Iâm halfway through a patientâs dressing change when Owen pokes his head around the privacy curtain. I meet his gaze expectantly while trying to control my hormones whenever heâs in my space.
I know it was my idea to keep our dating on the down-low. I didnât say that it wouldnât suck. Itâs awful, but Iâm still working through my own demons. My ghosts, as Owen calls them.
I get it. Heâs that guy, but he also doesnât know how close I came to losing everything. It doesnât help that Nicole is not taking the hint, although part of me doubts that Owen has actually tempered her advances. I donât think heâs messing around with her. But sheâs a gorgeous woman, and heâs basking in the adoration.
He is a man, after all.
So, at work, we are colleagues. Outside of work, behind closed doors, we are passion personified. Unfortunately, that passion has been shelved for the last few nights. Iâve been with my father and Owenâ¦well, Iâm not entirely sure where heâs been. All I know is that he wasnât with me.
âCan I help you, Dr. Stevens?â I inquire, pushing a stubborn strand of hair from my face with my forearm. Why is that whenever your hands are unavailable, your face itches? Seriously, what kind of next level hell is that?
âYouâre working bedside today, Tally?â
âI do it a few times per month. Keep my hand in.â
âThatâs smart,â he remarks, flashing a hint of that dimple beneath his neatly trimmed beard. Have I mentioned how much I adore that dimple?
âI have my moments.â I gaze down at the patient, her eyes widening with worry that I might not be an experienced handler. âDonât worry, Mrs. Hobbs. Iâm the nurse manager for the unit.â
Owen looks past me to the patient. âYouâre lucky. Tally is an amazing nurse. Sheâs an amazing soul.â
My heart catches. âThank you. I appreciate that.â
âI mean it. Can you come to my office?â
I lift my gloved hands, giving him a shrug. âIâm a little busy at the moment. Can it wait?â
Owen chuckles. âI meant later.â
âOkay.â Our exchange is innocent, but itâs the way he looks at me, the fire burning in those gray depths, that sets my body humming. How in the hell am I supposed to claim weâre just friends when I drool every time I see him?
The good doctor knows the effect heâs having on me, and heâs enjoying every second. Owen leans in, his lips brushing against my ear, his voice low so that only I can hear. âI miss that gorgeous mouth. I need a refill.â
An hour later, I stroll down the VIP corridor, heading for Owenâs office. No, itâs not the technical name, but with all the big-wig doctors down this hallway, it might as well be.
I wonder how often Dr. Nicole Hedges finds a reason to be in this same hallway, with the same destination.
Bitch had better back off. Just saying. I know it might be a âhaving my cake and eating it tooâ scenario, but Iâll break every finger on her pretty hand if she touches Owen again.
Ugh, I really hope he isnât lying when he says they havenât done anything together.
I bite back some nausea. Another fun addition over the last week. No doubt itâs because of the stress Iâm putting myself under by over-analyzing everything. As per usual.
I knock on his door and immediately hear his gravelly timbre. âCome in.â Even those two simple words drip with appeal, but hell, Owen is appealing to everyone. It makes his comment last week so confusing. He asked me if I was ashamed of him as if that was a scenario he encountered before.
I canât imagine any woman anywhere, being anything but proud of Owen Stevens. Hell, Iâm in awe of the man, even if I canât admit publicly the number of his body parts on my worship list.
Discretion is a dying art. I donât need our co-workers poking their noses into our business. Besides, should it go south, I donât want those sympathetic glances or whispers about another one biting the dust. Yep, itâs my good old self-esteem issues. Back in action. I need a shrink. Or a drink. Likely both.
I walk into Owenâs office, jolting when I spot Dr. Empreso standing by Owenâs desk. I break out in hives whenever Iâm near him. He is one of Memorialâs top surgeons and an absolute sleaze. Literally, thatâs his nickname, and I didnât invent it. I certainly use it enough, though.
Owen smiles at me from across the room. âHi, Tally. Itâll just be a second.â
âShould I wait outside?â
Upon hearing my voice, Dr. Sleaze pivots, offering me a slow, shark-like smile. âOh, itâs , Lu. Whatâs shaking?â The question is innocent, but his openly ogling gaze is anything but.
