Open Heart (Dr. Love): A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance

by Flora Ferrari

  The hospital’s close, and choosing the least showoff set of keys I can think of, I call out for Evelyn to let her know I’m ready, I have to watch her ‘O’ shaped mouth a little longer as we walk through the house to the garage and past my cars.

  I’ve settled on my Jaguar. Something I drive most days, although it’s one car I barely fit into.

  Like I said, the hospital’s close.

  But Evelyn’s not worried about the cars, I can tell it’s the whole house that has her interest piqued.

  “Did you just move in?” she asks, trying to sound casual, but I can see her wide eyes and mouth mirroring her inner thoughts on all she’s seen so far.

  “Been here almost ten years,” I confess. Feeling the hum of the V12 open up under me as I pull out of the gated driveway, the car feeling like it knows its way to the hospital by now.

  I make some small talk on the way to the hospital, discovering that Evelyn wants to study medicine despite her dad’s wishes.

  Her special interest?

  Cardiology.

  No way.

  “I might just be able to help,” I suggest again, not meaning to sound cryptic. But if there’s one guy in the country who can help her with her study goals, it’s me.

  She stays quiet, gnawing her lip until we finally reach the hospital and I remind myself about taking baby steps.

  I don’t want to scare her off by acting like Dr. Big stuff, and the main focus is really on her dad’s health right now.

  That and getting her between my sheets to rightfully claim what’s mine.

  But it has to be on her terms, not just mine.

  And way before that, we need to make sure her dad’s okay too. My number one patient right now.

  That old blast from my past, Nick Partridge.

  Yay me.

  “Evelyn,” I tell her. “Sorry for being so full-on, but I-” I start to tell her until I see the familiar shape of the hospital director clipping towards my car.

  I let the driver’s side window down.

  “Morning John,” I remark, watching his eyes settle on Evelyn in the seat beside me, narrowing as he shoots them to meet mine.

  “Your flight leaves in an hour, Mark. Cutting it a little close wouldn’t you say?” he says, obviously seething.

  “I rescheduled,” I tell him honestly, sensing Evelyn shifting in her seat next to me.

  “We have a surgical relief team here at nine, Mark. No need for you to even be here,” he says, grinding his jaw.

  I shoot him a little smile, my winning one.

  “I’d like to check in on my patient, and his daughter’s here too. She’d like to see her dad if that’s okay? Do you need the bill paid before she can do that? Because I can write you a check right now, John.”

  He’s already storming off, and Evelyn is already looking at me for an explanation.

  “I got this,” I tell her. Meaning everything.

  The hospital director, my job. The bill for her dad’s surgery and hospital stay.

  Everything.

  “I got this,” I say again, turning to face her with a look I hope tells her everything’s alright still. But I can’t help notice she isn’t as happy as I want her to be.

  “Whatever you’re risking, Mark. Is it worth it?” she asks me, meaning her. Her dad.

  My feelings for her. My job and everything else she doesn’t know about me just yet.

  “There’s no risk, Evelyn,” I tell her. “Just remember what I told you already, mine,” I remind her, leaning over to kiss her.

  “As long as you’re here with me, everything’s just perfect.”

  “Is it?” she rasps coldly, watching the hospital director walk away. “I wonder if it is. If it ever could be.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Evelyn

  I haven’t told him so yet, but I think I love Dr. Mark Love.

  I mean, what’s not to love?

  He’s freaking perfect, isn’t he?

  Last night was so special, this morning even more so with breakfast and everything else so far.

  Something tells me every day, each moment with Mark could be just like that.

  If only I’d let it.

  Maybe he’s right. Maybe I’m just too down on myself to believe magic really happens.

  Maybe I’m not ready to believe a god like Mark Love could just swoop down from heaven and solve all my problems with a smile and a slick tongue where it counts.

  I think I need to see my dad. I need to make sure he’s okay. To know any of this is even real anymore.

  “Let’s go see your dad,” Mark offers, reading my mind again and making me feel bad for even doubting him for a second.

  But it’s not him I doubt.

  It’s still me.

  How the hell could a guy like this be remotely interested in someone like me?

  His firm hand on my thigh makes me jump a little.

  “Because I think I might just be in love with you, Evelyn Partridge,” he says in a low, smoky voice.

  My heart’s in my throat in a second, and his eyes lock on mine before he kisses me again.

  There.

  He said it, now can we move on?

  I don’t know if I can though. This whole thing is too crazy, no matter how much I tell myself I know it’s right.

  Mark calmly walks me up to the recovery ICU where my dad is, checking in with the nursing staff before encouraging me to go see him, alone.

  “I’ll be right here,” he reminds me, nudging me forward but not wanting to go see for himself for some reason.

  Everything he needs to know is in dad’s notes, I guess.

  The nurse at the edge of dad’s bed is so kind. She tells me my dad can hear me if I want to talk to him, but seeing him like this I don’t know what to even begin to say.

  His eyes flutter, and one of his hands reaches out for mine.

  In a second I’m sitting on the edge of his bed, crying.

