Page 41 of Doctor's Bossy Match
“You’re going down,” he says with a laugh as he lines up the ball.
We kick back and forth, and I’m half-breathless from the running, half-laughing at how competitive Dusty is for his age.It feels good.
I hear footsteps behind me, and then Brant’s voice.
“You seriously started a game without me?”
I glance over my shoulder, watching him walk over.His eyes are bright yet focused on me, like I’m the only person here.It makes my stomach flutter.
“You were busy,” I say, feigning innocence.
“Uh-huh.”He steps beside me.“You just wanted the upper hand.”
I shove his arm playfully.“Admit it, you’re scared I’ll outplay you.”
“In your dreams.”
We both go for the ball at the same time, and our shoulders bump.I laugh and give him another little shove.
“Are you always this clumsy?”I tease.
“That was a tactical block.”
Dusty cackles and kicks the ball hard, and Brant intercepts it with ease.Show-off.He nudges it toward me, and our fingers brush briefly as I go to kick it back.
He smirks.“Nice footwork,Rae.”
I blink, stunned, by his nickname for me.No one’s ever called me that before, so it’s bringing out a mix of feelings.Warmth warring with fear.I force myself not to dwell on it and quickly reply smartly.“You didn’t seem so confident when I stole it from you five seconds ago.”
“Oh, please.I let you have that one.”
“Sure, you did.”
We play like that for a while, poking and teasing, all subtle touches and shared glances.It’s ridiculous and fun, and kind of perfect.
I forget we’re colleagues.I forget about the hospital and the pressure and the tension between us.Out here, we’re just two people being stupid and flirty over a football, while a kid runs circles around us.
Dusty kicks the ball so hard it sails past us and rolls to the edge of the lawn.He groans, “Ugh, not again.”
Brant chuckles.“Guess that’s my cue.”
He jogs off after it, and I stand there, chest pounding, wondering when everything between us got so… effortless.
Chapter 15
Brant
We'reallpanting,Dusty'sdoubled over laughing, and Regan’s hands are on her knees, hair stuck to her face, grinning like she just won.I can’t take my eyes off her.
She straightens up, brushing a sweaty strand behind her ear, and when her eyes meet mine, there's a spark there.
“You’re not bad for someone who wears a suit to work,” she says, nudging my arm with her elbow.
“Didn’t see you scoring,” I say, even though I’m pretty sure she outplayed me at least twice.
“Oh, please.”She grins.“I had to carry the team.”
I laugh, and the sound surprises me.When was the last time I felt this light with a woman?
