Forbidden Prescription: A Stepbrother Romance (8 page)

“Hey,” James said, poking his head out the back door. “Do you like blueberry waffles?”

“Of course.” She smiled back at him. This felt like a vacation to her.

It brought back memories of a trip she went on with her mother and husband #4 to a fancy Caribbean resort. Her mother wanted privacy, so Isabella got a room to herself. Out of spite, she racked up the room charges by ordering room service every morning. However, this was much better, as now, she had someone to enjoy it with.

After breakfast, Isabella gathered her clothes from around the house and got dressed.

“You don’t have to go,” James said.

“I really should,” said Isabella. “I’ll see you later this week during rounds. Pick out a good surgery for me,” she said with a wink.

“Really?” he asked. “What about discretion?”

“Well, find a good one, then assign it to me last so the others don’t know.”

“Only if you’re the best fit for it,” he teased.

“Oh, that won’t be an issue.”

Chapter Twelve

A
s it turned out
, seeing less of James at the hospital made their relationship feel more normal. They hardly saw or spoke to each other during the day, forcing them to arrange their schedules so they could meet up on nights and weekends.

Of course, there was always the odd occasion when their on-call schedules would line up and they had to spend the night together at the hospital. Isabella tried her best to avoid temptation on these nights, but when they had a free moment, they would sneak into a rarely-used supply closet or exam room to make out.

Away from work, she did her best to keep her mind off James. She was still hesitant about having a serious relationship, but the more time they spent together, the harder this became.

James was all for their relationship. He continued to leave her little gifts and notes in her locker. At first, she told him to stop, but then she gave up. After all, she loved to read notes filled with all the things he liked about her. It was mushy, but Isabella hardly cared. She was starting to fall in love with him.

Isabella was permanently tired. Not wanting to give up any of her study time to see James, she cut several hours of sleep out of the equation. She wanted to prove to herself that she could have it all.

Isabella’s mother called her one evening, much to her surprise. Since leaving for college, she and her mother didn’t speak often. They were never close, no thanks to the revolving door of new stepfathers that entered and exited her life.

“Isabella, darling, how is the new job?” her mother asked.

“It’s good. I’ve been really busy. A while ago, I did some research work, and my name’s going to be included in the paper.”

“That sounds lovely. How are you enjoying the city? Any fun things to do?”

“I don’t really do much besides work and study.”

“You haven’t been asked out on any dates?” Her mom clicked her tongue. “You’re nearly thirty. How do you expect to find a husband and have kids at this rate?”

Isabella was annoyed but not surprised that her mom immediately went there. For as long as she could recall, her mother’s favorite activity was to try to set her up on dates. When Isabella finally agreed to go out on the blind date, the choices were always terrible. Her mother tended to look at traits like looks and money, whereas Isabella looked for personalities and values that matched hers.

“As a matter of fact, mother, I am seeing someone,” she blurted out.

She immediately regretted saying anything. Their relationship was still a secret.

“You are? Tell me everything!”

There was no use hiding James from her now. She gave her all the details.

“He’s another surgeon at my hospital. We started seeing each other a few months ago, but we’re keeping it secret because we work together.”

“Oh, a workplace romance.” Her mom clucked. “And a surgeon, no less. Tell me about him.”

“Uh, let’s see,” she started. “His name is James, he’s thirty, and he’s an attending. He’s really smart and good at what he does.”

“How did you meet?”

“At work,” Isabella said flatly.

“Obviously,” her mom said, getting annoyed. “Be a little more specific, can you?”

“He was the attending assigned to our intern group. He asked me out and I said yes. We’ve been hanging out since then.”

“When can I meet him?”

She hadn’t even considered introducing him to her mother. She didn’t hate the idea though. They had been together for a few months now, and things were getting serious between them.

“I don’t know,” Isabella said. “When am I going to meet your new husband?”

“Well,” her mom began. “I wanted it to be a surprise, but we’re actually coming to town next week. Can you clear your schedule for next Saturday night?”

“Yeah, that should work. I’ll check with him to make sure he isn’t busy.”

Isabella already knew he wasn’t busy because they already made plans to hang out. Meeting the parents was heavy stuff, and she wanted to make sure he had a chance to say no.

