Not Quite Forever (Not Quite #4)(4)
Author: Catherine Bybee

“What’s your name?”

Walt didn’t hear it . . . he only noticed when Dakota glanced at him and squeezed her eyes together as if to say, you can kiss my ass.

Damn if Walt didn’t want a chance to try.

Walt? Was that short for Walter? And what parent named their kid Walter?

Stuffy, Dakota decided. Parents that were stuffy and stuck on tradition. She would lay her next advance on the line to say that Dr. Walt Eddy’s parents were doctors themselves . . . or at the very least, pompous elite who named their son after some long-dead beloved grandfather. Probably both.

Make that her next two advances.

What was that upper-crust lip about bodice rippers?

Screw him. And his strong-jawed, short-haired, hazel-eyed loveliness. Didn’t matter that he filled out the suit he wore as if he weren’t a stuffy doctor, but maybe a closet bodybuilder instead. Shoulders like his should come with a warning label.

She knew better than to be attracted to a man like him. The night before in the bar she noticed him briefly before he was joined by a beautiful blonde and a man who had to be her husband or at the very least an attentive lover.

What would his pickup line have been? She wondered then . . . wondered it even more now.

Damn if he wasn’t fun. Getting under his skin had been invigorating.

After her class on the fine art of crafting meaningful sexy intimacy concluded, Dakota signed more books and moved along with the stream of women rushing to their next class, to meet their next author-crush in person.

She had two more appointments for the day . . . a meeting with her editor, another with a boatload of her author friends to get pissing drunk in the hotel bar. But that wasn’t until much later.

“Dakota?”

Behind her, Mary called her name and Dakota slowed her steps.

“You’re in an awfully big hurry,” her friend said as she hoisted the conference-issue bag up onto her shoulder a little higher.

“I need coffee.” She did. Not the watered-down stuff the hotel liked to give in the massive urns stationed at a few watering stations along the convention floor. A shot or two of espresso might help fight the fatigue nipping at her eyelids. The Starbucks on the ground floor was calling her name.

Mary fell in step alongside Dakota as the halls emptied, the women at the conference streaming into individual rooms like water in a multitude of funnels.

“I don’t know how you manage any sleep with all the caffeine you consume at these things.”

Dakota offered a short laugh. “That would be the whiskey chasers with dinner.” They rounded the corner to the escalators and she stepped on the one leading up to the third floor.

“I thought you wanted coffee.” Mary stepped alongside her and glanced at the level they’d just left.

The third floor was much quieter and less crowded with advertising. Dakota twisted her name tag around so the back side faced out.

“You’re checking out that doctor.” Mary looked around and lowered her voice.

“You’re smarter than all that blonde hair implies.”

Mary pushed her shoulder and offered a playful frown. Dakota was always giving Mary crap about all her hair. The snarky comments stemmed from sheer jealousy. Mary might complain about how her hair took on a life of its own, but every inch of it was beautiful and the envy of many.

Two volunteers sat behind a small table with a slew of packets and registration sheets.

Dakota offered a practiced smile and turned to the women at the table. “I’ve lost my itinerary,” she told them.

Without question, the woman picked up the doctor conference pamphlet and handed it over. “No problem, Dr. . . .”

Dakota didn’t offer a name, simply took the material and thanked the woman.

“How do you do that?” Mary asked as Dakota led her friend away.

“Do what?” She opened the conference schedule and scanned the list of doctors . . . focusing on one name. Walt stuck out like a cat in a room full of dogs.

“Make people think you belong when you don’t?”

Sure enough, Dr. Walt Eddy’s first scheduled class was in her room . . . but where had they put him? She glanced around, found a handwritten change in venue billboard along the main hall.

“I belong.” She twisted and started toward the room to which the hotel had moved Dr. Eddy.

Dakota found the room and turned. “This won’t take long. Meet you downstairs for a double shot latte in ten?”

Mary eyed the door with a frown. “You were kind of mean to him, ya know.”

“Which means I need to kiss some ass.”

Mary laughed. “You don’t kiss anyone’s ass.”

If it’s cute enough I will.

“Ten minutes, at the coffee shop.”

“Fine!” Mary twisted on her heel and waved behind her. “Be nice, Dr. Laurens.”

With a laugh, Dakota opened the door and slid inside.

The room was a postage stamp, and it appeared that Dr. Eddy had quite a following. The chairs were filled and several people were standing along the walls.

“. . . are you saying we should use duct tape to stop the bleeding?” The question came from a man in the fifth row.

Dr. Eddy stood leaning against the desk. His hands clutched the sides, his eyes met those of the man asking the question.

“I’m saying that if you’re the only one there and duct tape will keep your patient alive, then you damn well better use it.”

“But if the removal of the tape—”

“Skin issues don’t mean a whole lot on the dead, Doctor.”

The door behind Dakota squeaked as one of the conference volunteers entered and signaled that Dr. Eddy’s time was up.

His hazel eyes skidded past the volunteer and landed directly on Dakota.

He paused and the fierce passion he had for the discussion started to fade.

“That’s all the time we have now. I’ll be available to answer individual questions outside and throughout the conference.”

Funny, he was addressing the class, but looking at her.

The hair on Dakota’s arms stood on end.

Just like during her classes, some people moved from the room while others lingered.

Dr. Eddy stood where he was and pulled his gaze away from hers, directed it to those who approached him.

She eased her way to the front of the room, smiled at those who passed her and offered an appreciative glance.

“Thank you . . .” one of the conference attendees said while shaking Dr. Eddy’s hand. “One of the things that worried me most about joining Borderless Doctors you just blew out of the water.”