8. Charleigh

EIGHT

CHARLEIGH

I pushed out the door to the lobby, my head downturned and my focus on the chart in my hand as I called for my next patient, a five-year-old little boy named Nolan Tayte.

My heart clenched in a rush of sorrow. A thousand regrets and what might have beens passed in that blink of a second, and the ink hidden on my inner arm burned like a brand, though I somehow felt comforted by it.

I had it controlled by the time the child's name rolled off my lips, though I swore the air shifted when I began to lift my gaze. Something dense and dark pounded through the atmosphere and hammered into me in a stark awareness.

In an instant, my throat closed off.

Still, I was blinking and trying to make sense of the sight in front of me as the man sitting on the far side of the lobby slowly rose from a chair.

A shockwave of intensity cut across the room.

A battering of energy that whipped and lashed.

I felt stuck.

Speared.

Staring at that vicious beauty that I hadn't been able to get off my mind in more than a week, like maybe he'd been inscribed in my being after I'd let him mark me, just like I'd worried he might.

Even from across the lobby, I could see the way his strong, carved jaw clenched and those stormy eyes toiled with unfound, violent things.

Attraction and greed spun like a tornado through the space.

Making me lose ground.

But it was the little boy in his arms that felt like I'd been delivered a sucker punch straight into my gut.

What knocked the air from my lungs.

Oxygen lost.

My knees wobbled, but somehow, I managed to get myself together enough to put on a form of professionalism. My reaction was absurd. I had no right to jealousy. No right to surprise. No right to anything .

But the last thing I'd expected was to see the man who'd been plaguing my thoughts and dreams holding the most adorable little boy that I'd ever seen in his massive arms.

A boy with dark brown curls that framed his cherub face. I struggled to remain upright as they crossed the room, and I leaned against the door for support.

My reaction was ridiculous, and I gave it my all to beat back the effect the man held over me. To lift my chin and act as if I'd left his shop and had never thought of him again.

Still, my gaze devoured him as he crossed the room. Again, he wore black jeans and a plain black tee, though this one was looser with a wide neck, showing off the swirls of color that curled up from his chest and climbed his throat. Heavy motorcycle boots ate up the floor as he took long, confident strides, though I still felt his approach as if he were moving in slow motion.

"Nolan Tayte?" I forced out when they got within two feet of me.

The little boy pulled the hand towel away from his mouth. His big, blue eyes were wide and eager as he sang, "Hey, that's me, right here!"

Dried blood was caked on his bottom lip and left cheek, and my spirit clutched as I took in the sweetest face .

There was a part of me that wanted to reach out and take him into my arms, carry him into the restroom so I could clean him up, soothe him, and whisper that he was going to be okay.

I blinked the impulse away, and the smile that climbed to my face didn't feel so faked. "Hi, Nolan."

"Are you my doctor?"

"No, I'm Charleigh, the medical assistant who's going to get you ready to see the doctor."

I refused to let that sting.

I glanced at his father who was watching me as if he didn't know how to process my presence, either. His big body vibrated with that severity that clouded my senses.

"Hey, Charleigh…" He issued it like a question, his voice that low scrape, and I wanted to stomp on the stupid flutter of glee that lit inside me that he remembered me.

"Hi." I managed not to stammer it like a schoolgirl with a crush. But that might as well have been what I was with the way he made me feel. A clueless, silly schoolgirl who didn't recognize when she was about to get maimed. "Come on back."

Forcing myself to go professional, I held open the door so they could pass.

Maybe I really had been hiding out in my apartment for too long. An hour interlude with a stranger who'd given me a simple tattoo should not make an impact.

Raven was right.

I needed to get out more. Interact like a normal human being so I didn't go around forming crazy attachments to people who didn't mean anything to me.

I cleared my throat of the rioting of emotion and did my best to smile, to act the same as I would with any other patient as the door swept closed behind us. "You're Nolan's father?"

The man hesitated for a second before he grunted, "Yeah."

I was an idiot for glancing at the chart, seeing if there was another parent listed .

Even more foolish was the relief I felt when I found that there wasn't.

God, I was teetering some strange, hazardous line.

I turned to the little boy and tried to keep my voice from shaking. "I hear you had a little accident today."

It only barely cracked.

I called that a win.

"I knocked my toof clean out," the little boy said, tripping over the words as he contorted his bottom lip so I could see that extra-large gap that had been left on his lower gums. I took note that his lip was also split where his tooth had likely made contact and was now purple and swollen.

But he seemed in good spirits, so I let my smile widen at the adorableness that was this child.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that." I kept my voice light as I gestured for them to walk ahead of me. I held my breath as they passed, trying to avoid inhaling the aura of the man.

Leather and ink and wicked things.

