New York City Docs. Tina Beckett

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       CHAPTER SEVEN

      CHOP-CHOP-CHOP.

      Short little fingers connected with his shoulder in a sharp triplet that had him shaking his head.

      Chop-chop-chop. The hatchet-like barrage was repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time.

      Clay’s mom, standing in the kitchen stirring a pot of pasta, laughed at the bloodcurdling shriek Molly gave for effect.

      He gave her a sour look. “Don’t encourage her.”

      Clay had tried a reward system with his daughter, had tried reasoning with her, but nothing seemed to deter her.

      The girl spun around on her toes, her hands making various slicing motions that would make any masseuse proud to know her.

      “I’m not encouraging her.” His mom pointed the wooden spoon at him, eyes crinkling in the corners even though it was obvious she was trying her best not to smile. “Like I said earlier, the sooner you can get her over to that studio, the better.”

      It had been two days since he and Tessa had kissed in the park, and he’d railed at himself at least a thousand times since. What had he been thinking, promising her a steamy night at his place? He didn’t take women there. Ever.

      Chop-chop-chop. Molly turned her efforts to one of the bar stools, while Jack laid his head on his paws and did his best to blend into the beige carpet. With his black and white spots, it wasn’t working out very well for him.

      He patted the side of the chair, inviting his parents’ dog over to him. Jack glanced at Molly and then with a low woof came over and plopped down on the floor beside him.

      “You’re not fooling anyone, you old softie,” he said, scratching behind the Dalmatian’s ears. “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger just like the rest of us.”

      As if to agree, the dog pulled in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, his brown eyes closing, lids flickering as he fell asleep.

      If only he could go to sleep that quickly and easily. But lying in his bed was torture. Especially after telling Tessa he was going to keep her in it all night. Every time he started to drift off, images danced behind his eyelids and he’d jerk back awake.

       Chop-chop-chop.

      This time it was Clay who was holding back a smile. Just when he got too hung up on all that was wrong with his life, this little girl swooped into his field of vision and turned it all right again.

      Getting up from his seat, he went over and caught her up in his arms. “Let’s say we go get those little choppers all washed and clean for dinner.”

      Molly giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “When are we going to see capo… capo…?” Her tongue struggled over the pronunciation.

      “Capoeira.” He drew the word out slowly so she could hear it. “And we’re going soon. Very soon.”

       I hope.

      With that, he swept her down the hall, knowing that as soon as dinner was over her little karate chops would start all over again. And continue on the drive home, until she finally fell asleep in her bed.

       We’re all friends here.

      Were they?

      Tessa had hoped Clay wouldn’t come to the capoeira studio when she was there, but Marcos had made a scoffing sound. Right before making his comment about them all being friends.

      Besides, he had something to run by her, he’d said. And by Clay.

      That filled her with trepidation more than anything.

      She pulled up to the studio to see that Clay’s car was already in the parking lot, but he wasn’t in it. Great. She definitely didn’t want Marcos relaying some scheme while she wasn’t there to mediate. She’d never told the director of the studio what had happened between her and her ex, and he’d never asked. But surely, since Clay had stopped coming in to train, he’d figured out they were no longer together. At least she hoped he did.

      When she pushed through the door to the studio, she saw the man in question immediately. He was there in the middle of a swarm of capoeiristas with his daughter. Everything in her relaxed. He’d said he wanted Molly to see a training session, so it hadn’t just been a line.

      And after that kissing session in the park she’d halfway expected him to show up on her floor and start making plans about that night he’d talked about.

      She’d had second thoughts about that. She could only hope his absence meant that he’d reconsidered, as well.

      It had been a warm, dark evening, and the park had been beautiful. It had been natural that it would bring up old memories and emotions.

      Emotions that had no place in her hectic life right now. She was getting ready to complete her residency and apply for that fellowship. The last thing she needed to do was rekindle a romance that was dead and gone.

       Was it?

      Of course it was. But she was also a young woman with normal urges. And it had been a very long time since she’d been with a man. Well over a year.

      If Clay propositioned her, she couldn’t guarantee she’d say no. But it would be with the understanding that it was just about the sex.

      S-E-X. Nothing more.

      That tick-tick-tick going on inside her chest was not some biological clock warning her time was running out. Her residency took priority. But once that was done she planned on looking into adoption. Or checking into in vitro fertilization, using a sperm donor.

      Clay’s blue eyes met hers and one side of his mouth tilted up in that crazy sexy smile. Okay, so she’d been staring at him as all those thoughts had gone wriggling through her head—just like a thousand swimmers all headed for the prize. Great. Clay was not a potential sperm donor, and she hardly thought he’d be amenable to dumping a sample in a cup and handing it over to some fertility expert.

      No, he’d want his donation to be up close and personal.

      She shivered for a second before realizing Marcos had said something.

      Clay’s brow went up, his smile widening.

      Caught again! Damn.