Knocking gently didn’t give her an answer either. Maybe he was in the shower, and in that case she wanted to just turn around.

  But after a moment she realized she couldn’t hear water running either.

  Squaring her shoulders, she knocked louder. “Max? Are you up?”

  Nothing. Figures.

  She reached for the doorknob, found it unlocked and quietly pushed the door open, then peeked around.

  There he was in bed, on his back, a soft relaxed—rather sensual—expression on his face. Her heart started to pick up its pace. This was so wrong, but she needed to wake him.

  Only her eyes started to travel down a bit more over his bare chest with a sprinkling of hair, the covers just barely covering his hips and not doing much in the way of hiding the tent that was being pitched.

  This was crazy. She should turn around and leave right now. Still, he was going to be late. She should wake him, shouldn’t she?

  Pride be damned. “Max,” she said again.

  No response. She didn’t think doctors slept that soundly. “Max!”

  ***

  He was in bed with Quinn. She was running her hands down his chest, under the sheets and gripping him tight. It felt so good, too good really, but it had been worth the wait.

  Letting out a little breath, he lifted his hand to her breast. Small and perfectly round. Natural looking breasts, exactly like he preferred. He’d never been a fan of anything fake before.

  She said his name softly as he caressed her and it sounded so sweet to his ears. He wanted to hear it again, and louder this time, so he brought his other hand up, his thumb brushing against her nipple, watching it harden. Ripe for the picking, in his mind.

  He’d bet she tasted just as exquisite as she looked, so he leaned in and brought his lips to her rosy peak. Drew it into his mouth and suckled.

  Just like he wanted, she shouted out his name, “Max!”

  Only it wasn’t a dream forcing him to sit up fast and look around the room. There was Quinn standing in his doorway, her face flame red watching him look at her.

  Neither of them said a word for a full minute, and he was wondering if maybe he was still dreaming until she said, “You overslept. Sorry if I startled you, but I didn’t want you to be late for work.”

  He dropped his head back on the pillow with a thud. “I’m not going in today. I’ll be down in a minute,” he said, hoping she took the hint and left.

  Once his door was closed again, he climbed out of bed and noticed he was still sporting the results of another dream about Quinn. This was getting out of hand. He wasn’t sixteen anymore, but it sure the hell felt like it.

  After his cold shower, he dressed and made his way to the kitchen knowing he needed to do some damage control. Who would have thought he’d need it with two people today?

  It was natural—his reaction to her. It was healthy. He was entitled to dream about her as much as he wanted.

  She knew he was attracted to her, so what? She should feel honored.

  Okay, that was a childish thought. Still, they never finished their conversation from last night and what better way to lead into it than talking about his morning wood?

  Yep, juvenile again, but he really didn’t care at this point.

  Satisfied the kids were still passed out cold, he made his way to the kitchen to see her back to him as she leaned into the refrigerator.

  He was going to grab a cup and pour his coffee when he saw it already sitting in front of the chair he always occupied. That was good, he figured.

  “So let’s talk,” he said, and watched as she jumped. “Sorry, I thought you knew I was here since the coffee was ready.”

  “I heard the water shut off and just knew you’d be down soon. About what just happened…” she started to say, then trailed off.

  He felt like having some fun with this. Why not? Maybe he was a glutton, but he couldn’t help it. They’d established they felt something for each other last night. The wall was down, so he felt it was a sign he could push a bit more.

  If Mia hadn’t called last night, he was positive Quinn would have joined him on the couch. Except when he returned after handing the phone to Davey, Quinn had retired for the night. Coward.

  “Want to know what I was dreaming about?” he asked, hoping to throw her off guard.

  It worked. She looked confused, then leaned to look down the hall and see if anyone was around. “I’m not sure.”

  “You know you want to know,” he said, pushing the envelope. He stood up and walked toward her.

  She held her ground, and got points for that. “Do you want to tell me? I mean it was pretty obvious some of what you were dreaming about.”

  Good for her. This was going to be fun. He was glad he’d decided to not go into work today.

  A few more steps closer, and he had her pressed against the kitchen counter.

  “I most definitely want to tell you,” he whispered against her lips.

  Her eyes were half closed, her lips parted just a little, and he hoped to hell he wasn’t dreaming this again, because he had to taste her now.

  Thank God her arms wrapped around his neck, giving him all the permission he needed to proceed.

  “You,” he said before he covered her mouth with his.

  Just a touch, just a taste and oh so sweet. She yielded so easily to him reinforcing the fact that he could get lost in her in a heartbeat.

  It probably wasn’t wise, least of all to be doing it here in the kitchen, but his mind wasn’t thinking that. For once he was letting his body control his actions.

  When her hips pushed into his, he placed his hands on her waist and held her tighter, slipping his tongue inside her mouth and tasting her fully now.

  It seemed like a lifetime since he’d held a woman, tasted a woman, or felt this strong of a need.

  She moaned and it sounded just like it did in his dream, only better this time because he knew he was awake and it was real.

  Just as suddenly, she dropped her hands and pushed back, but she was already against the counter. Once she realized that, she placed her hands on his chest and shoved him a bit.

