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How Much I Feel

Page 18

by Force, Marie


  A shot of Mateo resting in his hospital bed is shown. He looks so tiny and defenseless in the big bed.

  The footage cuts back to Desiree. “Ms. Diaz and her son found themselves in the right place at the right time today, and little Mateo is resting comfortably tonight after surgery to remove the tumor. Dr. Northrup told Ms. Diaz that with follow-up treatment, her son has a good chance of recovering from his ordeal. No doubt that chance was made better by Dr. Northrup, a nationally recognized expert in this particular pediatric brain tumor, which makes the citizens of Miami lucky to have him in our community. This is Desiree Rivera reporting from Miami-Dade General Hospital for NBC 6 News.”

  “What an incredible story, Desiree. Thank you for bringing that to us.”

  “Holy crap.” I look at Jason, who seems as stunned as I feel. “She never even mentioned New York! This is best-case scenario, Jason.” I whip out my phone. “I’ve got to get that story linked to the Instagram account.” It takes a few minutes of clicking around on my phone to locate the video on the NBC 6 website and get it loaded on Jason’s Insta account. I make liberal use of hashtags, including Miami, newdoc, pediatricneurosurgeon and lifesaver.

  “How did Desiree know we’d transported him?”

  I can’t tell if he’s happy she knew or pissed. “Um, I might’ve texted her to let her know you identified an emergency at the clinic and were taking him to Miami-Dade. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Yeah, of course. The mother signed the release, so it’s fine. And it was good thinking. That story was just . . .”

  “It was just what we needed.”

  He puts his arm around me and brings me into his warm embrace. “I’ll never be able to thank you for what you’ve done. You’ve brought about a miracle in a few days’ time.”

  “You brought about your own miracle with what you did for that child today.”

  “It’s all you. Without you, I’d be sitting in a hotel room spinning in my own misery while people I’ve never met debate whether my career should continue. But you . . . Look what you’ve done, Carmen.”

  I bask in the glow of his praise. That someone as accomplished as he is should think so much of me professionally is a heady moment. “We’ve done it together.”

  He squeezes my shoulder. “Yes, we have, and we’re going to do it again together.”

  I give him my best sexy coy look. “Are we still talking about redeeming your reputation?”

  He runs his hand up and down my arm in a gentle caress I feel everywhere. “Among other things.”

  I’m crazy about him. I’ve lost all perspective where he’s concerned. What took years to happen with Tony has occurred in a matter of days with Jason. Granted, I’m fifteen years older than I was when I met Tony. I was still a child then. Our relationship came from a place of friendship first and grew into much more as we got older and became more aware of all the things it could be.

  This, with Jason, is far more immediate and urgent. The more time I spend with him, the more time I want with him. I rest my head against his chest as the TV weatherman drones on about another South Florida scorcher on tap for tomorrow.

  “I should go and let you get some rest,” he says after a long period of quiet.

  I don’t want him to go, but I can’t seem to get the words out at first. “You . . . You don’t have to. Go, I mean. If you don’t want to.” I cringe at how silly I must sound to him.

  “I don’t want to be anywhere but with you, but only if that’s what you want, too.”

  I raise my head off his chest to look him in the eyes. “It’s what I want. Stay.”

  He smiles and leans in to kiss me. “Can I borrow your toothbrush?”

  “I can do you one better. I’ve got a brand new one with your name on it.”

  “See? It’s meant to be.”

  I’m beginning to think he might be right about that.

  JASON

  Being in bed with Carmen is surreal and exciting, so exciting that sleep is the last thing on my mind while she’s warm and cozy in my arms. I breathe in the fresh, clean scent of her hair and nuzzle her satiny soft skin. Her skin is to die for. My hand slides under her T-shirt to cup a breast that fills my palm to overflowing. I’ve had her twice, and I want more. I’m addicted to her. Carmen has blotted out Ginger, like a total eclipse of the sun, or in this case, a total eclipse of the mess I left behind in New York.

