“I want kids,” Shannon said. “Lots of them. Just not yet.”
“Me too. When I fall in love, I hope it’s as deeply as you and Dad,” Tempest said to their mother. “I have faith that it’ll happen for all of us.” She bumped Sam’s shoulder. “Even you and Ty.”
Sam wondered about that. He could have almost any woman around—but the only woman he wanted didn’t think he was worthy. That painful reality should send him sprinting in the opposite direction, but he was too drawn to Faith, to her honesty, her vulnerability, her intelligence. Damn, she’d gotten to him without even trying.
He looked around, feeling the love of his family, thinking of their taunts and the tough love they doled out like medication when they deemed it necessary. He thought about their unconditional support, their giving nature—to friends, family, strangers. He loved all those things about them and, he realized, those were just a few of the traits that had drawn him to Faith.
He looked out the window at the marina, and like the boats entering the harbor, felt himself changing course. Charting a new path, breaking free from the current that had been his guide for so long he’d forgotten he had a choice, and setting himself free to swim upstream. Toward Faith.
“One thing’s for sure,” their father said as he wiped down the bar. “When love finds each of you, as I expect it will, it’ll change your whole world. Love is a lot like alcohol. You think you want just a little, but once you get your first taste”—he shifted his eyes to Sam—“your first real taste of adult love, the type of love that consumes your every thought. Once you get a taste of that, you’ll do anything and everything for more. You’ll want to drown in it.”
**
MONDAYS WERE ALWAYS busy at the Peaceful Harbor Pain Management Center, and with Cole away on his honeymoon, Faith had even more patients to see. It was after three, and Faith had been running from one patient room to the next without a break since she’d arrived. She was famished. But even the growling of her stomach and the vast number of patients she’d seen hadn’t been enough to distract her from thoughts of Sam. She’d hoped he’d return to Whispers last night, but he never did. After she and Vivian got home, they’d checked the site, and they’d received an anonymous five-thousand-dollar donation. She knew it had to be from Sam. Who else would throw that kind of money at their cause? Vivian insisted he was using it as a ploy to get her into bed. A very expensive ploy. But she wasn’t buying it. Vivian hadn’t seen how sincere he’d looked when he’d offered to write the check.
Conflicting thoughts of Sam had invaded her dreams, and she’d woken up hot and bothered and even more confused than ever. If saying goodbye to Vivian this morning, along with this insanely busy day, couldn’t take her mind off of Sam, nothing could.
She tried to set those thoughts to the side and turned her attention back to her patient. “You can change now, Mr. French, and we’ll see you back in three weeks for a follow-up.”
“Thank you, Faith. I’ll put a good word in for you up front.” He winked, and Faith smiled and shook her head.
“You’d better be careful flirting like that. I doubt Mrs. French would like it.”
He waved a hand. “My Betty knows I’m joshin’.”
“Have a nice afternoon, Mr. French.” Faith left the room, closing the door behind her. She scribbled copious notes and set the chart in the holder by the door.
“How’re you holding up?” Dr. Jon Butterscotch was Cole’s partner, and he was as full of energy at eight in the morning as he was at midnight. Faith had assisted in enough of his emergency surgeries to know. With a mop of blond hair that always looked finger-combed, an ever-present tan, and a smile at the ready for even the most trying of patients, he looked like a surfer playing dress-up in his lab coat. But beneath the youthful exterior was one of the finest brains around—the brain of a man who should be twice his age. Much like Cole, Jon took his job seriously, and he took pride in treating his patients as individuals, not cases, which made Faith respect him even more.
“A little hungry, but other than that, I’m doing great.” Not a day went by that Faith didn’t thank God for her job. She had always wanted to help people, and medicine intrigued her. Being a physician assistant allowed her to enjoy both of those things without the added years and debt of medical school. She’d always thought she’d graduate, settle into a career, and marry JJ, her cheating ex. But life had a way of upending even the best-laid plans.
“You didn’t get lunch?” Jon reached into his pocket and handed Faith a chocolate PowerBar. “You should have told me. You know I always have these on hand.”
