I used to love my job reporting the social scene, but I’ve been recently drafted as the station’s medical reporter . God only knows what diseases I will have to report on. This is not a good thing for a closet hypochondriac! There’s only one upside–medical reporting means meeting lots of doctors. Surely, there will be a few eligible bachelors in the mix…
I’m trying to ignore my wild attraction to Harrison, but his forest green eyes, rugged physique and warm smile make my insides melt…not to mention other parts. My adorable dog, Romeo, is in love with Harrison, and he’s convinced Harrison is for me. But I’m looking for a “human” doctor. Harrison is an animal doctor. Do I look like an animal? Well, only on a bad hair day, but that’s beside the point.
Marrying a doctor calls for a methodical approach, and I intend to date as many as I can to meet “the one.” I have to ignore Romeo’s blatant attempts to matchmake me with Harrison. But ignoring my pounding heart when I’m around swoony Harrison is another matter entirely…
BEACH BOOK SERIES: Each book is a standalone
GRILL ME, BABY, Book 1
BLAME IT ON ROMEO, Book 2 (previously titled Paging Dr. Hot)
Harrison sinks into a white patio chair with Romeo flopped on his lap. Romeo lapses into a state of nirvana as Harrison scratches his belly. When his hand moves up to scratch under Romeo’s snout, Romeo’s little pink tongue dangles from the side as he drools with delight.
“Nice view,” Harrison says, looking at the bay.
“I love watching the sailboats.” And you, I think privately. Harrison looks rugged and relaxed as he strokes Romeo with his broad hand. Even at ease, his muscular arms look powerful. Man, I could get lost in those arms…
“Do you sail?” he asks, snapping me back to reality.
“Me? Nooo. I’m not too sporty.” I tilt my head and smile at him. “Let me guess, you’re an avid sailor.”
He chuckles. “I’ll take you sailing sometime, if you like. Do you swim?”
“Of course, I was raised in Miami,” I say affronted. “And my dad calls me guppy.”
“Guppy,” he repeats with a surprised laugh. “Why does he call you that?”
“Dad’s a marine biologist. The first time I went in the ocean, I was only a toddler, but he says I took to water like a guppy.”
All of a sudden, we hear Fizzy yell, “shiite” from the kitchen. I push the sliding glass door open and dart toward the kitchen. Harrison makes it there before I do.
We find Fizzy leaning over the sink holding a paper towel wrapped around her thumb. In seconds, it’s soaked in blood.
“What happened?” I ask, gaping at her.
“I cut my thumb,” Fizzy says, wincing.
Harrison takes Fizzy’s hand and applies firm pressure above the knuckle of her left thumb. When the bleeding slows down, he examines the cut.
“You don’t need stitches. I have some tissue glue that will seal it shut,” he says.
“Tissue glue?” That sounds a little iffy to me. “Fizzy, you need to go to the ER,” I tell her in a no-nonsense voice.
“I am not wasting all night waiting there for a little cut,” Fizzy says. “I’d rather have Harrison take care of it.”
“Have you had a tetanus shot in the past five years?” he asks.
“Yeah, two years ago.” Her blue eyes light up. “When I almost lost my pinky toe. It was really gross.”
“Stop, please don’t go into details.” I stare at her bloody thumb and begin to feel lightheaded. “Look how it’s bleeding! What if it gets infected? Gangrene might set in.”
“Gangrene? That’s nonsense. Dermabond forms a barrier against bacteria,” Harrison says in a patient tone.
“Still, I would get stitches,” I whisper to Fizzy. “It looks awful.”
“Stitches are not necessary. I know what I’m doing, Francesca,” Harrison says, his jaw tight.
“But…”
“Will you two stop arguing about my poor thumb?” Fizzy cuts in, giggling.
“How can you laugh when you’re losing so much blood?” The alcohol has probably dulled her pain.
“I’m going to get my medical bag,” Harrison says. “Keep your hand elevated until I get back.”
“I will, Doc,” Fizzy promises, winking at me.
I throw my hands in the air. Let her do whatever she wants. There’s no reasoning with a tipsy bartender.
As soon as Harrison leaves, Fizzy turns to me. “Quit arguing with Harrison. You’re pissing him off.”
“I’m not arguing for the sake of arguing. I’m worried about you.”
“I trust him,” Fizzy counters. “You should too.”
We lapse into silence until Harrison returns carrying his medical bag. He joins Fizzy at the sink, where she’s still standing with her hand elevated, as he told her to do. The paper towel around her thumb is soaked with blood.
