His Bidding (The Best Medicine #1) (4 page)

“Here we are,” Sam said, startling her back to reality. He swept into the room and closed the door behind him once again, setting the food out on his desk as though he were setting a fancy table. She couldn’t help the small grin that tugged at her lips. As usual, he picked up on it.

“What? Too formal for food we’re eating out of cardboard boxes?” He grinned, looking a bit sheepish for the first time in Brynn’s memory. It was thoroughly charming.

“No, no,” she replied with a quiet laugh. “Please, do whatever you need to do.”

His grin became crooked as he shot her a teasing look. “Thank you for humoring my inner perfectionist. This –“ He reached to place her lunch in front of her on the desk, along with a bottle of water. “– is yours. I guess it’s just as well that we didn’t go for Japanese food instead. I’d have to insist on drinking my spare bottle of Sapporo instead of water.”

“You have bottles of that just laying around, do you?” She laughed again as she reached for the chopsticks he’d laid down neatly beside her container. There was a communal box of noodles between them that made this whole lunch feel even more oddly intimate than it already had. Throwing any concern about being messy about it to the wind, she grasped a few of them with expert skill and managed to get them into her mouth with reasonable grace. Sam looked impressed.

“A patient brought me a case as a gift a few months ago. Haven’t had the chance to crack it open yet.” He sat in his desk chair and eyed his own chopsticks before looking at her. “So...you’re an expert at these things, I see?”

She hadn’t thought about it, but once he asked she realized what he was getting at. She stifled a giggle. “Lots of practice in college,” she said. “It took some getting used to.”

“Yeah. I can imagine.” He looked at the sticks again, balefully, then met Brynn’s gaze once more. “How...?”

He was seriously asking her how to use chopsticks? She allowed the giggle to surface and held up her right hand. “If you just put your thumb here...and move your index finger...”

She gave him step-by-step instructions, willfully ignoring how every word sounded, and trying not to notice how beautiful his hands were, like those of an artist. But for all the dexterity he’d shown with her stethoscope earlier, he was positively hopeless with eating implements. He watched her intently as she showed him how to balance the sticks properly, and still he couldn’t replicate her grasp.

Without thinking, she set her own chopsticks on her napkin, got up and walked around his desk, taking his hand in hers. “Here,” she offered, repositioning his fingers until he had it right. “Like this.” The sensation of touching him was a heady one, and she found herself embarrassed that she’d taken such liberties all of a sudden, but he seemed more than happy. She wasn’t sure if it was just her lesson or her proximity that made him turn and look at her with that smile in his eyes.

“Ah,” he said, not taking his gaze off her. “I see.”

“You’ve got it now?” Her voice trembled ever so slightly as she moved away from him, feeling overwhelmed by desire. She couldn’t afford to be this stupid.

“I don’t know,” he replied, and his voice sounded a bit odd, too. He finally looked away from her face for a moment and made an attempt at picking up the noodles in front of them. He almost made it, but as he brought his hand back he dropped his food on the blotter. When they both laughed, the tension broke. “Okay. That’s a ‘no,’ then.” He grinned, watching her return to her seat. “Do you mind if I use this instead?”

She smiled and shook her head as he held up the plastic-wrapped fork that had come in the bag. The restaurant was definitely familiar with their customer. “I won’t judge you.”

“Thanks for that.” He chuckled, and much to her surprise his cheeks turned slightly pink. She guessed it wasn’t often that he was on the receiving end of any sort of lesson, much less one he couldn’t pick up in seconds. She wasn’t sure if she’d committed a misstep by showing him up, though he wasn’t acting as though he minded. If anything he was acting...sort of the way she felt. A touch nervous. Eager to impress. All things she never imagined Dr. Samuel Hitchens experiencing.

Attempting to even the playing field again, Brynn opted to forsake her chopsticks and reach into the nearest bag to fish out a plastic fork for her lunch. “It’s actually much neater this way,” she stated with a nod, glancing at him to gauge his reaction. He looked amused, and maybe a bit charmed himself.

“You don’t have to slum it for me,” he replied with a chuckle. “I’ll just have to practice for next time.”

