get used to it. My place, your place—it don’t matter.”
“Don’t you think we’re moving a bit fast? You don’t get the feeling that maybe we should take a step back and just—”
“No,” he snapped, sounding seriously pissed. “Do you?”
“Sometimes,” I replied honestly. “But I’ve been known to enjoy alone time too much, so…”
He pulled back slightly and looked into my eyes. “Is that what you want?”
Now, he sounded hurt.
Aw, man!
“No. I want to spend every moment I have with you, which is weird for me, so maybe that’s why I’m feeling a little overwhelmed. I’m just used to doing things on my own.”
Cradling my face in his hands, he kissed me once more. “Get used to not being alone. I ain’t ever leavin’ you to yourself again.”
“That’s kind of creepy, babe.”
“I’m your creep.”
Even with stopping for some huge coffees and a box of doughnuts I refused to touch, we pulled into the parking lot of The Center with ten minutes to spare. Phil parked the Black Beauty in my designated spot. There was a sign at the head of it that read, Dr. Kenna MacGregor. Phil got a kick out of that.
“Sheri and Jason are gonna bring us food around one o’clock,” Phil told me before shoving half a doughnut in his face.
“Jason’s leaving the house?”
“He’s goin’ a little cray-cray, bein’ holed up in there, yeah.”
Cray-cray? That made me lose it.
Grinning at me, he winked. After a gulp of his coffee, he asked, “What are your coworkers like?”
“Oh, um…Lucy, our receptionist, is a really sweet girl. Well, I say girl, but she’s almost thirty. Very cute. I think she has a thing for Flipper. She nearly shit herself when he walked in that first day. And she went to the concert, which surprised me. She’s really good for the front of the house. The patients adore her. Gavin is fantastic—”
“Fantastic? Do I need to give this man a beatdown?”
“He’s not my type. And I’m not his—”
“Definitely needs a beatdown then. I don’t see how you could not be someone’s type.”
“That’s so Neanderthal-ly sweet. But, yeah, Gavin is fantastic and a really good friend of mine. We went to the same school and graduated together in therapy. When I went on to get my doctorate, he was working his ass off here so that when I was done, we could open the clinic together. He’s a brilliant therapist and certified in acupuncture and manual manipulation, too. He does pretty much everything I do, only without the doctorate.
“Charlotte’s new, and she’s visiting with her pregnant daughter in Seattle. She won’t be back before tonight, so you won’t meet her today. She’s older than the rest of us, in her fifties. She just graduated from the same school Gavin and I went to, and she does a great job. She’s taken a lot of pressure off of us, letting us focus more on specific treatments.”
“Cool,” he grunted around another mouthful of doughnut. “You sure you don’t want one?” He jiggled the box at me.
“Positive,” I replied before sipping on my sugar-free latte.
I spotted Lucy’s little red Toyota pulling into the parking lot.
“Awesome.” I opened the passenger door. “Lucy’s here,” I said over my shoulder and hopped out of the truck.
Phil shoved a whole doughnut in his face and got out on the driver’s side, sucking down more coffee to wash his pastry down.
“Hey, Lucy!” I called out, heading toward her as she exited the Toyota.
She smiled sweetly. “Hi, Dr. MacGre—” She froze, her jaw dropping.
I knew that it was because the enormous Phil fucking Deveraux was coming up behind me.
“Dr. MacGregor?” she squeaked, her eyes growing as large as saucers.
“That’s so cute. She calls you Dr. MacGregor.” Phil chuckled and draped a possessive arm around my shoulders. Extending his right arm out, he tried to shake hands with a near-hyperventilating Lucy.
“Lucy, this is Phil Deveraux—” I started to introduce them.
“Her boyfriend.”
“Yes, my boyfriend. Phil, this is our receptionist, Lucy Travers.”
Lucy weakly took Phil’s hand, her mouth hanging open in a shocked O. I thought I heard her knees knocking together when her hand made contact with his.
“Your boyfriend. Phil Deveraux is your boyfriend.”
“He is,” confirmed Phil in his sexy hot-chocolate voice. “Took him nearly six years, but he wore her down in the end.”
“H-huh?” Poor Lucy looked ready to pass out.
“Just ignore him, Luce. I do. It’s how I can make it through a whole day—”
Phil snorted derisively. “You wish you could ignore me, Baby Girl.”
“You’re Baby Girl, Dr. MacGregor?” she asked weakly.