Janice Lynn - The Doctor's Secret Son

“Why did he bring us these?”

He waggled his brows. “I’m a resourceful man.”

“Apparently,” she agreed, taking the towel from him, and wiping off the bubbles clinging to her skin and clothes. “We weren’t dressed for this.”

“We were fine,” he countered. “Most everyone is wearing T-shirts and shorts, except for the kids.”

“Thank you.”

His smile was amazing. Brilliant. Beautiful.

“You’re welcome, Chrissie. Making you smile is my pleasure.”

* * *

There were a dozen or so people on the medical crew. More than they’d needed tonight, but that would change with sun-up.

There were a few two-man tents at the back of the medical area so there would be medical staff close in case middle-of-the-night care was needed. Chrissie was rooming with one of the nurse-practitioner volunteers, a pretty woman in her late forties who worked with a local children’s hospital and said she’d been volunteering with CCPO for the past couple of years, after one of her patients’ family had mentioned how the organization had helped with expenses.

Chrissie liked hearing how the organization was making a difference out in the real world, rather than just through the testimonies given on stage at the event. Somehow, hearing Bernadette say CCPO had helped one of her patients made it all so much more real.

She and Trace had checked to make sure the medical area was still slow, then she’d slipped off to her tent to grab her toiletries where she bumped into her roommate.

“I’m headed to the shower truck to wash the bubbles off myself,” she told the smiling woman.

“I’ll be heading that way before the rush, too,” Bernadette said, from where she sat on her sleeping bag, holding her phone. “I’m going to call home and check on my husband and kids since there’s not a need in the medical tent right now.”

Chrissie nodded, then left their tent to give the woman a semblance of privacy. In reality, there was very little. Yet, four years ago, she and Trace had found ways to be alone, especially at night when they’d been the two manning the slow, midnight hours.

Trace.

She’d essentially agreed to get to know him.

Ha. What did that even mean? She wasn’t sure.

At least he’d been upfront that his main goal was to sleep with her again.

What a goal.

What a man.

She hung her head and took a deep breath. Why was she even fighting him?

He was right. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Probably more.

But she was four years older, four years wiser, four years more mature. She didn’t have wild sexual flings.

Especially premeditated ones.

Then again, trying to convince herself of greater maturity right after playing in a sea of bubbles probably wasn’t the most effective argument she’d ever waged.

But, oh, how she’d had fun playing with Trace.

Who’d have ever thought she’d be surrounded by bubbles, dancing and acting goofy with Trace Stevens?

She’d have bet against those odds every time.

But she didn’t regret it. How could she when she’d laughed more than she recalled laughing in months? Years?

No, that wasn’t true. She laughed with Joss. Lots and lots. Goodness, but that kid made her happy.

And Savannah. Spending time with her best friend and her baby daughter made Chrissie happy, too. Prior to Savannah’s wedding, her friend had stayed the night and they’d giggled the night away while Joss slept.

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