Page 167 of The Doctors Will See You Now

Harlow was quiet as they served dinner, listening to the rest of the people at our table chitchat. I watched carefully as she picked through everything on her plate, one item at a time in an effort to pass more time innocuously.

Her timing couldn’t have been worse, though, as she placed the last morsel between her plump lips. The soft, welcoming beat of Sara Bareilles “I Choose You” filled the room, and couples trickled in to fill the dance floor. At the same time, Linda and my dad made it to our table to say hello.

“Scotty,” Linda said as I stood up out of my chair and pulled her into a soft hug.

“You look gorgeous as always, Linda.”

My dad scoffed and pulled her from my arms and into his own. “Tanner!” she squealed adorably.

“He’s trying to steal you,” my dad teased, and Linda blushed.

I shrugged. “I know a good woman when I see one.”

“Must be from all the practice,” Harlow said—unsuccessfully—under her breath.

Linda’s eyes widened, but both my mom and dad laughed outright.

Harlow flushed with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Shepard—”

“No, no, dear,” my dad comforted, pulling her to her feet and giving her a once-over from top to toe. “All you’ve done is prove my son right.”

She blushed an even deeper hue of red as my father gave her a nudge into my arms.

“Come on, son. Join us out there for a dance with your good one,” Tanner Shepard said with a wink.

Harlow was visibly uncomfortable, and I clung to it. Normally, an insinuation of a serious relationship on my father’s part would have made my teeth ache in discomfort, but somehow, knowing Harlow wasn’t clinging to hope at every syllable made me feel completely at ease.

“Yeah, doll,” I said, pulling Harlow’s front flush to my own. She glared. “Let’s dance.”

Skimming slowly down her arms from top to bottom, I linked my hands with hers and pulled them up to settle on my shoulders. A deep crevice of a wrinkle formed between her eyebrows, like a canyon carved by an angry river, but with so many bystanders nearby, she didn’t fight me physically or verbally.

Once her hands were settled, I moved mine back down the sides of her dress, smiling as an unconcealed tremor ran through her at the sensation of my touch, and clamped them tightly to her hips.

Just about boiling over, she opened her mouth to speak, but I was too quick, spinning her rapidly around and around as we traveled to the center of the floor.

Her fingers dug in on instinct, hoping to keep herself steady, and I smiled as I slowed us to a stop and changed direction into a gentle sway, pulling our bodies even closer together. She pushed against my shoulders to fight it, but as the song faded to a close and Etta James “At Last” built in its place, her body melted.

It wasn’t me—at least, the dislike on her face didn’t suggest it was—but the song. Something about it made you give in. I could feel it in my body too, instinctively pushing closer to hers on its own accord.

Soft, warm, and willing, Harlow’s body was everything her mind refused to be around me.

She leaned in even closer as I spun us, softly this time. Light flickered as it filtered through the other couples on the floor, and my hands tightened on her hips like a reflex.

She feels good. Christ, maybe too good.

We moved in perfect time with one another, and her eyes held mine like she could read all of my secrets—my past and present, my hopes and dreams…even things I didn’t know about myself.

So lost in it all as the song came to a close, I jolted as she separated our bodies, almost violently, as the last note struck. As if it was Cinderella’s clock on the last chime of midnight, she left the dance floor at a near jog.

Not once looking back, Harlow was careful to leave nothing behind for me to hold on to—not even a shoe.

God, he feels so good, I thought to myself as I nestled even deeper into Scott’s arms while we danced. It’d been a long time since I’d actually let my defenses down and enjoyed the simple touch of a man.

Sure, I’d willingly gone on a date with Barron, and even let him engage in the world’s most traumatic oral foreplay, but I’d done that under the pretense of wanting no-strings-attached sex.

But, this, dancing with Scott, actually savoring his skin against my skin, wasn’t the same type of scenario. This was different. This felt like…something more.

His grip tightened as his fingers rubbed soft circles against my skin through the thin material of my dress. I shivered. And, surprisingly, found myself fighting the urge to moan out loud.