Page 6 of Ten Day Affair
I find my voice and my train of thought as she raises her eyebrows at me, using her eyes to indicate I can leave the way that I came.
It’s so cute that I smile.
“I appreciate your graciousness, neighbor. I realize now that's mine.” I point to the slightly larger house next to hers. “That one’s mine.”
Her gaze shifts, clocking the property next door. “Ahh. That makes sense. You're the fancy pants who bought the house a few months ago?”
She steps forward, extending a hand. “I’m Samantha. I work at Good Samaritan. You were there today, right?”
I take her hand. It’s warm, smaller than I expected. Her grip is confident and sexy as hell.
An electrical current shoots through me the moment we touch. Her breath catches, just a fraction, but I don’t miss it. Her hand lingers. So does mine.
She’s the one to pull back slowly. It's controlled and pensive, like she’s still deciding whether I’m dangerous or interesting.
“Cole,” I say. “And you’re the nurse who?—”
Her brow lifts.
“Doctor,” she corrects, tone dry but not sharp. “But you were close.”
Shit.
“Oh, shit. Sorry,” I say, embarrassed that I assumed she wasn't a doctor.
She draws herself up to her full height. “I am a surgical resident, two years out from completing my residency and becoming a general surgeon. But nurse works, too.”
Her tone isn’t haughty or cold, but she does seem offended.
“My apologies, Samantha. I mean, Dr.—”
“Sam is fine,” she interrupts me, taking two steps away from me.
“Sam. You seem like you know your way around the OR, and I’m sure the surgeon I met, Doctor…” I pause, trying to remember her name, but our meeting was so brief, the name escapes me.
“Grimaldi.”
“Yes. I’m sure she's happy you caught the issue before things went sideways.”
She snorts and then schools her face into something less comical. “Oh yes. She was oh so grateful to have a resident stop surgery while the board was there to view her during aroutineoperation.”
Oversized egos aren’t exclusive to surgeons. I’ve seen my fair share of them in real estate, too. At least most of them were too busy flexing stock portfolios to hold a scalpel.
“What were you and the board looking for?” she asks, casual but not disinterested.
“Routine tour,” I say, borrowing her word. It earns me a half-smile, and damn, she’s even prettier in the moonlight. Hair loose, eyes sharp. I’m ten for ten interested.
“Hmm. Cole, you said, right?”
I nod.
“Well, Cole,” she says, tilting her wine glass. “May I offer you one? Neighborly protocol and all.”
She half-turns like she might grab another, but her eyes flick back to mine, waiting for a reply.
I grin and stuff my hands in my pockets. I should say no. I definitely shouldn’t stay. But I want to.
“That would be the polite thing to do, after all. Since I bit your head off when you stopped by to introduce yourself. No pressure, though.”
