Caitlin was a petite blonde with big, blue eyes and a pair of lips on her that could easily inspire some filthy thoughts if you were inclined to do so. “Hi,” she said, thrusting out her hand with an eager bounce.

Cute. Too young, but cute. “Nice to meet you, Caitlin.”

“Excuse me if I don’t get up. I just finished an eighteen-hour shift,” Tomika said from her spot on the couch.

Hm. Tomika looked like my type. Dark-skinned with a close-cropped haircut on a head that would fit easily in the palm of my hand. Her brown eyes did look tired, though, and she seemed very comfortable, reclined as she was in the corner of the couch.

“I’ll come to you then.” I walked around the coffee table, and she sat up slowly like a queen who had been disturbed while in repose. A smirk twitched the corner of her mouth upward as she presented her hand.

“Nice to finally meet you.” Her voice had a rich depth to it that reminded me a bit of Darcy’s — minus the Southern accent, of course.

Jesus… Can I make it more than ten minutes without thinking of her?

“So you’re the one Brandi wanted me to meet,” I said, attempting to flirt with her. I wasn’t failing at it, but I was a little rusty.

“I am indeed. We would have met a lot sooner, but you have some sort of issue with doctors.”

“Not an issue with doctors, per se—”

“You do have an issue with doctors,” Brandi cosigned.

“How dare you imply that I’m prejudice against doctors? Some of my best friends are doctors!” I exclaimed, which drew a cackle from redolent Queen on the couch.

“Yeah, right…” Brandi said as she made her way to the kitchen.

“As I was saying, I don’t have an issue with doctors. You just work crazy hours. Seems like you all don’t have time to date people who aren’t in the same profession.”

Tomika’s smirk stretched into a smile as she sank back onto the couch cushions. “We do work crazy hours, which means we have to get creative. Are you creative, Tomás?” she asked. Her gaze took a trip down the length of my body that woke up something in me that had been sleeping for the last few months. I didn’t know if it was enough to act on, but I was definitely curious.

“I’ve been accused of being creative in the past,” I answered finally.

The sliding glass door to the patio slid open. “Aye!” Jared bellowed. “Good! You’re here. You can come help me with this fried turkey.”