All Chapters of My Boyfriend’s Dad Is My Gynecologist : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Beth I slid into the booth and let the cool vinyl kiss the backs of my thighs through my pencil skirt. It was barely noon and already warm outside, but the air conditioning in the café had my skin prickling. Or maybe that was just him. Dr. Cole.Rachel grinned and all but shoved me further down the seat as she slipped in across from me. “You don’t mind, do you?” she said innocently, like she hadn’t just maneuvered the seating chart like a horny cruise director.“Nope,” I said, dry. “Not at all.”That left Dr. Cole to take the spot next to me—his tall, quiet, brooding presence pressing in as he settled beside me. Adam slid in across from him, right next to Rachel, who was already twirling a napkin between her fingers and batting her lashes like she’d been hired by Cupid Inc.“So Adam,” Rachel began, her voice pitched a little higher, “do you work out, or are you just naturally built like a Greek statue?”Subtle as a brick, that one.Adam chuckled, running a hand through his perfectly

Dr. ColeLunch ended too soon.I should’ve dragged it out. Ordered dessert. Taken my sweet time watching Beth try to keep her composure while her eyes begged me to misbehave. But instead, I let her sashay out of that café like I didn’t want to follow her straight to her apartment and break the damn bet myself.Professionalism. Right.Back in my office, the silence felt heavier somehow. Not clinical—just… lacking. Like something important had just walked out the door and taken the air with it.I’d barely finished reviewing patient charts when Adam strolled by, knocking twice before sticking his head in.“You wanted to see me?”“Yeah,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Come in. Close the door.”He arched a brow. “Sounds ominous.”“Relax,” I said, waving a hand. “You’re not in trouble. I just wanted to… check in.”He stepped inside, letting the door shut with a soft click. “Everything okay?”“More than okay,” I said. “You’re settling in well. Patients like you. Rachel likes you.”That g

BethWhen Tommy said his dad lived in the city, I pictured a sleek apartment—maybe something sterile and chrome, minimalistic, cold. I did not expect a whole damn house tucked behind a row of tall hedges and a wrought-iron gate like some secret executive compound.“What is this?” I asked as Tommy pulled into the curved driveway, my forehead practically pressed to the passenger-side window.“My dad’s place,” he said, casual as hell, like we hadn’t just pulled up to a full-on home. Two stories, wide porch, warm porch lights glowing like an invitation. “Pretty decent, huh?”“It’s a house,” I said flatly.“Yeah,” he chuckled, killing the engine. “The man’s old. He likes yards and shit.”I rolled my eyes and grabbed my bag, heart ticking up a notch. There was something about seeing it—Stacy’s house—that made this all feel a little more real. Like I was stepping into his world instead of just brushing against the edges of it.Tommy looped his arm around my shoulders as we walked to the door

Dr. ColeThe pasta was hot, the wine was poured, and Beth had barely taken her first bite when her phone buzzed. Then again. Two quick vibrations that lit up her screen with a glow I pretended not to notice—but I noticed.She kept her face neutral, but her eyes flicked down fast. A second later, her expression shifted almost imperceptibly. Not fear. Not dread. But concern. The kind that meant Rachel had just sent her something, and that something made her wonder if she was about to lose.She looked up—right at me.I didn’t say a word, just met her gaze and arched one brow. She tried to play it off with a small smile, too small to be convincing.I’d seen that look a hundred times. It was the same expression women gave right before bad news landed—before a test result, before a biopsy, before a break-up they weren’t ready for. That tiny flicker of, Shit. Maybe I miscalculated.It was perfect.But before I could savor it—before I could press and ask if she was enjoying the first course o

BethThe first bite of cake melted on my tongue like lemony sin. Soft, tart, and dangerously good—exactly the kind of thing that made you forget your dignity and beg for seconds. I was halfway through my slice when Stacy slid his phone toward me, screen up, and said nothing.I glanced at it, fork still halfway to my mouth.It was a message from Adam.“She stopped me mid-dry-hump to say she was going to freshen up and get ‘more comfortable.’Call your little bet in the bag.No final update till morning. 😉”My whole body froze except for my jaw, which dropped hard enough to make me thankful I wasn’t mid-bite.“Fuuuuuuuuck,” I groaned, dragging the word out like it might buy me more time or reverse the laws of attraction.Stacy’s smug-ass grin was already fully in place.I narrowed my eyes at him and straightened up, clearing my throat. “It’s not over until the fat lady sings.”“Wow,” he said, fake offended. “Bit harsh calling your best friend fat. I wouldn’t say she’s fat at all—but sh