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Dr. Morales nods and points at me. “I’m hoping for a fresh set of jokes on the next visit. I like you.” She smiles at both of us and walks out the door.
Briar steps down from the table. “What’s with the jokes?” She tries to wrap the paper sheet around her waist, but it tears. She scrambles to fix it.
“She liked my jokes.”
“Turn around,” she says, twirling her finger.
I hear the crumpling of the sheet and her sighing.
“Come on. They were funny.”
“Maybe a little bit.” She comes to my side, fully dressed. “Ready?”
“You don’t have to ask twice. It felt like a torture chamber in here.” I open the door for her.
“You weren’t the one with her legs spread and a giant dildo thing inside her.” She walks past me toward reception.
“That doesn’t sound so bad if you’re a woman.”
She stops and turns to me. “Then next time, we’ll stick the wand up your ass. Tell me how comfortable that is.”
I hold up my hands. “I meant torture chamber because your pussy was right there, and I couldn’t even take a peek or a lick.”
Her face flushes, and it’s the cutest thing.
“You’re thinking about my face between your legs, aren’t you?”
“No.” She spins around.
“You so are.” I grin.
She ignores me and makes her next appointment with a red face.
Yeah, I think Briar Adams might like me if even just a little. And I shouldn’t like that fact as much as I do.
Chapter Twenty-One
Briar
“I don’t think I’m going to go,” I say from where I sit on the couch with the remote in my hand.
All of the cousins and friends are meeting at The Hidden Cave tonight—the local dive bar. Gillian has already asked me ten times if I’m going.
Emmett plops down on the couch next to me. “That’s cool, I’ll stay in with you. Want to watch a movie?”
I swivel in his direction. “You go. I’m fine.”
“Why don’t you want to go?”
“Because I can’t not drink without someone asking questions.”
“Tell them you’re in recovery.”
I kick him. “That’s not funny, and Gillian already gave me a questioning look at Sunday dinner again when I said I didn’t want wine. I used to drink casually more often.”
He stands and holds out his hand. “Let me take care of it.”
“How are you going to take care of it?” I wrap the blanket around my lap tighter, settling in for the night.
