“Nada, but I have an idea. How do you feel about having a stakeout with me?”
“A stakeout?” Her eyes flash and a smile spreads across her face, making her already beautiful features striking. “Hell yes, I’m down.”
“Okay, we’ll start tomorrow.”
“Good. Tonight, we can go shopping.”
“Shopping for what?” I ask, and she looks at me like I’m crazy.
“We need gear. We need black clothes and a camera, maybe some kind of device that lets us know when someone is coming. I don’t know for sure, but I’m thinking the police supply store will have some stuff we can use.”
“I just wanted us to sit in my jeep and wait until someone came.” I frown, and she lets out a huff of air.
“You have so much to learn.”
“And where did you get your stakeout knowledge?”
“TV.” She shrugs then looks to the left when the bell over the door goes off. “Uh oh,” she whispers as Wes walks in.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” he asks as his eyes come to me.
“Sorry, do you have an appointment?” I ask, tilting my head to the side, studying him.
His eyes go to Kayan and he bends slightly over the desk. He takes the calendar that’s in front of her and looks at it then pulls a pen from the jar that sits on the upper ledge and writes his name in one of the boxes.
“Looks like I have an appointment.” He sets the calendar down.
“Great, follow me,” I mumble, leading him back toward one of the exam rooms. Once we’re inside, I go to the opposite side of the counter from him. “What can I do for you, Mr. Silver?” I raise an eyebrow, using his last name I learned yesterday when we filled out paperwork.
“Fuck.” He runs a hand over his head then down his jaw, which is covered in stubble that makes me want to rub up against him.
No, you don’t want to rub against him, I remind myself.
“I don’t have all day,” I say, making a point to look at the clock.
“I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”
“Really?”
“I came over wanting to see you, and Jax answered the door in a fucking towel, then you in only a shirt. I saw red.”
“I had shorts on.”
“Pardon?”
“I had shorts on under my shirt,” I tell him then wonder why, because it seriously does not matter at all.
“I shouldn’t have said what I said.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.”
“Can you forgive me?” he asks, and I see he’s sincere. I’m sure it looked that way to him, and I’m still pissed, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter.
“Absolutely, apology accepted.” I stick out my hand and he looks down at it, his frown lines growing deeper.
“Fuck,” he whispers, and his gaze comes up to lock on mine again.
“Well, if that’s all, I really need to get to work.” I walk to the door and open it up. “See you around, Wes.” I walk out then head to one of the other exam rooms. I hear Kayan talking as I wait behind the closed door until I hear the front door alarm go off, letting me know he’s gone. Only then do I head back out of the room.
“So, your biker dude just ruined my whole calendar,” Kayan grumbles, and I peek over the counter to see what she’s talking about, and everyday at noon, it says ‘Lunch with Wes’.
“Not happening,” I tell her, and she looks at me doubtfully. “I’m serious.”
“Okay,” she whispers, looking down at the paper, but I can still see the smirk on her lips.
“I need a drink.”
“Yeah, a tall drink of hot biker.”
“Shut up,” I mumble as disappointment floats through my system. Wes was hot and edgy, and obviously a man with issues, so sadly, we were never going to explore things, but that didn’t mean I didn’t wish things had turned out differently.
“Your two o’clock is here.” Kayan says and I come out of my daze mutter.
“Thanks.” Then smile at my patient’s family before kneeling down to greet Cloyed a very hyper Yorkie who makes me wish that men were as easy to understand as dogs.
The rest of the day passes quickly between patients and back work that I have to catch up on. I don’t leave the building until it’s dark outside, leaving Kayan to go shopping alone, which I regret the next evening when she shows me what she picked up.
“I’m not wearing that.” I look at the black full bodysuit that Kayan just pulled out of the bag she set on my bed.
“You are.” She smiles then walks to the bathroom and comes back a few minutes later wearing a matching black bodysuit that is unzipped, showing cleavage, and a pair of black boots that go to her knee, with three-inch heels. Her black hair is up in a high ponytail, and she has put black smudges under her eyes.
“Come on, go get dressed.” She pushes me toward the bathroom, and I go unwillingly then frown when I put on the outfit. I have no idea how I let her talk me into this. I leave my hair down. The bodysuit shows off every single curve and dimple of cellulite that I have. I don’t have a choice but to leave the top unzipped, because my breasts are so large the zipper is likely to bust. When I come out, she’s in my closet and she comes out with a pair of boots I wore once for Halloween. They are basically stripper boots that are shiny and have five-inch heels.