Page 4 of Accidental Doctor Daddy

This low hum of something guarded. Wounded. That quiet, flirty deflection she gave me at the bar had weight to it—like it was built over something raw and still healing.

She was nursing a broken heart.

I’d bet my Rolex on it.

She was also way too young for me.

And while I should’ve left her alone—chalked this up to bad timing and sat my ass back down with a new drink—I didn’t.

I wasn't used to being brushed off. I was older—I got that. But I wasn't exactly unpracticed when it came to reading a woman’s interest. And that look she gave me at the bar? That breathless little “yes” before she shut herself down?

That wasn’t indifference.

She wasn’t just beautiful. She was a mystery. A challenge wrapped in curves and contradictions. And I’d never been good at walking away from something that intrigued me.

I tossed back the last of my gin and tonic, stood up, and brushed the sand from my shorts. My shirt was still damp, clinging to me where she’d spilled that cocktail—but I didn’t give a shit.

She’d walked away.

So I was going to follow.

The beach was quiet where she’d gone—farther down from the bar, where the torches thinned between the palm trees and the only light came from the moon rippling across the waves.

I spotted her silhouette ahead, the hem of her dress catching the breeze like it wanted to misbehave.

God, she was stunning.

I caught up slowly, not wanting to spook her.

“Thought you said goodnight,” I called, my voice easy, low.

She turned, just enough for her profile to catch the moonlight. “I did.”

I gave a lazy shrug. “Didn’t sound very convincing.”

She looked at me for a long beat, lips twitching. “What are you doing, Dom?”

“Walking.”

“With me?”

“If you’ll have me.”

A soft laugh. “You always this persistent?”

“Only when I see something I really want.”

That earned me a look—half skeptical, half intrigued.

“Tell me,” she said, “is this your thing? Hit on younger women in paradise and hope they say yes before they sober up?”

I grinned. “Sweetheart, I don’t need paradise to get a yes. But I’ll admit the moonlight helps.”

She snorted and kept walking, but she didn’t tell me to leave. So I kept pace beside her, hands in my pockets, sand soft under my feet.

“How young are we talking, anyway?” I asked.

“Too young for you,” she said, teasing.

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