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  Touch

  As the go-to therapist at Elite Therapy, Dr. Hayley Sims is the best in her field. It’s exactly why she’s just been assigned her most challenging patient yet, hockey player Elizabeth Stone. Not because Stone’s injury is complicated, but because she is intense to work with and needs someone to keep her in check. When Hayley’s personal life starts unraveling and she realizes she might be developing feelings for her patient, she’s torn between finishing her assignment and walking away to protect herself. Can Hayley get Stone back on the ice in one piece while keeping her heart from breaking?

  What Reviewers Say About Kris Bryant’s Work

  Forget Me Not

  “Told in the first person, from Grace’s point of view, we are privy to Grace’s inner musings and her vulnerabilities. …Bryant crafts clever wording to infuse Grace with a sharp-witted personality, which clearly covers her insecurities. …This story is filled with loving familial interactions, caring friends, romantic interludes and tantalizing sex scenes. The dialogue, both among the characters and within Grace’s head, is refreshing, original, and sometimes comical. Forget Me Not is a fresh perspective on a romantic theme, and an entertaining read.”—Lambda Literary Review

  “…She has a way of giving insight into the other main protagonist by using a few clever techniques and involving the secondary characters to add back-stories and extra pieces of important information. The pace of the book was excellent, it was never rushed but I was never bored or waiting for a chapter to finish…this epilogue made my heart swell to the point I almost lunged off the sofa to do a happy dance.”—Les Rêveur

  Whirlwind Romance

  “Ms. Bryant’s descriptions were written with such passion and colourful detail that you could feel the tension and the excitement along with the characters…”—Inked Rainbow Reviews

  Taste

  “[Taste] is an excellent traditional romance, well written, well conceived and well put together. Kris Bryant has given us a lovely warm-hearted story about two real human beings with whom we can genuinely engage. There is no melodrama, no overblown angst, just two women with an instant attraction who have to decide first, how to deal with it and second, how much it’s worth.”—Lesbian Reading Room

  “Taste is a student/teacher romance set in a culinary school. If the premise makes you wonder whether this book will make you want to eat something tasty, the answer is: yes.”—The Lesbian Review

  Jolt

  “[Jolt] is a magnificent love story. Two women hurt by their previous lovers and each in their own way trying to make sense out of life and times. When they meet at a gay and lesbian friendly summer camp, they both feel as if lightening has struck. This is so beautifully involving, I have already reread it twice. Amazing!”—Rainbow Book Reviews

  Touch

  Brought to you by

  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  Touch

  © 2018 By Kris Bryant. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13:978-1-63555-085-6

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, NY 12185

  First Edition: January 2018

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Ashley Tillman

  Production Design: Susan Ramundo

  Cover Design By Deb B.

  By the Author

  Jolt

  Whirlwind Romance

  Just Say Yes: The Proposal

  Taste

  Forget Me Not

  Touch

  Writing as Brit Ryder

  Shameless

  Acknowledgments

  Every book tells a story. It’s an opportunity to weave imagination, realism, and dreams into one tiny package. As women, we are nurturing and have this desire to help and heal people. When I was little, I wanted to be a doctor but realized that I simply didn’t have the stomach for it. I’ve broken seven bones, have had four surgeries and numerous stitches, so I decided to combine all of my experiences and write a book about the process of healing—from the frustration of incapacitation to the glory of recovery. Only this time I took it a step further than anything I’ve experienced and weaved a little romance into this story.

  Thank you, Fiona Riley, for educating me on physical therapy. Having gone through it a time or two, I needed to know all the reasons why it’s important instead of bitching about the repetition of exercises. It was nice to have your expertise handy. Also, thank you, Kelly Harris, for being my in-town consultant. Hopefully, the next time we meet, it will be just to hang out and not me asking you a thousand questions.

  My heart swells for my beta readers—Maggie Cummings and Nadine Godsoe. I know we were pushed for time to get this book ready for Women’s Week 2017, and I really put the pressure on both of you. Thank you for dropping everything in your lives to cater to my whims. We got it done!

  I want to squeeze KB Draper for her help and advising me NOT to put an alien in this story. We met at Grinders one night and worked through the plot like responsible writers—for about five minutes. That was all I needed. I love you, my friend. M. Ullrich is just as fabulous with her advice. Thank you for being available 24 hours a day—even when you are sleeping and you answer me early on your days off.

  Bold Strokes Books always takes a chance with me and I appreciate their faith in my writing. I started this whole process completely wet behind the ears and I’ve grown over the past three years with their guidance and mentoring. The team behind the scenes is fantastic. We couldn’t be this successful without everybody working together.

  Cali—One day I’ll listen and learn from you and all of your editing wisdom. I really do try to remember everything. Except for the oxford comma. That asshole gets me every time. Thank you for sticking with me though. I can actually see you rolling your eyes and smirking at me right now. You know you love me. You know I love you back.—Champ

  To all of the readers out there—thank you for your support. Every review, every email, every FB message means the world to me. Truly. I put my heart out there time and time again with every book I write, and your support and appreciation fills it right back up. You are the most important people in this journey.

