lips, and amusement—plus something a whole lot more dangerous—to his eyes.
“Nope. Merely reevaluating our public education system. Are you illiterate or just rude?”
Emmitt glanced at the empty carton on the ground with a big neon pink “Anh’s, Do Not Drink” sticky note stuck to the front of it. “Rude would be putting it back with just a swallow left.” He shifted in the chair, the movement starting a domino effect of ripples from his shoulder muscles all the way down past his abs.
His pecs danced mockingly, and Annie jerked her gaze north to find him smiling. “Now who’s the one being rude?” He tsked. “Objectifying me when I’m in a vulnerable position.”
She snorted. “Please, you knew exactly what you were doing when you decided to park yourself in a chair in the hallway in nothing but your boxers.”
Picking up the blanket, he draped it over his belly as if making an effort, when really all he managed to cover was his right rib and flank, leaving his sirloin and all other loins completely on display. Then he reclined the chair even farther back, folding his hands behind his head in a pose that was so male, it had her lady parts tingling like champagne bubbles on the tongue. “What am I doing, Anh?”
“Trying to rattle me!”
“I have that effect on women.” His voice was rough with sleep—as if he’d spent the earlier part of the night sharing long, hot, drugging kisses.
“Not this woman. I’m not rattled at all,” she lied. “So sorry, your big plan to make me leave won’t work.”
“Actually, I—”
“May I finish?”
“Continue,” he said, looking so unrattled it rattled her more.
“What you did was shitty. It’s not as if my night hasn’t already been crappy enough. You knew I was frustrated and tired and, well—hurt.” The admission caught her off guard, but she decided to own it. “Yes, I was hurt and embarrassed, and to make it all worse, I discovered a stranger was, rudely, eavesdropping on a very difficult conversation. So I went to bed to lick my wounds in private and sleep because, well, because . . .”
“You are frustrated and tired and hurt,” he prompted.
“Frustrated and tired, no longer hurt. Now I’m mad. At you!” She stabbed a finger in his direction.
“Me?” he asked as if finding this all incredibly entertaining.
“Yes, you! I am needed at the hospital very early, and you felt it necessary to come home and slam every cabinet in the kitchen. If you wanted to make a big enough ruckus to wake me, then well done, Emmitt Bradley, well done.” She ended with a mocking slow clap.
“I didn’t mean to wake you. And for that, I’m sorry. I also wasn’t aware you had to work early, or I would have been quieter.”
Admittedly, she was a little thrown by his sincere apology. “I don’t actually have to work early. One of my patients is going in for gallbladder surgery tomorrow and she doesn’t have any relatives on this coast, so I offered to be there when she woke up.”
“Do you offer this kind of bedside service to all your patients?” he asked softly. No teasing, no goading, and absolutely no boyish innuendo. Just a tender look in his eye that she hadn’t seen before.
“Just the special ones,” she said, but didn’t move, a sudden shyness taking over.
He let her comment hang in the air, then gave her the tiniest of smiles, which had her looking away.
“As for the cabinets, again I apologize. I came home with a splitting headache, and since all my things, including my painkillers, were locked in the bedroom, I went in search of my backups, which used to be over the sink. Imagine my surprise when I found a small warehouse of scented candles in their place. It seems while I’ve been gone, someone’s reorganized my kitchen.”
“Oh,” Annie said, now aware of how furrowed his forehead became when he spoke or moved, as if tensing it in anticipation of pain. Had she completely misjudged the situation? “I thought you were just being a jerk.”
“I’m surprised, Goldilocks.” He placed an affronted hand to his chest. “I took you for someone who looked beneath the cover before passing judgment.”
It was the second time he’d said as much tonight, which had her reconsidering if, perhaps, she had been hasty in labeling him a self-absorbed playboy. The playboy part was true, but the other part? She wasn’t so sure anymore.
“Seriously? Look at you, sitting here like the big bad wolf, blocking my