“Thanks. I didn’t want to bother you.” She thought about the list she’d started last night for expanding WAC, and her conversation with Lira. “Jon, do you know of any therapists who do pro-bono work? For charity, maybe?”
His brows furrowed. “Not off the top of my head. Do you need to talk with someone?”
“No, it’s not for me.” She didn’t want to try to explain WAC when patients were waiting. “It’s for a friend from out of town. She doesn’t have much money.”
“Oh, in that case, ask Brandy for our network referrals. I’m sure they can send you in the right direction.” Reaching for the doorknob of another patient room, he said, “Good luck finding someone for her, and thanks for doing a great job. I’ll be sure to mention it to Cole.”
Faith couldn’t stop grinning even after he disappeared into the patient room. She’d met enough snotty, egotistical doctors during her clinical rotations to know she really lucked out finding a job with Cole and Jon. She tucked away the compliment and ducked into the kitchen to quickly eat the PowerBar.
Brandy, the receptionist, peeked into the room a minute later. “Faith, you’ve got a walk-in. He said it was urgent and you were the only person he’d see.”
Faith fought to keep her shoulders from slumping. She had patients every twenty minutes for the rest of the afternoon.
“Is he one of Cole’s patients?”
Brandy nodded.
“Sure. Brandy, can you please pull the list of therapists from our referral database for me around the Pleasant Hill area? No rush.”
“No problem,” Brandy said. “Room six. Sorry.” She disappeared down the hall.
I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. Finding the motivation to smile again, she headed toward room six. There was no chart in the holder. Great. She was already behind. Now she'd need to get caught up to speed, too? Pushing the door open, she began her typical spiel.
“Hi, I’m Faith, and I—” Her jaw gaped, her voice lost somewhere between her thundering heart and the heat radiating off the nearly naked man sitting on the exam table, wearing a pair of black briefs and a toe-curling smile. She was going to kill Brandy.
“Sam,” she whispered, then covered her eyes. “Why are you here?” Ohmygod. Don’t look. Do not look again. Her fingers parted and she snuck a peek. She couldn’t help it! He was right there for her to gobble up!
“In your underwear?” She closed her fingers again and slammed her eyes shut.
“Brandy said you usually have your patients undress before you see them.”
How could he be so calm and confident when she could barely remain standing?
“Yes, patients! And they wear gowns! Why aren’t you wearing a gown?”
“And emasculate myself?” He laughed a little. “How would I ever convince you to go out with me after you saw me in a paper gown?”
Breathe, breathe, breathe.
“Come on, Faith. It’s like wearing a bathing suit.”
Men in bathing suits didn’t look like that. Well, except him, of course. This was crazy. How did he fluster her so easily? She was a professional. She could handle this.
But can I handle him?
“Besides,” he said. “I told you I have nothing to hide. What you see is what you get with me.”
Lowering her hand, she looked at him again, feeling her entire body blush. There was a whole lot of him to see. He was gorgeous. Too gorgeous. Too comfortable with himself. His chest was pure perfection, tanned, with just a light dusting of hair, and defined so beautifully she wanted to study it, with her mouth. His scent was intoxicating and making her a little dizzy. His gaze moved slowly from her eyes, to her mouth, her chest, all the way down to her toes, and she felt the sensual inspection as if he’d touched every inch of her.
“God, Sam. Are you trying to turn me into a puddle of mush and get me fired?”
He reached for her hand and tugged her forward. Right. Between. His. Legs.
Holy mother of heaven and earth and anyone else willing to listen, please, please, please let me remain coherent.
“I turn you to mush?” he asked with a seductive spark in his eyes.
Faith breathed deeply. That was all he heard? What about the getting fired part? This situation was getting out of control. She had to take control.
Control of Sam Braden. Even the thought made her hot and bothered.
She forced herself to act like the professional her bosses relied on her to be. My boss. Panic spread through her chest. Drawing her shoulders back and lifting her chin, she forced herself to regain control.