  Chapter One

  “Why does my new patient look like she’s a lot older than twelve?” I ask my boss. I catch a glimpse of a lone woman sitting inside the examination room, her head down, her left leg in a removable cast. My boss motions for me to follow her into her office and hands me a file, but waits for me to process the information before she speaks. When my mouth drops open and I turn to her, she starts explaining.

  “Okay, so she’s twenty-eight, but she’s here for a very good reason,” she says. I stare at her until she continues. “I need you to do this as a favor.” My boss, Gloria Bauer, knows I will do anything she asks, even if I want to scream and throw a tantrum. She explains that the patient is the daughter of her best friend from college and even though I have a dozen questions, I bite my tongue and nod. “She’s kind of a pain in the ass. That’s why I’m pairing you up. I guess I owe you lunch.”

  “Don’t be silly,” I say. Her smile is a mixture of a thank you and a touch of smugness. “This is at least a din
ner. A really expensive one. One with wine and candles. And you should buy me chocolate. The fancy ones with liqueur made by a chocolatier whose name I can’t pronounce.” I turn on my heel and leave her office before she has a chance to respond. We both know this is a big favor. I stopped working with athletes years ago. Now I only work with children. I take a deep breath before I enter the room where my latest patient is sprawled on the examination table.

  “Hi, Elizabeth. I’m Dr. Hayley Sims. It looks like I’ll be working with you for the next five or six weeks.” Her body language tells me she’s as excited about this as I am. She leans back on her elbows and looks at me with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. The corner of her mouth slides into a smirk as she looks me up and down. Her appraising nod makes me grit my teeth.

  “Call me Stone. Nobody calls me Elizabeth.” She reaches down and plays with the side of the paper that’s stretched over the examination table. The smile’s there, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. They’re piercingly angry. I stop myself from releasing a sigh. Her problems are definitely worse than mine. I quickly and quietly review her file in front of her. Her doctor’s notes are fairly extensive and as much as I want more time to study them, I know I need to assess Stone and make a decision on my own.

  “So Elite is your second choice after the team therapist. What happened at the other place? Why did you leave?”

  “The guy was an ass. He didn’t even look me over, he looked at my X-rays, read my report, and said I’d never play hockey on a professional level again.” Stone’s cheeks were blotchy. She was getting angry. “So, Doc, are you going to say the same thing?”

  “You can call me Hayley. And I have no idea why he would say that. Rehabilitation is a two-way street. It depends on you more so than on us. Once I can evaluate you and see where you are in the healing process, I can give you my opinion,” I say.

  “Are you a real doctor or just Gloria’s assistant?” She’s so dismissive of me. My defenses go up immediately.

  “Are you a real hockey player or just the Zamboni driver?” I shoot back. I can’t believe I came up with the name for that machine for the correct sport. I’ve never watched a hockey game in my life.

  Stone raises her eyebrow at me. She’s attacked my profession and I’ve attacked hers. “No offense, Doc. You just seem really young, vague, and unorganized. I’ve been around a lot of doctors and you lack their natural confidence. You seem more like an assistant or a nurse.”

  What did I do to deserve this? I stare at her for a minute and try to come up with something professional to say, even though I want to call her an asshole and explain to her that I no longer work with athletes because they are condescending. I also want to race into my office for my framed degrees, but I refrain. “Assistants and nurses are just as important to the medical field. For your information, yes, I’m an actual doctor with an actual degree. Gloria hired me knowing all of my qualifications. How about I take a look at you? Oh, unless you want me to grab our company directory so you can see photos of everybody and pick somebody more confident to be your doctor.” I shrug at her like it’s no big deal. I hate that I let her get under my skin so quickly.

  Her eyes get wide. “I’m sorry. I kind of have a bad attitude lately.”

  I nod in acceptance of her apology. “Okay, now that we’ve got that out of the way, why don’t you tell me what happened and how you got your injuries?” I wheel over a chair to sit in front of her. She sits up and watches as I gingerly remove the boot and bandages on her left leg. A fibula break is a tough one, but I’m more concerned about her fractured ankle.

  “My car decided to wrap itself around a tree,” she says with indifference, but she can’t hide the bitterness in her voice.

  “With a little help? Or just on its own?” Those heated, expressive eyes glare at me, but the smile’s still firm on her face. Now we’re in a staring contest. I want to smile because she doesn’t know how good I am at this game; I work with children eight hours a day. We both wait. I’m the epitome of patience. She is a body of barely controlled anger. I understand why my boss wants me to work with her.

  “I dropped my phone on the floor and took my eyes off of the road for a few seconds.” She shrugs. I nod, even though I don’t understand the need to text all of the time.

