Fuck, my mind was in the gutter for this one, had been since she walked in that exam room and I practically swallowed my tongue when I saw her. It was insane, but she was the one. I knew it. Felt it. Why? Fuck, I had no idea. But I wanted to know why she was so young and a doctor. Why she was prickly about it. Why she remembered exactly where her car was.
“Hello,” she said, her voice soft but as direct as her gaze.
I stood and she had to tilt her chin back to look at me. Her eyes flared wide for a second, unsure after the fun we’d had in the ER, and she licked her lips. Of course I watched her little pink tongue flick out, and I didn’t need my prostate tickled to come.
I wondered if she was afraid of me. Some women were. I had pulled my pants down, a whole fuck-ton too forward, but how the hell was I to know she thought I was a patient?
I was big, tattooed, rough around the edges, probably seven or eight years older. My nose was crooked, my knuckles gnarled from fights and work. My nails, no matter how much I scrubbed, were stained. I wasn’t the clean-cut type—I’d lost that the second I was sent to juvie—but that didn’t mean I would hurt her. No fucking way.
And I wasn’t even considering Hardin in those thoughts. The two of us together in a dark alley would make most men shit themselves.
“Doc,” I said by way of greeting.
“Sam’s fine,” she said, waving her mitten-covered hand.
“Hey… this is Hardin. He came along for the ride. He might be big, but he’s a softy.”
She looked his way, took in all six-foot-five inches. His beard. Heft. Then she glanced back toward the building, her back ramrod straight. She seemed… scared.
“Hey, Sam,” Hardin said. “I heard what happened with Mac, and the story’s made my day. He’s a good guy though. He won’t hurt you. He’s the last man on earth who’d hurt a woman.”
On my mother’s grave.
“Neither of us will,” he continued. “Okay?”
He’d picked up on her nerves, too. I leaned forward a little so our heights were closer, so I could look right into those pale eyes. “Okay?” I repeated.
Sucking in a breath, she nodded.
“Yeah, not okay,” I commented, noticing she didn’t look the least bit settled. Gently I placed my hands on her shoulders, felt the heft of her coat, but then her beneath. Sturdy. Tense. “I apologize for what happened inside. It was a dick move.”
For a second she did nothing, then laughed. “Yes, it was.”
Beneath my palms, I felt her relax just a little. Good, she was able to joke about it. I was the one who’d had his dick out.
“I admit, it was… unusual, what happened,” she continued. “A misunderstanding for both of us, but nothing to be stressed about.”
I cocked my head to the side, saw the tense lines around her mouth. “Then why are you stressed? It’s been all of ten minutes since I had my pants down.”
I wanted to know, to fix whatever shit she had.
She looked at me with those pale eyes. I could see her mind working and wondered if she ever shut it down.
“I ran into an annoying coworker. Had words. That’s all.”
I felt her body tense up as she said that. Heard the snap in her tone. We’d just met, but she was pretty damned easy to read. She wasn’t mad. She was strong, as if her spine were made of steel and she was fortifying it.
That was good and all, her being strong, but some weights were too heavy for anyone to handle alone.
“Do I need to beat the shit out of him?” I asked, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “Or I can get Hardin to do it. He can make a guy piss himself with just a glare.”
Her gaze had drifted to my chest, but at my question she looked up at me again, flicked her gaze toward Hardin.
“You’d do that? You don’t even know me.”
Fuck. She slayed me. Done. Dead. She was actually surprised I’d help her ass. Hadn’t anyone stood up for her before?
I didn’t answer, just tugged her into my chest, wrapped my arms around her. Over her head, I stared at Hardin. His jaw clenched and he nodded. Thank fuck, he was right there with me. He was the touchy-feely one, but I fucking had to hold her.