  When I pinch her nipple lightly between my fingers, she squirms in my arms and presses her ass against my hard cock. I should be exhausted after the day I put in. I usually crash and burn after a long, intense surgery like the one I performed earlier, but I’m wide awake, keyed up and incredibly turned on.

  I couldn’t believe that news story she orchestrated or how perfectly it worked out to put the emphasis on my skills rather than the scandal. I’ll send the link to my mom tomorrow. She’ll love it and will be relieved to see things moving in the right direction. It’s all thanks to Carmen. I suppose I need to tell Mom about her, too.

  “Jason!”

  “Sí, bebé?”

  She goes still in my arms.

  “I’ve been practicing my Spanish.”

  “When have you been practicing your Spanish? You haven’t had time to breathe.”

  “In between things. Mostly I’m looking for a special name for you. How do you feel about bebé?”

  “What’re my other options?”

  I continue to toy with her nipple while I recall the list of words I committed to memory while I waited for Mateo to stabilize to the point where I felt comfortable leaving him in the capable hands of the surgical nurses. They know to call me if his condition changes.

  “There’s corazón.” Sweetheart. “Bonita.” Beautiful. “Hermosa.” Gorgeous. “Cariño.” Honey.

  She inhales sharply. “Not that.”

  That must be what Tony called her. Cross that off the list. “Querida.” Darling. “And my personal favorite, Rizo.”

  She cracks up laughing as I hoped she would. Rizo means curly.

  I twirl a wild curl around my index finger. “I think that might be our winner.” For now, anyway, because it’s probably too soon for mi amor. My love. But I already suspect I could love this extraordinary, courageous, smart, inventive, resilient woman.

  She’s an intriguing mix of innocence and worldly experience. I’ve never met anyone quite like her. I’ve certainly never met anyone I admire as much as I do her. What she survived at such a young age would’ve ruined a lesser person. But not mi tesoro, my treasure. She picked herself up from the ashes of her husband’s tragic, senseless death, finished college and graduate school and has made such a huge difference in my life since we met with her skill and passion for the task at hand.

  I want to do something to show her how thankful I am. No matter what happens with Miami-Dade, the first chance we get, I’ll whisk her away to the Bahamas for a long weekend or something else that will tell her how much her efforts mean to me.

  One minute I’m caressing her breast and thinking about the Bahamas, and the next minute, or so it seems, the alarm on Carmen’s phone is going off. I can’t recall the last time I slept as soundly as I did with her in my arms, steeped in the bewitching scent of her hair. Her hand is entwined with mine, and the sweet intimacy of that touches me profoundly.

  “Carmen.” I kiss her shoulder and work my way up to her neck. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Is my Rizo grumpy in the morning?”

  “Go away.”

  I laugh and kiss her some more until she groans. “Is this an everyday thing or just a workday thing?”

  “Every.”

  “Good to know, but we need to get going. I have to go home and change before the clinic. And I assume you need some of Juanita’s special brew to overcome your morning grumpiness.”

  She grunts out a reply and snuggles deeper under the covers.

  “Oh no you don’t. Get that sweet, sexy ass out of this bed.” I give
her a pat on the bum to encourage her to move.

  Giving me a stormy look, she says, “Are you always so freaking cheerful in the morning?”

  “If I say yes, is that a deal breaker?”

  “Potentially.”

  “Then no, I’m not cheerful in the morning. I’m a nasty bastard. Better?”

  “Much.”

  “Get your ass out of bed so I’m not late for work.”

  Groaning, she does as directed and drags herself into the bathroom, taking her phone with her to silence the alarm.

  When the door slams behind her, I crack up laughing. I love discovering this new side to her, one that no one else has gotten to experience since she lost her husband. I can’t wait to discover every side of her—the good, the bad and the grumpy.

  CARMEN

  I’m barely awake when my phone chimes with a text from Mama D, who’s Tony’s mother, Josie. How’s the new job? Hope you’re loving it. Let me know when you can—and let’s do lunch. I’ll come to you!

