Page 27 of The Ampersand Effect

The praise only fueled the growing desire coiling inside her.

In a rush to downplay her skills—and inject a little comic relief—Grier blurted without thinking, “Well, I am very good with my hands.” Her body stiffened instantly, regretting the same cheesy come-on line she’d used the first time they met.

The captain’s body shook as she suppressed a laugh. “You asserted the same claim last week,” she smirked. And a few elongated seconds later, she added, “I believe that now makestwobody parts you’ve proffered for judgment this evening.”

Grier felt the world tilt beneath her and braced her body for the inevitable ground it was about to meet. But she stopped midair, confidently folded backward into a dramatic dip, orchestrated by the captain’s steady hands.

The fluttering in her stomach—typically present around the captain—contorted into a stampede. In the history of her life, Grier had never been able to follow someone’s lead on the dance floor. Now, dipped, her head swam, her heart raced, and that encouraging heat between her thighs emanated a deep, craving throb.

Nine

Tobin smoldered, watching the slow crawl of arousal flush across Grier’s neck. She wondered what else she could color with carefully laid words. Or lips. She relished the verbal sparring, catching the doctor in tongue twisters that she longed to lean forward and taste as they left her mouth.

“I wasn’t lying. On either count.” Grier trudged on, challenge evident in her tone—and in the way she unconsciously tightened her grip on Tobin’s hand. Tobin was reminded of how well their fingers fit together, as though the spaces between had been carved for each other.

“That remains to be determined. Both counts.” Tobin met her gaze, a challenge within.

Their banter was straightforward, but there was still a hesitation between them. Tobin sensed the doctor holding back, and she allowed herself the luxury to imagine it was patience, a quiet way of letting Tobin come to her. Not a lure to a trap, but with steady knowing.

Another Taylor Swift song followed suit. Tobin subtly adjusted their bodies, giving just enough space—the closeness of the previous song no longer required, but neither wanting tocreate too much distance. “I love this song,” she whispered with controlled excitement.

“22? Are you implying this is one of those nights we won’t be sleeping?” Grier arched a beckoning eyebrow at Tobin.

Tobin coughed lightly. “Anything’s possible, butthatis improbable. I prefer to actually know people before I spend my entire night with them.”

“You have principles. Noted. And appreciated,” Grier replied, boring her amber eyes into Tobin.

“But, you recognize Taylor, so that’s a point for you.” Tobin lifted Grier’s hand overhead and leveraged her into a swirl. Whatever Grier thought her hips did when she danced, she was inconceivably wrong. Tobin watched her dress shimmer as Grier’s body swayed under her lead, the slit flashing seductive glimpses of the smooth curve where hip met thigh. It was enough to make Tobin’s mouth salivate, instinctive and uncontrollable.

“Am I standing in the presence of a Swiftie?” Grier teased, holding them apart just enough for her thumb to graze the bare skin of Tobin’s exposed abdomen, just above the apex of her lapels. Tobin’s stomach clenched at the contact, an involuntary response to the lightning arcing across her skin under Grier’s touch, inches from her breast.

Tobin couldn’t stop the enormous smile that spread across her lips. She cautiously released the doctor’s hand and tugged back the cuff of her sleeve to reveal a grade-school-style beaded friendship bracelet that spelledI ?? TSin black and white block letters.

“I’m a bracelet-wearing member of the official TS fan club,” she declared. “And you?”

“I live with an eleven-year-old girl. Even if I wasn’t a fan, I’d be a fan. Ms. Swift has a stage, and she uses her voice to fight for those who can’t speak as loudly. Much respect.”

Grier’s confidence was doing dangerous things to Tobin’s already-sensitive libido. Heat radiated off her body, and her mind was whirling.

“Award the woman another point,” Tobin conceded.Could this woman really be real?

“You live with Delta?” she inquired carefully. They continued to dance, their ruthless banter softening for the moment.

“Yes. It’s not a long story, but it is a sad one—and one I’d prefer to share under different circumstances.” Grier was firm, but kind in her delivery.

“Understood.” Tobin twirled Grier across her outspread arms, guiding her from one hand to the other.

Something shifted in the doctor. When she returned to Tobin’s center, her body had stiffened, and she squinted her eyes as she formulated the words to her next question. Tobin’s heart caught in her throat.Did I take it too far with the living situation?Grier had opened the door with the Taylor Swift comment, but maybe she had crossed some sort of unreadable line.

You’re fucking this up.

“Who has the other half of your friendship bracelet?” Grier’s voice wavered, giving away the insecurity she tried to hide behind bravado.

Tobin barely heard the words leave the doctor’s mouth—soft, tentative, and almost swallowed. Her amber eyes were pleading with Tobin, searching for something she couldn’t quite name. Tobin’s heart compressed uncomfortably inside her ribs.Who did she think had the other half of the bracelet?

“My sister, Harrow,” Tobin said quietly. “She made them one night after a difficult mission, trying to cheer me up. It helped—and now I keep it to remind me of the ones I get to come home to, and to inspire me to try even harder to bring others home.”

The weight seemed to dissipate from Grier’s body. Tobin could feel it—the subtle softening of her muscles, the unspoken exhale against her skin.