Page 13 of Blind Date with a #Doctor (Love Canyon: Blind Date #3)

Aspen

If someone had told me a few weeks ago that I’d be spending my Saturday morning curled up on Carter Reed’s couch, drinking coffee, and planning our weekend like we do this all the time, I would have laughed.

But here we are and it feels so damn easy.

Carter is sitting beside me, one arm stretched along the back of the couch, his fingertips tracing lazy circles on my shoulder.

I shift slightly, adjusting my legs beneath me, and his hand slides down to my thigh.

Not in a way that says I want to pull you into my lap and kiss you until you can’t think straight. It’s just natural.

I don’t know when we crossed that line—when it stopped being just fun and started being something real. I feel it in the way he touches me absentmindedly and in the way he always wakes me up first just so we can talk for a few minutes before starting the day.

He looks at me, with soft, sleepy eyes, like he’s not in a hurry to be anywhere else. “You ready to head to the farmer’s market?” he murmurs, squeezing my thigh gently.

I grin. “Do I ever say no to produce and pastries?”

Carter chuckles, shifting to stand. “Fair point.”

He stretches—long and lean, his sweatpants sitting way too low on his hips, his t-shirt pulling tight across his chest. Good lord, I need a moment. He looks down at me, smirks like he knows exactly what he’s doing, and holds out his hand.

“Come on, sweetheart.”

The morning is cool but bright, sunlight filtering through the rows of tents and booths as we walk side by side.

Carter holds my hand the whole time.

I glance up at him, at the way he’s casually holding a bag of apples in one hand, our fingers laced with the other, and suddenly I can’t stop thinking about how different things are. How I feel different, like maybe this is what I’ve been missing.

I squeeze his hand, and Carter looks down at me with a smile, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. He just leans in and kisses my temple, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Carter parks outside my building, shifts into park, and turns toward me, expression warm and lazy.

“You gonna be okay without me for a few hours?” he teases.

I smirk. “Barely.”

His grin softens and before I can reach for the door handle, he cups my face, tilting me toward him. He kisses me, slow, deep, and thorough. Like he’s making sure I’ll still be thinking about this when I’m getting dressed for my company dinner tonight.

By the time he pulls away, I’m breathless, slightly dazed, and gripping his shirt. Carter chuckles, smoothing a hand down my thigh.

“Go get ready, Aspen,” he murmurs.

And with one last lingering look, I force myself to leave before I drag him upstairs.

* * *

I’ve been thinking about that kiss all day. Which is why I’m standing in front of my mirror right now, smoothing my hands down the fitted green cocktail dress hugging my curves, thinking about Carter taking it off later.

I turn slightly, adjusting the thin straps, admiring how the deep emerald fabric clings in all the right places. And beneath it? A lacy, deep green lingerie set to match. I have plans for Carter tonight.

A knock at my door snaps me from my thoughts, and I exhale slowly before opening it. Holy hell. Carter is standing there in a perfectly fitted black suit, white dress shirt open at the collar, looking so damn good I might combust.

His eyes sweep over me slowly, dark and lingering, and when he finally meets my gaze again, his expression is pure heat.

“Damn, Aspen.”

I smirk, stepping forward to smooth his lapels. “Not bad yourself, Doctor Reed.”

His hands settle on my bare waist, thumbs brushing over the exposed skin of my back.

“How much time do we have before we have to be there?” he murmurs, voice low and teasing.

I laugh, tempted—so, so tempted—but I shake my head. “Behave,” I whisper. “For now.”

His grin is wicked and I’m ready for this night to be over.

By the time we arrive at the venue, I’m buzzing. Not from nerves or uncertainty, but from excitement. I’m proud to have Carter with me, proud to introduce him, proud to show him off.

And when we step into the ballroom, I tighten my grip on his hand, glancing up at him with a small, secret smile. He squeezes back.

I don’t even hesitate before leading him toward my colleagues. Because for the first time in a long time? I’m not scared of what comes next. I’m just ready.