Page 7 of Blind Date with a #Doctor (Love Canyon: Blind Date #3)
Aspen
I swear I’m being set up by the universe—or Nan. I don’t see her lurking behind the pastry case, so this time I’m going with the universe. Because there is no other explanation for why I keep running into Carter Reed and why every time I do, he looks better than before. It’s frankly unfair.
I just wanted coffee. That’s it. A quiet morning, a little caffeine, maybe a moment of peace before diving into work.
I did not need to walk in and see him sitting at a corner table, looking annoyingly good in a Henley and jeans, sleeves shoved up to his elbows in a way that should be illegal. When he sees me his mouth curls into a slow, knowing smile.
“Well, well,” Carter says, leaning back like he owns this coffee shop, like he expected me to walk in. “The farmer’s market yesterday and now the coffee shop?”
I groan, tugging off my sunglasses as I step into the line. “I’m starting to think you’re following me.”
smirks. Slow. Amused. Dangerous. “That’s funny. I was about to say the same thing.”
God help me. His voice, that low, teasing rasp, that’s something I cannot think about in public.
“Please,” I scoff. “If I were following you, you wouldn’t even know it.”
Carter raises an eyebrow. “Aspen Hayes. Are you telling me you have stalking skills?”
“I’m a lawyer. I have research skills.”
“Terrifying.”
“Necessary,” I add.
The line inches forward, but I’m barely aware of it, I can still feel Carter looking at me. I should leave, but I don’t. Instead, I grab my coffee and slide into the seat across from him. Evidently, I have no sense of self-preservation.
Carter doesn’t blink. Doesn’t hesitate. Just leans in slightly, forearms resting on the table, gaze locked on mine like this is exactly where he wanted me.
“So,” he says, taking a slow sip of coffee. “Since we’re in the habit of running into each other, I have a question.”
“Okay.”
“You look like you’re headed to work,” he nods at my briefcase. “It’s Sunday, you know, the weekend?”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t stop watching his mouth. He catches me looking, and his lips twitch like he knows. And damn him, I think he does.
“I have an early case meeting tomorrow,” I say, forcing my attention back to my coffee. “Working on a Sunday is normal, but I’m not obligated. I can take the whole weekend off if I have something to do.”
“Like getting coffee and flirting?”
I nearly choke.
Carter grins.
I narrow my eyes. “Like running errands.”
“Mm.” He nods. “Sure.”
I groan, but I don’t correct him, mostly because I don’t want to lie.
He studies me for a second, long enough to make my skin feel too warm. Then, casually, he asks, “You always work a lot?”
“Not always.” I hesitate. Then I tell him the truth. “I used to be worse about it,” I admit, swirling my coffee absently. “Back when I was trying to prove myself as a junior associate. It’s a hard habit to break, I guess.”
Carter doesn’t blink. “Still proving yourself to someone?”
for the first time since sitting down, I don’t know what to say. I hadn’t thought about it. Not like that.
Carter just watches me, waiting, not pushing. I like that he wants the real answer. I clear my throat, forcing a smirk. “You’re good at this.”
“Good at what?”
“Getting people to open up.”
He smirks right back. “Occupational hazard.”
“Do your patients enjoy the interrogation?”
Carter’s eyes flick to my lips, quick and subtle, but I see it.
“Usually,” he murmurs. My stomach tightens thinking about him interrogating me without a shirt on. I glance away, pretending to check my phone, pretending like I’m not seconds away from kissing him right here in public like some reckless idiot.
I swear I see his lips twitch like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“Well,” I say, standing quickly, before I do something insane. “This has been a very insightful therapy session. I should probably pay you.”
Carter leans back in his chair, gaze still warm, still too much. “I’ll bill you later.”
I shake my head, but I’m smiling.
And so is he.
I make it to my car. Barely. I have to sit for a second, both hands gripping the wheel, my coffee forgotten in the cup holder. Because what the hell was that? Carter was looking at me like he wanted me.
I blow out a slow breath, willing my heart rate to settle. My phone buzzes and I grab it quickly thinking it might be Carter. It’s Kendra.
Kendra: Stop thinking about him.
I snort. Too late. How she knows that’s what I’m doing I’ll never know. It’s like she has a sixth sense.
Me: It’s not like that.
The problem is it’s exactly like that.