The Blush Factor (The Hawthornes of New York 2) - Page 2

“I knew that Manhattan was full of gorgeous men, but that one right there may be the best looking I’ve seen.”

I turn away from the door of the lecture hall. “I forgot something.”

“What?” Gwynn questions from behind me. “Class is about to start, Faith. You can’t be late. Stein told us there would be heck to pay if we were late again, remember? Heck. Her word, not mine.”

I smile as she rounds me. “I remember.”

“Whatever you forgot has to wait. Nothing is worth getting on her bad side.” She tugs on my forearm. “Let’s grab our seats and get this over with.”

I suck in a deep breath and turn back to face the open doorway.

My eyes travel over the tall, brown-haired man dressed in jeans and a black sweater talking with our professor.

I watch as he tosses his head back in laughter.

He is male perfection indeed.

I don’t know how it happened, but Dr. Matthew Hawthorne, my neighbor and the man who has the starring role in every one of my fantasies, is having an animated conversation with my professor.

With envy swirling in my gut, I follow Gwynn into the room and take a seat, wishing the entire time that I was the woman Dr. Hawthorne couldn’t take his eyes off of.

Chapter Two

Matthew

I’m not one to take a trip down memory lane, but I made an exception today. Erin Stein is celebrating her birthday.

I consider myself something of a gentleman, so I didn’t ask if this birthday, in particular, was what many would consider a milestone.

I’m closing in on my thirty third birthday. Even though she doesn’t look it, I know that Erin has at least a few years on me.

It’s not that it shows on her face or anywhere else, but she tutored me in biology when I was in college. She’d already completed medical school by then, so the math adds up.

I throw Erin one last wave before I dart out of the lecture hall.

I’m due at the vet clinic I work at in an hour. I pulled the late shift today. I can’t complain. The extra time I had this morning gave me a chance to not only catch up with Erin but to spend a little one-on-two time with my identical twin nieces.

Dora and Georgie just turned seven and are about to welcome a baby brother into their world.

My twin brother, Roman, and his wife Bianca are readying themselves for kid number three.

I have no fucking idea how you go about doing that.

I’m in awe of both of them, and if one day I happen to become a member of the dad club, I’ll look to my brother for tips.

Until then, I’m meeting him half a block from here for a quick cup of coffee and a pep talk.

I’ll be the one giving the talk.

Roman is heading into court later today to argue a case that has a young widow battling it out with her late husband’s adult kids.

I know nothing about estate law other than the fact that it’s how my brother pays his bills.

“Dr. Hawthorne, is that you?”

As I’m about to grab the handle on one of the doors that lead out of NYU, a breathy feminine voice turns me on my heel. I’ve always been in a rush to get out of this place. That dates back to the days I fought through my courses here.

I had my eye on the prize at the end. The science rich curriculum and cutthroat competition to land a spot in veterinary school may be a thing of my past, but I’ll never forget that time in my life.

“It’s me,” I say to a young woman I don’t recognize.

She comes at me with outstretched arms. “You saved Navy’s life.”

Navy. Navy.

I skim through my mental patient roster, trying to put a set of paws or a beak to the name. I come up empty.

As the unfamiliar woman wraps her arms around my neck, I hover a hand over her back, not quite making contact.

I’m all for touching a beautiful woman, but only those I know. I’m standing in a college with a stranger who can’t be more than nineteen. I’m guessing that’s her age because the tight T-shirt she’s wearing has the name Bess stamped across it and a date nineteen years ago beneath it with an est. added on for good measure.

I’m going to go out on a limb and assume that’s meant as an abbreviation for ‘established.’ It’s witty in a cutesy kind of way.

She steps back, and with a rake of her hand through her blonde hair, she straightens her back. “He’s doing much better, thanks to you.”

I study her face because sometimes the pet’s owner is more memorable than the patient, but not this time.

“I know you said I should bring him back in a month, but I’ve been busy.” She shuffles from one sneaker covered foot to the other. “I can come later today if that works for you. My last class is at three.”

Tags: Deborah Bladon The Hawthornes of New York Romance
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