Polar Opposites

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

Who the hell knew that shifters can get poison ivy?

Donovan caught himself scratching at his chest again and cussed a blue streak.

He’d bathed, applied a gallon of calamine lotion, and still couldn’t stop the maddening irritation. A quick trip to the only pharmacy in town netted him half a dozen boxes of pills. He might as well have been eating peanuts. Nothing worked. His skin was indeed speckled with raised, red dots which alternated between throbbing and itching so bad he wanted to claw his hide to shreds.

A sleepless night followed, which put him at work early the next morning, not that it really did any good. No way could he do anything remotely involving concentration with such a huge distraction. His clothes aggravated the rash. Even his teeth itched, as odd as that sounded. Not a single inch on his body didn’t cry out for relief. Something had to help, though he had yet to find the remedy. If not, he was at the point of shooting himself.

That’ll teach you to tromp through the woods in search of Mr. Hot Tomato.

That’s hot tamale, Donovan corrected.

Whatever. His inner beast gave a derisive snort.

Mary walked in the door. The older lady wore a neon red shirt, old, worn jeans, and sported a tinted shade of light blue in her hair. Flashy and outrageous described the only other worker at the small, rural post office. She’d been there since the building was built. Considering a plaque on the side wall announced the grand opening date in 1950, that said something.

She reminded him of a chicken—small but plucky. Her scrawny legs only added to the resemblance. A stout wind could probably blow the little old lady well over the rainbow.

“What happened to you? Looks like you rolled in a pile of poison ivy.”

He bit back a snarky response. “I went hiking in the woods.”

She shook her head. “City folks, I swear. Don’t know poison ivy from a pound cake.”

Already irritable, Donovan held onto his patience with an iron will. “I’ve swam in an ocean of oatmeal and put a ton of calamine lotion on. Nothing helps.”

She pursed her lips. “With that many spots, I reckon you need some medical help.”

Donovan had thought the same thing, but didn’t have the gumption to drive to the nearest emergency room and sit for hours waiting to be seen.

“Doc can probably work you in.”

“Doc?”

“Yep. Doc Wood.” She grinned wickedly and fanned herself. “That man could put a stripper to shame. Easy on the eyes and a damn fine doctor too.”

“Then, he’s my man.” Optimism and a side of hope sprinkled over Donovan. “Now, where do I find this Adonis?”

Mary chuckled. “Main and Fort. Tell Emmy, his receptionist, I sent you.”

In a hurry, Donovan gave her a brief wave, and strode out the door. Relief waited just a couple of blocks away.

He passed the hardware and grocery stores, both separate buildings. Next came the row of businesses. A strip mall, though that wasn’t what they’d been called several decades ago when they’d been built. More like an old time Main Street that he’d seen in Wild West movies, with businesses adjoining one another and a long, wooden walkway in front. An overhang protected people from the bright sun or the falling rain during their shopping spree in the sector. Small stores made up the line. Clothing and garment repair, glassware, a boot place, and a vet who, from what Donovan understood, split his time between Forgotten and his main office in Cheyenne. A tiny tea room took up the end spot. They had sandwiches, too. Pretty tasty in his opinion.

He stepped off the end of the walkway, turned a corner, and was at his destination. After quickly scanning the writing on the door, which simply read, ‘Doctor,’ he walked in.

“Can I help you?”

He smiled at the dark-haired middle-aged lady that greeted him. Her strong voice and the way she looked at him told him a few things. Namely, she reminded him of a third-grade teacher. Polite. Proper. And with enough fortitude to set the worst misbehaving child into his place. He wouldn’t put it past her to be hiding a paddle in one of the desk drawers. “You must be Emmy. Mary from the post office sent me over.”

She eyed him for a long moment, then shook her head. “Rolling in poison ivy is detrimental to your health.”

He willed himself to play nice. “I figured that out.” He stepped closer to the desk. “Any way Dr. Wood can work me in? I’m really in a bad way.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Have a seat. I’m sure we can squeeze you in, considering the situation.”

“Thank you.” He accepted the clipboard and pen that she handed him, took a seat at the back of the empty room, and started filling out the paperwork. By the time he’d finished, she led him to an exam room.

“Have a seat on the exam table. Dr. Wood will see you shortly.” She quickly left, shutting the door firmly behind her.

The four white walls, sporting educational posters snared his attention for a couple of minutes. With no window to peer out, he quickly found himself bored and antsy. His little toe began to itch so bad, he kicked his shoes and socks off. That marginally helped. The irritation spread straight up his lower extremities and set off another furious itch between his legs.

Without a thought, he hopped off the table, unfastened his pants, and let them drop. His boxers followed. He sighed as the cool air brushed over the raw skin. His left little toe throbbed with the need to scratch. Unable to help himself, he bent over and rubbed.

The door opened with a click.

Donovan’s heart skipped a beat as he realized someone had entered to his bare, naked ass pointing in their direction like a fat bullseye. He peered over his shoulder, then gulped.

See, you didn’t have to tromp all over the woods to find him. You just needed to walk in here. His inner beast nearly crowed with amused sarcasm.

