Paging Dr. Hot (14 page)

“Don’t ask,” I mutter, grumpy and put out. Scout nudges my hand for attention, so I oblige him by scratching behind his fluffy ears.

Harrison pats my slumped shoulders with his big hand. “That bad?”

“Yes, but I’d rather not talk about it,” I say, wincing inwardly. I wish I could tell Harrison everything that happened and get his male perspective, but I don’t. We bonded yesterday when I learned a lot about his childhood after our jog. But I don’t feel comfortable discussing my love life with him. It’s too weird.

“Have you eaten yet?” he asks, interrupting my musings.

“No, we were going to have a picnic on the boat, but something came up.” I make a face. “Anyway, I’ve lost my appetite.”

“Come to my place. We’ll open a bottle of wine and have our own picnic,” he says, green eyes crinkling at the corners.

“How can I resist such a nice invitation?” I smile at him and my mood lightens.

As we ride up the elevator side by side, I’m thinking I’m glad I ran into Harrison.

Harrison’s apartment is a lot more spacious than mine. The wide, unobstructed view of the bay is the first thing that catches my eye as I enter. The décor is typical single male style: wide screen panel TV, big circular tan leather couch and sports memorabilia.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get us some snacks.” Harrison heads to the kitchen with Scout at his heels.

I notice the collection of framed photographs of his travels on the wall, particularly of China. Yesterday in the park, he told me he had trekked across the Great Wall of China. I turn away when I see a picture of him grinning as he parasails, his athletic body dangling in mid-air.

There are many things I like about Harrison, stuff he told me about himself that made me realize he’s someone I want to build a friendship with. He loves thick steaks medium rare with a good Pinot Noir…his favorite color is green…he loves children and animals and he abhors cruelty…he’s a Taurus…and he doesn’t have patience for people who “bullshit” and waste time being negative. Cool stuff like that, but I can’t wrap my head around the fact that he’s a daredevil who loves extreme sports.

I perch on the edge of the leather couch and listen to him talking to Scout as he fills his bowl with dog food. I hear water run while he washes his hands. Sinking back against the plush leather, I close my eyes and try to erase tonight’s debacle as I listen to him putter around his kitchen.

When Harrison enters the room, his brawny arms are balancing a thick wedge of cheddar cheese and a hunk of hard salami, a box of Triscuits, paper napkins and a bottle of Pinot Noir with two wine glasses.

“Mmm, looks good,” I say. “I just got my appetite back.” And not only for food…Harrison looks delicious.

He smiles. “Good.”

I help him unload the stuff on his coffee table and wait while he sits beside me and opens the wine bottle.

“I’m impressed that Scout hasn’t come up begging for treats. I should bring Romeo over to learn some manners.”

“Anytime you like.” Harrison hands me a glass of wine.

I take a sip and close my eyes, allowing the wine to swirl around my tongue and roll down my throat. “Ahhh, so good.” When I open my eyes, Harrison is watching me with an amused lift of his brows.

“What?” I ask.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Maybe later.” I look away and take a long sip of wine.

Harrison puts a slice of cheddar on top of a Triscuit and hands it to me. I watch him devour a cracker with one bite of his strong teeth.

“I like your place. It’s inviting.” I’m feeling more relaxed than I have all evening.

He refills my glass. “Put your feet up and get comfy.”

“Better not give me much more. I’m a lightweight.” Slipping off my sandals, I curl my feet underneath me and take another sip of wine.

Harrison hands me another cracker.

“You don’t have to feed me,” I protest, giggling. I glance at my near-empty second glass of wine. Slow down…it’s wine, not water. No wonder I’m giggling for no reason. I pop the Triscuit in my mouth. By now my senses are so heightened that I relish every crunchy, salty bite. I take another sip of wine and incline my head. When I peer up, my gaze locks with Harrison’s dark green eyes and the air sizzles between us.

“Feeling better?” He takes the wine glass from my hand and places it on the table. Reaching over, his thumb whisks a crumb off the side of my mouth.

“Yes.” My voice comes out breathless as he holds my gaze.

