Ignite Me, Ice Captain

Perfect Candidate

The meeting with Rogers had drained her so much that she just wanted to crawl into bed— a nice bottle of whiskey tucked under her arm for company in case her mum called. She was surprised she hadn’t yet. Maybe Rogers was still too shocked to give the outcome of their meeting to the mothers.

As she made to close for the day, her phone rang. It was only Cassie.

“Hey.”

“Why does your voice sound so feeble? Was your day as bad as mine?” Cassie asked, sounding exhausted herself.

“Tell me about it.”

“Oh, um, nothing much. Just lost a big sale I was geared up to take.”

“Oh, sorry, girl.”

“Yeah. Sometimes, you win; sometimes, you lose. But no worries. More opportunities ahead. It’s not the end of the world. I’m off to console myself somewhere with loud music, free drinks, and smoking-hot jocks.”

The mention of jocks drew a grunt from her as she remembered she’d have to check on Logan Pierce before calling it a night. He was her most critical case, and she gave special attention to her critical cases.

“Coming along?”

She almost shook her head, forgetting Cassie wouldn’t see her response. Even thinking straight took more energy than she could spare. She couldn’t, for the love of God, imagine swaying on her feet all night to ear-splitting music.

She stood up, gathered her phone and the notebook detailing her patients’ progress—something she intended to go through if she woke up at dawn—and shrugged out of her white coat to hang behind her desk.

“Darling, have fun for both of us, but not too much, okay? I’ll just sleep off my bad day with a bottle of whiskey and turn up sick in a hospital bed tomorrow so my mum will regret ever conceiving me.”

“What happened to you, sweetie? Tell me.”

“I met my fiancé this evening. The guy my family wants me to marry. Dr. Denzel Rogers, PhD.”

“Oh, f**k,” Cassie burst out laughing. “He’s way out of your league, like, several IQs out.”

“And that’s not even his worst flaw. I’d bet anything his emotional intelligence is scraping bottom. I’ve never felt like a purchased commodity before, but today? I got the full experience.”

“Tell me you told him to shove his fancy proposal up his intellectual ass.”

“I did more than that. I told him he could never have me. Me being the slut he’d never want to associate his name with aside, I’m already knocked up by another guy.”

“s**t, Avie, did you have to go this far? You’re screwed.”

“Yeah. I’m waiting anxiously for my mum’s call, and it’s not going to be pretty,” she sighed, dropping her head helplessly against the hanger rack with a thud. “Actually, maybe the reason for the delay is that she can’t get through yet — not that Rogers hasn’t figured out how to break it to her. She could be in the hospital with a heart attack. Or dead.”

The twisted thought of her mother’s possible death bringing a smile to her face attested to just how close to the breaking point she really was.

“So what’s the plan here?”

“Pretty simple. Get knocked up for real, or the marriage talk is back on the table.”

“Good plan,” Cassie chuckled. “As a doctor, the possibilities are endless. Think of something.”

“Oh, sure. I guess I can whip up a hormone to mimic pregnancy symptoms. Maybe even get my stomach to bloat a little. Then, nine months from now, if no baby pops out, I’ll just be blindfolded, dragged before an officiant, and forced to say ‘I do.’”

“I was thinking more along the lines of getting someone to do it — not exactly brilliant, but so obscenely hot he gets a free pass for that. The kind of guy who’ll make every second count because, fact of life for him, his d**k does the thinking, not his head. He won’t overanalyze it if you walk up and ask him to screw you senseless — that’s his sport. And when it’s over, he won’t be the one looking back, wondering if he left behind more than just a memory. He’ll have a whole lineup of women waiting and won’t even remember your name.”

“Cassie, the club isn’t happening today.”

