Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 99967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
“Because I like it. It’s really that simple. I knew that I’d always have a job. I’m not squeamish when it comes to … fluids or needles or anything really. And when I did a rotation in a NICU, I knew that was it for me. The babies are so freaking strong and amazing. Most parents are good. There are always the few who aren’t very nice, but they’re scared, and I understand that. Plus, I won’t have kids, so this way, I can cuddle someone else’s baby without being considered a creep.”
His eyes narrow at that. I keep my face neutral, but I’m surprised I said that last part out loud. I don’t know that I’ve ever said those words before. Not even to Nathan, and I’d agreed to marry that asshole.
“What do you mean you won’t have kids?”
“I’m not infertile, I don’t think. I simply know that it’s not in the cards for me.”
He takes a bite of his burger, watching me as he chews.
“Why?”
I shove some fries in my mouth and decide to add more salt. “I don’t think I’d be great at it. I’m not terribly maternal. Sure, I like to take care of my patients, and I’ll dote on Greg, but I’m not warm and fuzzy.”
“You don’t have to be warm and fuzzy to be a good parent.”
I tip my head side to side as if I’m considering that. “Maybe not. I don’t know. It’s always been a gut feeling that I won't be a mom for as long as I can remember.”
He watches me for a minute, then nods slowly. “I understand. I love kids, but it’s never been in my plan to have a family, either. I’m very career-driven. I’m married to my job.”
“You know, I think that’s okay.” I take another bite of fries. They’re extra crispy tonight, just the way I like them. “Not everyone has to have a life goal of marriage and two-point-six kids. Or, around here, five kids.”
I shudder at that, and he laughs at me.
“Sometimes, it’s okay to want the career, the friends, the community. I’m not an island. I have people, and I like myself this way. It took a while to get there.”
“I like you, too,” he replies with a half smile. And before he can say more, his phone rings, making him scowl. “Shit, that’s the hospital.”
He sets his mostly eaten burger down and answers.
“This is Dr. Blackwell.” His jaw firms, and he pulls his hand down his face. “I’m not on call this evening.”
Sounds like our date is ending early.
“ETA is fifteen minutes.” His voice is hard, and it’s clear he’s not happy about this as he hangs up and stares at me. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“Married to the job, remember?”
“Harper, I—”
“Hey, it’s okay. Go.”
“There was a big accident, and they—”
“You’d better hurry,” I tell him. “Take that burger with you.”
“I’ll flag down the server and—”
“I’ve got this.” I grab a few napkins, wrap up his burger and hand it to him, then stand with him.
“I have cash for the bill. And I’ll call someone to give you a ride—”
“No. I will handle all of this. You go save some lives, Dr. Blackwell.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
He grabs my face in his hands and kisses me hard. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“I’m honestly fine. No bullshit. Go.”
Blake’s eyes are full of torment, but he kisses me again, grabs the burger off the table, and then he’s off. I sit down once more and steal his fries.
Chapter Nine
BLAKE
Fuck.
Chapter Ten
HARPER
Five minutes later, Bridger walks into the pub and skims the room, then walks my way when he sees me.
“I just got a call from Blake,” he says as he takes a seat across from me. “He asked me to drive you home.”
“He didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it.”
Bridger watches me as I finish my meal.
“Do you want some fries?” I ask him, but he shakes his head.
“You don’t look mad. I mean, Blake said you weren’t, but you really don’t look irritated about the abrupt change in plans tonight.”
I tilt my head to the side. “It’s not his fault there was an accident, and he has to go save lives at the hospital.”
“No, but a lot of women wouldn’t like having their date fucked up.”
I nod at that, and when the server brings the check, I reach for it, but Bridger snatches it up out of my fingers.
“I’m taking care of this,” he says.
“No. You’re not.” I pluck it out of his fingers, shaking my head. “I appreciate the sentiment.”
“Blake would have paid.”
“You’re not Blake.”
“He’s my brother, and I’m doing him a solid.”
“He’s my friend and same.” I smile at him and set my card down with the bill. “It’s okay, Bridger. I don’t know what kind of women Blake dates, but—”