“I’m excited for you to meet Charles,” her mother said. “He’s a great guy, and I know you’re going to love him.”

“I’m sure he’s great. I should get back to studying. We’ll talk details later.”

“Fantastic. Can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too,” Isabella said, hanging up the phone.

The next morning, Isabella arrived at the hospital extra early. She caught James just as he was getting out of the shower.

“What a pleasant surprise,” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here so early?”

“Thought I’d come by for a chat,” she said coyly. “Why do you shower here when you have such a nice shower? I know this because we’ve had some good moments in there.”

“I like to use the gym here before all the old cardiac rehab folks take over. What did you want to talk about?”

She watched beads of water drip down from his chiseled physique.

“I talked to my mom yesterday.”

“Nice. What did she say?”

“She said she’s coming to have dinner with me on Saturday. She’s bringing her new husband. I haven’t even met him yet. Let’s just say it was a fast relationship.”

“Okay,” he said. “We can reschedule our night together. Maybe I can come over on Sunday and you can tell me all about it.”

“Well,” she said, “I told my mom about you. She wants to meet you. I understand if you don’t want to, but you’re invited to join us for dinner.”

He looked surprised. Isabella couldn’t tell if it was a good surprise or a bad surprise.

“Oh wow,” he said. “Meeting the parents. So we’re at that stage?”

Isabella quickly backpedaled. “Forget I said anything. It was a silly thing to ask.”

“No, I think it’s great!”

He took her face in his hands and planted a kiss on her head. “This will be great. We should arrange something with my parents next. Separately, of course,” he added.

“I’m glad you’re so cool about this,” she said. “I was freaking out.”

“It will be fine. We don’t have to tell anyone at work that we’re together, but I think it’s good to tell our parents. It’s not like you’re planning on running out on me anytime soon, right?”

“Right.”

“This is exciting. Do you think your mom is going to like me?”

Isabella laughed. “She’s going to like you more than me. I’m serious. You’re practically the perfect picture of a mate. The only strike against you is—”

She trailed off. She had already said too much.

“Is what?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“—is the fact that we’re not really interested in getting married or having children together.”

“Huh,” he mused.

“I’m going to grab some breakfast before rounds,” Isabella said, wanting to leave the uncomfortable conversation as quickly as possible.

Isabella’s face burned with embarrassment. They’d had “the talk” before, so why was it so awkward to bring it up? She wanted to prove to her mother that she was capable of having a normal relationship that didn’t require marriage or quitting jobs.

She picked at a breakfast sandwich in the cafeteria, hoping that the weekend would come and go with little incident. She hoped her mother would be on her best behavior because her relationship with James was so easy and just felt right.

Chapter Thirteen

S
leep did not come
easy for Isabella the night before the dinner with her mother. She tossed and turned all night before finally giving up and turning on the TV.

She flipped through channels before settling on a reality show that followed women planning their weddings. She was sure that it was mostly fictional to draw viewers in, but she couldn’t help but watch it anyway.

The women featured were truly dreadful—young women ordering their friends around and giving ridiculous demands and mothers screaming at their daughters and husbands. Isabella wondered why anyone would go through the hassle of having a wedding.

She had seen the marriage process many times with her mother. Each wedding cost a fortune once venues, decorations, and food were taken into account. Everyone involved was always stressed out for no reason. Her mother often complained about how awful it was to spend a bunch of money to get the right flowers, only for them to die a few days later. Yet, every wedding, the bouquets of real flowers were larger and grander than the last.

It blew her mind that people would drop so much money and spend so much time on an event that lasted just a few hours. In return, the couple would have nothing to show for it except for a few new serving dishes or a bread maker. The divorce would promptly follow, and then it was back to square one.

When it came down to it, Isabella thought her mom was a sucker for tradition. Her mother liked the romance of the courtship, proposal, and wedding. Isabella found it all to be silly. A woman could be in a meaningful, long-term relationship without tying her identity to a man’s.

Isabella finally fell asleep on the couch, the show still playing in the background. While she slept, she had a dream that instead of meeting her mom for dinner, James had prepared an elaborate surprise wedding.

