Maybe so considering I also sleep with him…at least I used to.

  I swallow that thought, stay quiet, and nod.

  This can’t be right. In my head I’d pictured her as a caricature of an ex-wife: bitter and out for blood. This woman sitting across from me is neither of those things. She’s a glowing pregnant lady nibbling on chocolate.

  “We were married a long time ago,” she emphasizes before pointing one finger down at her belly. “Obviously.”

  “Congratulations,” I say, because what the heck else am I supposed to say? “About your pregnancy, not about it being a long time ago.”

  She grins. “Thank you. Want a piece?” Her chocolate bar is outstretched toward me and I’ve had a terrible morning, so of course I accept a few squares. We munch for a moment or two in silence and then she continues. “Matt—er, Dr. Russell hasn’t been returning my messages and I really need to speak with him. We invested in this tiny condo when we were newlyweds, and I put it up on the market last year. It finally sold and—” Our gazes meet and she stops suddenly, realizing none of this is really my business. “Sorry, I’m an over-sharer. Don’t ever sit by me on an airplane or I’ll chat your ear off the whole flight.”

  “It’s okay.”

  She flashes a remorseful frown. “You probably just want to get back to your lunch, but I was hoping you’d help me track him down. He wasn’t in his office when I went up to speak with him after the surgery, and his assistant said she couldn’t tell me when he’d be back. Also, she sort of yelled at me to leave him alone.”

  I resist a laugh. Matt probably needs peace and quiet after the week he’s had. Patricia is likely scaring everyone away on his orders.

  “Yeah, Patricia’s fiercely loyal. She’s been with him since he started here.”

  “What about you? Have you two been working together for long?”

  I was wondering if our conversation would veer in this direction. In fact, I’ve sort of been dreading it. I could smile and tell her I just started working with him, or I could be honest and volunteer that he and I aren’t just coworkers. I really want to choose the first option, but I’ve never been very good at deception.

  Not to mention, this meeting could be used as an opportunity of sorts, one I might not ever get again. Perhaps I’d be silly to pass it up because Victoria knows more than anyone what it’s like to be in a relationship with Matt, and right now, I could definitely use some advice.

  So, I take a deep breath, put down my sandwich, and lay out the truth. “Matt and I aren’t just coworkers. We’re dating.”

  Her brows arch and she blinks a few times in quick succession. I think I’ve really surprised her.

  “I didn’t know Matt was dating.”

  I blush. “It’s new.”

  She waves her hands hurriedly. “That came out wrong. I just meant I wasn’t aware he was even interested in dating, let alone dating someone seriously. What’s your name?” she asks tentatively, and I’m surprised to find it’s not speculation or annoyance in her eyes—it’s curiosity, and maybe even a little relief.

  “Bailey.”

  She smiles. “Can I be honest with you, Bailey?”

  I nod, bracing myself for some salacious piece of gossip that will tear through my heart.

  “You seem like you’re too sweet for Matt.”

  Funny. Most days I think it might be the other way around. No one at New England Medical Center would believe me though. In this building, he walks around like a hulking beast with a short fuse and a ferocious growl. They have no idea of the man he truly he is.

  “Matt’s told me a little bit about your relationship,” I venture, curious to see her reaction.

  “Oh god,” she groans. “I was a real bitch there at the end. I hope he didn’t paint me too poorly.”

  I smile. “Not at all. He actually puts a lot of the blame on himself.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.” She leans back in her chair and nibbles off a bite of chocolate. “We were both young. We wanted different things.” Her gaze shifts and she studies me as if contemplating her next words very carefully. Then she continues solemnly, “Matt’s not ever going to change. Work will always be his mistress and you’ll always have to look the other way. When we were married, I tried to keep myself busy. I volunteered at the library and got a part-time job. I never wanted to be a nag when he didn’t show up for dinner or missed my calls. I really toughed it out for a while, but in the end, I just couldn’t see what the allure was for him. I couldn’t understand why he couldn’t prioritize me over his job.” She shrugs. “But he worked himself ragged then. Maybe he’s different now.”

