Alpha Billionaire Series
Doctor Daddy Chapter 14

BROOKE

I bounced back and forth between my feet, anxiously awaiting Mark. Secretly dating him made me nervous every time, until we were together. As soon as he was around, I calmed down and felt safe. At some point in the past few weeks, we had actually done more than end up at his place having great s*x. We actually were dating, going out, and doing things. And much to my disappointment, we didn't always end up in his bed. Sometimes it just wasn't possible.

The cold rain wasn't helping my anxiety much. I wrapped my arms around myself in the portico of the museum. I really should step inside. It's not like I was going to miss Mark. We had agreed to meet here, and he would understand if I moved to wait inside out of the unseasonably cool weather.

My heart beat faster when I saw him hurrying toward the doors.

"Have you been waiting long?" He reached out and pulled me tight against his side.

"Anytime I have to wait is too long," I teased.

He gave me a light kiss on the lips, and I was instantly hungry for more, but this wasn't the place or the time for that.

He pulled the doors open, and the warmth of the museum greeted us with a puff of air. Once inside Mark purchased our entry passes and took my coat, putting it with his, in the coat check.

I never considered myself the museum type. I liked my culture with a tub of buttery popcorn, and I liked my books with bare-chested men and damsels in long flowy dresses on the front. Museums always seemed so high-brow, and that wasn't me. But if that was Mark, then I would learn.

"What's the exhibit you wanted to see?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Nothing really. It's too cold to go for a stroll in the park, and I'm not a fan of malls. We can't talk at the movies. I thought this would give us a chance to talk, no pressure."

We strolled through large rooms with white walls and paintings. Mark linked his arm through mine as we looked and walked.

"When it's warmer, maybe we can go to some games?" I suggested. "I like baseball." I didn't want him to think that we needed to do things like shopping and museums because I was a woman.

He shook his head. "We're more likely to run into people I know at a game than we are here."

I laughed. "And here I thought you were Mr. Gala-Events-and-Fancy-Museums, and I was wondering how I was going to fit in."

"You should talk, I believe I've encountered you at a gala before."

"Oh, is that what we're calling it now, an encounter?"

"What would you call it? Whatever you do, don't call it a mistake."

I think I blushed. I bit my lip and stared hard at the painting in front of us. I could not bring myself to look at him. "Definitely not a mistake."

We turned a corner and the nature of the paintings changed from pale wispy things to bold posters I recognized as late nineteenth-century French. As a kid, I loved the movie Moulin Rouge. It was one of my mom's favorites. She watched it all the time. Personally, I think she had a thing for Ewan McMarkor's pretty blue eyes. I loved all the music and the dancing, and that crazy elephant room. The plot was completely lost on me.

When I was a little older, I decided that the clock man was my favorite character and when I found out he had been a real person and the Moulin Rouge a real place, I became a bit obsessed. I learned all about Toulouse-Lautrec. I even did my big fifth-grade biography report on him. He was probably the only artist I knew by name. I even had a reproduction of his Chat Noir poster on my wall. I still did.

I let out a small gasp as I dropped Mark's arm to step in closer. "I didn't know they had Toulouse-Lautrec. here."

"I didn't think you did art." Mark chuckled.

"You know who I'm talking about?" Most of my friends through the years had no clue who I had been talking about. I think I single-handedly educated my fifth-grade class on who he was.

"I know who he is. I had to take a survey art history class when I was in college. Didn't you?"

I shook my head. "I bounced around between so many different schools, I somehow missed that."

I looked at every piece on display.

After that, I began paying more attention to the art on display. Our progress through the museum slowed down dramatically. Mark never once complained that I was taking too much time reading all the placards. We wound our way up to the next floor and the exhibit changed. They had everything from old furniture to fine silver to amazing portraits.

"This is almost like shopping. I mean I really want to try that chair out. Don't you think it would look good in your living room?"

Mark cleared his throat. "I can't say I thought of that. I guess it is a good-looking chair. But I think we would get kicked out, if not arrested if you tried to sit in it."

"True. At least this way we don't have to worry about replaceing a salesman or pretending to be surprised by how expensive it is."

"Have you ever been furniture shopping?"

"Plenty, with mom. The worst part is trying to wedge the new piece into the car. I swear she has no sense of spatial relations." I thought for a moment. "Or she's crazy smart and manipulative. The sales guy almost always ended up giving her free delivery after trying to get things into the trunk."

"I have met your mother. That sounds about right."

We both laughed and continued through the rooms of the museum for another hour or so.

"That was surprisingly fun. Where to next?" I asked.

"You want to get a coffee?"

"Sure." I could use a little caffeine boost. "Do you mind if we head back so we don't get stuck in traffic?"

"Do you have plans later?" He knew I did.

"Mom is going to expect me at some point," I confessed.

We agreed on a coffee shop more local to where we lived. I claimed large overstuffed upholstered chairs while Mark ordered our drinks.

I was more tired than I realized after our time at the museum. I reached out, letting my arm drape over the chair. I hooked Mark's fingers with my pinky. We sat there, not talking, fingers twisted together, enjoying the last drops of our drinks, enjoying just being together. "I'm going to have to get going soon. I have this thing with my family. An old friend is coming over and they expect me to be there."

Mark smirked.

"Yeah, I have to head out soon too. I agreed to have dinner with some friends. But I don't want to leave." He winked.

We both knew that he was coming over to my house in a few hours. I knew how he felt. Gravity was extra heavy. The chairs weren't particularly comfortable, but the company was the best. Here we could be ourselves. Later at home, we would have to pretend we weren't dating. I liked this better. My legs didn't want to do the work required to stand up.

With a grunt, Mark stood up. He took my empty coffee cup and walked to the trash can.

I shifted, gathering my purse. I was still on my butt, watching him when he returned to stand in front of me, extending his hand to help me up.

"Come on, you don't want to be late."

His hand felt so warm and comforting around mine. I stood. He didn't back up, so we were close. He dipped his head and kissed me without any concern for our surroundings. At first, I loved it and leaned into him. And then the panic set in. We didn't kiss in public. We didn't do much of anything that could be viewed as dating in public. He slipped his arm around my shoulders and walked me out to my car. He kissed me again, this time with more intent, more desire.

It was hard not to give in to him, but we weren't supposed to let anyone know we were dating. I put my hands on his ribs and pushed him away. What if someone driving by saw that? And it could be anyone who saw us and exposed us. We worked for a pretty big hospital. I certainly didn't know everyone who worked there. The lady getting out of her car next to us could work there and recognize us.

"Do you think you can come over later, after the thing with your family is over?" He was continuing the game that after we walked out of the coffee shop, we had to act like we didn't like each other the way we did.

I shrugged. "Maybe? How long is your dinner?"

He grimaced, exposing teeth. "We can get to talking, and it gets pretty late."

"How about you text me when you're headed home, and if I can swing it, I'll head over."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you later." He leaned in to kiss me again. I kissed my fingertips and pressed them to his mouth.

"We're in public," I reminded him.

He sighed and walked away to where his car was parked. I stood there watching him the whole time. I should have just kissed him. Now I'd be worried that he was mad at me.