She walked down the aisle in scrubs with disheveled hair to find James waiting at the altar, dressed in a tux, looking dapper as ever. She couldn’t hear the vows because her mom was screaming at her to put on a dress and look like a lady.

Then, when she signed the marriage certificate, the priest took her medical license and burned it in the unity candle. This set the whole church ablaze with Isabella trapped in the middle.

She woke up, sweaty and shivering on her couch. An infomercial for a toaster oven was blaring in the background. She grabbed her phone and crawled back into bed.

I’m not feeling well,
Isabella texted James.
I don’t know if I can make it tonight.

She felt clammy and had a stomach ache. Her heart was pounding and her head hurt.

What’s wrong?

I feel awful. Everything hurts.

Don’t move. I’m coming over.

Please, don’t. Just let me curl up and die here,
she said dramatically.

About twenty minutes later, Isabella heard a knock at the door. With her eyes half-open, she stumbled through the hallway to answer it.

“Wow, you look terrible,” James said cheerfully.

“Thanks.”

“Go back to bed,” he ordered. “I’ll make you some tea.”

He entered the bedroom minutes later with a piping hot mug of tea. Isabella managed a small sip.

“What are your symptoms?” he asked.

Isabella rattled off her list of ailments.

“So, what is the diagnosis?” he asked.

“I’m not really in the mood for a quiz,” she groaned.

“Fine. I’d say that your symptoms are brought on by stress and anxiety.”

“Great,” she said sarcastically. “What’s my treatment?”

“I could probably prescribe you something to calm you down,” he said. “Or you can just tell me what’s bothering you.”

“It’s this stupid dinner tonight,” she said. “My mom is in my head.”

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” he said, curling up in bed behind her.

“There’s just too much going on. First, I haven’t seen my mom in quite a while. We’re not really close, so conversations are not a ton of fun. We just don’t have that much in common.”

“Okay,” James said, nodding. “What else?”

“Second, I’m meeting her husband for the first time. Who meets their parent’s spouse after the wedding?”

He waved his hand. “You’ve forgotten who you’re talking to.”

“Oh, right. She said it was no big deal if I missed the wedding, but I still feel guilty about it.”

“Anything else?” he pressed.

“Finally, I have the added pressure of introducing my mother to my boyfriend, something I have never done in my life.”

“Never?”

“Nope. Any past boyfriends never made it to that point.”

“Wow.” He giggled. “I feel honored.”

She gave a dramatic exhale.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m listening.”

“I don’t want to go,” she whined, stuffing her head into her pillow.

James reached into his pocket and pulled out a small sealed package.

“I brought this just in case,” he said, unwrapping the drug sample. “Here, take it. It will make you feel better.”

“Where did you get that?” she asked.

“From the hospital, duh.” He laughed. “You don’t think I’m immune to moments of anxiety, do you?”

She took the tiny pill and washed it down with her tea.

“Perks of being a doctor,” he said.

Isabella settled her head back down on the pillow. James softly raked through her hair with his fingertips. She closed her eyes and listened to his gentle voice.

“Everything is going to be okay, Isabella. We’ll have a short dinner, and I’ll be by your side the whole time. When it’s over, we can head back to my place for a little fun.”

“What did you have in mind?” she mumbled.

“Something to make this all worthwhile.”

She smiled. When his words weren’t enough, his body never failed to cheer her up.

“How are you feeling now?”

“Better,” she said. “I’m feeling pretty drowsy, though. Are you sure you didn’t give me roofies?”

“I suppose you’ll find out,” he joked. “Only kidding. Between the mild sedative and the sleepy time tea, I’d say you’re about ready for a nap. Have you eaten anything?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t have the appetite.”

Without another word, he disappeared into the kitchen. While he was away, she thought about how sweet he was to drop everything and tend to her when she was unwell. It wouldn’t have occurred to her to do the same for him, yet she wanted to repay the favor in some way.

He returned with a bowl of chicken soup and buttered toast. She ate about half of it before the warmth and comfort overtook her. Her eyelids felt like they were made of cement, and she fought to keep them open.

James kissed her on the forehead. “Go to sleep. I’ll come back over this evening to pick you up for dinner.”

“Thanks,” she slurred. “You’re too nice to me.”