Next time? Brynn’s mind spun for a moment as she considered whether she was making up every little implication through some sort of misguided wishful thinking, or if the vibes she was reading were real. If he had been any other man she’d be certain he was flirting. It was subtle, but it was there. But this wasn’t “any other man.” This was the embodiment of her hottest fantasies.

She felt herself blushing even as her next words tumbled from her mouth. “You might want to brush up in case your auction date decides she wants you to take her to the best chow mein place in town.”

The silence was deafening. He looked at her with surprise, and she couldn’t tell if it was due to her knowing about the bachelor auction or, more likely, if it was shock that she would blurt out such a thing. If she could have willed a hole into the floor to swallow her up right then and there, she would’ve done so.

Finally, his fork still sitting empty in his hand, frozen mid-motion, Sam cleared his throat. “I...hadn’t realized that was public knowledge yet.”

Brynn resisted the urge to cover her face with her hands, or to simply bolt from the room. It wasn’t easy. “There are flyers up,” she practically whispered.

“Are there.” It wasn’t a question. He set his fork down and sat back in his chair, looking at steadily at her. She couldn’t make herself look at him to see what he might be thinking. She simply nodded, gazing at her hands as they knotted themselves in her lap.

His next words shocked her more than she could possibly have shocked him.

“You’re coming to the party, aren’t you? You really must. I think I have a job for you.” He paused thoughtfully. “How would you feel about being my highest bidder?”

B
rynn felt her head snap up as though it was on a spring, her eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. His highest bidder? What? What did that even mean?

“Uh. Okay,” Sam said, followed by an uneasy laugh. “Maybe I shouldn’t have just pulled that out of nowhere. You don’t have to answer. I mean, you shouldn’t feel obligated to... I’m not handling this well, am I?”

She couldn’t reassure him with a response, her tongue still refusing to form words of any sort. This had taken a bizarre turn. Was she dreaming? Had she even gotten out of bed this morning, or had she fallen back asleep and just imagined everything she’d done – what she’d done in her shower, everything she’d done here – since hitting her snooze button?

“Awkward,” Sam murmured, looking down, unnecessarily straightening his tie. That grabbed Brynn’s attention once again.

“I... I’m sorry?” It was all she could manage.

He was definitely blushing now. “Don’t be.”

“No...” She fought to get her head, and her words, straight. “I mean...I’m just asking for clarification.”

He looked up, seemingly a little less afraid that he’d offended her and had perhaps just confused her. The latter was certainly true.

“Okay,” he said, more to himself than to her. He looked to be readying a proper explanation. “I was going to ask you about this when the announcement about the auction went out...which was earlier than I’d assumed, it would seem.” He sat forward in his chair and rested his arms on the desk, lunch now long forgotten. “There are...office politics, you could say...that I hadn’t considered before I offered myself up for this party. I don’t want to renege on my promise – not when it’s charity – but I also don’t want to spend one of my rare nights off being...” He trailed off, as though searching for the right phrasing again.

Brynn had managed to close her mouth, but her eyes were still wide with bewilderment. Spend his night doing what, exactly? She had no clue what he was trying to get across.

He seemed to realize that. With an embarrassed smile, he shook his head. “I’m really blowing your mind with this, aren’t I? I’m so sorry.” Again, as if to himself, he murmured, “I sound like an idiot.”

“No, you don’t.” Brynn’s own voice surprised her. What a time to finally offer him reassurance. For his part, Sam looked taken aback that he’d said the last bit aloud. After a few beats, though, he spoke again.

“Thank you,” he said softly. His tone made her pulse quicken. “I... Okay, here’s the thing. I already know who’s going to win this auction.”

Instinctively Brynn said, “Dr. Mills.”

“How did you –“ Sam’s eyes widened just as Brynn’s had. Then he shook his head, looking amazed. “You seem to know everything that goes on around that hospital before I do. Does that mean I’m terrible at my job?” He forced a chuckle with his last few words.

“Nurses are known for gossip,” Brynn offered by way of explaining, then hastily added, “but it’s not one of my personal favorite pastimes.”

