Strange Medicine (Dr. Maxwell Thornton Murder Mysteries #1)(24)



My face warmed, and I grabbed a towel.

He sat in one of the chairs, and Grumpy woke up and waddled over to him. He scooped the puppy up and laughed as it licked his face. I couldn’t help but smile. I felt relaxed and unusually contented. When he glanced up, he caught me watching him.

“It’s not gonna be weird between us, I hope?” He quirked one brow.

I shook my head. “Not on my end.”

“Good.”

I exhaled a long breath. “Pizza really is a satisfying meal.”

He chuckled. “Right?” He reached over and lifted the pizza lid. Then he grabbed another slice with a grin. “I worked up an appetite.”

I scooted closer and finished off my slice of pizza too. We sat in companionable silence, listening to the breeze through the trees and eating our cold pizza. It had literally been years since I’d felt as relaxed. I often suffered from insomnia, but tonight, every inch of me ached for sleep.

When Royce stood and started to dress, I looked away for some silly reason. When he noticed, he chuffed. “Feeling bashful?”

“The moment has passed. I have to follow civilized norms again.”

He shook his head and pulled his jeans on. “Whatever you say.”

I glanced over at my discarded swim trunks. The idea of pulling those wet soppy things on didn’t appeal. Instead, I wrapped the towel around my waist as I stood. He pulled his shirt over his head and fluffed his hair. “Thank you for one of the best nights I’ve had in years.” His mouth curved in a genuine smile. “And I mean it.”

My chest tightened oddly at the sight of him, disheveled and sexy as hell. “My pleasure.”

He picked up Grumpy and walked up to me, waving the puppy’s paw. “Say goodbye, Grumpy. I don’t know when we’ll be asked back.”

“I guess we can play it by ear.”

“Sure.” He nodded agreeably. He glanced toward the table. “Can I help you clean up?”

“No need.”

“Okay. Well, in that case—” He leaned in and surprised me with a gentle kiss.

My stomach flip-flopped at the warm press of his lips. When it ended, I laughed nervously.

He squinted. “Now don’t go getting all squirrelly on me. We had sex. So what? I like you, and if I get the chance, I’ll be back in your bed pronto. Or your pool.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “You’re very forthright.”

“Yep. It saves a lot of confusion that way.”

We headed inside and then to the front porch. “I had a really good time,” I said, leaning on the doorjamb. “Maybe we can have pizza again some night.”

He laughed and skipped gracefully down the stairs.

“Do you want a flashlight?” It was now fully dark, and he probably hadn’t planned on getting home this late.

“I have one on my key chain if I need one.”

“Of course. You’re a man ready for anything.”

“Hardly.” He’d moved far enough that the light from my house no longer showed him. “Have good evening, Doc.”

The sound of his boots on gravel was really the only indication he was there. I listened until I couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore, and then I closed the door. The house felt twice as quiet and lonely now that he and Grumpy were gone. I went out back and cleared away the bottles and pizza carton. Then I went upstairs and took a shower.

I climbed into bed feeling tired in a nice way. My muscles were warm and loose, and my thoughts kept drifting back to Royce. He was an unusual man. I liked his easygoing nature and how he wasn’t afraid to show his feelings. My parents had always stressed emotions made you weak. But that definitely wasn’t the case with Royce. He had a quiet strength about him that was a nice change from some of the type A surgeons I’d worked with the past decade. A lot of powerful types thought they needed to be dicks in order to gain respect. Many people at my last position had considered me a jerk because I was opinionated and brusque, but I’d never been that way because I’d wanted power. It was just how I was. I found it almost impossible to fake politeness when I thought someone deserved to hear the truth. I guess that made me an asshole by default, but it wasn’t because I wanted power.

My lids were heavy with sleep, and I was just on the verge of nodding off when I heard something downstairs. I opened my eyes, my heart picking up speed as adrenaline pumped through my body. I sat up and threw back the covers. Had the sounds come from inside the house or outside? I couldn’t be sure. I tried to calm myself by thinking of all the things in the world that could make noise that had nothing to do with intruders with shovels.

It could easily be a raccoon trying to get into the trash cans, or maybe the wind had picked up. I peered out my upstairs window trying to see if I could glimpse anybody. But the backyard looked deserted and still. Okay, so my wind theory was out. I grabbed for the flashlight that I kept in my nightstand, vaguely noticing it felt sticky, as if something had spilled in the drawer. But I had bigger problems at the moment, so I ignored that inconvenience, and then crept down the narrow stairs, now armed with my trusty torch. Unfortunately the house was ancient, and the floorboards squeaked like a son of a bitch anytime you walked on them.

I winced when the stair creaked under my foot, and I froze, listening for any sound of life from below. It was hard to hear because the blood was rushing through my ears so forcefully. I controlled my breathing, but sweat trickled down my cheek. Damn I hated the sweltering summer heat of Texas. I moved farther down the stairs, reaching the ground floor. There was no bogeyman waiting for me or an intruder with an axe.

S.C. Wynne's Books