  Sobbing how much I wished I’d been there. Telling my dad how awful I feel for not being there when he needed me.

  Wishing I could tell him how stupid he was for not going to the doctor in the first place.

  But he’s one step ahead of me.

  “I should’ve listened to you, girl…” he wheezes, trying to move but only managing eye contact.

  The machines monitoring him beep and pulse around him, making it feel like I’m talking to my dad inside a video game.

  “You’re gonna be fine, dad,” I assure him. Almost relieved when he goes back to sleep, my hands under one of his.

  “He’ll be extremely weak for a few days,” the nurse tells me. “But he’s doing really well so far,” she adds, a matter of fact.

  Seeing dad so weak, so helpless, I can’t help but remember how sick he looked just a day ago.

  Even though he’s so unwell still, he looks better than he did the last time I saw him and I know exactly who I have to thank for that.

  Mark’s strong hands on my shoulders make me lift my head, turning to meet his eyes.

  The nurse doesn’t flinch, even when my dad’s eyes flip open again.

  “You!” he gasps, his whole body shuddering as the beeping equipment pulses faster. My dad’s heartbeat starting to ping off the charts at the sight of Mark.

  “Yoooouuu!,” my dad growls again, his hands balling into fists as the nurse rushes to check equipment, administering more drugs.

  Mark joins her, barking instructions and in a few moments dad is calmer, slipping back into sleep.

  “I was afraid that might happen,” Mark confesses, reassuring me dad’s fine.

  “Just a bad start to waking up. It happens sometimes,” he adds.

  The nurse doesn’t look so sure and her eyes dart from Mark’s to mine before settling back on my dad as she moves closer to adjust his bedding. Making him comfortable again.

  But I can’t help thinking about what just happened.

  Every time my dad sees Mark he loses it.

  Why?r />
  I don’t wait too long before I ask Mark himself once we’re back out in the hallway.

  “What is it between you and my dad?” I ask him, point-blank.

  He looks away, taking a breath in but not saying a word.

  “Every time he’s seen you on TV or in a magazine, he starts foaming at the mouth,” I protest. “Mark, what the hell is going on? I’m not five years old. I can see…” I add, not ashamed to let my hurt feelings showing.

  Remembering how Mark was so interested in the photos of my dad in our house.

  “The truth, Mark,” I demand. The one time I feel I could ever doubt, him or what I really want to hear, I’m not sure which is worse.

  Mark’s tense face softens. We’re outside the ward and it’s quiet again in the sterile corridor.

  “Evelyn, I just told you. Sometimes when patients wake up… Their reactions are hard to predict. You’re dad’s fine though. He just needs more...” he tries to tell me.

  “Time?” I ask, huffing now. “My dad sees you and starts to yell and you tell me he needs more time?” I hear myself nearly shouting.

  Sounding a lot like my dad wanted to just now.

  Mark sighs heavily, looking down at his feet.

  “Can we just go, Evelyn?” he asks. “Just go someplace else for a while?”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, confused. “Like back to your house?”

  “Like to Bermuda,” Mark says firmly, promising to explain everything if we can just get away for a few days together.

  Maybe a week or two.

  He leans in for the kiss I want, but there are too many unanswered questions.

  “My dad’s just had open heart surgery and you want me to go to Bermuda with you?” I hear myself almost screech.

  “Just for a while,” Mark says calmly, not even looking around as I throw a near fit right in front of him, showing him the flip side of gentle Evelyn.

  He doesn’t flinch.

  If anything, I think it excites him a little.

  “Your dad and I have… a history. But you and I have a future,” he says with authority.

  Before I can even think of anything to say, Dr. Mark Love says it all over again.

  More like a clinical command than an invitation.

  “I want you. To come with me. To Bermuda.”

  His brown eyes flash with light and that mischief. Everything I love about him.

  But I can’t help but feel mad about how cagey he’s being about everything all of a sudden.

  About how dismissive he’s being about my own dad who’s lying in a hospital bed I still haven’t figured out how to pay for.

  “Come to Bermuda with me. I’ll explain everything on the way. We can talk about everything else too,” he adds cryptically.

  “Everything else?” I hear myself scoff.

  “How about I check you in for your own procedure, doctor?” I tell him, feeling myself shaking with anger, along with a thousand other emotions.

  “…See you into surgery myself to have your head pulled out of your ass!” I yell, pummeling his hard chest with both hands before storming off down a corridor I have no idea where it leads to.

  It sounds like it was someone else.

  Someone far away, like a boom from an airplane or a car backfiring.

  But it came from me.

  I don’t know where that came from, or even where I am.

  My whole world’s turned upside down again for the second time in twenty-four hours and I don’t even know why I’m taking it out on the one man I know who can save me.

  Save me and my dad.

  But it’s too late.

  Through tear stained eyes I fumble my way looking for the elevators, willing myself home somehow.

  Willing myself somewhere I don’t have to know any of this anymore.

  Knowing Mark Love, and the memory of his touch is too much when I couple it with the reality of my dad lying in a hospital bed, broken.

  Me unemployed, and no chance at college anymore.