  I think of the spare pillow and blankets in his office and laugh. “He’s not.”

  Her mouth twitches in disappointment. “I’m not trying to warn you away from him, honestly. Matt just always seemed slightly out of my reach even when we were married, like I always loved him a little more than he loved me. It drove me crazy. I guess I just want to be sure you know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

  I look down at my hands and let her words settle over me. She’s not exactly telling me anything I didn’t already know. I half-expected her to launch into a tirade about all his idiosyncrasies like ex-spouses do when they’ve been pushed well past their limit. Here’s another thing: he never put the toilet seat back down after he went to the bathroom! And is it that freaking hard to load your dish in the dishwasher instead of leaving it in the sink?

  This warning about a man who is devoted to his work is exactly the version of Matt that tugged on my heartstrings in the first place.

  “It’s funny, I hadn’t really thought about it until now, but it makes perfect sense for him to fall for someone like you.” I jerk my gaze back to her and find that she’s been studying me intently. “You’re beautiful, obviously, but it’s more than that. You seemed so competent in that operating room earlier. I stood in the back of the gallery and watched the way you two worked together, almost as if you were one person instead of two.” Then she laughs, thinking of something. “And God knows you won’t have to worry about spending enough time together. That surgery lasted forever! I was tired just watching it.”

  I smile and just then, a deep voice calls her name near the entrance of the building. She turns and waves cheerfully. Meanwhile, my heart lurches in my chest. I lean forward so I can peek one eye around the wing of the leather chair and watch as Matt veers from his route toward the elevator bank and makes his way over to us. My eyes widen. My heart starts racing. Should I lean back and pretend I don’t see him? Make a mad dash for it?

  With the subtlety of a freight train plowing straight into me, Matt’s attention swoops in my direction. The surprise on his face vanishes. His blue eyes cloud over and now I swear he’s taking even faster, longer strides. The ball of tension I’ve been living with all week is back and bigger than ever.

  He reaches us and comes to stand beside my chair, gripping the top edge. I peer up at him from beneath my lashes but don’t say a word. From this angle, his jaw looks especially chiseled.

  Victoria is actually the first one to speak, and her voice is light and amused when she explains, “I’ve just been chatting with your surgical assistant, Matt.”

  The look he aims down at me cuts me deep. Furrowed brows, sad eyes—it’s like he thinks I introduced myself to her as his surgical assistant and nothing more.

  “I also told her we’re dating.”

  Well…we were.

  Relief floods his gaze before he turns to Victoria.

  She’s beaming at us.

  “You two make a striking pair in your matching scrubs,” she says, waving her hand up and down us. “Though I have to be honest, I already told Bailey she’s way too good for you.”

  He smiles tightly and shakes his head. “Well, let’s hope she doesn’t listen to you. I hear pregnancy brain is a real thing.”

  She tosses her head back and laughs, and I sit like a statue, suddenly uncomfortable to be sitting here with them. Maybe I should give them a moment of privacy. I shoot to my feet and my sandwich hits the ground with a dull smack.

  Oh, right, my lunch. My stomach lurches in protest at the sight. I couldn’t finish it now if I tried.

  Matt’s hand hits my shoulder and his grip is just the slightest bit too tight. The message is clear: he doesn’t want me to leave, but I need to. I want to give them the chance to talk, and I want to absorb what Victoria just told me. I want to gather myself a bit before I have to speak to him in full, comprehensible sentences.

  His gaze implores me to stay, but I shake my head and step out of his reach. “You two have things to discuss. I’ll be up in your office.” His brows rise in shock at my promise, and I offer a reassuring smile before turning to Victoria. “It was really nice to meet you.”

  She grins and hands me the last half of her chocolate bar. “Want it? For the road?”

  Of course I do. I eat that chocolate bar on my way up to Matt’s office and I half-expect Patricia to block my entrance, but I breeze right past her as she continues flipping through her magazines.

