A ball skirted the wall and I was certain it was going to hit and bounce toward the center.
I hugged the wall to avoid interfering with his shot. But the ball didn’t bounce off the wall, it was making a beeline over my head, and Cory was headed straight for me, racquet extended upward.
The brief twang of the racquet making contact sounded over me before he braced his arms against the wall on either side of me. Mere inches separated us. His breath, his sweat, his body heat…all of him consumed me. My heart thundered. The rush of blood through my veins deafened me and I wondered if he could hear it.
He enclosed me in a world I wanted to inhabit. I tried to repeat my mantra, but my brain froze. The cold wall offered support but did nothing to encourage me to keep my hands to myself. I brought my free hand to his inked forearm and brushed my fingers over his flesh.
Tracing the contours of his muscles over sweat-slicked skin had me engaged in a mental war over whether I would stick to my mantra or inch forward to kiss him.
The edges of his lips curled but his eyes glowed with hunger.
Was that the same look he’d given Jessi?
I don’t date doctors.
Forcing my eyes down, I couldn’t really say my mantra won because my heart was screaming that I’d lost. I was a fool. I took life too seriously.
I cleared my throat and he backed away.
The mass of his body withdrawing from me took away more than his presence. I’d wanted him close, even closer. But I knew better. No matter who was at fault when we broke up, working together would be impossible. I’d only been on the job one day, not the time to prepare to find a new hospital.
“Let’s take a break,” Cory said, opening the door.
A break was dangerous, time to talk, sit..I stared at the bench we sat on the day we’d met. The memory of his leg pressed against mine made me shiver. Near miss. Thank goodness he’d had to rush away. I wouldn’t have known to ask him if he was a doctor. “I’m fine, let’s keep playing.”
He picked the ball up from the floor and motioned to me. “You’re breathing way too hard. I need a break anyway.”
Taking a drink from the water fountain, he left me on the court alone. Consciously controlling my breaths, I brought them to a normal pace. Cory didn’t have to know why they were heavy.
I walked out to get a drink and he sat on the bench, wiping his face with a small workout towel. “Can you believe it’s been an hour already?”
Finishing my drink, I checked the clock. My chest ached, damnit. It’s not like we were lovers leaving for different countries. We weren’t even together. Would never be together. I forced a smile, channeling gratefulness I managed to survive a date, no, an outing with Cory. “Wow. Guess our time is up.”
“No one’s here to kick us out. Want to go another round?” He bounced the ball off his bicep into his hand, over and over again.
“I really should get home.”
“Going to turn into a pumpkin?”
“That wouldn’t do us any good since we’re not playing squash.” The comment immediately went to the top of the list of things I wished I hadn’t said.
He packed up his racquet and ball while his smirk melted my worry. “I was going with Cinderella, but okay. Are you working tomorrow?”
“I have the day off. I’m going to catch up on some personal stuff.” Which didn’t exist, but my efforts to avoid getting roped into a date with him had to stay vigilant.
“Me too, but I volunteer at the free clinic. I could use a hand.”
There was only one acceptable answer, no. I wasn’t spending my free time with him. Except I was. And I wanted to. “Which clinic?”
“The free one the hospital runs. One of the nurses who’s scheduled got sick. You’ve shown off your court skills, you wow me with your nursing skills next.”
Chapter 6
Cory
Driving to the clinic the next morning had my nerves on edge, something I wasn’t used to. Years of studying, practicing, and logging one success after another had made nerves a thing of the past. Why did Romy walking into my life bring them front and center?
Unsure of why she’d switched to giving me the cold shoulder from our first encounter when she left me needing a cold shower, I was pulling out all of the stops. Fair enough for her not to throw herself at my feet. It was kind of refreshing, especially after my last fiasco, a double date with friends, and Jessi, the date from hell.
Romy was a challenge. I would prove myself worthy of her time, her heart. The last part was the problem. How could I be sure I wanted someone’s heart when I’d closed mine off? Aside from all of the obvious reasons anyone would be attracted to her, something weird happened in my chest when I thought about her which was pretty much every day and every night.
I hadn’t opened my heart to anyone. The only love I’d ever experienced was within my family, and I only retained fragments of the way it comforted me when I was a little boy, long ago. Those tendrils faded every year, no matter how many good deeds I did, no matter how much of my life I gave up making the world a better place. Too long ago to be called a lifetime. My life path had changed in a heartbeat, comfort wasn’t enough anymore. Success had been the only thing that mattered. Something a nine-year-old boy shouldn’t have to figure out, especially on his own.
I shook the heavy thoughts from my mind as I grabbed my lab coat and scanned the patient list, wrapping my brain around the adventures for the day. Even with walk-in appointments available, there weren’t likely to be any surprises.
A red mustang pulled into the parking lot, visible from the front desk through the glass doors. Romy. I laughed at how perfect it was for her personality, the one I’d seen when we met at the rec center and the gift swap. Finding out what caused her to stifle her spunkiness was on the agenda for our time together at the free clinic.
And if I’d come on too strong, begging forgiveness wasn’t off the plate. I’d been set up with so many women I wasn’t attracted to, I’d fallen out of practice expressing interest.
