Doctor Daddy (Dark Daddies 2)

I bite my lip. “No,” I say.

“Liar. You like a little bit of danger. That’s why you were running down those stairs.”

I stare back into his eyes. “I was late for work.”

“I’m sure you were.” He steps close, one hand on my hip, the other tilting my chin to look up at him.

He kisses me. I didn’t expect it, but it feels really good. I melt into that kiss, returning it with force, tasting him on my lips and tongue. I forget all about my grandmother, all about the hospital.

There’s just Dr. Sexy, kissing me on a street corner.

He breaks it off a moment later. “I’ll see you soon,” he says, and strides away.

I stand there, a little stunned. What the hell just happened?

I finally gather myself and call an Uber to take me home. I don’t trust myself making the walk right now, not when I’m so high on that kiss.

I can still feel it on my lips the whole way home. All I can think about is that damn sexy doctor and his amazing hands and his incredible lips and all the awful, very unethical things I want him to do to me.4AidenPatient after patient rolls past all through the next morning.

Sore throat. Aching back. Broken arm. I feel like I’m just a fucking construction worker or something. Not like there’s anything wrong with working construction, but I got into medicine for a mental challenge.

I got into this for the puzzle.

Mostly though, being a doctor is about listening to people and prescribing the normal things. More rest, better diet, more exercise. It’s amazing how few people fucking exercise then wonder why their bodies are falling apart.

Patient after patient. I’m stuck in the damn clinic, wasting my damn talents, but it’s okay. It’s my fucking job, and I’m helping people.

Still, I wish I could help people that are a little more interesting.

I’m in a shit mood by the time I end my clinic shift. I head into the main hospital and start to check in on my patients. Mr. Gray has a rare form of cancer that I diagnosed based on the color of his stool. Mrs. Stevens has this insane autoimmune disease that most people thought only affected children. These are the kind of puzzles I love, although once the diagnosis is made, it becomes a lot less interesting.

Still, I do my thing. I go to their bedside, I check their chart, make sure they’re doing okay. It’s what I do. At the end of the day, I want to see these people leave this hospital alive.

By the time I get to Dot’s room, I’m fried. I can’t pretend otherwise. I’ve been working for eight hours now and I have at least another two before I can head home to unwind. And unfortunately for Dot, she’s not an interesting case, despite that other idiot being unable to figure her out.

I push open the door to her room and glance over at Ruby. For a second, I feel my day brighten, or at least I feel one single bright spot in an otherwise uninteresting world of gray.

This is how it goes for me sometimes. I can feel the darkness in this place, all the death and the sadness and the sickness, and sometimes it gets to me. I try and keep it at bay with the puzzles and saving lives, but it doesn’t always work out.

I pick up Dot’s chart and flip it open. I frown a little bit as I check her numbers.

“Been coughing more?” I ask her.

She shakes her head. “Good evening to you too, Doctor.”

I frown a little, raising an eyebrow. “Hi, Dot.”

“No more than usual.”

“You sure?” I grunt.

“Not that I’ve noticed,” she says.

I narrow my eyes. “Are you sure, Dot?”

“I don’t think she’d lie to you,” Ruby says, but I just ignore her.

Patients lie. That’s what they do.

It’s my job to see through their bullshit.

“Dot,” I push.

She frowns a little. “Well, maybe…”

I sigh. “That’s the sort of thing you need to tell me.”

“Why? I feel so much better.”

“Everything is important,” I say to her, maybe harsher than I intended. “Keep nothing back from me. I want to see you get out of this place alive.”

She frowns at me. “Well, that’s a little much, isn’t it?”

“No,” I say, dropping her chart back in place. “A nurse will be with you shortly.”

I leave the room, bristling slightly. I don’t really know why. Maybe it’s just the bad mood I’ve been in, or maybe it’s because I can see an inkling of trouble on the horizon.

I’ll admit it, I’m a little biased in this Dot case. I should be more impartial, more distant, but I can’t help it.

I want to make sure Dot survives this. I like her and I like Ruby. Hell, I like Ruby a lot.

I don’t make it very far down the hall before I hear footsteps behind me. “Hey, hold on a second.”