  “Been wondering when I’d see you again,” is all she says before I shut his door behind me.

  I stand there at the threshold as my gaze sweeps from the couch to his desk to the open bathroom door. Memories fill every nook and cranny as Victoria’s words replay in my mind.

  Matt’s not ever going to change.

  Work will always be his mistress.

  It makes perfect sense for him to fall for someone like you.

  The way you two worked together, almost as if you were one person instead of two.

  Yes, Matt’s passionate about his career and he’ll always be pulled in a million different directions. He won’t answer every one of my calls or be able to make it home for dinner every night. I’ll always have to share his attention. For some people, that might be a deal breaker. For me, it only solidifies what I already love about him.

  I understand Matt in a way not many people do. I’d never ask him to pick me over his career. It’d be like trying to split a heart in two. Matt lives and breathes medicine, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. In fact, it’s enough for me just to be a part of it, to watch him save lives, to walk alongside him as he strives to make a difference in the world around him. I want to help carry some of the burden. We could build that clinic together. I could be his right hand in life just like I’m his right hand in the operating room.

  We’re a perfect fit, and maybe I’m the last one to realize that.

  Maybe it’s time I tell him exactly how I feel.

  When he throws open the door to his office a few minutes later, his eyes rove wildly across the space, looking for me. I push up off the couch as he steps in, and he sighs with relief when he sees that I fulfilled my promise to wait for him here. He shuts the door, and the heavy wood shoves my good sense and restraint out into the hallway. All that’s left is the wild beat of my heart, my feet carrying me toward him in quick strides. Without a moment’s hesitation, I fling myself into his arms.

  My face is buried in his scrubs. I inhale his cologne as his hand caresses my hair. His arm is clamped around my waist and we stay like that for so long, just breathing one another in. My feet are a few inches off the ground. His chest is broad and warm. I think he took the stairs to get up here—he’s breathing heavy and his heart is racing and I’m floating and Matt’s telling me he’s sorry again for doing this to us, for keeping a secret, for our shit luck and bad timing.

  I squeeze my eyes closed and wrap my arms around his neck and hang on, hang on, hang on to him and to this moment before real decisions get made. Life continues outside his office, but right now, it’s just us, squashed together so tightly neither one of us can catch a full breath. He sets me down slowly and his hands cradle my face. He tilts my head up and I wet my bottom lip instinctively.

  “Bailey.”

  He sounds hoarse, and there’s a deep crease between his brows.

  My hands fist the front of his shirt and I’m up on my toes, eyelids fluttering shut as his mouth descends on mine.

  Our kiss is slow and gentle, a testing of waters. I’m the one to increase the tempo. “I need this,” I beg breathily, and Matt delivers. My knees buckle as the kiss intensifies. Our tongues touch and there’s a flutter in my stomach. I have a need only Matt can satisfy with his big hands and his impatient growl. I’m lifted up off my feet again and carried to his couch.

  God, we have so much to talk about, but even more than that, we have moments to make up for. Moments we lost this last week. Moments in which his mouth drags down my neck. Moments in which his hands dip under my scrub top and untie the little bow at my waist. My pants are loose enough that it’s easy for him to slide his hand down, skimming across the seam of my panties and then confidently dipping his hand right past it.

  We absolutely have to stop. We’re in his office in the middle of a work day. The sun gleams bright through the window behind his desk and I can hear Patricia on the phone outside, yet my hands are tugging angrily at his scrubs. I want to shred the fabric into pieces.

  I’m stripping him quickly, but he still beats me to the punch. Our clothes are kicked off and forgotten on the floor and Hello, Matthew’s firm ass. I’ve missed you.

  Cold leather hits my back as he lays me down. Our fingers entwine as his mouth finds mine and then he forcefully moves my hands up over my head and holds them against the cushions. His hard chest crushes me and our hungry kisses turn hot and teasing. I’m an animal as I bite his lip and grind my hips up against his.

  More.