He smiled, watching her slowly succumb to sleep. “I can’t help how hopelessly in love I am with you,” he said, leaving her to her slumber.

A few hours later, Isabella awoke from her nap with a foggy memory, but otherwise feeling more relaxed. She checked the time on her phone. She only had a few more hours until James would be back to pick her up. She sent him a text:

I guess I was so out of it that I didn’t even see you leave. Thanks for coming over earlier.

He replied instantly:

Really? Well, I hope you’re feeling better. I’m looking forward to having dinner with you tonight.

There wasn’t much time left in the day for studying, so Isabella vowed to herself that she would spend her entire Sunday with her head in a book. She took a warm shower, which seemed to wash the drowsy effects of the drug from her mind.

She was feeling a little nervous, but it was more like butterflies in her stomach than the sky crashing down on her. She chose a simple black dress that was elegant enough for a nice dinner with parents yet sexy enough that James would find great pleasure in taking it off later in the night. She braided her damp hair in two long plaits to dry, leaving her with waves when James showed up at the door.

“You look much better than you did this morning,” he observed.

“It didn’t take much.”

“How do you feel?”
“A lot better. I’m still dreading this, and I would be perfectly fine if we decided to skip it, but I think I can make it without throwing up on myself.”

“Good,” he said. “And to tell you the truth, I’m a little nervous myself.”

“Why?” she asked.

“I’m the one who’s meeting your mother for the first time. It’s kind of a big deal.”

“Oh, I guess,” she said, forgetting that he would be having a meal with complete strangers.

“What do I need to know about your mom and stepdad?” he asked.

“My mom is probably going to ask you a lot of personal questions. That’s just how she is. If it becomes too much, kick my leg under the table, and I’ll create a diversion.”

“I don’t mind,” he said.

“Good. As for my stepfather, I know very little about him. They met while my mom was on vacation, and they got married on a beach somewhere. Apparently, he’s a good guy and I’ll like him.”

“Then it sounds like everything will be great,” he said. “Ready to go?”

“Wait,” she said. “There’s one more thing.”

“What?”

“I guarantee that one of the uncomfortable questions that my mom is going to ask is about our relationship.”

“Yeah?”

“She’s going to want to know where we’re at in our relationship. Like, when are you going to move in together, get married, have kids, et cetera. She might even ask you about your feelings for me. I just want you to know so you aren’t in an awkward position when it inevitably happens.”

“Thanks for the heads up. I think we’ll be fine.”

They left for the restaurant. Along the way, Isabella tried to come up with any other tidbits of information to tell James about her mom. He did his best to calm her nerves, but they would both be relieved when they were in the safety of his home later.

“We’re a few minutes early,” Isabella explained to the hostess, “but my mother has made a reservation for four at seven o’clock.”

“What’s the last name?” the hostess asked.

Isabella let out a dry laugh. “Huh, I actually don’t remember what her last name is this time.”

“Well, the rest of your party hasn’t arrived yet. We could seat you, or if you want to wait by the bar, we can get you when they are here.”

“Bar,” Isabella said immediately.

James asked for a glass of ice water and Isabella ordered a double vodka tonic. She gulped it down.

“Easy,” James said. “Don’t overdo it.”

She ignored him and ordered another drink a few minutes later.

“Another double vodka tonic?” the bartender asked.

James interjected. “Make it a single, and give her a little extra tonic, please.”

The bartender had just handed her the drink when the hostess approached them.

“There you are!” she said cheerfully. “The rest of your party has just been seated. If you want to follow me, I will show you to your table.”

Isabella took a deep breath. She felt James’s hand slide into hers.

“It’s going to be fine,” he said again. “Relax. You might just have a good time.”

She nodded. “Okay, we can do this. You might not want to hold my hand, though,” she added.

“Why not?”

“My mother will love it too much.”

He let go of her hand and followed the hostess to the table.

When the pair got to the table, they froze.

“Holy shit,” they exclaimed in near-unison as Isabella’s glass slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor.

Suddenly, everything clicked in Isabella’s brain. It all made sense—the reason she and James had so much in common, the reason the photo in his house was so familiar.

Sitting at the table with his arm around Isabella’s mother was James’s father, just as shocked and confused as the rest of them.

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