Page 24

CONAN

I pull into the parking lot and spot my McLaren, so I take the spot next to it.

“Why are you parking up, Conan?” Finn asks suspiciously.

“I have something I need Hallie to look at.”

He opens his door but stops to look back at me.

“Why couldn’t I just look?”

“You’re already late for work.” I shoo him away.

“Don’t distract her. I need her,” he warns.

I hold my hands up defensively.

“Swear.”

He huffs and slams my door shut, making the windows shake.

“Bastard,” I mutter.

I head in through the double doors and straight to the reception area.

“Oh. Hi, Mr. Quinn,” the redhead says sweetly, shoving her pastry to one side.

Placing my hands on the desk, I whisper, “Is Hallie free?”

She offers me a smile.

“Dr. Quinn already warned me you’d be here. Go and take a seat, she will call you out in a minute.”

“Cool. Thank you.”

I head over to the chairs and sit outside her door. Just as Finn comes out of his and calls for Mrs. Ellen Maple.

We lock eyes, and he glares, then switches to a smile for his patient.

Fucking psycho.

The little old lady trots past him and he holds back.

“Unless you want me to schedule you for heart surgery. I don’t wanna see you in my hospital again.” He points at me.

I clutch my hands over my chest.

“It hurts,” I whine.

That gets the attention of the other patients waiting.

“Enough. Behave.” He stomps over and leans down.

“Conan?” Hallie’s sweet voice is music to my ears. Finn straightens himself.

“Me.” I wave at her.

She looks between me and Finn with a frown.

“Everything okay?” she asks.

“Yes. Fine. I just need you to see my brother real quick. No idea what he’s done, but here he is anyway. Sorry.” He offers her an apologetic look.

He storms back to his office and closes the door.

“Don’t know why he’s got a stick up his ass today,” I tell Hallie as I stand.

“Probably because we’re here to keep people alive and ready for heart surgery, Conan.” She lowers her tone, looking over her glasses at me.

Dear God, she’s beautiful.

“You haven’t even—” She holds up her pen to cut me off and turns her back, waltzing into her office.

She heads over to her desk and takes a seat.

I close the door behind me, but she doesn’t turn around from her computer screen.

“Take your trousers off, Mr. Quinn,” she demands.

I bite on my lip, my dick starting to twitch in my boxers.

“You haven’t even asked what’s wrong with me? You wanna see the goods?”

She slowly spins in her chair, pushing her glasses back with a smirk.

“I assumed you’ve lost your balls, sir. That’s what you want me to look at?”

I blink at her, trying to ignore the fact that my cock is getting hard just looking at her.

Her caramel curls are pulled back into a bun. The black frames of her glasses just highlighting her brown eyes.

The clear gloss on her lips that I want to lick off.

The way her burgundy scrubs hide her curves that I know are under there.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

“My balls are perfectly fine, trouble.”

She shakes her head.

“They can’t be. Because if they were there, you’d have asked me on a date by now, rather than following me around and faking medical issues to see me.”

Well, damn. She really did catch me out. Well. Not quite.

I slowly pull up my top with a smirk, revealing the cut on my stomach.

“A scratch. You came here for a scratch?”

I shake my head.

“Knife wound.”

Her plump lips open, and she stands, taking a step towards me.

“It’s clean.”

Yeah. I should know; I did it myself.

“Does it need stitches?”

“Conan. That isn’t what your brother’s department does. We aren’t ER. We’re cardiovascular. I only patched you up that time as a favor for Dr. Quinn.”

I look down at her and pull my top back down.

“Yeah. I know,” I say quietly.

“Will I survive?” I whisper.

She giggles and grabs the hem of the T-shirt. I clasp my hand over her wrist.

“Maybe I just wanted to say hi,” I tell her.

“You could have just texted me.”

She looks up at me through her lashes, and I’m a goner.

“I prefer the real thing. And I like the chase.”

Her cheeks flush and I lean down.

“You look beautiful today, Hallie,” I whisper in her ear.

She clears her throat and taps my shoulder, so I straighten myself to stand.

“Sorry. Too much?”

She shakes her head with a smile.

“No. Just not at work, Mr. Quinn.”

I take a step towards her, backing her into the cabinet, so I rest my hand above her head.

“So when?”

I glance down at her gripping onto the side.

“We will figure it out, I guess. Keep chasing and see what happens.”

I pull away and nod.

“Whatever you want, trouble.” I push a stray curl behind her ear.

Her breath hitches, and I stare at her shining lips.

No. I’ll be good. For now. I just don’t know how much longer I can behave around her. I have to figure out what she wants.

But by the way she’s biting her lip and blushing, I’d say it’s the same as what I need.

“Your car should be ready in a couple of days, darlin’. I’ll let you know when it’s done. Me and Isabella are working on it tonight.”

She frowns and chews on her nail. I can’t help but smile.

“Isabella is my little niece. Declan’s daughter. She’s my little shadow at the garage.”

“Oh. I wasn’t?—”

She’s flustered, and it’s so fucking hot.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you soon, trouble.” I give her a wink as I head to the door.

“Your cut?” she asks, rushing back over.

“You know as well as I do, I need a band-aid at best for it.”

“Don’t cut yourself just to see me again, Mr. Quinn. Otherwise I’ll send you to psychiatric.”

I erupt into laughter.

“No shrink wants to see inside my head, baby. Trust me.”

She offers me a small smile and hands me a band-aid.

“I kinda wanna see,” she says quietly.

I grab hold of her hand, and we stare into each other’s eyes.

“I don’t think you do. I don’t think anyone does,” I tell her seriously.

It’s a fucking mess in my head. Grief, anger, and rage.

“Right. Okay. Let me know when the Shelby is ready, and I’ll swing by.” She snatches her hand away.

Fuck.

Did I say the wrong thing?

“Yeah, will do.”

As I open the door, I can’t help but turn around one last time to look at her.

“Conan. Thank you for making it safe for me to go home.”

“Anytime, darlin’.”

She runs her thumb along her bottom lip and I squeeze the handle tighter. Everything she does is a tease. Unlocking this feral need for her.

Before I do something stupid, I head out and close the door behind me.

The quicker I fix her car, the quicker I’ll have her at my garage.

And then I can do something about turning this friend situation into something much more beneficial to both of us.