The Best Next Thing

“Wait. Hold on,” he lifted his head to peer into her face. “What? You’re a chiropractor?”

“Yes. But I’ve never practiced on anybody outside of the university clinic. I married straight out of university, and even though I went into marriage with Blaine thinking I’d set up shop after a year or so of wedded bliss, he needed to have control over every aspect of my life. And allowing me to have a career would have afforded me a measure of independence that he did not want me to have. I was young and stupid and, after a while, much too terrified of him to defy him.”

“You’re a chiropractor? A fucking doctor? And you’re working as my housekeeper?”

“I mean, some would argue chiropractors don’t hold medical degrees so they’re not technically doctors.”

“You fix people’s bones,” he rejoined. “You’re a doctor.”

“That’s oversimplifying it. Anyway, I think what I’m trying to say is that my resignation will probably be effective as of the day your stay here ends.”

“Will you go back to it? Chiropracting, I mean? Can you? After what? Six years of not practicing? Is that allowed?”

“Despite my fear of the repercussions, I did hang on to my practice number. It meant attending seminars and at least one conference while we were married. I lied to Blaine about where I was going on those days. And the conference I managed to attend was within driving distance, and happily fell on a weekend Blaine was away on a fishing trip with the church youth.

“The prospect of being caught in that lie was terrifying, but absolutely worth the risk. I fought hard to hang on to that number and everything it represents. Blaine controlled so many aspects of my life…but that was the one part of me I wouldn’t let him have. I’ve remained up-to-date on techniques and the latest innovations. And I’ve also been studying for a clinical competency test. I don’t know when, or if, I’ll take it… but I’ve been studying for the last year. The exam will test my knowledge and suitability to practice after such a long absence from the field.”

He didn’t say anything, and she propped her chin onto her hand to better see his face. His expression was inscrutable, and he remained mute for a moment while he stared fiercely into her eyes.

“You’re so fucking brave. And so incredibly beautiful,” he murmured, his face softening as he tugged her up for a sweet kiss. Not saying anything further about what had basically amounted to a verbal resignation.

They lay like that for a while, her head on his chest, his hands stroking her back.

“Do you need to take a nap or grab something to drink?” The question came some minutes later. “Perhaps have a snack? Or are you ready for round two?”

His accelerated breathing made a liar out of that insouciant drawl.

She laughed and dragged a thigh over the erection that had not quite waned since “round one”. “I probably won’t fade away from hunger or thirst just yet. So why don’t we do something about this chronic swelling you have over here, sir?”

He chuckled and covered her lips with his. And for the next forty-five minutes all talk of a serious nature was suspended.

“Do you have to leave?”

“You sound like a sulky little boy,” Charity teased, and then automatically tensed. Sometimes, it crept up on her, that instinct for self-preservation. The feeling of unease that never quite left her. The lizard brain that reminded her that teasing a man could result in swift and violent backlash.

But this particular man laughed, his eyes wrinkling attractively at the corners. “I know. Sulky and selfish, yeah? I’ve had you to myself for the last two days. I’m sure you must be bored out of your mind by now. You definitely need to go out and have some gal pal fun.”

Her instances of fear and hypervigilance were decreasing by the day. Because of Miles’s good-natured responses to statements from her that would have resulted in swift and violent reprisals from Blaine.

“You know you don’t bore me, Miles.”

No. He charmed, seduced, challenged, and interested her. But he definitely did not bore her. The last couple of days had been filled with fantastic sex, sure. But she had also laughed with him, played with him, walked, swam, and talked with him. She had fallen in like with him a while ago…but that like was deepening, becoming less tenuous and more substantial.

And that scared her, because she didn’t want to want more from him. This was enough.

But it was starting to feel like too little.

She was relieved that she had committed to spending the afternoon with Lia McGregor today. It would afford her some much needed breathing room. Time to think, regroup, figure out what her next move should be. Being around Miles twenty-four seven was clouding her judgment. She needed to find some clarity, and she could only do that when he wasn’t around to distract her with his body, or his wicked sense of humor, his big sexy brain, and his kind, generous nature.