Page 31 of Hold Me Instead (Elmwood Falls #1)

Charlie

Charlie set her glasses on the desk and leaned into her hands with a moan.

Rain pummeled the windows as unrelenting as her migraine.

The panes of glass glowed with the dreary gray of outside, her desk lamp angled at the wall to soften its slash of light.

She pinched her forehead with her pointer fingers and dug her thumbs into her temples. Nothing soothed it.

She had three more hours of appointments, an afternoon where she and Zachary were booked solid.

As unpleasant as it was, she’d worked through migraines before, so either way, she’d power through.

It made her reliable. A picture of self-care, she was not.

If she was lucky, the pain would dissipate by evening so she could tackle the final cookout details.

Fortunately, most things were in order for the event the next day.

“Have you guys—what’s wrong?”

Zachary’s deep voice jolted Charlie from her sad attempt at massaging pressure points, but she kept her head in her hands. His question echoed in her head, and she shivered, the pain dulled for a split second. Must be the deep breathing . Damn near sucked all the air from the room when he spoke .

“Headache,” Charlie mumbled.

“It looks like something knocked you out.”

“Thanks. Always nice to hear.”

The shift of his scrubs stopped, and a teasing nudge woke her shoulder. “Migraine?”

“Mmm,” she mumbled again, shoving her fingers in desperation. “What were you asking?”

His subtle scent filled her nostrils—thank God it wasn’t sweet because her head would explode.

His body was so close she wanted to tip to the side and curl into him.

If she hadn’t been acutely aware of him filling her space, she might’ve thought he’d left.

He released a resigned sigh just before his fingertips brushed her hand.

Charlie jolted at the contact, her hands dropping to the desk as she looked up at his concerned face. Her heart galloped, the pulse in her head increasing enough to make her wince. His eyes, an even deeper brown in the low light, tracked the movement.

“Aw, Charlie,” he said, voice almost tentative.

He crouched. His hand brushed aside wisps of hair and tucked them behind her ear.

He placed the other along her jaw, cool fingers cradling her like she might break if he held on too hard.

“Bear with me, okay?” Both his hands slid until the back of her head rested in them, fingertips squeezing her nape, thumbs pressing her temples.

She searched his face while he focused on his ministrations.

He hadn’t shaved again, the scruff on his jaw annoyingly arousing.

Why did he have to walk around so effortlessly…

Zachary ? Emitting that “oh I’m so sexy but don’t know it but really do” vibe that reeled her in willingly.

Wearing his white coat over navy-blue scrubs, all clean and sharp and hot.

She huffed in her head, closing her eyes lest they roll right out of their sockets.

But then she kept them closed, nearly whimpering at the comfort.

Her body was fully aware his hands were on her .

“Is this helping?” His voice was low, almost raspy.

Pressure increased, so every digit was actively trying to dull the pain. The scrape of his fingers in her hair, against her scalp, sent tingles down her spine.

Charlie cleared her throat. “Um.” Real clear , Charlie . That’ll get him to stop . Or continue . Whichever the hell you want because , really , you don’t know !

“Anna used to get these all the time. When she couldn’t get into acupuncture, she’d have me work certain spots. I don’t really know what I’m doing, I’m just trying to put pressure everywhere.”

Charlie’s eyes opened as his hands, now warmed from friction, relocated. Heat traveled down her neck with the path his fingers took until he dug into the muscles by her shoulders and clavicle.

“Fuck, Harris. You’re so tight. Is this good? Tell me what to do.”

Oh , those words . He had no idea they triggered a different kind of tightness in her body. She squirmed, trying to ease the tingling zipping from her stomach. The thought of his hands on more of her bare skin was too much.

“This is the best I’ve felt all day,” Charlie whispered, not wanting to disrupt the progress. Not wanting him to leave.

His eyes locked on hers, bounced between them. Her breathing was uneven, the thought of the woods had never been so sexy, and her stomach did a flip it hadn’t done in years.

Maybe six.

Zachary glanced at her chest in its paw print scrubs as it heaved, then locked on her lips. He hesitated a fraction of a beat, then leaned forward, his hand sliding up her neck.

“Dr. Harris? Oh! Sorry to interrupt.”

Charlie shot back in her seat as Zachary bolted to stand, and they both turned toward the neglected open door to see Maura standing there with a pinched expression.

“Oh! Oh no, what is it?” Charlie forced her jostled brain back in the game, while her body cried about the interruption.

