Page 29 of Blind Date with a #Doctor
We lose ourselves completely. His shirt? Gone. His pants? Gone. My hands roam his body, memorizing every ridge, every scar, every flex of muscle.
His mouth devours mine, his hands guiding my hips, his body pressing me down onto the table until there’s nothing left between us.
He fills me in one smooth thrust, deep and slow, stretching me until I can’t think of anything but him.
And when he starts moving, when he rolls his hips in that way that makes me see stars, I let go of everything but this.
Him.
Us.
The way we fit so damn perfectly together and the way he whispers my name like it’s a prayer. It’s like I’m the only thing in the world he’s ever needed.
And when we finally fall apart together, when we finally shatter, his forehead presses against mine, his breathing ragged, his arms locked tight around me.
“I love you,” he murmurs, his voice breaking.
I smile, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I love you too.”
The walls between us are gone. This is real. We’re finally where we’re meant to be.
Chapter Seventeen
Carter
Aspen is still catching her breath, her lips kiss-swollen and pink, her dress barely back in place, when I knock on the front door of the bookstore and step aside. The door is unlocked and we walk out hand in hand.
And there they are—Nan, Sally, and Marie. They’re sitting at a patio table, waiting, and looking obnoxiously victorious.
I narrow my eyes. “You locked us in.”
Nan sips her wine, entirely unbothered. “Did we?”
Marie smirks. “Or did fate?”
Aspen groans, burying her face in my arm. “I can’t believe you guys did this.”
Sally grins. “Sweetheart, we did you a favor.”
Nan winks. “And judging by the way you two look right now, I’d say you’re welcome.”
Aspen makes a sound that’s equal parts exasperated and affectionate, but I just shake my head, chuckling. Because honestly? They’re not wrong. I glance at Aspen, watching the way she bites back a smile, the way she tucks herself against me without thinking.
I want to get her out of here and to somewhere where it’s just the two of us. I have something to say. Something that can’t wait.
I kiss the top of her head, then look at the women who, as much as I hate to admit it, set this whole thing in motion.
“Ladies,” I say, “as always, it’s been a pleasure.”
Sally wiggles her fingers in a wave. “Take care of our girl.”
Aspen rolls her eyes but squeezes my hand.
And as we walk toward my truck, I hear Marie mutter, “So when’s the wedding?”
Aspen chokes and I just laugh, because they’re not wrong about that either.
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