  “That shouldn’t have happened,” she said quickly.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Give me a minute to think of a reason.”

  He laughed, loving her honesty. “No thinking. Maybe I shouldn’t have done it just now. Maybe I shouldn’t have done it here, but we were getting there anyway and you know it.”

  “I can’t think right now. Give me space,” she said, slipping by him.

  He couldn’t remember ever having that effect on a woman and was enjoying it immensely.

  “Quinn, take a deep breath and come sit and talk to me.”

  She looked a little wide-eyed but nodded her head and sat on a stool next to him.

  “This just makes things messy,” she said.

  “Yep, it does,” he agreed.

  “We never got to finish our conversation last night. If we had, we could have avoided this.”

  “Do you really think that would have happened?” he asked, giving her credit for at least trying to sound convincing.

  “Probably not. Now what?”

  Damn if he knew. “Now we do what I wanted to do last night. Get to know each other. And well, now I know you kiss damn good.”

  “Oh God. I’ve never done that before,” she said, dropping her forehead to the counter.

  “You’ve never kissed a man before?” he said, laughing at her reaction. “You must be a natural then if that was your first.”

  “No,” she said pushing at his shoulder. The frisky move was absolutely encouraging. “I’ve never kissed a co-worker, let alone a boss. This is nuts.”

  “Well then, we’re even. I’ve never kissed an employee.”

  She lifted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Not funny. Or the same thing.”

  “You’re right, it’s not. An employee could sue me for sexual harassment.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” she rushed out. “It was mutual. I put my arms around you. I kissed you back. I’ve been flirting with you for weeks. We established that last night.”

  “Well, look at that. You just admitted you’re feeling the same as me.”

  She looked shocked by her own admission, then said, “Of course I do. I wouldn’t have kissed you otherwise. I wouldn’t sue you. I don’t know, I’m so confused. I don’t know how to handle this. I shouldn’t have started it. Maybe this is a mistake.”

  They were getting way off track. “It’s not a mistake, so don’t think that. Back to the kiss. Let’s agree it’s mutual and agree to table it for now.” He held his hand up when she went to speak. “I’m not going to forget it happened, not unless you want us to stop and go back. I’ll do that if that is what you want—what you really want. I mean deep down, if you truly think this is a mistake, tell me now.”

  “I don’t know what I want.”

  All he heard was she didn’t say no. “Then we’ll take it slowly. Relax now. You’re looking a little pale to me. Do you feel okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, climbing out of the chair. “What do you want for breakfast? And why are you even home?”

  He’d take her lead on this and just move on. She was getting some of her coloring back and if she needed to do this to get her bearings, he’d let her.

  “I didn’t have anything scheduled today. The only appointments are for the girls. Cosmetic procedures they do or just follow-ups. I thought I’d stop in to do paperwork, but after last night I figured I needed to do some damage control with Davey.”

  He wouldn’t regret making Davey at least wish his mother a happy Thanksgiving, but he knew he’d lost some of the ground he seemed to have gained lately.

  “He’s not happy with you?”

  “No. He didn’t say anything, but I could see it on his face. He took the phone, said a few words, and then handed it back and went to his room.”

  “What are your plans for the day?”

  “Not sure. Any suggestions?”

  “Bring yourself down to his level,” she said.

  “Meaning?”

  “Prepare yourself to get crushed at video games today.”

  Don’t Be Jealous

  Monday morning, Max walked into his office and got right to work. It was nice having the weekend to himself.

  Just because he wasn’t on call for hospital emergencies didn’t mean he wasn’t on call with his own patients. As luck would have it, it was a quiet weekend.

  And though he didn’t think he was back to the way things were with Davey before Mia called, he definitely made up some ground.

  Who would have thought having your eleven-year-old thrash you at video games could be a bonding experience? The worst part was, Max didn’t let Davey win; Davey thoroughly kicked his butt with skill.

  This weekend gave him a chance to see how the kids were around Quinn. And how Quinn interacted with him and the kids.

  Everyone seemed easy, which was good. Quinn surely knew his kids well and for that he would be ever grateful.

  Between her suggestion about video games with Davey, then a movie later that night with everyone, to baking cookies on Sunday, his household was starting to feel normal again.

  Not like it was before he left New York, because Mia wouldn’t have been caught dead doing a movie night or baking cookies. Not even playing with the kids.

  But it was normal in Max’s eyes, and that was all that mattered to him right now.

  And though he was originally worried that Davey had a crush on Quinn, he came to realize that wasn’t the case. Not like he suspected at least.

  “He just wants someone to pay attention to him, Max,” Quinn said Saturday night after the kids were in bed.

  “I pay attention to him.”

  “No, a woman. Like a mother figure. Didn’t you say he was closer to his mother than Lara?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, he still needs that in his life. Some kids will always need to feel loved and accepted by their mothers, even if they aren’t in the picture. Or at least a mother figure. I think Davey sees me in that role.”

  He should have realized that himself, but he didn’t. He kept thinking Davey had the biggest issue with him, but maybe there was more to it. You’d think if Davey wanted a mother figure so much, he’d want to talk to his mother rather than avoid her.