  He lets go of my hands and I hook my arms around his neck, keeping him pressed against me as his knee spreads my thighs apart. He skims a hand down across my breasts, teasing each one before he moves down to my navel…and then lower. My eyes squeeze closed as his middle finger finds my wetness. Slow, torturous circles spin me right out of control. I arch my back and meet his hand, encouraging him to continue, and I think he’s as impatient as I am because our foreplay lasts about thirty seconds and then he’s finding his wallet. I yank it out of his hand and find the condom tucked inside. No, crap—he’s better at this than I am and now I’ve delayed us even longer. He laughs as he takes it out of my hand and rolls it onto his hard length. My tongue lolls out of my mouth and my eyes are as wide as saucers, but he’s too focused to notice my reaction. Thank God.

  “Bailey?” he asks gently, glancing up at me from beneath his dark brows.

  I wish I could frame a photo of him exactly as he appears in this moment. With his black hair tousled from my hands and his lips dark red from my kisses, he’s my fantasy come to life.

  I nod and bite my lip, more than ready when he slowly thrusts inside me.

  It’s there, in that slow roll of his hips, in the deep, real connection that I finally feel clarity sink into my bones. I grip his cheeks and force his gaze up, and then I say very simply, “I want to come with you.”

  He’s shocked—obviously—because he stops mid-thrust and asks me to repeat myself.

  I laugh and kiss him quickly. “I want to come to Costa Rica. It’s wild, but not totally out of the realm of possibility. I’ve been looking into it all week.”

  His eyes betray how taken aback he is by my words. “Are you serious?”

  I nod and run my fingers gently down his back. I can’t believe we’re having this conversation right now. In this position.

  “I still have to talk to Josie. If she doesn’t want to go, if she doesn’t want to leave her friends, I won’t make her.”

  “Of course. I know that. I would never ask you to.”

  “So I might have to stay…”

  I think we’re about to discuss whether or not we’d try out long distance but he completely blindsides me.

  “If you stay, I’m staying too,” he says calmly, confidently, as if his mind is already made up. “I’ll turn down the grant.”

  “Matt,” I say incredulously.

  “Bailey,” he replies, mimicking my tone.

  “You have to go.”

  He starts to move again, slowly dragging himself out and thrusting back in. I arch my back and he smiles, happy about my reaction.

  “There’s no point in trying to talk me out of it,” he continues. “There will be other grants and other opportunities like this. There is only one of you.”

  I shake my head but he picks up the pace, and my body isn’t quite sure what it’s supposed to be focused on. My heart breaks at the idea of him giving up on Costa Rica, and yet I can’t quite think of a logical argument to use against him because it’s impossible to stave off this orgasm for much longer and then he makes it that much harder when his hand moves to my breast. He rolls his palm across my nipple and every thought flies right out of my head.

  No! I chide myself. This is important!

  “This is still so new. We could still crash and burn so easily,” I point out as his hand moves down between my legs.

  The side of his mouth hitches up in amusement. “Maybe. I’ve heard I’m pretty hard to tolerate. You’ll probably get sick of me soon enough.”

  “Ma…Matt!”

  I mean his name to come out as a reprimand for not taking this conversation seriously enough, but midway through it changes into a moan because his finger finds the exact right spot between my thighs, just above where he’s sliding in and out of me.

  “What?” he taunts, brow quirked.

  He’s daring me to continue this, to try to come up with sentences that have nouns and verbs and all I can do is pinch my eyes closed and grip his muscled shoulders as his finger speeds up and my orgasm builds to a mind-numbing, all-consuming, going-to-scream-if-you-don’t-cover-my-mouth ending.

  His mouth crashes down onto mine as I start to shake. Over and over again, sparks of pleasure shoot through me and my orgasm becomes his and he’s right there with me, coming hard and kissing me to the point of pain.

  For every moan we stifle, we take it out on each other with our hands and our mouths and his hips grinding me into the leather couch. I’m sweating and breathing hard as I flutter my eyes open and find myself back in Matt’s office.