Weekend Fling with the Surgeon

“It’s me, McKenzie.”

Ryder’s hands shook. McKenzie was outside his apartment building, wanting to be let inside.

“That’s not a good idea.”

“Ryder, I’m not going anywhere until we talk. Let me in.”

“By the hair on your chinny-chin-chin?” Because her threatening to huff and puff and blow away his best intentions wouldn’t surprise him. She had the power.

“There’s no hair on my chin,” she countered, sounding so indignant he grinned in spite of his inner turmoil.

“The code is seven, seven, six, seven.” Immediately, he regretted giving her access to get into the building.

They didn’t need to be in his apartment. Alone. He couldn’t be trusted to keep a straight mind.

Only when she knocked and he opened the door, meaning to go outside the apartment and suggest they go for a walk, she smiled so brilliantly at him he forgot everything, including how to breathe.

“Hello, Ryder,” she said as she stepped around him and into his living area. “Nice place.”

Closing his apartment door, he turned, blinked at where she was taking in his home. “What are you doing here?”

She gave a lopsided smile. “I’d think that obvious. I came to talk to you.”

“We just talked on the phone.” Noticing what she was holding, his forehead scrunched. “Nice flowers. Are they for me?”

She glanced down at the multicolored bouquet, then laughed. “That would be fitting under the circumstances. Here.”

She held them out toward him, but Ryder didn’t move to take them. “What circumstances? Why are you at my apartment, McKenzie?”

“You aren’t going to make this easy, are you?” She took a deep breath. “Ryder Andrews, I’m crazy about you, miss you like mad and am here to ask you an important question.”

She really had gone mad.

“Will you be my boyfriend this weekend? Only, this time, for real?”

* * *

Okay, so not what McKenzie had planned. At all. She’d thought she had everything straight on what she’d say, but then she’d seen him, and all she’d really wanted to do was throw her arms around him and tell him how much she’d missed him.

“McKenzie,” he began, looking torn. “You know how I feel.”

“Actually, I don’t know how you feel,” she interrupted, waving the flowers at him. “What I know is that because you got hurt in your relationship with Anna, you’re unwilling to have a real relationship with me.”

“Give me those,” he said, taking the flowers from her. “You’re making me uncomfortable.”

“Good.”

“Uncomfortable is good?”

He looked so confused McKenzie almost laughed.

“Absolutely.”

“You’ve lost me.”

But she hadn’t. She could see it in his gorgeous eyes, in the way that they followed her every move. She really did make him uncomfortable in the most wonderful way possible.

“Don’t you see,