We exchanged pleasantries and the other nurse whisked Romy away to orient her with the clinic.
Brief professional encounters while Romy gave me the heads up on the next patient endeared me to a new side of her. She knew her stuff and the patients she interviewed were more relaxed and prepared to talk to me. The other nurses would do good to learn her secret for taking vitals and helping the patient put their concerns into words.
There was a profound benefit to helping a patient talk. The rumor mill had already hinted she was outstanding. Experiencing it in person warmed my heart. Anyone who excelled at their job had my full respect.
After the last couple of patients took longer than we’d allocated, I was grateful lunch was ready and waiting. I always ordered a catered lunch for the small staff on my free clinic days.
“I don’t usually get treated to lunch,” Romy said.
“A thank you for donating your time. Where’s Suzie?” The real question, how long would I get to be alone with Romy? Two more seconds or twenty minutes? I’d take anything I could get with her. The world felt lighter and more positive when she was around.
“She had to run an errand. I told her to go for it. I’ll cover for her if she doesn’t get back on time.”
“Good deeds all the way around.” I tipped my water bottle to her.
She laughed, picked hers up, and we crunched the plastic bottles together. Returning her attention to her bento box, she separated the chopsticks and started eating.
My gaze lingered. I could have studied her all day. Her adept use of chopsticks, the giggle when the noodles were longer than expected, and the way her tongue flitted out to lick the sauce from her lips made the meal a captivating experience.
Sitting next to her would have seemed forward, maybe even presumptuous, but sitting across from her made her my focal point. And if she licked her lips one more time, I questioned whether I could control myself. As it was, my breath hitched each time sh
e did it and my cock begged to find out what else it liked to lick.
I shoved food into my mouth while forcing my eyes to my meal. Sexual thoughts tangled with my admiration for her diverse skills: racquetball, handling a rigorous patient schedule, chopsticks, and her seamless flow into the hospital staff like she’d been there forever.
“Thanks for lunch. I’ll start making sure we’re set for the afternoon shift.” She placed her hands on the edge of the table to push away.
I put a hand on hers and she froze, staring at our contact. A strange sensation consumed me. Breathing became difficult, my skin tingled, and my heart raced. Digging up the meditative training I’d done to help me keep my composure under any circumstance, I managed steady words. “Thank you for today. This is the smoothest day we’ve ever had.”
She continued to study our hands as if deciding what the unusual touch meant. “Some days are easier than others.”
I cradled her hand between both of mine. I wanted her to be mine. Visions of lazy weekends filled with lovemaking and cuddling her overflowed my mind. I swallowed hard. Weekends were for lengthy workouts at the gym, weights and cardio followed by scouring medical journals. The smallest tidbit in an article could prove useful. My mantra had been to immerse myself in my work. Learn everything and have the best chance of succeeding in every situation.
Would having a woman in my life make me normal, prevent me from being the top pediatric surgeon? Get in the way of my routine?
Given her emphatic stance of not dating doctors, I’d never find out. Somehow the safety of her belief emboldened me.
An element of wanting something I couldn’t have might be at play. And she deserved to be acknowledged for doing her job better than I was used to it being done. “This isn’t chance. This is you. We’ll have to study how you interact with patients and teach the other nurses whatever magic you work.”
She pulled her hand away and slipped both of them into her lap. The demure side of her personality kicked into high gear. Downcast eyes, slight smile, rounded shoulders.
It was adorable and made me want to wrap my arms around her, but I loved the fiery side of her even more.
Energy hung in the air. She had to have noticed it or she would have gotten up as she’d planned.
I studied her. How had she ignited a spark in me? A spark that threatened to burn down my carefully crafted life. If I won her over, would my accomplishments go up in smoke? Could I find a way to fan the flames without getting burned?
Dark strands of hair had fallen over her shoulders. The slight curl at the bottom of her locks begged my fingers to tangle in them, find out if they were as silky as they appeared. Deeper thoughts yearned to toss her onto my bed, let her hair fan out around her head while I enjoyed her naked body. I couldn’t deprive myself forever.
Both of my hands were on the table and Romy’s eyes flitted to my clenched fists then briefly to my face before darting back down. Damn. I couldn’t be around her without wanting to be her everything.
Opening and closing my hands, I struggled to release the tension gripping me.
Looking at her was a problem. I saw everything I wanted in life. Completeness. Was it even possible?
Her gaze trailed to my tattoo covered forearms. I couldn’t determine if she was judging me since her head remained lowered, but watching her study me from under her lashes drove me insane.
We shared a moment even if we both insisted we didn’t want it.
A smile crept over her face but wasn’t accompanied by the usual questions. What did the tattoo mean? Did it hurt? How many do I have?
She closed her eyes and her chest expanded with a deep breath.
A nearly imperceptible shake of her head preceded her pushing away from the table. “I better go.”
“I’ll be right behind you.” Was our lunch progress? Did I want progress. I had no idea how to gauge her reactions with the veneer she’d adopted.
A higher than normal volume of walk-ins showed up for the afternoon giving us no time to explore what happened over lunch.