  I don’t know what else to do but run and try to hide.

  Like I’ve done my whole life.

  But Mark Love isn’t the kind of man to let me run any more.

  He won’t let me even try to hide either.

  Catching me by the stairs, he gently reaches out for me after calling out, spinning me around until I’m in his firm hold again.

  His big arms wrapped around me, answering more questions than I could ever ask without words.

  But I still can’t understand it all.

  I’m still too mad.

  I feel myself pushing free, his voice in my ears pleading with me to stay. To hear him out.

  But I’m already gone. Lost back into a world where I don’t feel anything except fear and indecision.

  A world without Mark Love to hold me tight, guiding me through it.

  A world I need to remember before I can even go back to him or my dad.

  A world I feel swallowing me whole with every step as I race down the stairwell, feeling burnt by the sunlight once I hit the street outside the hospital.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Mark

  It’s too much too soon.

  Despite my best efforts to hold on to her, to tell her how I feel.

  She’s gone.

  I want to reach out to her, to grab her. But I know I can’t.

  She asked me a simple question about her dad’s history with me and I couldn’t give her an answer.

  I wanted her all to myself instead.

  The sing-song voice in my head, like the hospital director telling me what to do. What I know I should have done my whole life but just never found the right woman.

  Why Bermuda though? Why would I even suggest it? I’m such an idiot!

  Too much too soon.

  I’d never push things in surgery, so pushing things too fast in real life feels just as dumb.

  Real life.

  Something I realize I probably haven’t experienced until meeting Evelyn.

  She is real.

  Everything’s real when she’s around.

  Without her, everything feels… Sterile.

  Vacant.

  Like an operation. A procedure.

  Something I know now I’ve been doing every second of my whole life, every day without her in it.

  But it’s too late.

  Or is it?

  I can’t chase her down, bend her to my will.

  Can’t make her feel something she doesn’t.

  But I can protect her. Watch over her until I can at least reason with her.

  Make her see how stupid I’ve been, and all the while making sure her dad is safe and well too.

  So of course I follow her. I have to.

  She’s all I have now and I’m not just gonna let her run away, no matter how much of a mess I’ve made of things so far.

  I know she’s headed home. Know there’s only one way down the stairs, a long and lonely trip down to the bottom.

  But I figure she needs time.

  I need time too. To figure out exactly how I can explain all of this to her, to her dad once he’s conscious.

  All the things I never got to explain all those years ago, things that seemed unimportant to me until I see a door closing. Knowing she’s behind it, moving away from me.

  My instinct is to call out, to race after her, and grab her. Pull her close to me. Tell her how stupid I’ve been.

  My knowledge of the building wins out though. I can give her some space as well as find her if I use my logic, saving my emotions for later.

  Security gives me a blank stare when I ask which way someone went from the south stairwell. But I know which way she’s headed.

  Home.

  The house I don’t want her in anymore. The house I’ve already decided to pay for if it isn’t already, so her dad has one less thing to worry about.

  Ah, Nick! Why did we ever fight? What a waste of years. Life’s too short.

  Making my way ba
ck down to my parking spot, I feel an urgency I don’t like. The not knowing and maybe even real prospect of losing Evelyn, before I even claim her properly.

  The thought draws a low groan from deep inside me, but one that has an edge of determination to it.

  If she wants to know everything about my past, fine. I just didn’t feel like trying to explain it all in ten seconds in a hospital stairwell.

  The same feeling that’s brought us together heightens my senses, letting me know which way she’s gone.

  It isn’t long after I pull out of the car park I see her getting into a cab and feel some relief at least.

  I can keep an eye on her from here, follow her home and hopefully talk to her once she’s calmed down a little.

  It’s the longest car ride of my life, with each set of lights and other cars on the road feeling like the only thing keeping me from her, apart from the fact she’s mad as hell at me.

  Probably hates my guts right now.

  She’s so cute when she’s mad though.

  I catch myself grinning in the rearview mirror to myself at the thought of her, pouting with rage and pushing past me with a strength I’d like to see employed in other ways.

  More sensual ways.

  I almost lose my place in traffic, someone behind me honking once the light turns green and I hear my tires squeal as I race to catch up, not wanting to lose sight of her even though I know exactly where she’s headed.

  I slow once the cab stops out front of her dad’s place, noticing how much smaller it looks in the daylight.

  She looks like she’s been crying and I feel a stab of pain in my chest, kicking myself for letting it come to this.

  But if she knew what happened between her dad and me, would she really have acted any different?

  Only one way to find out and that’s to tell her.

  Her dad certainly doesn’t seem to have forgotten. Doesn’t seem to have lost any of that chip on his shoulder he’s been carrying since that summer all those years ago.

  I watch the cab pull away, my eyes following her to her door as she lets herself in. Not even looking back at me, not knowing how much it pains me to even be this far apart from her.

  After what feels like a year but is most likely only a few minutes, I can’t help myself.

  I kill the motor and stride up to her front door after crossing the street. Neighborhood sounds and the warmth of the day making me feel calm on the outside at least.