The Forbidden Throb (Emma and Daniel) novel Chapter 169

Chapter 169

“Thank you, Quinn. Really.”

He gave me a small smile before heading back toward the surgical wing, and I made my way to Daniel’s office.

At eight-forty, I heard footsteps in the corridor.

The door opened.

Daniel stood there, freshly showered, wearing the blue Oxford shirt I’d brought. His hair was still damp, a few strands falling across his forehead. Deep red marks from his surgical mask ran from his cheekbones to behind his ears.

These marks on his pale skin looked like battle scars. Evidence of hours spent bent over an operating table, every muscle tensed in

concentration.

He saw me and stopped. For a moment, we just looked at each other.

Then his lips curved into that small, gentle smile I’d come to know so well.

“You brought me clothes,” he said.

“I thought you might need them.”

“I did.” His thumb stroked across my knuckles. “Thank you.”

We stood there in the quiet office, just holding each other.

“Have you eaten?” I asked finally.

He shook his head.

I smiled and tugged him toward the elevator. “Come on, Dr. Prescott. Food first, existential questions later.”

Outside, the air was sharp and cold. Daniel pulled me closer, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

“Want to grab something nearby?” he asked.

“Let’s just go home,” I said. “I’ll make you something.”

He stopped walking. “Emma, I can just eat something simple. You don’t have to-

“I want to.”

Chapter 169

And I did. I wanted to take care of him the way he was always taking care of me. Wanted to feed him and make sure he rested and be there when he needed someone,

“Okay,” he said softly. “Home it is.”

But we’d only made it a few steps when I remembered something. “Wait here,” I said, already turning back toward the hospital entrance.

“Emma-”

“Three minutes! I promise!”

I ran back into the building and out the side entrance where I’d seen a 24-hour deli earlier.

Five minutes later, I was jogging back to the parking garage, arms full of bags. Chicken vegetable soup, still steaming. Soft dinner rolls. A container of roasted chicken salad-no spicy seasonings, I’d made sure to ask.

Daniel was leaning against his car when I found him, and the look on his face when he saw me running toward him, slightly out of breath and laden with food, made the whole mad dash worth it.

“Eat something warm first. I’m afraid your stomach might be bothering you.” I said, handing him the bags as I caught my breath. “Just to tide you over until we get home. Then you can tell me what you want, and I’ll make it for you.”

He looked down at me, his expression unreadable.

I’d run too fast. I could feel my cheeks flushed pink from the heat, probably making me look like a windblown mess.

Then, without a word, he took the bags from my hands.

The moment he opened the plastic tie, steam rose up, filling the space between us with the rich, savory scent of chicken.

“I noticed you never eat spicy food,” I said, watching him carefully. “Is it your stomach? I asked them to make sure the soup wasn’t spicy at all.”

I gestured to the container. “The radish in their soup is really good.”

He hadn’t said anything. My words started to falter, uncertainty creeping in.

“If you don’t like it, we can just leave it,” I finished quietly.

Several seconds passed. Then his Adam’s apple bobbed once, and when he finally spoke, his voice came out rough, like he’d temporarily forgotten how to use it.

“I love it,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”

In the driver’s seat, Daniel opened the container of soup. I watched him take the first careful sip, saw the tension in his shoulders ease slightly.

I turned to look out the window, giving him space to eat. But my eyes kept drifting to his reflection in the glass. The way he moved, the care he took with everything, even something as simple as eating soup from a plastic container.

Our eyes met in the reflection. I froze, caught staring.

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The Foruddan Theos