Doc (Club Alias #7) - K.D. Robichaux Page 0,48

mouth to speak, but then I barrel through the rumbling water and snatch the cell out of his hand, sitting my ass down on his lap.

“Baby sister, mine. How are you this lovely afternoon? How’s my niece growing?” I ask her, taking a breath before I go jumping down her throat.

“Oh! Um. Astrid? Baby is good. Eight weeks to go. Why are you calling from Doc’s phone?” she asks.

“We’re in the hot tub, and I didn’t have mine out here,” I reply simply.

There’s a pause. “You’re in the hot tub. With Doc? Like… together?”

“Wha-Whaaat?” I hear my brother-in-law sing in the background. “Brown chicken, brown cow! Getcha some, Dr. D!”

Neil rolls his eyes. “None of my names start with a D, so that makes no sense.”

“Short for Dr. Doc, bro,” Seth responds, and Neil shakes his head.

“Anyway, Twy. Neil won’t tell me anything about your therapy because of doctor/patient blah-blah-blah, and I demanded him to call you and get your approval to tell me,” I explain.

There’s a choking sound, and then, “You demanded Doc to call me?”

“Atta girl, As-trid!” Seth whoops.

Twyla sputters, and then she finally gets out her panicked question. “What is happening right now? Are we in the Twilight Zone?”

“Fuck, I love it when you use pop culture references,” Seth says dreamily.

I give her a rundown to catch her up so we can move this along. “Long story short, I had a minor breakthrough, Neil and I are… in some sort of relationship we haven’t yet put a label on—” He lifts a brow at that. “—I’m a permanent resident of this estate now, and he’s going all shrinky on me in the hot tub.”

“Brooo, you using your shrinky voice on my sis-in-love?” Seth asks disappointedly, completely skipping over the Neil and me being together thing.

Neil growls, and my pussy clenches against his thigh. “I was very purposely not using any type of therapist-like voice on Astrid while we were simply playing a game of 20 questions.”

“Hold the hell on a second!” my sister yells, and it makes me smile. “You… you had a breakthrough, Astrid? What… what does that mean?”

My face goes soft at the hope in her voice. “Endorphins, little sister. Endorphins are a powerful thing.”

“Fuck yeah they are. How do you think I got this sexy? That runner’s high, baby!” Seth inserts, and I shake my head and grin when Twyla shushes him.

“And now you and Doc are… an item?” she prompts.

“Come on, doll. That’s like, the least shocking thing out of all of this. Ain’t no girl gonna be able to resist my man Doc. Especially living under his roof. Have you looked into his dog’s eyes? I’d marry Doc myself just for Scout boy,” Seth answers for me, saying the Aussie’s name in a baby voice.

“I swear to God, I’m going to lock myself in the bathroom if you don’t hush and let Astrid speak,” Twyla tells him, and I hear a pouted “Fine” farther away from the phone.

“Well, yes. As Seth so eloquently put it, I finally gave in to my feelings I was suppressing for Neil… and his dog.”

Neil pinches my ass and I let out a squeak, glaring into his eyes.

“But anyway. We got on the subject of my books and how BDSM novels have been my favorite genre for years, and um… you know, the stuff that happened with Brandon—”

“That mother—” Seth starts to growl, but the very distinct sound of Twyla slapping her hand over his mouth cuts him off.

“—when I spoke to my ex about what the books were about. And anyway, one thing has led to another, and he asked me if I’d spoken to you about your therapy and whatever followed at the club.”

There’s silence on the other end, and I give her a minute, thinking she’s probably rustling up the courage to tell me about the things she’s tried at Club Alias. But then…

“Ah, doll, come here.” Seth’s voice is soft, and I hear movement, like he’s pulling her in for a hug.

“Twy?” I prompt, my brows furrowing.

She sniffs loudly, her voice full of tears when she answers, “I’m here, Astrid. I’m…”

I… am an asshole. “Oh my God, Twy. I’m so sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t even think about how you would feel bringing up everything that happened last year. Shit, I feel like such a bi—”

“No!” she interrupts. “No, sis. It’s not that. I’m all good there. It’s the pregnancy hormones.”

I lift my brows at that. The woman has actual scars from what

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