  “Well, let’s see what we are going to work with. Can you lie all the way back?” She slides back so that her leg is completely on the examination table. “Your hard cast was removed yesterday?” She nods. I carefully remove the rest of the dressing so I can look at the injury and the work already performed on it. “The surgeon did a great job on this.” There will be minimal scarring. “How does your ankle feel?” I gingerly move it to feel the flexibility in her tendons and get a general idea of mobility of the joint. It’s not as stiff as I thought it would be.

  “Like it wants to explode.” She wipes a tear away. I pretend not to notice. “I feel hopeless. Maybe it’s time to hang up the skates.” Her tone is sarcastic, but laced with sadness. I can feel her body heat before I even touch her uninjured ankle to get her attention. She looks up at me.

  “You’re not hopeless. Based on the notes from your doctor and the flexibility without a lot of pain in your ankle, I think you have a good shot at making a full recovery. We’ll get you back to where you were sooner than you think. I promise.” I see a flicker of hope in her eyes and I can’t help but smile. “I just need you to do everything I say. If you don’t feel it’s the right thing, then talk to me. Can you promise me that?”

  “I’m supposed to do everything you say? Is that how you get all the women, Doc?” At least the smile on her face seems genuine now.

  “No, just the one I’m engaged to,” I say.

  She laughs. “Touché. Off the market.”

  I’m glad we got that settled. Now maybe we can get down to business. “Because of the extent of your injury and the fact that I’m sure you want to get back into conditioning for the upcoming hockey season, I want you here five days a week. Will getting to Elite be a problem for you? I mean, do you have somebody who can drop you off and pick you up?” She nods. “We’ll start with some measurements and some simple stretching exercises today. I want to see what you’re capable of. I’ll send you home with some exercises, too. Do you have any questions for me?” I almost can’t look at her. I’m surprised at my reaction to her. She’s everything I’m normally not attracted to—athletic, tall, and cocky. I can’t help but compare her to my fiancée who is Stone’s polar opposite with long blond hair, brown eyes, and a petite frame. Alison is five foot three, whereas Stone brushes the six foot mark, according to her records. She’s got me beat by at least four inches, even leaning on her crutches. I roll the chair over to the desk as if I’m taking notes, but it’s really an excuse to get away from her. A hopeful Elizabeth Stone is incredibly sexy.

  “So why are you going to help me? I thought for sure Gloria was going to work on me.”

  “I’m one of two pediatric therapists here at Elite. I’m helping you because my boss wants me to. She knows that I can work with all types of people and children tend to be the most difficult.”

  Stone busts out laughing. “You’re brutally honest. Brutally.” She shakes her head. “I know, I know. I’m moody and difficult to work with, but I feel like this whole thing happened because of a stupid text. Thank you for making me feel like I’ve got a shot at getting back on the ice where I belong. I promise that I’ll try.” Usually this is the time my patient wants to hug me or high five me, but there’s a different energy in this room. I feel like I have to keep a front between us. Even though I’m going to get married in less than three months, I feel a small quiver in my stomach. That would be a good sign if I was single, but I’m not, and my reaction to her is unsettling.

  “I’m glad to hear your attitude. It will make a world of difference. How about late afternoons from about three thirty to five? Will that work for you?” Again, I avoid eye contact and focus on jotting down notes in her file.

&
nbsp; “Perfect. I can sleep in as late as I want to,” she says.

  I somehow think that someone on a professional hockey team is anything but lazy. I’m fascinated by why she’s trying to make herself sound indolent, when clearly we both know she’s not. I play along. “Just make sure to be here on time and do the exercises I give you to do at home. We need to get your ankle strong enough to support your weight again. We both want you out on that ice as soon as possible.”

  Chapter Two

  My favorite part of the day is my drive home. Some people hate rush hour traffic because they just want to get home to their frantic lives of racing around and utilizing every waking minute. I take the time to decompress and think about my patients. Today, I can’t stop thinking about Stone. She has so many layers and walls built up. Her injury is extensive, but not irreparable. The way her face lit up when I told her I didn’t see any reason why she wouldn’t be in good shape at the beginning of the season was a beautiful sight. She might miss several hockey practices, but getting her leg ready is far more important than learning how to execute plays. Gloria told me Stone has been playing hockey since she was four years old. I’m sure she will catch up quickly.

  Alison’s ring tone blasts through my car’s stereo speakers. Her call startles me out of my daydream, but I’m happy to hear from her, especially when I’m not expecting it. “Hey, babe.”

  “Hi. I just wanted to let you know that I’m home and we got our invitations back from Meredith. They turned out well.” I smile. Since the moment we started planning our wedding, Alison’s been leaving a lot of the busy work up to me even though they’re her decisions, too. Personally, I would love to run away and elope, but my family would be crushed. Plus, Alison has always dreamed of the fairytale wedding.