Doctor Daddy Chapter 7
MARK
I leaned against the hood of my Maserati, waiting. What was I doing? I canceled my appointments immediately following the office’s lunch break, giving myself an extra hour and a half, all for this girl—no, this woman.
There was nothing girlish about Brooke anymore. Not in the way she looked. And sure, as hell not in the way she moved. She had a woman's full lush body with all the right curves in all the right places, and she knew what to do with them.
The weather was a touch too cold and wet to be waiting out here for long. I tugged the collar on my jacket up, covering the back of my neck, and settled in to wait. It wasn't as if I was eager or something.
I was definitely up for something. I was beginning to think I was making a fool of myself. I couldn't get her out of my mind. It had to be a fascination with the sexy attitude that she had brought with her to the gala that evening. That dress she had worn was something else.
Fuck it. If all this was simply a fascination over a gorgeous woman in a sexy dress, then why was I acting like some kind of schoolboy with a crush when I saw her in the mornings? She wasn't dressed to seduce wearing those scrubs. But my libido reacted as if she were.
“Sorry, have you been waiting long?” Brooke asked as she strode out to meet me.
She was wrapped in a thick woollen coat, and a scarf wound around her neck.
“Cold or trying to be cool?” She reached up and tugged at my coat collar.
“Get in the car,” I ordered. I stood up and walked over to the passenger door and opened it.
“I don't think so, Doctor Mark.”
“I'told you to call me Mark. I'm not your doctor.”
I'stared at her and willed her to get into the car.
“I said I would meet with you after I got off work. Not that I would go anywhere with you."
“I thought I could buy you lunch?”
She crossed her arms and shook her head. “I don't think so. You had only asked me to meet after work and not proposed going out, 50 why would I go anywhere with you?” She stared at me.
“Oh, come on Brooke, you know you can trust me.” She was playing games. Why had I bothered with a younger woman? I stared back. She had a perfect heart-shaped face, with a little chin and a mouth that was made for kissing, that's why. “You've been hot and cold, and ignored me for almost an entire month. Why would I assume anything from you? Most molesters are known to the family.”
“I'm not a molester Brooke." I closed the car door. She was going to drive me nuts.
“I know you aren't. I was just pointing out the fallacy in claiming I could trust you when you haven't exactly proven to me tha you are trustworthy."
“And how exactly am I supposed to do that if you won't take the history we have together as proof?”
“What would you do for someone you haven't known for years? You'd ask her out. You haven't exactly tried that yet” She held her hand out as if she were presenting me with a great secret.
I mimicked her motion. “Brooke, will you go out with me?”
She scrunched up her face the exact same way her mother did, only on her it was incredibly adorable.
“I'll think about it” She turned on her heel and bounced away.
I'stared gob smacked at her retreating back. “Brooke!”
She waved at me over her shoulder and kept on walking. I slumped against the side of my car and watched her.
Hours later I found myself complaining to my brother, David.
“I don't know what to do about this woman.”
We had reserved court time at his church's community center. He tested out a few of the balls, there were always one or two flat ones that never seemed to hold air pressure.
He tossed me the ball and I began dribbling. I wasn't doing much more than warming up my hands when from the left, Peyton DeBoise, reached in and took the ball from me.
“Are we playing or standing around bitching?” He laughed as he ran down the court and took a shot.
Ifelt a flutter of vindication as he missed with the ball bouncing off the rim and sending him hurrying after it.
“I'm playing, Mark is whining like a little girl
“I'm not.” Which was the wrong thing to say, and the wrong way to say it.
“What's Mark whining about this time?” Jeff, who knew David from church and played with us regularly, said as he joined us. “He's got girl problems,” David said. He popped the ball out of Peyton's hands and ran with it down the court.
We followed, Peyton and Jeff teamed up, as I was relegated to being on David's side. I put myself between David and Jeff in an attempt to give my brother an opening to take a shot.
He leapt into the air and sunk the ball into the hoop.
“What is this high school? You take her out, you show her a good time” Peyton threw the ball back into play.
lintercepted it and headed back around to take a shot. “I kind of f****d things up with her”
“Language,” Jeff admonished me. He managed to also fuddle my shot.
I rolled with my back against his arm and tried to reclaim the ball.
“Right, church, sorry, man."
“So, you messed up. If she’s worth it, apologize and try again.”
Itwas a little surreal having Peyton give me dating advice when he didn't realize I was talking about his daughter.
“Do I know this woman?”
I made an indistinguishable grunt. It could have been yes, it could have been no. It definitely wasn't I'm talking about your daughter!
Peyton took a pass from Jeff and headed back down the court. I jogged after him. He was already set up for a shot before I got my ass in position.
“Chocolate and flowers,” Jeff said between pants. “Women love chocolate and flowers.”
“No way. My wife is always on a diet. She gets mad every time I bring her chocolate. I once brought home cake to surprise he and she pouted at me for a week” David said.
“That's the difference between wives and girlfriends. Wives expect you to pay attention and know these things. How dare yo sabotage their dieting efforts? But women you are wooing, they appreciate all those little gestures of attention.”
I snagged the ball out from under Jeff. He stood with his hands on his knees and yelled through labored breath. “I give you quality dating advice and this is how you repay me?”
“He's got a point. Flowers, candies, that kind of thing until you know what she likes. And then, make a note of what flowers they were when she gasps. Those are the ones you keep buying” Peyton added.Content rights by NôvelDr//ama.Org.
“You buy your wife flowers?” David asked.
“Yeah, because she gets mad at me for buying her chocolate. You should try it. What are her favorite flowers?" Peyton asked. David shrugged. “I don't know. She likes purple.”
“How is it that you married the girl of your dreams and have four kids if you don't even know what kind of flowers she likes? My brother astounded me.
“She didn't marry me for my ability to buy flowers. She married me for..” He cast a glance over his shoulder before grabbing his crotch and giving it a shake. “You know what I mean?”
“Language!” Jeff said again.
David held out his hands in a giving up gesture. “I didn't say anything”
“But seriously, how do you continue to court your wife?”
“I honestly have never thought about it.”
“You need to think about it if you don't want to be paying child support in five years. The D is only going to last so long, and then she's going to want someone who can help ease her load. She can't be expected to do it all without some kind of acknowledgment of your affection.”
David picked up the ball and began tossing it from hand to hand.
“So, you think I should start with flowers? Like, get some delivered?”
“They sell flowers at the grocery store. Pick some up on the way home. Do the dishes after dinner. Rub her feet while you watch TV. Little gestures like that go a long way."
“How did we end up talking about your married life when we started off talking about how to get the woman, I pissed off to £0 out with me?”
“Stop being selfish Mark. It isn’t all about you. I didn't realize my marriage was at stake until just now." He threw the ball at me and laughed.
“Stop being dramatic” I caught the ball and passed it right back.
“Is your little therapy session over now? Can we get back to the game?”
The conversation moved on from dating advice to complaining about the current hockey season. I couldn't get my focus bac on the game, the one we played or the one we talked about.
What kind of flowers would Brooke like?