"How did you do that?" I managed as I came up beside them to lead them down the hall. Each of the man's steps reverberated the floor, tremors beneath my feet.

Nolan grinned over at me. "Well, my dad was supposed to go to work so he can make some money because he's got a whole lotta bills he's gotta pay, and I had to get my bag with all my favorite things in it so I could go to Miss Liberty's house so she could take care of me, and I'm not supposed to be runnin' on the stairs, but sometimes I just gotta hurry because I'm always makin' him late."

It spilled out in a garble.

My heart panged in my chest.

His dad grunted, though somehow, it was an affectionate sound, and I stole a peek that way, getting stuck on the way River ran a tattooed hand down the back of the child's head.

Gently.

Tenderly .

"But you don't need to be hurrying so fast that you take a tumble, now, do you?" he said in his gruff voice.

The little boy tsked. "Whelp, I guess some days I just got bad choices."

River grunted again, and I slowed, waving a hand at the scale that sat outside the room. "Can he stand? I need to get his weight."

The chart only said he had a mouth injury, but I wasn't sure if he'd been hurt in any other way.

"Of course, I can stand. I'm already all the way five," Nolan cut in, tossing a hand with all five fingers spread wide.

A twinge of wistfulness swept in, a dull, bitter ache, and I blinked back the burn at the back of my eyes. Lifting my chin, I angled my head at the scale. "Well, you'd better hop on then."

His father seemed reluctant to set him down, glancing at me with those storm-cloud eyes, the gray toiling with the black, before he carefully placed the little boy onto his feet. He towered over him, like he was terrified the child might disappear if he let too much distance separate them.

My spirit thrashed, and there was a very stupid part of me that wanted to reach out and touch the horrifying designs that writhed over the bunching muscles of his arms, whisper my fingertips across his demons, and promise him I understood.

Nolan balanced on the scale, and the digital numbers hit the display.

" Firty- eight pounds!" Nolan shouted, thankfully stopping me from the dangerous train of thought. "I bet I weigh even more than my dad. Get on, Daddy-O, let's see!"

In what appeared agitation, River raked his fingers through the longer pieces of his hair. "Sorry, buddy, but we're not here for me."

"Ah, man, fine."

A giggle formed in my throat, and I tried to hold it back as I scribbled his weight into the chart before I used my pen to point at the room next to it. "We're going to be right in here."

I followed them in, and River sat in the chair in the corner and pulled the little boy onto his lap .

Nothing could seem so at odds.

The ferocity of the man, the enormity of his frame, the dark, swirling designs that spoke of the greatest evils and the deepest sorrows. Black hair and black eyes and black clothing. And sitting there on his lap was this tiny boy, a flop of messy brown curls on his head, freckles dashed across his cheeks and nose.

But it was the child's blue, mesmerizing eyes that stole my breath.

My spirit clutched again, and I grabbed the thermometer, thankful to have something to do with my hands, but it wasn't nearly enough to ground me as I slowly eased across the confined space so I was standing right in front of them.

Thunderstorm eyes clashed against mine, his massive arm locked protectively around the little boy's waist.

I couldn't look away from the man as I ran the thermometer across Nolan's forehead and to his temple, then I glanced at the number when it beeped. "Ninety-eight point six. Perfect."

Nolan looked up at his father with his wide, expressive gaze. "See, Dad, I told you that you didn't even have to worry one bit."

"Always worry." I got the sense that River was talking to me. "Can't hardly handle it when he gets hurt."

"I think worrying comes with the territory," I murmured. I tried to keep my attention on the child, but it kept getting dragged to the harshly cut lines of the man's face as I checked the boy's pulse.

"What time did this happen?" I asked.

"About twenty-five minutes ago," River said.

"And was he disoriented at all afterward?"

"No."

"Is there any chance he hit his head?"

The man cracked the smallest smirk, and my stomach tipped. "Nah, he was just upset that he lost a tooth."

He tickled the child then, fingers lightly digging into his sides.

Raucous giggles filled the room, and the little boy clutched his father's wrist as he squirmed and wheezed, " Teef are really important, Dad. You know what my dentist told me. I gotta take really good care of 'em."

"They are, but I think it's not going to be a big deal since it was a baby one," I assured him. "You just made room for the new one to come in."

I stepped over to the small desk attached to the wall and laid the chart on it. I scrawled the information and left it open for Dr. Reynolds.

Moving to the door, I opened it then paused to look back, feet stagnant with the thought of walking out. "He should be right in. I think you're going to be just fine, Nolan."

The little boy grinned as he leaned his back against his father's chest, his little arm looping up to hold the man by the back of the neck.

And God, it might have been the most precious thing I'd ever seen.

"I'm always fine, just as long as I got my dad."