“Good.” He smoothes my hair away from my face. Mesmerized, I watch the play of muscles underneath his tanned forearm. He keeps his touch light against my jaw, stroking it with the rough pad of his thumb and it’s all I can do not to purr like a kitten.

A soft moan escapes my lips. Harrison’s touch is just what the doctor ordered, especially after Alex’s rejection.

A rousing coil of desire unleashes in my lower belly as Harrison’s big hand glides along my neck leaving goose bumps in its trail, while his free arm draws me toward him. I nestle against his hard chest and inhale deeply, savoring his clean, male scent as I tilt my face up. Harrison’s mouth trails across my brow and my cheek, kissing my sensitized skin softly. His velvety lips close over my earlobe and I shiver as more goose bumps prickle my skin. I open my mouth and welcome the sweet plunder of his tongue and moan against the deliberate invasion as he tastes me.

“You taste delicious,” he murmurs. His broad hand cradles the back of my head, anchoring me to him for slow, deep kisses that make me mindless with wanting him. I am so hot for him, I squirm and try to get as close as I can. I hold his face and pull away long enough to kiss the rasp on his strong jaw. He resumes kissing me, exploring, tasting—deliciously probing until I can barely sit still. My heart careens against my chest and I moan out loud, loving the way Harrison’s firm hand strokes my spine from my neck to my bottom, squeezing my curves while he makes love to my mouth.

“That feels so good,” I croon into his mouth. A sweet, sharp ache of arousal builds inside me and my pulse goes wild. My skin is flushed as my whole body pulsates with desire. My mouth blossoms beneath his demanding one as he continues to kiss me with breathtaking thoroughness. His lips lower to the hollow in my throat where he gives me a soft lick and I feel a jolt straight to my feminine core. The satiny scrape of his tongue against my bare skin makes my sweet spot clench and pulse as waves of pleasure inundate me. Harrison nuzzles my neck and whispers husky endearments that make me dizzy and weak with longing. My nails dig into his hard shoulders and…

Suddenly, I feel a sharp nudge against the back of my thigh. I turn to find Scout trying to crash our party. Panting, he pushes against the couch and plants his face on my lap, drooling up at us.

“Down boy,” Harrison commands in a low voice, his face dark and fierce with desire.

But it’s too late, the mood is broken and sanity returns as a sharp slap to my face. What am I doing here, encouraging Harrison, allowing his kisses to melt me into a helpless puddle of longing?

With shaky hands, I smooth my hair and adjust my T-shirt. My lips are swollen and I am ravenous for more of Harrison’s sexy kisses, but I have to get out of here before I regret it.

Harrison drags a hand through his hair, his body rigid and his jaw tight.

I get up from the couch and grab my purse. “I’m sorry. I have to leave.” Scout starts barking as I run to the door and open it.

Harrison follows me to the door. “Don’t go. Stay,” he coaxes in a gruff voice that sends prickly tingles coursing through me. My gaze connects with Harrison’s and the searing desire in his eyes nearly knocks me to my knees. But I fear if I stay, I’ll regret it.

I open the door and bolt out of his apartment before I cave.

Romeo: Can’t a pup get some sleep around here? First I got squashed and nearly suffocated underneath fashionista Francesca's clothes. Good thing she rescued me, I’m not ready for designer heaven. Then she abandoned me for Dr. Latin Lover.

This place is the Grand Central Station for men. Dr. Latin Lover is staking a claim on Francesca and she’s falling for his moves. Wake up and smell the café con leche, señorita! He’s is only after one thing…a piece of your colita.

Chapter Eleven

I’m holed up in my car with my forehead pressed against my steering wheel and my eyes are shut as I relive Harrison’s delicious kisses. No way am I going to my apartment and risk running into him again. I have been so naïve about him. All this time I’ve been forcing myself to treat Harrison like a friend, and then he totally blows me away with kisses that would wake the dead. I know it’s been a while, but I don’t remember being kissed like that before—
ever
. How else could I respond? I’m only human.

And then there’s Alex. Oh, Alex, why did you have to stand by passively while your Mamá treated me like dirt? That was the meanest and most unfair reception I’ve had from anyone, let alone a date’s mom.

