Promises Part 4 (Bounty Hunters 4)

“I certainly hope you’ll get that additional experience soon. I look forward to seeing you again, Nurse Hamilton.”

“Um, Sway. Calling me Sway is fine, Dr. Dominick.”

Sway watched keen gray eyes study him for long seconds as if he was the good doctor’s latest, most interesting case. Finally, Dr. Dominick’s bow lips curved upwards, “And James works just fine for me, Sway.”

Sway stood in the middle of the hallway, while the head of Nephrology made his exit. The man who’d co-created with Dr. Chauncey, and helped fund the hospital’s new Living Donor Kidney program had just asked for Sway to simply call him James, as if he was just another guy who worked there. Other professionals noted Dr. Dominick as he walked, recognizing him immediately. The men were respectful and maybe even a little envious of him, of his prestige. And the women, the women were simply captivated. The eligible bachelor moved with a confidence most doctors possessed, but he lacked the annoying air of superiority that usually came with it. That wasn’t his personality, at least from what Sway could tell and from what he’d heard. Dr. James Dominick was brilliant, kind and very rich. The physician trifecta.

It took him a couple of seconds to come out of his stupor. He blinked down at the now disorganized stack of papers in his hand as if the answer to his question might be amidst the students’ schedules.

Had the Dr. James Dominick been flirting with him? He wasn’t sure of the doctor’s sexuality, he kept that part of himself personal and strictly confidential. Maybe James was gay and interested. Was that what Sway wanted?

No.

Well, what the hell do I want?

The thought of a silent bounty hunter came to mind. Sway pulled out his cell phone.

“Brian, Dr. Horne is ready for you,” the petite receptionist called out to him.

He nodded his thanks to Kelly and opened the only other door in the office. He’d been going there so long, she’d stopped referring to Brian so formally, especially after his and Dr. Horne’s relationship had grown into more than just patient/therapist. He considered him a friend, a confidant. He’d seen so many different psychologists since he’d been honorably discharged six years ago and all of them had rubbed Brian the wrong way… all except Colton.

“Hey King, come on in, man. Wasn’t expecting you until next week.” Colton came around his large oak desk, with his permanent cup of black coffee and white legal pad, to sit in the wingback chair across from the two-piece sectional. Brian made himself comfortable on the chaise lounge and leaned back.

Colton sighed lightly. “And you’re getting comfortable too. Wow, I figured this emergency appointment was big, so I wore my big boy pants. See how professional I look for you today.”

Brian couldn’t stop the ridiculous shake of his head and the amused smirk when he looked at his therapist’s dark tan slacks instead of the usual Adidas track pants. Colton spent so much time at the gym that athletic wear felt just as comfortable as his Navy uniform once had been. Brian didn’t care what Colton wore as long as he counseled him the same; and most of his ex-services patients no doubt felt similar.

Brian gave him an unenthusiastic thumbs-up for the dressing effort, but instead of accepting that, his doctor scowled. “I had to iron these and all I get is a piece of a thumb. See when I bother again.”

Brian huffed a genuine laugh. Colton never ceased to make him smile before they even started talking, no matter how Brian was feeling. He saw the smile lessen and Colton’s light eyes turn serious. Brian rotated his head and stared out of the large second story window onto downtown Atlanta, watching as people ambled about their day between tall buildings, going to and fro. People-watching was something he’d done since he was boy, before it even had that name. Before they called it that, Brian was just considered a staring creep, a boy with an eye problem. It was always in him to watch and observe. He lasered in on a man walking alone, his head down and feet dragging. Brian wondered if he had normal life. Had he just gotten bad news? No. This hurt looked bone deep. Was he riddled with heartache and loneliness? Maybe the man in the blue blazer was on his way to see his own therapist and work out his own shit. Brian frowned at the identical expression of melancholy on his face, reflecting Brian’s own feelings.

“What’s so interesting down there, King?” Colton finally asked, after several long moments. He never rushed Brian into anything, but he knew his friend could see the heaviness of whatever had brought him there today bearing down on him. The only way for Colton to help him was for Brian to start communicating. Colton was a lot of things, but most of all he was patient. There’d been more than a couple of sessions in the beginning where Colton had literally let Brian sit there for an hour and not communicate a single word only to tell him ‘great session’ at the end and ‘see you next week’.