Page 21 of Blind Date with a #Doctor
“My friends. A few guys from med school and their wives or girlfriends.” He pauses, then adds more carefully, “I want you there.”
Something tightens in my chest. “Okay,” I say, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I’d like that.”
Carter nods, satisfied.
“There’s something else,” I say, setting my coffee down.
His brows lift. “Yeah?”
I hesitate, just for a second, because this is new for me. Letting someone in isn’t going to be easy, but I need to just leap.
Carter is just watching me, waiting, giving me space to say what I need to say.
“My firm is hosting a dinner next Friday,” I tell him. “Big case win. Lots of lawyers, lots of speeches, lots of fancy food. I was wondering if you’d come with me.”
He studies me for a beat. Then he smiles, slow and easy. “I’d love to.”
Carter steps closer, takes the coffee out of my hands, and pulls me against his chest. This just feels right and I’m finally ready to see where it leads.
Chapter Eleven
Carter
I should’ve known bringing Aspen here was a mistake. Not because she doesn’t fit in—because she does. Maybe a little too well.
Watching her laugh at Matt’s jokes, banter with Rachel like they’ve been friends for years, and hold her own against Jason’s ridiculous grilling techniques? It’s doing something for me. I can’t quite name it, but it feels big.
“Your girl’s a natural,” Matt mutters, handing me a beer.
I glance across the yard, where Aspen is playing some ridiculous game of tag with Izzy, Jason’s four-year-old.
Matt smirks, nudging my shoulder. “I’d say it’s time to admit it.”
I grunt. “Admit what?”
“That you’re completely gone for her.”
I don’t answer, because if I do, I might actually say it out loud. I’m not ready to admit it to the world yet.
After dinner, Aspen and I sit on the back porch, plates empty, drinks in hand, the sun just starting to dip below the horizon.
“Alright,” she says, stretching out her legs, her knee brushing against mine. “Be honest. Your friends were taking bets on how long we’d last, weren’t they?”
I smirk, tilting my beer bottle. “Matt definitely was.”
Aspen hums. “And what was the over-under?”
I chuckle. “Three dates.”
She gasps, dramatic and ridiculous. “Three? That’s insulting.”
I take a sip of my beer, watching her over the rim. “Want to prove them wrong?” I ask, voice low, teasing.
Aspen’s eyes darken, just a little, and she tilts her head, studying me like she’s deciding just how much trouble she wants to get into. Then she finally says words I’ve been wanting to hear all day, “Take me home, Reed.”
* * *
Aspen walks in to the house first, barefoot, holding the heels she kicked off in the car, and looks around like she’s seeing my place in a new light. I can’t stop watching her.