I dictated notes to the computer while Romy was in with the next patient.
Movement to my left caused me to pause the dictation.
Romy had walked out of the room and leaned against the wall, dropping her head backward, the manilla file clutched to her chest rather than inserted into the room’s file holder.
The visage revealed her vulnerable side. We all had one. Most of us hated to share it. I thought I’d buried mine deep until I met Romy and she used a virtual chest spreader to expose my heart. Truthfully, I’d wondered if I had one, or had I buried it so deeply I forgot to let it beat. She left no doubt it was alive and well.
Mentally donning the mask of a medical professional, I approached her and noticed a tear.
I detoured the hand I was instinctively raising to brush it away and braced myself on the wall beside her. I had to allay my urge to wipe it by imagining the softness of her skin under my thumb. A kiss would have followed. I had to cut myself off. “You okay?”
She flinched, straightened her posture, and cleared her throat. Ducking her head, she rushed a finger up and wiped her tear.
Whatever was in the exam room wasn’t bigger than her. I might be lying, but I had to tell it to myself on numerous occasions. Releasing a long exhale, I wished I could give her a hug, even a friendly one. As medical professionals, we saw things no one would believe, things capable of breaking mere mortals. That’s why we broke down sometimes. People loved hearing our funny stories, but there were some we couldn’t share.
Seeing Romy break, even crack would destroy me. I had to help her through this.
I fought myself to avoid tucking her hair behind her ear. Instead, I placed my hand over the one she used to hold the chart. “We’ve got this. Let me guess. A kid?”
She shook her head and sniffled.
“Let’s go to my office.” It was only mine on Friday, but it would offer privacy. I slipped the chart into my free hand and took hers in mine, leading her down the hallway.
Suzie walked out of an exam room and her expression dropped.
“I’ll be right there,” I said as we passed by.
A nod. She understood, free clinics could take a toll on the doctors and nurses. On the one hand, we offered help, but ignorance, red tape, and poverty created their own toxic medical cocktail. Government programs aside, people still went without.
With the door to the office closed, we sat side by side in the two chairs in front of the desk. Romy put her elbows on the desk, rested her face in her palms, and breathed. Sometimes the hardest thing to remember to do. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“It will. And it’s okay.” I rubbed a hand over her hair and partway down her back before I stopped myself. Protective desire coursed through me and I had to stifle it. Romy didn’t need to worry about me. I pulled back. “Tough case? What I am about to walk into?”
She sat back in the chair. My effort to let her take the lead apparently working. “A baby. Underweight, weak.” Pausing to gather herself, her pained expression stared blankly across the room. “The mom says he’s been sick for two weeks.” She stood and rubbed her hands over her face. “I’m glad they’re here, but this baby should have seen a doctor when it first got sick, or at least after a couple of days.”
I rose and wrapped her in a hug. The weight of her body sank against mine revealing her curves but also her heavy breaths, the kind that tried to drive sorrow from your soul.
My mind was tortured between the variety of ways I wanted her in my life, to help her and care for her, versus the routine of the life I’d created. The success of it. I saved lives on a daily basis. Every single one mattered.
Was it arrogant to think I could have it all? Was that the kind of move which made her despise doctors? I tamped my desires down, the way I’d done with everything else in my life. “Stay in here if you need a minute. Thanks for the heads up.”
She withdrew, pasted on a smile, and
said, “I’m fine. It just hurts sometimes.”
“It sure does.” I walked out, afraid she might shed another tear which would strip me of my strength. Plus there was a baby to save.
By the time I finished with the infant, Romy was tackling her duties like nothing had happened. I assured her the prognosis was good, and we left it at that, setting our focus on the next person waiting for our attentions.
After the last patient left, I followed her into the exam room where she was stocked supplies. “Great work today. I hope you’ll consider coming more often, preferably on days I’m here.” I tried to give a playful wink, let her know it was one of those jokes that wasn’t really a joke.
“I’ll definitely do it again. I don’t have a family of my own to occupy my time.” Her comment was matter-of-fact, leaving me no hint of her underlying emotions. “Why do you do it? You’re a surgeon. Why are you practicing general medicine? Aren’t there charity surgery cases requiring your expertise.”
I helped her put the extra supplies on the top cabinet shelf so she didn’t have to use the stepstool. “I handle the charity surgery cases in with my normal load. I used to be a Family Physician but most patients only needed a little boost to get better, or they ended up seeing a specialist. I wanted to make a bigger impact so I went back to school to be a pediatric surgeon.”
Romy continued to the next room and we reviewed the same restocking checklist. “You’re really special, aren’t you?”
Her sarcasm hurt. “We all have to use our talents. I didn’t find mine on the first try. It wasn’t my passion. But you, I can see your passion for being a nurse. It translates to your ease of working with everyone, you’re a natural.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Every day’s a new day, new experiences, new people…”
Handing the box for the top shelf to me, she let her words trail off.
I tried to guess what she might say, found myself experiencing jealousy over couples who were able to finish each other’s sentences. I closed the cabinet. “Romy, give me a chance.”
Healing My Heart Page 3
