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Doctor Baby Daddy (My Baby Daddy #2)
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Never sleep with your doctor.
Doctor Gavin Scott seems perfect.
Turns out, he’s a total jerk.
Now that gorgeous doctor wants more from me, but I’m terrified.
Doctor Baby Daddy is a steamy sweet treat with an alpha doctor that just needs to make a baby! If you like steam and strong men, this one’s for you. It’s a safe standalone with no cheating and a happily-ever-after guaranteed. Enjoy Dr. Gavin!
Note: All my Baby Daddies NEED to make a baby! Even if they don’t know it yet! If you love snarling alpha men and insta-love, these standalone stories are for you.
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“Have you seen our resident? Holy shit, talk about hot. I mean, I hear he was the youngest resident, like, ever? And I totally believe it. Look at that guy…”
I tune the girl out, this pretty blonde girl with wide blue eyes. Her name’s Tracy, and she’s super nice, but I can’t listen to her right now. I’m staring down at the teal floor, rubbing my comfortable shoes against the grime caked on there and wondering how often they clean this place, and really, they should be cleaning every day, and oh my god, what if I can’t hack this, and what if I can’t live up to all the standards I put on myself and…
I’m basically shaking. I mean, I think I might puke. I’m standing in a hospital corridor behind some desks with a group of interns, waiting for our resident to stop talking with the nurses and to give us the time of day, and I’m so nervous I think I might seriously be sick. I can’t stop my brain from running in circles.
I try to concentrate on the floor. Teal, dirty, tile. Simple, nothing bad here.
I’ve never felt like this before. All through undergrad, through med school, I never got nervous. I was good at it, actually. Graduated top of my class, left with some great scores and great recommendations, and landed at Jefferson Hospital to do my intern year before starting my residency. All through school, I kept myself together, was cool and calm and collected, mostly because I had to be.
See, here’s the thing. Med school is like the Hunger Games, except with fewer women. Everything I did was under a microscope. I had to be faster and smarter and better than my male counterpoints, because, obviously. If I wanted any attention, any recommendations, anything at all, I had to be better than just good. I had to be absolutely great.
I worked my butt off. I tried harder than I ever tried before, and it paid off. It got me here and I should be so happy.
Instead, I’m just a nervous wreck.
I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s our resident, this guy named Gavin Scott. Tracy isn’t kidding when she says he’s handsome.
He’s absolutely gorgeous. Chiseled body, face with just the right amount of stubble, light green eyes that I could get lost in, and these lips that looks like soft pillows. I want to run my hands through his hair, thick hair, and find out exactly how much he knows about the female body.
Or maybe it’s just the fact that I’m actually in a hospital and I’ll be learning on real, live patients.
Finally, Dr. Scott pulls himself away from the nurse, looking grim as he walks over to our group. He’s wearing a white coat, dress shirt, stethoscope dangling casually around his neck, his hands absently playing with a file clasped between them. There are ten of us, each one of us straight out of med school, doing a single internship year before we take on our own residency. Basically, the residency is when we can practice medicine without supervision but we’re still in training for a specialty.
Right now though, we’re the bottom of the barrel, the lowest of the low. And the way Dr. Scott’s looking at us, I’m pretty sure he thinks that, too.
“Good morning, interns,” he says, his voice like deep butter.
“Good morning,” we say in unison like freaking schoolchildren. I can’t help but wince.
But he smirks. “Glad to see you’re all chipper today. How many of you did well in your classes?”
The question seems to make everyone balk for a moment. I know for a fact that if we’re all standing here in this hospital right now, we all did well back in med school, although nobody expected him to ask about it right now.
But this isn’t medical school anymore. This is the internship year, and it’s about to get really, really real. I don’t see why he cares about grades, unless…
I raise my hand. “I did well,” I say.
He smiles sweetly. “Good. One of you is brave, at least.” He clears his throat. “Unfortunately, nobody gives a shit how well you kids did in school.”
I sigh and put my hand down. I kind of figured that’s what he was aiming at. I glance at Tracy and she gives me a quick sympathetic frown.
“Here’s a fact,” Dr. Scott says quietly. “You’re all smart, motivated, driven individuals. You wouldn’t be standing in front of me if you weren’t. But being smart and being driven and being a good doctor aren’t the same fucking thing. Do you all understand that?”
Silence. Utter and total. I stare at our resident and I wonder if he’d be upset if I puked on his shoes. His perfect black shoes attached to that gorgeous freaking body…