“Mrs. Bergman is here.”

Apparently, a consistently panicked client was as effective as stepping into a freezing shower.

Mrs. Bergman had been a client since Daniel first opened his doors.

She remained his client specifically, save for the rare appointments where he was unavailable and she was desperate.

Neither woman was a fan of that situation, and she swore Mrs. Bergman felt personally insulted that Daniel had dared have a heart attack.

That migraine was back to full force without Zachary’s hands on her. At least now she knew the cure.

The sigh escaped her before Charlie could stop it. “What is it today?”

Maura straightened and cleared her throat, trying to maintain a professional composure that her eyes betrayed—probably dying to comment on the scene she’d witnessed. “Pickles hasn’t stopped sneezing yet.”

Charlie closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

She prided herself on the patience she carried with patients and clients, though, clients provoked her more.

Today, however, was not one of her better days.

Especially considering the woman had been in with her precious Pickles the day before. “Is she in a room?”

“Out front. We didn’t have one available anyway, and I tried to avoid bringing her back for something I know you can tell her in two minutes.” At Charlie’s raised eyebrows, Maura chuckled. “Okay, maybe five to ten for her.”

“I’ll follow you.” Charlie motioned Maura ahead, leaving Zachary behind and letting her frustrations duel in her head so they’d be out of her system before speaking with Mrs. Bergman. When she caught sight of the woman, though, she felt a stab of guilt.

Mrs. Bergman stood at the counter, the tiny Pomeranian Pickles cradled in her arms. The white ball of fluff matched Mrs. Bergman’s own wispy hair, but to ensure an even deeper familial connection, Pickles wore a sparkly pink leopard-print collar and tutu that coordinated with Mrs. Bergman’s large purse.

It was evident to anyone Pickles was her pride and joy, and since Charlie knew she was a widow with a daughter living out of state, the care and concern she felt for her pup ran into overcompensating territory. It was eccentrically sweet.

“Goodness gracious, Dr. Harris, I’ve been waiting forever. Didn’t Maura tell you it was urgent?”

Charlie’s guilt eased slightly. “What seems to be the concern, Mrs. Bergman?” She came around the counter and reached out to stroke Pickles under the chin.

“She hasn’t stopped sneezing. You said the medicine would help. It’s not. I’m worried she has something else going on.”

Keeping her focus on the dog, Charlie examined the fluffy ears and kept her tone professional. “She got her first dose at dinner yesterday, correct? We like to give it a full twenty-four hours to ease the sneezing.”

“That’s almost now.”

“She’s much more relaxed than she was yesterday. That’s a good sign. I’m betting later this evening you’ll notice an even bigger improvement.”

Mrs. Bergman shifted Pickles to her other arm. “Dr. Harris, I don’t believe this medicine is working. When Dr. Lee prescribed stuff in the past, it worked like that.” She snapped her fingers for emphasis .

Charlie straightened her stance and looked the woman in the eye, her headache pulsing.

“I know you’re concerned, Mrs. Bergman. Everything checked out yesterday, so there’s no need to worry.

It’s just a little cold that should pass over the next couple of days.

In the meantime, give her extra snuggles on the couch, curl up together with her favorite blanket, anything you can do to add to her comfort.

Make sure she continues to get plenty of water, and I guarantee she’ll sleep better tonight. ”

“Was ‘giving snuggles’ part of your official schooling, Dr. Harris? Dr. Lee would be appalled to know you’re running his practice into the ground.”

Charlie blinked back at the surprisingly snide tone. Difficult was common for the woman, but her stubbornness had never evolved into such rude behavior. Or tapped so directly into Charlie’s fears.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Bergman?”

Zachary emerged from behind the front desk. It didn’t matter how scruffy his jaw was or how rumpled his hair looked, he walked confidently toward them, like a younger version of his father. Which should’ve prepared Charlie for the reaction that followed.

“Why, Dr. Zachary Lee!” Mrs. Bergman exclaimed. Exclaimed . The woman’s entire demeanor shifted, worries of Pickles floating away on a judgmental cloud. “It’s so good to see you! I heard you were filling in for your father. How wonderful, he must be relieved.”

Charlie bristled, but before she could interject, Zachary replied.

“I can assure you everything is in Dr. Harris’s very capable hands,” he said. “I’m merely here to assist.”

“Perhaps you wouldn’t mind taking a look at Pickles?” Mrs. Bergman urged .