Dr. Fake It - A Possessive Doctor Romance

“I have to pick up the rings.”

I felt a strange sensation in my gut. “Right, the rings.”

“I’ll leave you some money.” He took out his wallet and placed a stack of twenties on the nightstand, and placed a credit card on top of that. “Go buy yourself clothes. I think you need some, right? Since you left most of them at your place?”

I nodded a little. “That’d be nice, honestly.”

“Go ahead. Go nuts, treat yourself. I can afford it.”

I gave him a look. “Are you sure? You’re not going to add this to my bill?”

“I promise. I’m a single guy and I’ve been a doctor for a few years now. I’ve got a shitload of money stashed away, more than I need.” He laughed and walked past me, then lingered at the door. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sure. Where should I meet you?”

“Down in the lobby in two hours.” He checked his watch. “You have my number if you need anything.”

“Right.” I wanted to say something else, maybe to thank him for all this—but I was still skeptical, still worried that this kindness was only another way for him to control me and take me and own me.

He left the room and shut the door behind him, leaving me alone.

I considered taking the money and running. I could disappear, use his card for a little while, get more cash, then ditch it. I could start a new life somewhere and be someone completely different. I could live in the desert and grow cacti in my yard, or I could wrangle cattle out in Montana, or herd buffalo, or plant apple trees.

But then I remembered my mother in the coma, and I knew I’d never leave her alone like that, never ever. So I went in to the bathroom, washed my face, then went shopping.* * *Two hours later, I stood in the lobby wearing a brand new dress from Givenchy—a long, black evening dress with a semi-sheer pleated skirt that hung loosely down toward my ankles and a neckline that plunged almost down to my navel. I caught more than a few looks from men and felt insanely exposed, but I loved the dress, loved how beautiful it made me feel, and plus, it’d cost a fortune.

I felt strange wearing white to this wedding, but black felt okay.

I spotted Gavin after a few minutes of waiting. I sucked in a breath as he approached. He wore a black tuxedo, though I had no clue where he’d gotten it, and looked impeccably groomed, his hair parted and combed back. He smiled at me and I felt a thrill as his eyes moved down my body, taking in my chest, staring at me with clear relish.

“You look good,” he said, stopping a couple feet in front of me.

“You like it?”

“I really do.”

“Good, because you paid a lot for it.” I grinned at him and held out the credit card.

He laughed and waved me off. “Keep it for now.” He offered me his arm and I took it. “Ready to get married?”

I felt strangely sick and only nodded, not trusting myself to speak. We walked through the lobby and out front where a car was waiting. It took us down the Strip, past lights and showgirls and people, so many people, hordes of them crawling from casino to casino, existing in the always-lit, always-running netherworlds of gambling and sin and excess. I felt so small watching them live their lives, each of them unique but still melding into the collective, I felt so insignificant and absurd, at least until Gavin reached out to wrap his fingers in mine. I didn’t even realize how strange and intimate the gesture was at first until he turned to me and took a ring box from his jacket.

I pulled my hand away. “What’s that?”

He flipped the box open. The ring was simple: gold band with a single, gorgeous, multi-faceted diamond in the center. “I figured we need to make this realistic, right?”

I stared at the thing. “That must’ve cost you—”

“Three months’ salary.” He took my hand and slipped it on. It fit, though it was slightly big. “Three months’ salary for me is a lot.”

I stared at it, chewed on my lip, then laughed at the absurdity of it all. “I love it.”

“Good. We’ll get it properly sized back in the city.”

We rode to the chapel in silence. The ring felt foreign against my skin and I kept staring down at it.

The chapel itself was small, white, with a peaked roof, and an absurdly green lawn. The car parked and we headed inside. An old, fat man in a black suit stumbled out of the front door as we approached, followed by an equally old woman in jeans and a t-shirt. They hugged, kissed, held hands, and the guy grinned at us.