More Than Words: More Than, Book 3 by Jess Dee

Wrapped her arms around his neck, clung tight and kissed him with every iota of emotion she’d ever felt for him.
    It lasted hours. Or maybe seconds. Molly couldn’t tell. She didn’t try. She just gave herself over the incredible reality of finally, finally being kissed by Sam.
    And when he let her go, when he stepped back, his breath as ragged and uneven as hers, she had to grab the countertop for support.
    His expression was as fierce as it had been before, as intense. His eyes were blazing and his breath erratic, but somehow his voice was steady, which was a total mystery to Molly, seeing as she couldn’t have strung a sentence together had her life depended on it.
    “Read your email, Molly. I’ll be in my office, waiting. For you.”
    With that, he walked out of the kitchen, pausing long enough to look over his shoulder. “Happy birthday, by the way.”
     
     
    Molly gaped at her office in amazement.
    Twenty minutes ago, when she’d arrived at work, it had been her normal, regular office. Now it was filled with sunflowers. Bunches and bunches of them, her favorite flower.
    There were cupcakes too. A whole selection, beautifully packaged in a baker’s box: vanilla, chocolate, red velvet, choc-mint and strawberry. Each of them was covered with thick, butter icing—her weakness—and had “Happy Birthday” piped on top in a rainbow of colors.
    The card attached to the vase of flowers closest to her computer held a simple message:
     
    May all your birthday wishes finally come true.
    Sam
     
    That was it. That was all it took to open the floodgates. Molly sat in her chair, card in hand and stared sightlessly at the cupcakes as tears streamed down her cheeks.
    She’d been right. In that first letter she’d sent him, eons ago, she’d told Sam she’d probably cry if he ever kissed her. She’d said the reality would be overwhelming.
    And it was. Totally and utterly overwhelming.
    He’d kissed her—quite magnificently really.
    He’d said he loved her.
    Sarah was his friend. Nothing more.
    He’d filled her office with flowers and cupcakes.
    He hoped all her birthday wishes would come true, and—thanks to that first email—he knew exactly what those birthday wishes were and whom they involved.
    It took forever, but Molly’s vision finally cleared enough for her to open her inbox and read Sam’s email.
    What he’d written took her breath away.
    Sam hadn’t misled her about Sarah. He’d been straight up and down the line the whole time.
    The knowledge made her want to sprint to his office, throw herself into his arms and tell him how darn much she loved him. But—as Murphy’s Law dictated—she’d barely wiped the tears from her cheeks when the first patient arrived, and any further personal access to Sam was blocked for the rest of the morning.
    Which left her with several hours to work out the best way to tell Sam she loved him too.
     
     
    Sam stared listlessly at his inbox. Allan Bennet’s lab results were in, and like he’d expected, the glioma was low-grade and benign, a brilliant result all round. Yet Sam couldn’t really focus on it. Couldn’t concentrate. His thoughts were consumed by the woman sitting on the other side of his office door.
    He’d kind of hoped for more than a phone call from Molly. Sure, she’d thanked him for the flowers and cupcakes, but she’d been all business about it, announcing his first patient was there at the same time. And that was about as much communication as they’d had the whole morning.
    No mention of the earth-shattering kiss they’d shared in the kitchen earlier. Or of the fact he’d told her he loved her. And explained his relationship with Sarah went no further than friendship.
    His computer pinged, and he closed Allan’s results to check his inbox.
    There was only one new mail, from his receptionist, and it was flagged as urgent.
    Hospital in quarantine, doctors’ rooms locked down.
    What the fuck? Jesus, no wonder Molly had tagged it