So what do I do now? I don’t want to lose Harrison’s friendship, but I can’t lead him on either. I don’t want to give up on Alex just yet…

Desperate times like these call for one person—Mom. I turn on the ignition and head to her house, needing to talk to the voice of reason.

Shoot, Aunt Peggy’s car is in Mom’s driveway. As much as I love Aunt Peggy, who is also my godmother, I want to talk to Mom in private. I ring the doorbell and the door is instantly flung open.

“Frankie!” Aunt Peggy exclaims, folding me in her arms for a tight squeeze. “How’s my favorite niece?” Understandable—I’m her only niece and she’s like a second mom to me. “Uncle Bill and I never get to see you anymore.”

“I know and I’m sorry. I’ve been so swamped at work, I haven’t had a chance to come by and visit,” I say, giving her a wobbly smile.

“You don’t have to look so stricken, honey. We understand. We miss you, that’s all,” she says fondly, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear as she used to when I was a kid.

“Frankie, what’s wrong?” Mom says the minute she sees my face.

“Nothing.” I paste a smile on my face, even if it probably looks fake to Mom and Aunt Peggy’s knowing eyes.

Aunt Peggy reaches into her handbag for her car keys. “I wish I could stay and chat with you, but your Uncle Bill is meeting me at Spris and I’m already late.” She pulls me in for another hug and the moment her soft arms surround me, a lump forms in my throat. I wouldn’t mind her staying and hearing me out. I need all the advice I can get.

I swallow hard and say brightly, “Why don’t we have lunch next week? My treat.”

Aunt Peggy chuckles. “I’d love that, but it’s my treat. I insist.”

When she leaves, Mom lays a gentle hand on my cheek. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

I look around. “Where’s Dad?”

“In his office, asleep in his reading chair.”

I smile at the image of my scholarly dad, nodding over a science textbook.

“What smells so good?” My nostrils twitch at the sweet scent wafting from the kitchen.

“Your favorite,” Mom says, looking pleased.

“Lemon blueberry muffins?” I follow the delicious smell until I reach the kitchen counter where I spot the muffins atop a white porcelain cake stand. “Mmm, these look yummy.”

Mom smiles. “I made a double batch because Peggy was coming over. You can take a dozen home with you.”

Mom is the middle child of three. Uncle Wayne is the oldest and bossiest, even though he means well, and Aunt Peggy is the carefree youngest sister with a large appetite for fun—and sweets. And Mom’s the middle child, a born nurturer and peacemaker.

I bite into a moist muffin and am transported to when Mom would bake a batch of these muffins for after-school treats. “That’s the best news I’ve had all day.”

“Really? Tell me about it,” Mom says, sinking into a kitchen chair.

Half an hour later, after two lemon blueberry muffins downed with peach iced tea, I feel better. Sitting with Mom at the glass-topped bamboo table in her eat-in kitchen has soothed my ragged nerves. I’ve spilled my guts about Alex and Harrison, referring to them as Dr. Escobar and Dr. Taylor and she’s listened patiently, nodding and shaking her head.

Her almond-shaped brown eyes, so like mine, search my face. “So, what’s the real problem?”

“What do you mean, Mom? I just told you my dilemma.”

“Let me get this straight. You have two men, doctors no less, fighting over you.” She quirks an eyebrow at me. “
Hello
, you call this a dilemma? I call this every girl’s dream. Revel in it, sweetie. Enjoy, whoop it up!”

Huh?
Weird.
“Where’s my mom? Have you seen her?”

“Very funny. I mean it.” She shakes her head. “You’re my only child and sometimes I wonder if I’ve overprotected you.”

“You did your best.”

Mom chuckles. “Gee, thanks. Come on, Frankie. Give them both a chance. Have fun.”

“Both? I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but I feel like I need a break from all that testosterone. I wish I could curl up in my bed with Romeo, eat more lemon blueberry muffins and read a romance novel.”

“You can’t run away, Frankie. You have to face the music, or in this case, the boys.”