  Seeing her name on my screen fills me with an overwhelming feeling of guilt after what happened with Jason last night. Of course, I know that Tony’s family will support me in anything I do, but are they ready to see me with someone new? Am I ready for them to see that?

  Yes, dammit. I’m ready, and I want this with Jason, even if he’s relentlessly cheerful in the morning. I shower and dry my hair, once again leaving it curly in deference to his affection for my curls.

  I love that he’s calling me Rizo, that he took the time to learn terms of endearment in Spanish. I loved having sex with him last night, and I can’t wait to do it again. In my closet, I find a dress that’ll allow me to appear professional but won’t cause me to overheat at the clinic.

  I’m about to leave the bathroom when I remember the text from my mother-in-law. I lean against the vanity for a minute as I stare down at the screen and think about what I want to say to her. The job is great. I’m on a special assignment helping one of the new docs this week. Will call you later!

  Jason is dressed and ready to go when I emerge from the bathroom. The sight of his handsome, smiling face makes my stomach flutter with excitement for another day with him. After he takes a turn in the bathroom, he studies my face as he steps up to me, putting his hands on my hips. “Is it safe to kiss the sleeping dragon?”

  “Yes, she’s fully awake now.” I pucker up to make my point.

  Still smiling, he comes in slowly, letting the anticipation build before he touches his lips lightly to mine and then takes them away before I have a chance to fully enjoy the kiss.

  “More.”

  “Not now.”

  “Yes, now.”

  “Grumpy and demanding in the morning. I’m learning a lot about you, and it’s only eight o’clock.” He kisses my forehead, the tip of my nose and my lips again quickly—far too quickly for my liking. “If I start kissing you again, I won’t want to stop, and we’ve got somewhere to be.” He releases his hold on me and steps back.

  I’m gratified to see the sizable bulge in his pants.

  “Stop looking at it.”

  “Don’t want to stop.”

  “Gotta stop. You know the number for Miami-Dade, by any chance? I need to check on Mateo.”

  “I do.” I rattle off the number for him.

  He asks for surgical ICU and is connected to the nurse’s desk. “This is Dr. Northrup checking on Mateo Diaz.”

  I try not to listen too closely as he talks to the nurses, but hearing and seeing him in doctor mode only adds to my interest in him. As he asks complex questions and listens to answers, he’s competent and concerned for his patient. After five minutes on the phone, he thanks the nurse and ends the call.

  “How is he?”

  “Doing great. He had a good night. I’ll swing by later to see him in person.”

  I grab my purse and head for the door, aware of him following me. I can’t be anywhere near him and not be aware of him, even when we’re doing nothing more exciting than walking to the stairs. When we’re on the way down, I hand him my phone to hold while I dig through my purse, looking for his keys.

  “You got a text from Mama D.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I find the keys, take the phone from him and read the text. Can’t wait to catch up. I have to tell her about Jason. Abuela invited him to Sunday brunch, and Tony’s parents always come. I have to tell them about him before Sunday. I can’t believe what’s happened since this past Sunday.

  “Everything okay?” Jason asks when we’re in the parking lot.

  “Uh-huh.” I feel queasy at the thought of managing Tony’s family in the context of my new relationship. And is this a relationship or a fling? I’m not entirely sure, which has me wondering if I should even be mentioning it to them. Ugh.

  He holds the driver’s door of my car and waits for me to get settled before closing it. After he gets into the passenger seat, he turns to me. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Mama D is Tony’s mother.”

  “Oh.” He takes a minute to process that. “Are you feeling, you know, guilty . . .”

  “No!” I sigh. “Maybe a little. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel.”

  He reaches for my hand and cradles it between both of his. “I assume you’re still close to them?”

  “Very.”

  “And is it safe to assume that they love you and want the best for you?”

  “Yes,” I say softly. “They’ve been incredibly supportive of me.”

  “So would it also be safe to assume that they’d be glad to see you happy, even if it’s still a raw wound for all of you and probably always will be?”

