Jessica was going to rip that surgeon a new asshole when she saw him. That was what she was going to do!
She plopped down in the recliner next to Tyler’s bed and tapped her foot on the floor at mach three.
Asshole. Jerk. Over-bearing, over-protective, know-it-all surgeon. So what if she had a different last name? So what if she was a reporter? Tyler was her twin, and Gabriel was her stepbrother from her mom’s second husband. He’d been her brother since she was twelve. Different last name? Yeah. But so fucking what? Gabriel and his brother and sister had a different dad, and Tyler had elected to keep their biological father’s name. Jessica preferred to think of her father as the sperm donor and had assumed her mother’s maiden name of Finley when she turned eighteen.
Dr. Walker probably wouldn’t understand any of that. He probably grew up in a house with a white picket fence, two parents who actually loved each other and stayed together forever, and a golden retriever named Max who played fetch and slept at the foot of his bed every night to chase the monsters away.
“What are you so mad about, Jess? I can feel the rage from over here.” Tyler’s hoarse voice brought her back from the land of imagining ways to torture Dr. Walker, some of which were beginning to distract her. She’d imagined stringing him up naked, but the whole naked thing had ruined it for her. Completely distracting thought. He was supposed to be old, and ugly, and annoying. Not young, gorgeous, and annoying.
“Oh, the jerk who operated on you got me kicked out of recovery. I told him I was a reporter and since we don’t have the same last name, he didn’t believe I was your sister.”
“Well, you’re here now.”