  “I don’t know. I think there’s more to it,” Max argued.

  “There probably is. At the root of it, he just wants to feel a part of something. Did you know he’s called Jennifer more than Lara has?”

  “No, no one said anything to me. Why haven’t you?”

  “Because it wasn’t important. Davey told me he called her to tell her about some of his projects she helped with and his grades. About beating you at video games. Yes, he called her yesterday.”

  “Oh.” Why hadn’t he known that? Why hadn’t anyone told him? And where was he when Davey called? “How do you know Davey called her?”

  “Because he asked if I thought it would be okay to call Jennifer and tell her. You should be happy he wanted Jennifer to know you two spent time together. I said it wouldn’t hurt to at least leave a message. All Davey is doing is using Jennifer, and now me, as a mother figure. Someone to come home to and talk about his day with.”

  “Why won’t he talk to me?”

  “You’d have to ask him that yourself. My guess is he finds it easier to talk to Jennifer and me because we didn’t have anything to do with your marriage or divorce. We’re almost neutral parties. I think he needs that now.”

  “Probably right.” He reached for Quinn’s hand and threaded his fingers through hers. It was the first contact they’d had since the kiss on Friday, but there’d been plenty of long glances at each other. “How did you get to be so smart for someone so young?”

  She laughed and squeezed his hand. “I might be young in age, but I’ve lived a lifetime of stress, worry and wanting to belong. Let’s say I can read people well, especially kids who are looking for some attention and maybe even love.”

  “I love my children,” he said, trying not to be offended.

  “That was never in doubt. And it wasn’t said in regards to Lara and Davey. They have plenty of love, but maybe they don’t always get it from where they want it. You can’t control that, Max.”

  He knew that, and it killed him that was the case. There was only so much he could do, and it seemed maybe what Davey needed or wanted was something he had no control over. Even the counselors the kids talked to before and after the move said the same thing.

  “What are you doing here so early?” Pamela asked him when she walked into his office and caught him reminiscing about the last few days.

  “I didn’t get much done this weekend, so I figured I’d catch up before any patients come in and see what’s scheduled.”

  “Hopefully it’s a light day.” Pamela stopped and looked at him closely. The women in his office were always giving him advice and telling him what to do. “You look happy.”

  “I didn’t know I was such a grouch,” he said, smirking.

  “You aren’t. No one can say otherwise. But you look different. I’d like to say fat and happy with all the food you’ve been bringing in here, but that’d be a lie. Have you been using any of those ultrasound therapies to get rid of a belly pouch that we aren’t aware of?”

  All the women in the office had experimented with the treatments and machines. Who couldn’t resist a quick, painless non-surgical way to melt fat? And he let them use it. Practice makes perfect, but he never used it on himself and they knew that.

  “Superior genetics. Good metabolism. Don’t be jealous.”

  “You suck, Max,” Pamela said.

  “Quinn sent cookies in too. They’re in the kitchen,” he called out to her as she walked out of his office.

  “We’ll get even with you,” he heard shouted from down the hallway.

  He might not be able to control everything he wished he could, but the rest of his life seemed to be back on track.

  ***

  Quinn was folding the laundry when she heard her phone ringing. Hardly anyone ever called her. She’d get text messages, but that was about it.

  She rushed out of the laundry room and into the kitchen to grab it and saw Brett’s name. Oh boy, that couldn’t be good. “Hey, Brett. Everything okay?”

  “Why do you always ask that when we call?”

  Force of habit, but she didn’t say that. “Sorry. You normally only text.”

  “Maybe I wanted to talk to you,” he said.

  Which of course led her to believe there was something going on because Brett normally avoided her, never called her.

  “What did you want to talk to me about?” she asked, leaning against the counter in the kitchen.

  “Did you have a good Thanksgiving?” he asked.

  “You’re stalling, but yes, I did. How about you?”

  “Annie cooked. Since she isn’t here, I can say it wasn’t that great. Nothing like what you do, but she tried and that is what matters.”

  Brett was going to be a good husband someday. She was sure he was a good father already, and he seemed to be a good mate to Annie.

  “Someday, Brett, we can try to get together. I’ll try to put some money aside and fly out there when I can get time off. Maybe the Websters would be willing to let Lily see Karl if I was there.”

  “Maybe. Speaking of money…thank you again, Quinn. You didn’t need to send it.”

  She knew how hard it was for Brett to accept anything, which was why he normally avoided her.

  “It wasn’t as much as I would have liked at that time. Lily told you about my new job, right? I’ll be able to send a bigger amount soon.”

  “No,” he said firmly. “I got a second job. We’re fine.”

  He was prideful, she knew that, so she dropped it for now. She could still send it to Annie if she needed to. “How are Annie and Scotty doing? Is Scotty sleeping better?”

  “Annie’s tired but thankfully has no morning sickness this time. Scotty is doing better. We realized he wasn’t getting enough breast milk so we started with formula. Now it’s just finding the right one, but he’s not as fussy as he was.”