Romeo is barking and making a commotion until Harrison gives him a firm command to sit and he obeys instantly. When I start to ask a question, Harrison’s no-nonsense look shuts me up too.
He opens his medical bag and pulls on surgical gloves. I notice Romeo starts to tremble, so I lift him in my arms.
“Don’t worry. He’s not examining you today, baby. It’s Fizzy’s turn,” I whisper in Romeo’s ear.
I let out a loud gasp when Harrison peels the bloody paper towel off her thumb.
Harrison looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Don’t look if it bothers you. It’s not deep at all,” he says, flushing the wound with sterile water and Betadine.
I’d rather not look, but I feel I should. Fizzy is tipsy and she might go into shock.
“Are you sure she shouldn’t go to the ER? I once had a cut like that and the ER doctor referred me to a plastic surgeon,” I inform him.
“He should have referred you to a shrink,” Harrison mutters under his breath.
“Gosh, you don’t have to be insulting.” First, I’m nutty and now he says I need a shrink because I’m looking out for Fizzy. How rude.
Romeo gives a low growl as if reminding me that Harrison still has his lab reports. I better hold my tongue.
Harrison remains silent as he meticulously applies the Dermabond in thin layers. Finally, he uses steri-tapes and splints her thumb.
Fizzy doesn’t bat an eye. “Why’d you use a splint?” she asks.
“It’s a precaution so the wound stays closed. It can come off in a couple of days.” He shuts his medical bag. “I’m gonna go now.”
“But you haven’t had your margarita yet,” Fizzy says, exchanging a look with me.
“I’ll take a rain check. Call me if you have any concerns or if it gets swollen or the skin around it turns red. Francesca has my number.”
“Call me Frankie,” I tell him. I wonder why he’s being so formal all of a sudden. He always calls me Frankie.
“Thanks so much, Doc,” Fizzy says with a friendly smile.
“You’re welcome. Take care now.” Harrison heads toward the door.
“I really appreciate how you took care of Fizzy. Thank you.” I hesitate for a minute, but I have to ask. “Are you sure she doesn’t need another tetanus shot?”
“One every five years is enough,” he says in a level tone. The lighthearted mood Harrison arrived with has been replaced by a tense one and he doesn’t look pleased with me.
“Oh, okay, but if it starts looking any worse, I’ll make sure she goes to a doctor.”
“I am a doctor. Where do you think I got my diploma from, Wal-Mart?” he asks, losing patience.
“But you’re an animal doctor, not a people one,” I say before I can stop myself. Why did I have to slurp down that second margarita like it was a smoothie? I can’t stop blurting out every dumb thing that pops into my mind.
“Francesca!” Fizzy admonishes. “Don’t mind her, she’s had one too many.”
“I have not!” I say indignantly.
“Thanks again, Harrison,” Fizzy says, trying to smooth things over.
“You’re welcome.”
He leaves without saying another word to me. I turn to Fizzy and shrug. “What got his shorts in a bunch?”
“Hmm, let me see…” Fizzy taps her chin. “Could it be that you doubted his medical ability? Really, Frankie, I don’t know what got into you.”
“Oh, no.” I clutch my head. “Was I that bad?”
Fizzy snorts. “Hello? You second-guessed him every step of the way. Then you acted like he wasn’t a real doctor. I hate to tell you this, but you were a little rude to him.”
I groan. “He was rude to me too. I didn’t appreciate his comment about the shrink. Anyway, who knew he’d be so sensitive?”
“I don’t know what you’re complaining about. I’m the patient and I thought he was kind and caring.” Fizzy gets a dreamy look on her face and I know she’s up to something. “Harrison can take care of me anytime…he has such big strong hands, yet his touch is so gentle.”
“Stop already. I know he has amazing hands,” I wail. “You’re making me feel worse. I should apologize to him, right?”
“Damn right. I wouldn’t be surprised if Harrison tells Chloe he never wants to see you again.”
“Not if I apologize to him first.”
The doorbell rings and we both jump.
“Here’s your chance,” Fizzy crows.
“I hope it’s not Harrison. I was hoping he’d cool off first.”
Fizzy starts clucking and flapping her crooked arms.
“So I’m a chicken. What else is new?” I ask.
Fizzy darts up from her chair and races to get the door before me. She flings it open and Harrison is standing there.
“You’re back!” Fizzy exclaims. She claps a hand over her scarlet mouth to muffle her giggles. “Boy, are you a glutton for punishment.”