âWhy does everyone call you Lu?â Owen questions. âWhy not Tally? Itâs softer.â
I shrug, aware that Dr. Sleaze is still ogling me, and Owen is blissfully unaware. âEveryone always called me Lu. I canât remember how it started.â
I really wish this surgeon would look but my tits. Hell, could he at least pretend to be interested in the conversation? âA good question. Lu is such a masculine name for such a wisp of a woman.â
âYour Dad calls you Tally. I call you Tally. But then again, Iâm not everyone. Am I, Darlin?â
My jaw slackens at Owenâs brazen use of my pet name, showing just how well he knows me. Then I meet his gaze and realize he is blissfully unaware of nothing. Owen is rigid in his seat, and I bet money his fists are clenched under the desk as he observes Dr. Empresoâs blatant eye fuck.
The surgeon swings his beady-eyed gaze to Owen. âYou sly devil. It appears you know better than I do. Well, I wonât keep you two. Iâm sure you have tons to discuss.â With a final wink, he walks out, ensuring his body brushes against mine. âSee you soon, .â
I close my eyes and grimace at his unwelcome touch. When I hear the door latch, I release an audible shudder. âI want to go take a bath in bleach.â
Owen is on his feet, striding with purposeful anger toward the door. âThat smug son of a bitchââ
My hands raise to his chest, halting any further forward movement. âNo. Go sit down.â
Owen grabs my upper arms, his eyes flashing. âThe way that man looks at you. The way he you. No, just no. Itâs not happening.â
âStop it. Heâs not worth it. Dr. Sleaze does that to several women. He thinks heâs Godâs gift.â
âIâll take him down a few pegs. He wonât do that to you again.â
Thereâs nothing quite as endearingâand sexyâas Owenâs quest to save my virtue. But heâs also very determined in said quest, and if I donât distract him fast, there will be a heated exchange for the hospital to see. Not the best way to end a week.
Looping my arms around his waist, I lay my head on his chest and squeeze. Holy hell, I love this man. Heâs my home. âThank you.â
As soon as my body connects with Owenâs, I feel the fight leave him. His tense muscles relax as he returns the hug, squeezing me so tight it almost hurts to breathe. âI know what youâre doing.â
I giggle. Of course he does. The man knows every facet of me. âIs it working?â
âYou have the magic touch. But Iâm still going to speak to him.â
My gut clenches. Dr. Empreso is a sleaze, no doubt, but in Memorialâs eyes, heâs irreplaceable. Me? Not so much. I donât want to lose another job because of a jealous and vindictive man, and I certainly donât want Owen coming under scrutiny for defending me. âAnd say what? Heâs a pig, Owen. Thatâs what he does.â
âIâve seen the way he ogles you, and not just today.â He runs his fingers across his beard, letting out a huff. âThe way most men here ogle you. It drives me crazy.â
I laugh, gazing up into that gorgeous face. âDonât even get me started. The entire hospital is in love with you, one doctor in particular.â I donât say her name. He knows who Iâm talking about.
âIâm in love with you.â
I burrow my head deeper against his chest, willing back the tears. God, I love him too. I just canât say the words. When I said them the last time, everything went to crap. Call me superstitious, but Iâm being careful. âOwenââ
âI read the employee handbook. Cover to cover.â
I narrow my eyes at him. âThatâs likely a first for anyone, even those working in HR. Cure for insomnia?â
âYes, but thatâs beside the point. The insomnia is your fault.â
âMine?â
âYes. Anyway, the handbook doesnât say anything about employees dating.â
Holy shit, the man really did read the book. âIt doesnât?â
âYou know it doesnât, Tally.â
âWhat are you saying?â
âThe same thing Iâve been saying since we met. I want to be with youâpublicly with youâlike we were those first two weeks. Itâs hard to defend my rage when Iâm your co-worker, and a guy hits on you. But if they know weâre dating, theyâll keep their mouths shut and their hands to themselves.â
I consider his statement, not because Iâm worried about the ogling philanderers at Memorial, but because Iâm finding it exceedingly tricky to not stake my public claim on Owen. âYou really think that would stop them?â
âIf it doesnât, a punch in the mouth will,â Owen mutters. âAlthough I have another idea.â
My ears perk up. Hopefully, Owen hasnât decided that an open relationship is the best option. Iâll vomit all over his shoes. âWhatâs your brilliant idea, Dr. Stevens?â
His eyes are silver with intensity. âWe make you Mrs. Stevens.â
My jaw slackens as my gaze flies up to meet his.
