LITMIR.BIZ

       CHAPTER TWO

      BUT LOLA COULDN’T SLEEP. Not after finishing her glass of wine in bed or taking a bath or one of those all-natural sleeping tablets that usually did the trick. She lay awake staring at the ceiling, the events of the shift playing over and over in her head.

      Her patient’s wife saying, ‘But there’s not a scratch on him...’ and his daughter crying, ‘No, Daddy!’ and his teenage son being all stoic and brave and looking so damn stricken it still clawed at her gut. The faces and the words turned around and around, a noisy wrenching jumble inside her head, while the oppressive weight of silence in the house practically deafened her.

      She felt...alone...she realised. Damn it, she never felt alone. She was often here by herself overnight if Grace was at work or at Marcus’s and it had never bothered her before. She’d never felt alone in a city. But tonight she did.

      It was because Hamish was out there. She knew that. Human company—male company—was lying on the couch and she was in here, staring at the shadows on the ceiling. And because it wouldn’t be the first time she’d turned to a man to forget a bad shift, her body was restless with confusion.

      Was it healthy to sex away her worries? No. But it wasn’t a regular habit and it sure as hell helped from time to time.

      Lola had no doubt Hamish would be up for it. He’d been flirting with her from the beginning and he’d certainly been all in when she’d kissed him on the balcony. The message in his eyes when she’d pulled away had been loud and clear.

      If you want to take this to the bedroom, I’m your guy.

      And if he hadn’t been Grace’s brother, she would have followed through. And not just because she needed the distraction but because there was something about Hamish Gibson that tugged at her. She’d felt it on the bridge this morning and at the bar.

      It was no doubt to do with his empathy, with his innate understanding of what she’d witnessed tonight. She didn’t usually go for men who came from her world, particularly in these situations. Someone outside it—who didn’t know or care what she’d been through—was usually a much better distraction.

      Someone who only cared about getting her naked.

      Who knew familiarity and empathy could be so damn sexy? Who knew they could stroke right between your legs as well as clutch at your heart?

      Lola rolled on her side and stuffed her hands between her thighs to quell the heat and annoying buzz of desire. Wasn’t going to happen. Hamish was Grace’s brother. And she couldn’t go there. No matter how much she needed the distraction. No matter how well he kissed. No matter the fire licking through her veins and roaring at the juncture of her legs.

      Lola shut her eyes—tight.

      Go to sleep, damn it.

      * * *

      At two o’clock in the morning, Lola gave up trying to fight it. Grace wasn’t here—she’d texted an hour ago to say she was staying at Marcus’s—and Hamish would be gone in the morning.

      What could it hurt? As long as he knew it was a one-off?

      Decision made, she kicked off the sheet and stood. She paused as she contemplated her attire, her underwear and a tank top. Should she dress in something else? Slip on one of her satiny scraps of lingerie that covered more but left absolutely nothing to the imagination? She’d been surprised to learn over the years that some guys preferred subtlety.

      Or should she go out there buck naked?

      What kind of guy was Hamish—satin and lace or bare flesh?

      Oh, bloody hell. What was wrong with her? Had she lost her freaking mind? Hamish was probably just going to be grateful for her giving it up for him at two in the morning and smart enough to take it any way it was offered. She was going to be naked soon enough anyway.

       Just get out there, Lola!

      Quickly snatching a condom out of the box in her bedside drawer, she headed for her door, opened it and tiptoed down the darkened hallway. Ambient light from a variety of electrical appliances cast a faint glow into the living room and she could make out a large form on the couch. She came closer, stepping around the coffee table to avoid a collision with her shins, and the form became more defined.

      He’d kicked off the sheet, which meant Lola could see a lot of bare skin—abs, legs, chest—and she looked her fill. A pair of black boxer briefs stopped her from seeing everything and his face was hidden by one bare arm thrown up over it. The roundness of his biceps as it pushed against his jaw was distracting as all giddy up.

      As was the long stretch of his neck.

      It was tempting to do something really crazy like run her fingers along that exposed, whiskery skin. Possibly her tongue.

      But she needed to wake him first. She couldn’t just jump on him, no matter how temptingly he was lying there.

      Lola clenched her fists, the sharp foil edges of the condom cutting into her palm as she took a step towards him. Her foot landed on the only squeaky floorboard in the entire room and he was awake in an instant. She froze as his abs tensed and his body furled upwards, his legs swinging over the edge of the couch. His feet had found the floor before she had a chance to take another breath.

      He blinked up at her, running his palms absently up and down the length of his bare thighs. ‘Lola?’

      Lola let out a shaky breath as she took a step back. ‘I guess it’s true what they say about country guys, then.’

      ‘Hung like horses?’ He shot her a sleepy smile. His voice was low and rumbly but alert.

      She laughed and it was loud in the night. ‘Light sleepers.’

      ‘Oh, that.’ He rubbed his palm along his jawline and the scratchy noise went straight to her belly button. ‘Are you okay?’

      Lola

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