  I appreciate that he gets that Tony’s death is still a raw wound for us, that it probably always will be. I nod in response to his question. “It’s hard.”

  “I know, sweetheart. Well, I don’t know. Not really. I can’t possibly know what it was like for all of you to lose him the way you did. I only know that I really like you. I may even more than like you, and I want to be with you. But I also want to be respectful of how difficult it is for you to take this step with me and for those who love you to see you with someone new.”

  My heart trips over the words “more than like you.” My gaze connects with his. “It means a lot to me that you get it.”

  “I’m trying to get it. Tell me if I screw up?”

  “I’d be happy to.”

  We share a warm smile that leads to another kiss.

  “Are you going to tell her about me?”

  “I want to.”

  “But?”

  “I guess I’m not sure if it’s too soon to be saying anything to anyone. We don’t even know where you’ll be next week, and I just don’t want to get too far ahead of myself.”

  “I suppose that’s fair enough, but you should know . . . Regardless of what happens with Miami-Dade, I want to be wherever you are.”

  I’m dumbfounded by his candor. “Oh. Um, you do?”

  “Yeah, I do.” He presses his lips to mine once again, this time sliding his hand around my neck to kiss me for real. By the time he pulls back, I’m dizzy and drunk on whatever it is that comes over me when he kisses me that way. “I wish we had nowhere to be today so we could go back upstairs to your bed and I could show you some of the many ways I want to be wherever you are.” More kisses, more dizziness. “This weekend . . . Can we please spend it together?”

  I’m nodding before he finishes asking the question.

  “Every minute?”

  “Yes, every minute.”

  “Now I have something to look forward to.”

  He resettles himself in the passenger seat, and I somehow manage to start the car. After a quick trip to his hotel so he could shower and change, we arrive at Juanita’s ventanita in Priscilla. He made a case for driving me since I wasn’t caffeinated yet, and it might be safer for both of us. He thinks he’s funny after finding out I’m grumpy in the morning.

  When Juanita sees me with Jason for the s
econd morning in a row, she raises a brow. In Spanish, she asks if there’s anything I want to tell her.

  “No,” I reply, “nothing to report.”

  She laughs and calls me a liar. “I know something when I see it, amiga, and I see something. And before you can deny it, just know I’m happy for you. No one deserves it more.”

  Jason stands by my side while I shamelessly talk about him in a language he doesn’t understand. He pays for two cortaditos and two dozen pastelitos for us and the clinic staff.

  “Saw you on the news last night, Doc,” she says to Jason. “Thank God you were able to help that sweet child.”

  “I’m glad I was in the right place at the right time.”

  “We’re all glad for that.”

  Twenty minutes later, we arrive at the clinic to find an even longer line than yesterday.

  “Holy shit,” he whispers.

  “You’re in hot demand, Doc.”

  “I see that.”

  “If it’s too much, you can still say so. No one says you have to be here indefinitely.”

  “I’ll be here until every one of these people is seen.”

  CHAPTER 18

  CARMEN

  It takes three days for Jason to see all the patients who come to the clinic. He treats everything from gout to hemorrhoids to asthma to diabetes complications to scabies. According to Jason, he’s heard from almost everyone he’s ever known since the news segment went live, which he attributes to my posts about it on Instagram as well as his mother posting the link to Facebook.

  We fall into a routine that includes long days at the clinic followed by daily stops at Miami-Dade for him to check on Mateo and for me to brief Mr. Augustino on our progress in person.

  “The coverage on NBC 6 was huge,” Mr. Augustino says on Friday evening. “I’ve heard from several members of the board about it. Keep up the good work, Carmen. It seems to be having the desired effect.”

  Jason is thrilled when I tell him that, but he’s not himself after having been to see Mateo. He’s met me in my office, where I’ve been killing time looking at emails detailing other projects that’ll require my attention when this one is finished and reading documents the former director of public relations left for me. As I read, it occurs to me that I still haven’t called Tony’s mother, and I’m running out of time before Sunday brunch.

 

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