The door to the examination room opened, and there stood Noah. He’d removed the paint from his face, but his clothes were the same. Mateo didn’t know this man. Yes, it was his husband, yet not. He raked his gaze over Noah. He always appreciated his muscular body. Always enjoyed the hard lines and the way his lover cradled Mateo’s body to his. He figured Noah had a gym fetish or had seen Mateo’s admiration and continued to go to please him.
The corner of Noah’s mouth kicked upward. The bastard. He should hate his husband. “I see Doc Rae got you fixed up.”
Mateo sniffed as he slipped off the table. “Shouldn’t have had to.”
The cocky expression on Noah’s face disappeared. “You’re absolutely right.” Noah brought one of his arms out from behind his back. “We found this while clearing the building. Thought you could use it.”
His bag with his initials emblazoned on the front—a present from Noah after he’d graduated with a Master’s in history and found his first teaching position. The well-worn leather satchel went with Mateo everywhere. It was like a security blanket of sorts. A way to keep a piece of Noah with him, even when his husband wasn’t home. “Ev-everything’s inside still?”
Noah nodded. “Computer screen is trashed, but the hardware is still intact. Scotty and AJ are working as we speak to get the hard drive into one of our heavy-duty laptops. Your notes and paperwork from your students are still there as well. I-I couldn’t find your glasses though.”
“I can get those,” Rae said. “As long as you can tell me who your optometrist is.”
“It’s Dr. Gibbs at Virginia Beach Optical,” Mateo replied.
“Perfect. I’m sure Asher can get them expedited to you.”
Mateo let out a breath of relief. “I am still furious with you.”
Noah held up his hands. “He good to go, Doc?”
She nodded. “He is. I gave him instructions for tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll check on the stitches—see how he’s mending.”
“Thank you,” Noah said. “I appreciate it.”
“You’re both welcome, she replied then hesitated.
“Spit it out,” Noah grumbled.
“Nothing,” she stated. “Mateo, remember to keep your stitches moist.”
“I will.”
“And, Noah?”
“Yeah, Doc?” Noah glanced at her.
“Be gentle,” she said while grabbing something out of the drawer beside her. “Also, be safe.”
He cocked a brow as she closed the distance between them. “Always, Doc.” She placed several foil packets into his hands, and Noah roared with laughter before leaning into Mateo, who stared at the packaged disks in his husband’s hands. “Should you tell her, or should I?”
TL Reeve
Facebook I Newsletter I Blog I Site I Twitter I Group I BookBub I Amazon
Michele Ryan
Facebook I Site I Twitter I BookBub I Group
Combined sites
Michele/TL Reeve I Apache County Shifters I Combined Newsletter
No comments:
Post a Comment