Page 105 of Doctorshipped
I lean forward and pick my phone up off the coffee table.
“One fifteen?” I yawn, as if seeing the time made me aware of how late it is. “Doctor Peppers, you are a very bad influence on me.”
“Am I now?”
Oh, yeah. Did I mention the flirting? The man knows how to flirt. Who knew? He swears he has no game. Whatever. He has more game than Hasbro.
“You are. A horrible influence. I’m up past my bedtime.”
His face turns serious. “Are you tired? Can you drive home safely?”
“I have to. I’m not staying here.”
“I could drive you. Dad’s in the house with Fee.”
“I’ll be okay.”
He raises his arms overhead and stretches in this powerful, but lazy way. I’ve never seen him so relaxed. It’s like this whole other side to him.
“I’d better go, though.”
He nods, then he leans toward me and gently runs his palm down my hair. “Thank you for staying.”
“Thank you for having me.”
He wags his eyebrows.
“You don’t have to keep waggling those, you know. I know they are there. I get to ogle them whenever I want.”
He pops out a quick laugh. “Ogling my eyebrows.”
Then he leans in and places this soft, warm, lingering kiss on my lips. It’s a kiss that isn’t intended to lead to more. But, it’s kind of like eating one Oreo. You plan on that one. You do. And then the rest of the Oreos just call out from their orderly little spots in that plastic tray, and it would be almost criminal not to have a few more.
Our kiss deepens, and then softens. I place a palm on Grant’s chest.
“Right. You need to go.”
“Yep. Still me. Still need to go.”
Grant stands and extends me his hand. We lazily stroll toward the front door in our little personal cloud of bliss with our fingers interlocked.
When we’re right at the threshold, Grant looks at me with a seriousness to his face.
“I want to take you out. And we didn’t even talk about what to tell Fiona. Are you okay leaving things open-ended until we get a chance to talk again?”
“I’m fine. I’m pretty sure you aren’t finished kissing me.”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever be finished kissing you.”
Sweet things. Such sweet things. This man is full of surprises, and I am here for it.
“Well, then. I’d better go rest and get my strength for all these kissing marathons in my future.”
I blush as soon as the words are out of my mouth, but when I muster the courage to look at Grant, he’s smiling that full smile—the one with the dimple.
We step out on the porch, then Grant walks me all the way to my car. He holds the door open for me, and I slide past him to sink into the driver’s seat.
“I want to tell Fiona soon. Very soon,” he says earnestly.
