“Drake, what the hell was that?”

He didn’t have an answer for his behavior. The only thing he knew was the blinding jealousy, the burning sensation in his chest, when he’d encountered the two of them standing so close together. The flowers in her hands, and the way she’d looked at the other man. Despite what Love had said, it was obvious to him that she still felt something for Derrick. Just thinking about it made his stomach clench.

He’d been reckless, confronting Derrick the way he had in front of the staff, his colleagues. It would be fodder for the gossips for weeks, but he didn’t care at that moment. The only thing he’d cared about was putting his fist through Derrick’s face.

“Drake?” Love’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “Talk to me.”

He shook his head, resuming his rapid pacing back and forth. “I can’t right now.”

“Why are you so angry?”

“Why aren’t you angry? He doesn’t even deserve your time, but you gave him plenty of it today.”

She recoiled as if he’d slapped her, her hand flying to her mouth. “How long… What do you think you saw, Drake?”

“It doesn’t matter. You were falling for it, even though you didn’t want to.”

“I wasn’t. I told him to leave, that too much had happened.”

He’d heard her words, but he could read her better than she knew. He knew when Love was wavering, when she was doubting herself and her decision, and when she was attracted to someone. He’d seen the way she eyed Derrick as he approached, the appreciation in her eyes. It had taken every ounce of restraint in him not to kick the retractable banner about cardiac health that he’d cowered behind in order to eavesdrop. Eventually, he hadn’t been able to take it anymore and had stepped forward, if only to let the other man know that Love was off-limits.

“Listen, Love. Whether you believe it or not, he won’t give up. And you know why? Because you gave him an ear, you accepted his peace offering and engaged in a trip down memory lane.”

Realization dawned in her pretty brown eyes. They were eyes that had haunted his dreams in the past week, made him retreat inward to deal with the gamut of emotions he’d experienced since he’d made love to her a second time.

“I told you,” she said. “Everything is different between us. And you promised it wouldn’t be.”

Averting his gaze, he studied the scratch on the tile, the one he and Love had put there months ago when they were moving the heavy table to the other side of the room.

“We have to talk about this, Drake.”

His heartbeat quickened when she grabbed his hand and squeezed. When he looked into her eyes, he knew he was lost. She was right; everything had changed. He couldn’t pretend anymore that he didn’t want her. “I can’t do this right now, Love. Seriously.”

He glanced at his watch. His worst fears had been realized when he’d been relegated to scrubbing in on appendectomies. Before Dr. Leon knew he’d married his daughter, Drake had been on track to scrub in with Dr. Benjamin Porter on an off pump coronary artery bypass surgery. Instead, Love’s father had assigned another less skilled resident to the coveted spot.

Love’s chin trembled and she stared down at her hands.

Guilt slammed into Drake like a Mack truck. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “We’ll talk. Just not here. We can have dinner tonight, and discuss it.”

She bit her lip. “I can cook, if you’d like.”

Drake had managed to avoid being in the kitchen alone with her over the past week. He didn’t think he wanted to take the chance of showing his ass again this soon. “Maybe we can go out to our spot.”

The Mexican restaurant by the mall was their favorite place to eat out. Love was enamored with the gooey queso dip, and he appreciated the strong drinks. He definitely needed a stiff one if they were actually going to have this conversation.

She smiled, and he found himself responding with one of his own. He leaned in, as if he didn’t have any control of himself.

“Drake.” The way she said his name, a mixture of a soft whisper and a groan, made him want to pin her on that table and make love to her right then and there.

“Love,” he said, his voice low and unrecognizable even to his own ears. He swallowed past a lump that had wedged itself in his throat.

“Your phone is ringing.”

He jerked back, pulling his phone off its clip. He’d been so entranced that he hadn’t even felt the vibration. The 911 on the screen was his cue to exit. “I have to go.” Good thing, too. There was no telling what would have happened if they hadn’t been interrupted by the page. “Meet me at the spot at five o’clock?”




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