Healing Touch

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Healing Touch Page 8

by Brenda Rothert


  “She never noticed me before that,” Carson said, wrapping an arm around my waist. “I’d check her out in the cafeteria, and she wouldn’t even look at me.”

  “You know me,” I said, leaning against his shoulder. “I get lost in my own world sometimes.”

  “This is a good dude right here,” Swanson said in a serious tone, nodding toward Carson. “Saved my ass many times.”

  I looked at Carson, whose expression was dismissive. His eyes were shining with pride, though.

  “You did the same for me, Swanson,” he said.

  The waitress set down our iced teas, and we kept talking. I loved the warm, solid feel of Carson next to me. I’d never felt the gooey warmth in my belly for Dean that Carson brought on.

  “You been back to Missouri at all?” Swanson asked Carson.

  Carson shook his head. “No reason to go back.”

  “You still have family there.”

  “Just my deadbeat dad.” He shifted in his seat and changed the subject. “You seeing anyone, Swanson? Other than your hand, I mean?”

  Swanson shrugged. “Not really. I’m never in one place long enough for that shit. And my hand is never whiny or demanding.” He grinned at me. “No offense.”

  “None taken,” I said, laughing.

  “I thought I wanted to be alone till Joss gave me a shot,” Carson said.

  “You guys look happy,” Swanson said. “I hope to have that someday. Kids, a house, the whole thing.”

  “You’d be good at that,” Carson said.

  “So would you. Fixing the leaky sink with a kid on your hip. I can see it.”

  Carson shook his head. “I’d be a shitty father.”

  I turned to him, shocked. “You would not. How can you say that?”

  He shrugged dismissively. “I had a lousy example, babe. You don’t want that kind of father for your kids.”

  “Then . . . I’m just a way for you to pass the time?” I said, unable to contain the hurt in my voice.

  “No.” Carson’s eyes darkened seriously. “Not at all. I’m just saying I don’t want kids, that’s all.”

  “That’s all,” I repeated sarcastically.

  Swanson looked as uncomfortable as I felt. The food arrived, and he tried to pick the conversation back up, but I felt like a switch had been turned off inside me.

  I was polite, but once we’d said goodbye to Swanson and he’d left, I shut back down again.

  “I’ll walk home,” I said to Carson, not meeting his gaze.

  “Babe . . . come on. Let’s talk about this.”

  “I need to be alone right now.”

  He sighed heavily. “So you can get even more pissed off?”

  I glared at him. “You of all people should understand the need to be alone sometimes.”

  After a moment of silence, he said, “I care about you, Joss.”

  “I care about you, too.”

  “And it’s early with us.”

  I slung my bag over my shoulder. “I know,” I said angrily. “I just need some time alone. I’ll call you later.”

  “Let me take you home. I won’t even get off the bike.”

  I exhaled deeply. “I don’t mind walking. It helps me think.”

  He threw out his arms and shook his head, frustrated. “Fine.”

  Getting on the bike in a hurry, he sped off without even putting on his helmet.

  My heart thundered in my chest as I watched him ride off. Our first official fight had sucked. And the way I was feeling right now, I wondered if our first one would also be our last.

  Chapter Twelve

  Carson

  I hadn’t talked to Joss since yesterday, and I was in some kind of mood.

  I grabbed my tools and headed down to the emergency room, where a fuse had apparently blown. A section of rooms had lost lighting, and I needed to get it fixed ASAP. Preferably without talking to anyone.

  As soon as I got down to the front desk, the woman sitting there launched into a story about the lights going out. Every word was completely unnecessary. I knew the fucking lights had gone out. I just wanted to know where the rooms were.

  “And I was like, ‘Good thing none of those patients were on life support or anything, you know’?” she said, her eyes wide.

  “All the outlets with essential equipment are on circuits backed up by a generator,” I said. “It should have just been the lights that were lost.”

  “Oh,” she said, shrugging. “Maybe it was.”

  “Which rooms?” I asked.

  She pointed to the row of rooms without lights, and I went to check them out. As expected, they all had power to the essential equipment outlets but no lights when I flipped the wall switches.

  I went to the electrical box and started working.

  The ER was swamped tonight. I heard patients walking in with complaints ranging from ear pain to a fingertip that had been accidentally sliced off. Paramedics wheeled more patients in through the ambulance entrance.

