There was no wait at the urgent-care clinic since we walked in just as the receptionist unlocked the front door. She was eyeing him with a pinched expression, clearly trying to figure out why she recognized him. I had a feeling this would be a common thing if we ended up spending any amount of time together. And, oh, I hoped we did as I watched him sign me in at the check-in desk because my writing hand was out of commission. Our babies would be beautiful, certain to make Bryan with a y and Little Miss Botox jealous.

"Just fill these out, and we'll get you right in to see the doctor." The woman handed West a clipboard filled with papers.

West looked down at the top sheet, then smiled up at me. "Oh, this is going to be fun." We sat down in the waiting room, and he began to fill out the form. "First name, Lucille. Last name, Cooper. Middle name?"

"Louise."

His eyes widened. "Shut up. Your name is Lucy Lou?"

I snapped my good fingers in front of his face. "Focus, please."

"Birthdate?"

"April twenty-fourth, nineteen-none-of-your-beeswax."

He smirked. "You're what? Thirty-eight?"

Had one hand not already been potentially broken, I might have punched him.

"What's your address?"

"534 Echelon Way, Nashville 37211," I answered.

"Echelon Apartments?"

"Don't tell me you built them."

He chuckled and shook his head. "No, I didn't build them, but I do know where they are. Phone number?"

"You have my phone number," I reminded him.

"Not memorized. I'm not Rain Man."

I spouted off my phone number.

"Email address?"

I gave him my work one. Somehow my lulabean424 address felt too personal. Then I told him my insurance and work information.

He flipped to the second page. "Now we get to the good stuff. Reason for visit. Accident prone." He cut his eyes over at me, daring me to argue. I didn't. "Do you smoke?"

"No."

"Does anyone in your home smoke?"

"No."

"Do you drink alcohol?"

"Occasionally."

"How many per week?"

"Two a month, maybe."

He looked up. "It's a fill-in-the-blank question. Think I should divide?"

I grinned. "Sure."

"OK. A half a drink per week. Do you have any of the following medical conditions?" He stopped and put his pen down. "Maybe this is too personal for a first date."

A FIRST DATE?!?!

He said it, not me.

I almost had to fan my face to keep from passing out. Be cool, Lucy. Be cool.

"It's fine. Go ahead," I said, trying to keep my voice even and not doing a very good job of it.

He read through a long list of medical conditions to which I answered no. Then he froze—and blushed. "Do you have any STDs?"

I wanted to crawl under my chair and die. "No."

He breathed a dramatic sigh of relief. "Well, I'm glad we've got that over with." He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Me either, by the way."

I doubled over and buried my red face in my arms on my lap. "Oh my god."

He was laughing, and he nudged me with his elbow. "Come on, we've got to finish this. Do you have any family history of the following: heart disease?"

"No."

"Diabetes?"

"No."

"Stroke?"

"No."

"Cancer?"

Ugh.

"Yes."

He stared at me like he was waiting for me to elaborate. I didn't. With a slight nod, he checked the "Yes" box. "Do you have any allergies?"

"Bees," I answered.

His face wilted into a mix of sympathy and endearment. "Really?"

"Yep."

"Aww, I almost feel bad for teasing you about the accident." He smiled. "Almost."

"Lucy Cooper?" a woman in purple scrubs said from the door.

I stood, and West looked up at me. "Want me to come or wait out here?"

It wasn't like I was getting a Pap smear. "You can come if you want to."

He got up and nodded toward the door. "After you, my lady."

The nurse took the clipboard and led us back to a small cubicle with half-walls. She took my blood pressure and temperature. Both were normal. "Step up on the scales so I can get your weight," she said.

My eyes shot to West.

He laughed and crossed his tanned and chiseled arms over his chest. "Seriously? I can hear about your sexual disease history but can't see how much you weigh?"

My heart was pounding in my chest. "No. Turn around."

His eye roll seemed to be the pivot on which his whole body turned. The nurse was trying not to smile. I kicked off my charcoal ankle boots—because every ounce helps—and stepped up on the scale. She wrote down the number, and I quickly stepped off. "You can turn around now," I said to West as I slipped on my shoes again.

He sighed and shook his head. "Girls are so weird."

"Follow me," the nurse said, walking down the hallway.

When we reached the tiny exam room, there weren't any chairs. West helped me up onto the exam table, and then stood beside me.

"So what happened?" the nurse asked.

"Yeah," West echoed. "What exactly happened?"

I frowned. "Jana Carter."

They both exchanged a puzzled glance.

"I was a little mad at my boss, so I slammed the door in my office. Then I thought better of it and tried to catch it." I held up my bandaged hand. "At least the sound was muffled."

The nurse unwound the paper towels around my hand. Almost all the ice had melted, and the towels were soaked. She dropped them in the trash and examined my hand. My fingers were frostbite red, but the pain had eased, and there didn't seem to be any swelling. Slowly, I curled my fingers into a fist. It hurt and my joints were stiff from the cold, but my fingers bent without hindrance.

"No! No! Don't bend them. Let's get an X-ray first," she said. She stood and picked up her notes. "Let's go take the pictures. Then the doctor will be in."

She took me down the hall and took two quick X-rays of my hand while West waited in the exam room. When the nurse returned me to him and left us alone, I carefully looked over my hand. "They aren't broken," I said, wiggling my fingers again.

"What about your purple middle finger?" he asked.

I looked at it more closely. "It could be a busted blood vessel under the skin."

"I don't know. It looks broken to me," he said.

I shook my head. "It's not. I'm sure."

He raised an eyebrow. "Want to put a wager on it?"

I laughed. "Absolutely. What did you have in mind?"

He thought for a moment, and I was thankful for the excuse to stare at him.

"I've got it," he finally said. He gripped the front corners of the exam table on either side of my legs and leaned on his arms toward me. "If it's broken, you go out with me on Friday, and we do anything I want."

The temperature in the clinic jumped about a thousand degrees.

I swallowed. "Anything?"

He leaned closer. "Anything." His tone was dark and dangerous.

The butterflies in my stomach were about to rattle me off the table.

Suddenly, West burst out laughing. "I wish you could see your face right now."

I hid behind my hands.

He took my wrists and gently pulled them away. "I'm kidding, Lucy. I promise I won't go all Fifty Shades on you."

That only made me blush harder.

"Not yet, anyway," he added with a wink. Then he pointed at my face. "But if I want to eat cereal in my underwear and watch the latest Avengers movie on Netflix, you're not allowed to judge me."

I laughed. "OK. What if I win?"

He straightened and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "The same terms. On my dime."

"Really?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yep. No limits. No budget. We do anything you want."

I stuck out my good hand and he shook it. "West Adler, you have a deal."