Read Online Unlocking the Surgeon's Heart by Jessica Matthews - Free Book Online
Authors: Jessica Matthews
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herself the curtains were tightly pulled and the alarm clock was turned off. By the time she tiptoed to the door and flicked off the overhead light, an occasional soft snore punctuated the silence.
She smiled. Until now, she would have sworn that a man as tightly in control as Linc was wouldn’t allow his body to do anything as ordinary as snore. It would be interesting to see how many of her other preconceived opinions he’d disprove over the coming weeks, although she hoped he wouldn’t.
Learning that Lincoln Maguire was a great guy underneath his staid exterior would only lead to heartbreak.
* * *
Linc woke to the most delicious aroma—coffee. He sniffed the air again, trying to catalog the other scent that mingled with his beloved caffeinated breakfast blend. It reminded him of…
Waffles. His eyes popped open and it took him a few seconds to realize he wasn’t in his own bed. Memories of last night crashed down and he immediately checked the bedside alarm clock.
Eleven-thirty. No wonder the sun was peeking around the edges of the heavy drapes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept that late, although he vaguely remembered waking at one point to use the bathroom and shed his clothes before he crawled between cool, fresh-smelling sheets.
He also didn’t recall the last time he’d awakened to the aroma of a delicious meal. Although he didn’t expect her to prepare his breakfast, he hoped she’d prepared extra for him this morning. As he swung his bare legs over the bed’s edge, his stomach rumbled in agreement.
Raking a hand through his hair, he rose, stepped into his previously discarded pants, and followed his nose.
Derek and Emma were seated at the kitchen table and Christy stood in front of the stove, clad in a pair of above-the-knee light blue plaid cotton shorts that showed off her delightfully long legs and a matching blue button-down shirt. Both children had powdered sugar dusting their faces, syrup smeared around their mouths and milk mustaches.
Emma saw him and her eyes lit up. “Christy?” she asked in a loud whisper. “Can we use our regular voices now?”
“Not until you’re uncle is awake,” she whispered back.
“But he is,” she declared in a normal tone. “Morning, Unca Linc.”
Christy turned, spatula in hand, and her eyes widened before a big smile crossed her face. “Good morning,” she said as her gaze pointedly remained above his neck. “The coffee’s ready if you are.”
He nearly smiled at her discomfiture, then decided it wouldn’t win him any brownie points. “You read my mind. Thanks. Can I pour you a cup, too?”
She shook her head. “I’m not a coffee drinker.”
“Really?” he asked as he poured his own mug. “I thought everyone who worked in the medical profession mainlined the stuff.”
“I used to, but I switched to herbal tea. It’s better for you.”
“Probably, but you can’t beat a bracing cup of coffee to jump-start the day.” He watched her flip a perfectly made waffle out of the iron and dust it with powdered sugar. “That smells good.”
She chuckled. “Are you hinting you’d like one?”
He was practically drooling, but he was too conscious of his morning scruffiness to agree. His face itched, he needed a shave and a shower, and his teeth felt furry. He definitely wasn’t presentable for the dining table.
“I should clean up first.”
“Probably,” she agreed, “but this waffle is ready and the griddle’s still hot if you’d like seconds.” Her gaze traveled up and down his full length, making him even more aware of his half-dressed appearance. “Judging from the way you look, the kitchen will be closed before you come back, so I suggest you eat first and shower later.”
He got the sneaking impression that once she unplugged the waffle iron she wouldn’t plug it in again. How had he ever thought her easygoing and malleable? She had a steely spine that he’d never seen and certainly hadn’t
She smiled. Until now, she would have sworn that a man as tightly in control as Linc was wouldn’t allow his body to do anything as ordinary as snore. It would be interesting to see how many of her other preconceived opinions he’d disprove over the coming weeks, although she hoped he wouldn’t.
Learning that Lincoln Maguire was a great guy underneath his staid exterior would only lead to heartbreak.
* * *
Linc woke to the most delicious aroma—coffee. He sniffed the air again, trying to catalog the other scent that mingled with his beloved caffeinated breakfast blend. It reminded him of…
Waffles. His eyes popped open and it took him a few seconds to realize he wasn’t in his own bed. Memories of last night crashed down and he immediately checked the bedside alarm clock.
Eleven-thirty. No wonder the sun was peeking around the edges of the heavy drapes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept that late, although he vaguely remembered waking at one point to use the bathroom and shed his clothes before he crawled between cool, fresh-smelling sheets.
He also didn’t recall the last time he’d awakened to the aroma of a delicious meal. Although he didn’t expect her to prepare his breakfast, he hoped she’d prepared extra for him this morning. As he swung his bare legs over the bed’s edge, his stomach rumbled in agreement.
Raking a hand through his hair, he rose, stepped into his previously discarded pants, and followed his nose.
Derek and Emma were seated at the kitchen table and Christy stood in front of the stove, clad in a pair of above-the-knee light blue plaid cotton shorts that showed off her delightfully long legs and a matching blue button-down shirt. Both children had powdered sugar dusting their faces, syrup smeared around their mouths and milk mustaches.
Emma saw him and her eyes lit up. “Christy?” she asked in a loud whisper. “Can we use our regular voices now?”
“Not until you’re uncle is awake,” she whispered back.
“But he is,” she declared in a normal tone. “Morning, Unca Linc.”
Christy turned, spatula in hand, and her eyes widened before a big smile crossed her face. “Good morning,” she said as her gaze pointedly remained above his neck. “The coffee’s ready if you are.”
He nearly smiled at her discomfiture, then decided it wouldn’t win him any brownie points. “You read my mind. Thanks. Can I pour you a cup, too?”
She shook her head. “I’m not a coffee drinker.”
“Really?” he asked as he poured his own mug. “I thought everyone who worked in the medical profession mainlined the stuff.”
“I used to, but I switched to herbal tea. It’s better for you.”
“Probably, but you can’t beat a bracing cup of coffee to jump-start the day.” He watched her flip a perfectly made waffle out of the iron and dust it with powdered sugar. “That smells good.”
She chuckled. “Are you hinting you’d like one?”
He was practically drooling, but he was too conscious of his morning scruffiness to agree. His face itched, he needed a shave and a shower, and his teeth felt furry. He definitely wasn’t presentable for the dining table.
“I should clean up first.”
“Probably,” she agreed, “but this waffle is ready and the griddle’s still hot if you’d like seconds.” Her gaze traveled up and down his full length, making him even more aware of his half-dressed appearance. “Judging from the way you look, the kitchen will be closed before you come back, so I suggest you eat first and shower later.”
He got the sneaking impression that once she unplugged the waffle iron she wouldn’t plug it in again. How had he ever thought her easygoing and malleable? She had a steely spine that he’d never seen and certainly hadn’t
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