Shut up. Donovan snarled at his beast, stood, and offered up an embarrassed grin to the man who’d haunted his thoughts since the day before. “Hi, again.”

Dr. Wood appraised him with a keen, knowing eye. “You don’t take direction well.” He closed the door behind him and set the clipboard and paperwork on a nearby counter.

Donovan tugged his pants back up, ignoring the protest from his chafed skin, and turned to face the man. “I’ll admit I didn’t really know what poison ivy looked like. I do now.” Being up close, he noticed the man’s height, a couple of inches taller than himself, putting him easily over six foot. His hair was neatly combed, making Donovan miss the wild look fresh out of the water. Clothes covered that exquisite body. However, Dr. Wood’s scent was unmistakable and delicious. Donovan found himself wanting to lean in and get a good whiff. Only manners and the doctor’s off-putting demeanor stopped him.

“Good to know.” Dr. Wood went to a cabinet and pulled out a syringe, complete with attached needle encased in a sterile plastic cover. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Where would I go? Donovan peeked closer at the needle, then cringed. It appeared huge. He shuddered at the thought of what was to come.

The squeaking of the door announced Dr. Wood’s return. He shut it firmly, produced a small glass jar of clear liquid, then proceeded to open the syringe, stick the needle into the bottle, and draw up the medication.

Donovan watched with trepidation. “Isn’t there pills I can take instead?”

Dr. Wood glanced his direction. “Thought you wanted to stop scratching today instead of next week.”

“Good point.” Donovan swallowed. He took the time to check out the man who’d proven that gods really did walk the earth—at least in Donovan’s view. The same dark hair and expressive eyes fit Donovan’s memories. The knee length white lab coat, khaki slacks, and brown loafers were new. In truth, Donovan preferred Dr. Wood back in that stream, nude, with droplets of water trickling down his chest and back.

The image triggered his c**k to sit up and take notice. Donovan wiggled at the discomfort of a hard-on with the physician standing so close, needle in hand. He cleared his throat. “I’m not certain, but I might have overdosed on Benadryl.”

Dr. Wood cut him a look.

Donovan read exasperation and a hint of disbelief in the man’s face. Too bad. He’d dreamed of catching a glint of lust and interest as well. No such luck.

“You don’t have a clue, do you?”

The sharp question held a decisive bite, putting Donovan a little on the defensive. “I just moved here. Lived in the city all my life. So, I didn’t know what poison ivy looked like. Sue me.” He stared steadily into the doctor’s eyes, not about to be cowed by the surly man.

Dr. Wood grunted, finished pulling up the injection. “Drop those pants again.”

Donovan paused a second, then did as bidden. “This is going to hurt.” He made it a statement.

“Yep.” He jammed the needle into Donovan’s rear.

Donovan jumped at the sharp prickle, then sucked in his breath as the medication started to burn. Thankfully, a second later, the shot was done, leaving a feeling not unlike the sting of a bug bite behind. He squirmed in an attempt to ease the ouch, to no avail. As he dressed, he caught a brief glimpse of humor in Dr. Wood’s expression. Glad to know someone is having a ball.

Irritably, Donovan fastened his button on his pants, then put his socks and shoes back on. He turned around to find Dr. Wood staring at him with what appeared to be interest this time. They locked gazes, neither blinking nor moving for a few seconds. Those beautiful eyes with a few specks of gold in the brown base, called to him, spoke of an inner fire, a longing. As soon as they appeared, they were just as rapidly extinguished.

“Next time you decide to go hiking, let your polar free. His fur will protect your skin from the weeds.”

Donovan, his mouth dry, simply nodded. For that brief moment, he felt a connection. It had faded like the night giving way to the dawn. His mind began to track once again as he replayed the physician’s words back through his mind. “How did you know I was a polar?”

“I just do.” Dr. Wood dropped the used syringe into a red biohazard box hanging on the wall.

So much for chit-chat. Donovan searched for a topic of conversation to get the tight-lipped guy to talking. A quick idea popped into his mind. He arched an eyebrow and put on his best jesting expression. “You gave me a shot. Doesn’t that mean I get a lollipop or something?” Donovan grinned playfully.

Dr. Wood, swiveled, yanked open a drawer, and pulled a small piece of wood out. “Here.”

Donovan took the offered item. “A tongue depressor?”

“Don’t choke on it.” Dr. Wood turned to leave.

Donovan frowned. “You should work on your bedside manner. It frankly sucks.”

The doctor looked glared at him over his shoulder. “You should work on your survival skills. They frankly suck.” He slipped through the door, closing it soundly behind him.

With a frustrated cuss, Donovan left the room, heading to the front desk. Emmy hung up the phone, scanned his paperwork, and glanced up at him. “Looks like we’ll run this through insurance. What’s not covered, we’ll bill you.”

“Okay.” Donovan waited as she shuffled papers.

“Here’s a script. He said to get it filled at Filbert’s just down the street. They’ll have the right stuff you need.”

Donovan took the offered piece of paper. “Anything else I need to know?”

“Just that he said you should go straight to the pharmacy, fill your script, and start the pills this evening. Oh, and take the rest of the day off. He said that shot will work, but he had to give you enough to knock out a bear.”

