Название: Hot Single Docs Collection
Автор: Lynne Marshall
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
isbn: 9781474085441
isbn:
No, it was time to make some changes, starting now.
Layla’s hand suddenly went to her wrist and squeezed. Blinking at her, Chloe saw her friend mouth, “Oh, God.”
She followed Layla’s gaze, and her own eyes widened. Brad had just walked through the door with another man.
Oh, no! She’d left a note on his desk, saying she was going out to dinner with a friend. She’d assumed he’d head home, although she had no idea why.
Her head suddenly pounded. What if he was here to pick up a woman? Ugh! Maybe she could crawl beneath a table and hide.
But if Chloe was horrified, Layla looked positively stricken, her face as pale as a ghost’s. Looking back at the men, she realized why.
That had to be Alex.
The men were almost the same height with wide shoulders and powerful frames, but whereas Brad’s hair was an inky black, the other man’s was a shade or two lighter. Female heads followed their progress as they made their way deeper into the place, and just when Chloe hoped they’d head to the bar without noticing them, Brad’s eyes swept the interior and found hers.
Oh, hell.
He bumped the other man’s shoulder and nodded their way.
“Please, no.” Even through sounds of clinking glasses and noisy conversations Layla’s quiet plea came through loud and clear. But there was nothing to do but sit there and watch the nightmare unfold.
Of course the only available table when they’d first arrived had been one with four chairs. And the place was still packed. Any hope of scrambling away or slipping out the door was long gone. Even now, the two men headed toward them.
Brad stood behind one of the empty chairs. “I got your note and assumed you were headed for O’Malley’s. I guess I assumed wrong.”
O’Malley’s was the hospital staff’s go-to place for drinks after work. Was that why Brad had come here instead? Hoping to avoid her? Her heart contracted even more as Alex nodded towards Layla and said hello. Knowing what she did now, this had to be unbearably awkward for Layla. But she displayed none of the panic from a few minutes ago. Instead, her face was as cool as her smile, and she motioned to one of the chairs. “Do you want to sit?”
Brad glanced at her, one brow lifted in challenge. She gave a quick shrug. If he wanted to sit, who was she to stop him? He drew the chair a little closer, crowding her a bit. When his elbow touched her arm as he reached for the peanut bowl, she froze, a quick shiver running through her.
The other man sat as well but, unlike Brad, he kept his distance from Layla. A waitress came over to take their order.
“I’ll have a whiskey. Neat.” Brad smiled at Chloe’s frozen daiquiri. “I see you’re going for the lighter stuff nowadays. Smart girl. Especially if you end up being our designated driver.”
Was he making a reference to her behavior the last time she’d tried drinking straight whiskey?
“Drive your bike?” she said. “No thanks.”
A slow smile went across his face. “But you don’t mind taking a ride every once in a while.”
Her face heated as Layla and Alex both turned to look at her. The question on Layla’s face was as plain as day.
She ignored it and shifted her glance to the neurosurgeon, taking in his brooding eyes, wide shoulders, long fingers drumming on the table’s Formica surface. The man was freaking gorgeous. No wonder Layla had fallen hard and fast for him all those years ago.
“So how did you two wind up in the meatpacking district?” Layla asked.
“We were trying to get away from the crowds,” Alex said.
Layla’s brows went up, and her lips twitched. “So were we.”
Instead, Brad and Alex had found the two people who were trying to avoid this very meeting. And while she and Layla were having to work to be heard, the men’s voices seemed to carry with ease, seemingly unaffected by the room’s noise.
“Have you ordered dinner?” Brad’s arm went to the back of her chair in a strangely proprietorial move that would have made her laugh under different circumstances. But now it just made her nervous. Did he think she was going to practice her flirting skills on Alex or something? And there was no way she would, even if she were tempted. Not after what Layla had told her.
“We ordered appetizers.” She licked her lips. “We can share if you’d like.”
Something touched the back of her blouse and she almost jumped out of her skin before she realized it was his thumb, stroking back and forth from its perch on the chair. She stared straight ahead, afraid that if she looked at him he’d flash that lazy smile at her that turned her words to gibberish and her insides to mush.
“I might share,” he said. “Or I might want more of the same. It depends on what you’re having.”
More of the same?
Good heavens. Was he talking about food or their time under those mirrors? This man was out of her league in so many ways.
“I’m having sh-shrimp cocktail.” Yep, even without looking at him she was having trouble getting her words out.
Layla spoke up. “I’m having nachos.”
“Sounds good to me.” Alex’s eyes fastened on Layla’s and the other woman went pink. If Chloe hadn’t known better, she’d think there was still something between these two.
Thankfully, once the men’s drinks arrived and the extra appetizers had been ordered, Alex and Brad proceeded to talk shop, trying to see who’d had the oddest cases over the years. Some of them made everyone at the table laugh, and some were just plain bizarre. When Cade’s name came up later in the conversation Brad’s mouth thinned as he asked how he’d come to be in New York.
Alex paused for a moment, before shaking his head. “I’ll tell you about it later.”
Layla caught her eye, the pediatrician’s released breath puffing out her cheeks before she mouthed, “Can you believe this?”
Her thoughts exactly. Chloe’s laugh changed to a cough when both men stopped to look at her.
“Something funny?” Brad asked.
“Oh, um, no.” She glanced at her watch. Almost eleven. “I’m probably going to need to get back to the apartment, actually. I’m wiped.”
Yeah, last night had been long. Followed by a day that had had her emotions swinging from high to low. She really was tired.
“Me too,” said Layla.
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