eyes the first time you saw me…”

She teases. She makes me wait. She is a master at building anticipation and letting my mind race to complete the picture. I wait, and I let my mind paint a dozen wonderful images of what she could mean.

“…will be the look on your face when I rip off these pants and you see me in my shorts.”

I laugh and scoop up the phone from the cup holder. I swipe at it. “My battery is at fifty-four percent. I’m so going to record this for posterity.”

“Mmm. I’m warning you right now, you may not want to do that. Not right away anyway. I won’t be responsible for you dropping your phone and breaking it. In fact, it may be smart for you to sit on the floor to enjoy the view from a safe space. This is something you don’t want to experience behind a screen. You know what they say—it’s never as good as the first time.”