“Who mentioned anything about the club when you’ve got the perfect guy right under your nose?” Cassie purred-drawled, slipping deeper into her fable. “He’s out of the coma, according to the news. Or is that a lie? And being stuck in a bed right now, I’m sure there’s nothing more he’d appreciate from his doctor than a good f**k. Avie, the guy is your best choice. I even heard he he’s so dumb he failed badly in high school and couldn’t graduate. You’re looking at the most ideal person to use to throw this marriage discussion off the table. You can think about the consequences later, but darling, I bet you everything he won’t even know the baby is his when you get pregnant.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Another call came in. She pulled the phone away from her face to look at the caller ID. Sure enough, it was her mum.

“Logan Pierce.”

She’d have to continue the conversation with Cassie after her mum... or not. The talk with her mum could drag on all night.

She swiped to answer her mum’s call, dropping Cassie’s.

Time to leave. She’d need to be closer to her bed before the conversation with her mum got serious. She reached for her notebook on the table.

“Mr. Pierce!” She shrieked, knocking the book off the table. The phone in her hands was on the verge of falling off as well.

Her mum, unaware of the awkward situation she’d just found herself in, continued yelling.

“Avery, how did you get yourself pregnant?”

By accident, she’d hit the speaker button, so the ring in her mum’s voice echoed off the walls.

“Mum, I’m going to have to call you back.”

“Don’t you dare end this call without telling me how you got yourself pregnant.”

Her face grew hotter. Logan Pierce just sat in his chair, arms folded in a very relaxed manner, a nice looking smirk in place, thoroughly enjoying her discomfiture.

“Doing what I’m doing right now,” she growled into the mouthpiece.

“Avery! Are you having s*x? You, my baby girl?”

“Stop calling me that!” She hissed. “Mum, really, now is a very bad time. I’m busy. Give me ten minutes to get back to you.”

Her mum’s response was a squeak. Anyway, she’d deal with the consequences of her deceit later.

She looked up at the man in the wheelchair, panic creeping behind her otherwise composed exterior, wondering how much of her conversation with Cassie he’d overheard. Not Cassie mentioning him as a perfect candidate to father her half-dumb child because he only had half the brain in his head? Oh dear God, not that.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve had my fair share of family issues. Just a piece of advice—next time you want your mum to believe you’re having s*x, play an audio of some deep groans and talk less. That’s what happens during sex.”

She picked up her notebook. “I’ll remember that. Now, is there any reason you’re down here? Anything I can do for you? I thought you’d be in bed by now.”

“Yes, there’s something I’d like you to do for me. Sign my discharge papers. I want out of here by the end of the month, by which time I’m very optimistic I’ll be managing well with a walking stick, if nothing at all. I was able to stand for more than fifteen minutes today.”

She raised an eyebrow, genuinely taken aback. She made sure he was comfortable, ensuring his stay was a good one. What was influencing the rush?

“Let me quickly assure you, this has nothing to do with you or the quality of your service. I simply miss being in my own place. It’s been over four months. I miss my place, nothing more than that. My knee is healing, and for the rehab, I don’t need to remain an inpatient, do I?”

Of course not.

“I recognize that your establishment provides excellent care, so I’d prefer to continue my rehab with you. I already have a room set up for that purpose from when I first got injured. It should be quite easy to arrange.”

“We can arrange that. It’s not a problem. I’ll assign a specialist to visit you at your convenience.”

“Sweetheart, my arrangement is with you, not your clinic.”

“Uh... uhm... Mr. Pierce, I’m a very busy person.”

“Yeah, so busy you’ve got to lie about having s*x when you could actually be having some.”

He let that hang in the air for a few seconds — fleeting seconds that proved long enough for an image to slip, uninvited, into her mind: him, naked on her exam table, her straddling him.

“You promised my mom I’d be under your personal care. If you’re too busy to keep that promise, it’s on you to explain why I’ll have to sign up with another hospital.”

“I’m sure your mum will understand you made the call__”

“Not to discount also the number of people who’ll be speculating why I suddenly stopped my rehab here.”

“That’s way too low, Mr. Pierce.”

He smirked. “I’m sorry I’m not too clever to overanalyze things. I simply state what I want and expect it to get done.”