Not cracking a smile, Harrison looks straight at me.
Romeo: Grrrr… What a fiasco! Francesca’s antics are going to make me lose the best doctor I’ve ever had. She had the nerve to second-guess my hero and now he’s mad at her. I don’t blame him one bit.
I agree with Fizzy—Harrison has magical hands. When he pets me I go into a trance. Scout is one lucky dog.
Lady, you better grovel at Harrison’s feet and make it up to him, especially since he came back. Otherwise, I’ll take matters into my own paws.
Ruff!
“Nice view,” Harrison says, looking at the bay.
“I love watching the sailboats.” And you, I think privately. Harrison looks rugged and relaxed as he strokes Romeo with his broad hand. Even at ease, his muscular arms look powerful. Man, I could get lost in those arms…
“Do you sail?” he asks, snapping me back to reality.
“Me? Nooo. I’m not too sporty.” I tilt my head and smile at him. “Let me guess, you’re an avid sailor.”
He chuckles. “I’ll take you sailing sometime, if you like. Do you swim?”
“Of course, I was raised in Miami,” I say affronted. “And my dad calls me guppy.”
“Guppy,” he repeats with a surprised laugh. “Why does he call you that?”
“Dad’s a marine biologist. The first time I went in the ocean, I was only a toddler, but he says I took to water like a guppy.”
All of a sudden, we hear Fizzy yell, “shiite” from the kitchen. I push the sliding glass door open and dart toward the kitchen. Harrison makes it there before I do.
We find Fizzy leaning over the sink holding a paper towel wrapped around her thumb. In seconds, it’s soaked in blood.
“What happened?” I ask, gaping at her.
“I cut my thumb,” Fizzy says, wincing.
Harrison takes Fizzy’s hand and applies firm pressure above the knuckle of her left thumb. When the bleeding slows down, he examines the cut.
“You don’t need stitches. I have some tissue glue that will seal it shut,” he says.
“Tissue glue?” That sounds a little iffy to me. “Fizzy, you need to go to the ER,” I tell her in a no-nonsense voice.
“I am not wasting all night waiting there for a little cut,” Fizzy says. “I’d rather have Harrison take care of it.”
“Have you had a tetanus shot in the past five years?” he asks.
“Yeah, two years ago.” Her blue eyes light up. “When I almost lost my pinky toe. It was really gross.”
“Stop, please don’t go into details.” I stare at her bloody thumb and begin to feel lightheaded. “Look how it’s bleeding! What if it gets infected? Gangrene might set in.”
“Gangrene? That’s nonsense. Dermabond forms a barrier against bacteria,” Harrison says in a patient tone.
“Still, I would get stitches,” I whisper to Fizzy. “It looks awful.”
“Stitches are not necessary. I know what I’m doing, Francesca,” Harrison says, his jaw tight.
“But…”
“Will you two stop arguing about my poor thumb?” Fizzy cuts in, giggling.
“How can you laugh when you’re losing so much blood?” The alcohol has probably dulled her pain.
“I’m going to get my medical bag,” Harrison says. “Keep your hand elevated until I get back.”
“I will, Doc,” Fizzy promises, winking at me.
I throw my hands in the air. Let her do whatever she wants. There’s no reasoning with a tipsy bartender.
As soon as Harrison leaves, Fizzy turns to me. “Quit arguing with Harrison. You’re pissing him off.”
“I’m not arguing for the sake of arguing. I’m worried about you.”
“I trust him,” Fizzy counters. “You should too.”
We lapse into silence until Harrison returns carrying his medical bag. He joins Fizzy at the sink, where she’s still standing with her hand elevated, as he told her to do. The paper towel around her thumb is soaked with blood.
Romeo is barking and making a commotion until Harrison gives him a firm command to sit and he obeys instantly. When I start to ask a question, Harrison’s no-nonsense look shuts me up too.
He opens his medical bag and pulls on surgical gloves. I notice Romeo starts to tremble, so I lift him in my arms.
“Don’t worry. He’s not examining you today, baby. It’s Fizzy’s turn,” I whisper in Romeo’s ear.
I let out a loud gasp when Harrison peels the bloody paper towel off her thumb.
Harrison looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Don’t look if it bothers you. It’s not deep at all,” he says, flushing the wound with sterile water and Betadine.
I’d rather not look, but I feel I should. Fizzy is tipsy and she might go into shock.