That elicited a more sincere laugh from Sam. “Well. I’m glad to know that, after I’ve said as much as I have.” Seeing her smile shyly, he continued. “That might make my job of explaining this a bit easier, actually. You knowing so much, I mean.”

“I...think I understand at least part of where you’re going with this,” she replied, voice quiet. “But I’m not sure what any of this has to do with me...”

“Tell me what you understand,” he requested of her. It made her uneasy – what if she was wrong in her assumptions? What if Lisa’s opinions on the subject had influenced her unduly? – but she knew she didn’t have much of a choice.

“You don’t want to waste a night with Dr. Miller. So you want to fix the auction.”

Her manner of saying it so forthrightly made him smile. “Good. You spared me saying it.”

Brynn had to wonder why he wanted to avoid her, though just from what she and Lisa had experienced on a professional level with the woman, she could imagine Dr. Miller would be unpleasant company at best, and an unshakable stalker at worst, if she thought she had her hooks in a catch like Sam.

“What I was going to ask you,” he carried on, “was if you’d be willing to swoop in at the last second – with my money, obviously – and take the win out from under her. That way everyone wins. The charity. Me. You.” He blushed again, and Brynn was sure she would never stop being surprised that this man was capable of being embarrassed. “Well, I mean, you’ll be compensated.”

She felt a frown settling on her brow. “Compensated?” Like an escort, she thought. She felt mildly nauseated.

Sam must have realized how that sounded, and he quickly backtracked. “I just mean that I’d be happy to consider it a work function and pay you accordingly, if you were comfortable with that.” He paused. “I didn’t think me just taking you out for the evening like the auction offers would be much of a prize to you.”

His humility was baffling to her. “Dr. Miller doesn’t win,” she said, distracted, not having processed the conversation quite up to the minute yet. He chuckled.

“Not really at the top of my priority list, Brynn.”

Hearing him say her name always did funny things to her heart. And then she absorbed what he’d said a sentence ago. Her pulse rate took off like a wild horse. She didn’t know if he’d just given her an invitation, but she did know it was an opening. It was just a matter of whether she had the guts to walk through it.

“Why me?” she asked. It wasn’t quite as ballsy as she needed to be, but it was headed in the right direction.

He tilted his head to one side, as though surprised by her question. “I trust you.”

Was that all? She couldn’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment.

“And...” He paused for a long moment before continuing, and Brynn thought she might have seen him swallow nervously. “I thought that, at the very least, as part of your...compensation...if you were willing to spend that evening with me – you know, as the winner – at least I’d know I would have a nice time.”

Brynn’s heart ceased its wild gallop and came to a complete halt. That was the invitation. No question about it.

“Well...” She resolved to steel herself and not lose her nerve. “Obviously I would expect you to take me out. As the winner. Yes.”

His face changed, relaxing, breaking into a slow, sexy-as-hell smile. She fidgeted in her seat, trying to keep her face as neutral as possible.

“Obviously.” He said it just the way she had, as though he relished that she’d said it at all.

“It would look kind of strange to everyone if you didn’t go through with the actual prize of the auction, wouldn’t it?” she said, a tiny smile pushing its way to the surface.

He looked amused, and pleased, and even a little impressed. “It would look very strange. We wouldn’t want that.”

A thought occurred to Brynn then, one that erased her trace of a smile. She spoke it aloud. “Is there any problem with...you know...you being my boss?”

She couldn’t read the mix of expressions that crossed his face in an instant. “There’s nothing that forbids it in official hospital policy, since I’m not your direct supervisor nor are you in my department.” He cleared his throat again. “And as for here, I sort of make up my own rules as I see fit.”

Of course he did. She still felt surreal. Heading up a plot to rig a Christmas party to her advantage was not the way she’d expected to spend her lunch hour.

“I can see some people wondering what kind of salary the hospital is paying you, though,” Sam added, almost as an afterthought. He had a point.

But Brynn suddenly thought back to Lisa joking with her a couple of days earlier, about having to ask for a raise. It gave her an idea. “I think I know how to handle that bit.”

“Oh?” Sam raised an eyebrow, interested.

“Yes. I think so.”

He leaned forward a bit more. “Are you going to let me in on it, or is there some kind of secret society that nurses can’t discuss?”