He waited for a grin or smirk, indicating she got the pun. None of it came. He took a tentative sniff, deciding Emmy was one hundred percent human and probably not in the know when it came to her employer’s beastly nature. The greatest majority of humans fit into that category. For a good reason. Word got out that shifters existed, and shifters would likely become hunted. Not a nice scenario to think about. “I really should get back to the post office. I hate to leave everything for Mary to do.”

“What did I say about you following instructions?” The deep voice, despite being quiet, broadcast loudly across the room.

Donovan jerked his head up to meet Dr. Wood’s gaze. “I learned my lesson with the poison ivy. But, I’m more than capable of returning to work, at least for a little bit.”

“Downright stubborn.” Dr. Wood whipped off his lab jacket and hung it a nearby hook. “I’ll be right back, Emmy. After I get this hardhead home.”

“Yes, sir.” The phone rang, ending anything else she might have said.

“I don’t need a babysitter.” Donovan struggled between excitement to have more one on one time with the sexiest man he’d ever seen, and irritation at the guy’s condescending attitude.

“Come on. My next appointment is in half an hour. I refuse to be late.” He strode out the door and around the side of the building.

Donovan followed, not daring to argue with the command in Dr. Wood’s voice. Besides, he wasn’t about to toss away this perfect opportunity to perhaps learn more about the surly part time grizzly bear, part time physician. “I need to tell Mary…”

“Call her while I get this script filled for you.” Dr. Wood climbed into the driver’s side of a Jeep.

Not about to be chastised for dawdling, Donovan hopped into the other seat, automatically fastening his seat belt. The action pulled his shirt over his chest, causing a new round of itchiness to erupt. Automatically, he rubbed the area.

“Stop scratching.”

Donovan snorted. “Like that’s possible.”

Dr. Wood glanced over at him for a second, cranked the engine, then took off like a shot.

Obviously, the guy thought the speed limit signs were mere suggestions as he flew down the mostly vacated street. His driving skills impressed Donovan, as well as concerned him. A stray dog darting across the street would be enough to send them crashing at this kind of speed. As it was, Dr. Wood barely hit the brakes as he slid through a stop sign and zipped around a corner, nearly putting the vehicle on two wheels. Tires screeched as they sought purchase on the pavement. Donovan braced himself with the grab handle built into the door frame.

“Let me guess. Former race car driver?”

“What? No.” TJ slowed for a split second before hitting the gas again.

“Stunt man?” Donovan gritted out as he clung to the bar for dear life, praying the seat belt and frame on the vehicle held.

“No.”

“Moonshine runner in a prior life?”

TJ cut him a glance. “Got a problem with my driving?”

Donovan swallowed as they took another turn at an alarming pace. “Who me? Nope. Nada. I always wanted my ass strapped to a rocket and launched into space.” Sarcasm laced his words.

TJ’s lips twitched.

Maybe it was a good thing the injection had kicked in so fast. Without it, he would likely have already pissed his pants. On the other hand, the softening of TJ’s face and the handsomeness it brought out was worth the harrowing trip. Maybe. Probably.

The whole trek might have lasted a minute, or at least that’s what it felt like. The seat belt dug in as Donovan slammed forward with the vehicle stopping on a dime.

Dr. Wood jumped out and strode into the pharmacy as if he owned the world and feared nothing. Considering what he was and what he did, his airs were understandable.

He recalled Dr. Wood’s order to call while he was inside. Donovan dug his phone out of his pocket, pulled up the number to the post office, and dialed. Mary answered on the second ring.

“Hey, Mary. Doc gave me a shot. Told me to take the rest of the day off. Something about this stuff was going to knock me out.”

“Then best do what he says. Never known that man to be wrong.”

He thought for a second. If anyone would know about the secretive doctor, it would be Mary. Or Emmy. Or both. “Do you know what his first name is? I didn’t see it anywhere.”

“TJ.”

Except Mary hadn’t answered. Dr. Wood did, from his position standing next to the driver’s side of the Jeep. The benefit of the Jeep with doors but no windows unless the top was down, allowed for quick entry and exit, along with pretty stealthily approaches.

“Now seems like a good time to ask him.” Mary chuckled and disconnected.

Donovan clicked the Off button and slipped the phone back into his pocket. He couldn’t take his eyes off TJ. He felt…mellow. Horny and curious, yet mellow. Damn, what’s in that stuff he gave me?

The corners of TJ’s lips curled up just the slightest. “And you thought you could go back to work.” He shook his head and snorted. “At it is, you’ll be out before I get you home.”

“Do you know where I live?” Donovan asked.

TJ nodded, deposited a little white sack on the console, and climbed back into the driver’s seat. “Small town. Someone new moves in, we all know about it. Not much for the gossip mill to talk about as a rule. A new stud definitely fits the bill.” He cranked the engine, backed up, and started yet another reckless race down the street.

Donovan didn’t care. He relaxed into the comfortable leather seat, not bothering to brace himself, hang on or worry about the possibility of that stray dog. Instead, he stared at TJ and wondered what that Pegasus tattoo would taste like. The scent of man, woods, and a slight taste of honey on his tongue lulled him to sleep.