“Are you sure she shouldn’t go to the ER? I once had a cut like that and the ER doctor referred me to a plastic surgeon,” I inform him.
“He should have referred you to a shrink,” Harrison mutters under his breath.
“Gosh, you don’t have to be insulting.” First, I’m nutty and now he says I need a shrink because I’m looking out for Fizzy. How rude.
Romeo gives a low growl as if reminding me that Harrison still has his lab reports. I better hold my tongue.
Harrison remains silent as he meticulously applies the Dermabond in thin layers. Finally, he uses steri-tapes and splints her thumb.
Fizzy doesn’t bat an eye. “Why’d you use a splint?” she asks.
“It’s a precaution so the wound stays closed. It can come off in a couple of days.” He shuts his medical bag. “I’m gonna go now.”
“But you haven’t had your margarita yet,” Fizzy says, exchanging a look with me.
“I’ll take a rain check. Call me if you have any concerns or if it gets swollen or the skin around it turns red. Francesca has my number.”
“Call me Frankie,” I tell him. I wonder why he’s being so formal all of a sudden. He always calls me Frankie.
“Thanks so much, Doc,” Fizzy says with a friendly smile.
“You’re welcome. Take care now.” Harrison heads toward the door.
“I really appreciate how you took care of Fizzy. Thank you.” I hesitate for a minute, but I have to ask. “Are you sure she doesn’t need another tetanus shot?”
“One every five years is enough,” he says in a level tone. The lighthearted mood Harrison arrived with has been replaced by a tense one and he doesn’t look pleased with me.
“Oh, okay, but if it starts looking any worse, I’ll make sure she goes to a doctor.”
“I am a doctor. Where do you think I got my diploma from, Wal-Mart?” he asks, losing patience.
“But you’re an animal doctor, not a people one,” I say before I can stop myself. Why did I have to slurp down that second margarita like it was a smoothie? I can’t stop blurting out every dumb thing that pops into my mind.
“Francesca!” Fizzy admonishes. “Don’t mind her, she’s had one too many.”
“I have not!” I say indignantly.
“Thanks again, Harrison,” Fizzy says, trying to smooth things over.
“You’re welcome.”
He leaves without saying another word to me. I turn to Fizzy and shrug. “What got his shorts in a bunch?”
“Hmm, let me see…” Fizzy taps her chin. “Could it be that you doubted his medical ability? Really, Frankie, I don’t know what got into you.”
“Oh, no.” I clutch my head. “Was I that bad?”
Fizzy snorts. “Hello? You second-guessed him every step of the way. Then you acted like he wasn’t a real doctor. I hate to tell you this, but you were a little rude to him.”
I groan. “He was rude to me too. I didn’t appreciate his comment about the shrink. Anyway, who knew he’d be so sensitive?”
“I don’t know what you’re complaining about. I’m the patient and I thought he was kind and caring.” Fizzy gets a dreamy look on her face and I know she’s up to something. “Harrison can take care of me anytime…he has such big strong hands, yet his touch is so gentle.”
“Stop already. I know he has amazing hands,” I wail. “You’re making me feel worse. I should apologize to him, right?”
“Damn right. I wouldn’t be surprised if Harrison tells Chloe he never wants to see you again.”
“Not if I apologize to him first.”
The doorbell rings and we both jump.
“Here’s your chance,” Fizzy crows.
“I hope it’s not Harrison. I was hoping he’d cool off first.”
Fizzy starts clucking and flapping her crooked arms.
“So I’m a chicken. What else is new?” I ask.
Fizzy darts up from her chair and races to get the door before me. She flings it open and Harrison is standing there.
“You’re back!” Fizzy exclaims. She claps a hand over her scarlet mouth to muffle her giggles. “Boy, are you a glutton for punishment.”
Not cracking a smile, Harrison looks straight at me.
Romeo: Grrrr… What a fiasco! Francesca’s antics are going to make me lose the best doctor I’ve ever had. She had the nerve to second-guess my hero and now he’s mad at her. I don’t blame him one bit.
I agree with Fizzy—Harrison has magical hands. When he pets me I go into a trance. Scout is one lucky dog.
Lady, you better grovel at Harrison’s feet and make it up to him, especially since he came back. Otherwise, I’ll take matters into my own paws.
Ruff!
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interesting
ReplyDeleteSounds like good series!
ReplyDeletesounds so good.
ReplyDeleteThank you for introducing me to this book.
ReplyDeleteI'm looking forward to reading this
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