âWhat are you talking about?â
Owen grins, and I know Iâd be happy staring at that smile for the rest of my days. âWe get you an enormous diamond. You can pick out the ring, or Iâll design it for you. Iâve considered a few styles.â
I open my mouth to retort, but Iâve got nothing.
He sends me a knowing wink. âNo, I want to design it.â
Words. I need words. Iâm fluent in English, so why canât I figure out anything to say? All I can do is gape up at him, certain heâll burst out laughing, claiming itâs a joke.
The question is if he is kidding, would I be relieved or disappointed? Iâm leaning toward disappointment, making this utterly untrodden ground.
âIâll make sure that the ring represents you.â
âAll this to ensure Dr. Sleaze stays in his own lane?â
Owen shakes his head, dipping down to steal a kiss. âHey, it is a solution,â he replies, chuckling at my glare. âDarlin, Iâm going to marry you because I love you.â
I bite back a smile. Damn him for getting me so excited. âDo I have a say in any of this?â
âSure. Emerald cut or round?â
That Owen knows the cuts of stones stops me in my tracks. Could he mean what heâs saying?
âYou didnât think I was serious, did you?â
âDamn mind reader,â I grumble, tucking my head back against him.
We pass the next few minutes like this, existing in the warmth of one another. My hands stay firmly planted against his lower back, maintaining a relatively PG posture. Not Owen. His hands are totally misbehaving. Within moments, theyâre traveling along the curve of my ass, causing his erectionâand my desireâto grow by the second.
At this rate, weâll be naked and screwing on the table. Again. Time to shift back to our regularly scheduled work personas. âYou wanted to see me?â
âShh.â He presses my head back against his chest while his free hand slips beneath the waistband of my scrubs, tracing along my skin.
âHey, hands, mister.â
âItâs your fault. Your skin is like silk, Tally. I want to peel off your clothes and devour every inch of you.â
âRight here?â
âRight now.â
Itâs suddenly a thousand degrees in here. Placing my chin on his chest, since he isnât letting me break the embrace, I meet that glacial gaze. âDr. Stevens, are you trying to seduce me?â
A half-smile decorates his lips as he moves his hands up to frame my face. âThatâs called love, Darlin. If I wanted to seduce you, youâd be sprawled across my table, and Iâd be replacing a second pair of underwear.â
Two thousand degrees and rising. Maybe I can skip my daily rounds. This is far more important for my mental and emotional well-being.
âMy Mom is in town,â Owen states.
Random subject change, but at least it throws water on my overheated hormones. âReally?â
âShe never actually left Florida, just traveled to Tampa to visit a friend. Sheâs taking full advantage since she only saw me once a year when I lived in San Fran.â
âI get it. Youâre her baby boy, and sheâs spent enough time away from you.â
âIâm having dinner with her tonight at that restaurant. The one you refused to dine at with me.  She wants you to come.â
I arch my brow. âShe does?â
âYes, and so do I.â
âAre you sure itâs a good idea? How do we explain being together if someone sees us?â
Owen clears his throat, a muscle twitching in his jaw. Heâs aggravated as hell with our arrangement. âIs there something you need to tell me? Are you secretly married, Tally?â
âNo, what a ridiculous question!â
âThen who cares is someone sees us. In fact, I hope the entire staff sees us tonight.â
âButââ
His fingers press to my mouth, and I reward them with a kiss. âStop arguing, Tally, or Iâll announce right now, over the hospital loudspeaker, that you and I are getting married.â
Thatâs such a tempting idea, maybe I should keep arguing.
âJust say yes, Darlin.â
With a smile and nod, I concede. âWhat time should I meet you two?â