  “We’ll have to leave him here for now,” a nurse said of a man resting on a wheeled gurney, a white blanket covering his legs.

  “The hell you will!” a middle-aged woman cried. “My father needs a room now. You aren’t leaving him in a hallway.”

  “Ma’am, our rooms are full,” the nurse said. “We’ll get him into one as soon as we can.”

  Two paramedics wheeled a gurney past, a third paramedic on top of the patient, doing CPR.

  “You’ve got a room for her!” the woman yelled at the nurse. “And she came in after my father!”

  The nurse took a deep breath. “Ma’am, that is a gunshot-wound victim in critical condition. Your father will be seen as soon as possible, but his condition isn’t critical.”

  “He’s dehydrated. Hasn’t eaten or drank a thing all day. That’s dangerous for a seventy-nine-year-old man.”

  Someone yelled for the nurse from the room with the gunshot wound victim.

  “Please, just stay with your father, and we’ll be with you soon,” the nurse said, speaking over her shoulder as she walked. “I’m sorry; it’s just that we’re very busy tonight.”

  “This is bullshit,” the woman muttered.

  I worked in silence, glancing over at the man on the stretcher. He looked blissfully oblivious to the chaos around him. His hands, resting on top of the blanket, reminded me of a gnarled tree trunk, the veins prominent through his nearly translucent skin.

  “Don’t touch me, you asshole!” a woman yelled as she came into the ER entrance.

  A man followed behind her, rolling his eyes. I met his gaze for a moment and felt like a silent understanding passed between us.

  The woman looked young—maybe twenty—and had tear-streaked cheeks. She went up to the front desk.

  “Can I help you?” the front desk clerk asked.

  “Yes, I need to see a doctor.”

  “What issue are you having?”

  The woman’s cheeks darkened with embarrassment. “I’d rather not say.”

  “You’d rather . . . not say?” the desk clerk asked, brow furrowed in surprise.

  “Right. Not until I’m in the room, seeing a doctor.”

  “Well, ma’am, we need to assess how critical your condition is so we know—”

  “I don’t want to announce it to everyone.”

  “Sure,” the clerk said. “Would you be more comfortable writing it down?”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” the man said, shaking his head. “She’s got a banana in her vagina.”

  I clamped my lips shut and focused on the electrical wires in front of me.

  “You son of a bitch!” the woman yelled at the man, smacking him in the chest. “This whole thing is your fault.”

  “Um . . .” the front desk clerk said, “like an entire banana?”

  “No,” the woman said hotly. “Like the end of a peeled one. It was all fun and games until you broke it off inside me, James.”

  “Baby, I said I’m sorry.” He turned to t
he desk clerk. “I tried to get it out, but it just went farther in.”

  A group of people in the waiting room chairs were doubled over with laughter. The woman looked like she wanted to smack every last one of them.

  “Okay, I need you to fill out some paperwork,” the front desk clerk said.

  I had to give that clerk props for not reacting. A banana in the vagina couldn’t be something she saw every day.

  “What the hell is wrong with young people these days?” the woman waiting with her father said to me. “Bunch of sickos.”

  I didn’t respond. I’d finished my repair work, so I picked up my tool bag and went back to one of the rooms that was out of power.

  “Hey, what’s the holdup?” a male voice said behind me.

  I turned to see Dean. My girlfriend’s ex-husband was high on the list of people I didn’t feel like talking to right now.

  “Are you talking to me?” I asked him.

  “Yeah. We paged Maintenance half an hour ago about the lights being out. How long does it take to fix something so simple?”

  I already hated this motherfucker for what he’d done to Joss and for coming to her apartment the other day. It was all I could do to keep my cool.

  “If it was so simple, why didn’t you fix it?” I said.

  He scoffed. “My pay grade’s a little higher than that.”

  “Right. And I know you’ve got other ways to pass the time when you’re on the clock, anyway.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me and stepped closer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means everyone knows you were banging your new girlfriend on this floor when you were both supposed to be working.”

  “The same way you’re banging my ex-wife now?”

  A couple of nurses were listening to us while trying to appear to be reviewing a chart. But I didn’t care. Hell, I hoped this conversation would get around the hospital.

  “I’m not banging Joss,” I said in a level tone. “We’re together, yeah, but we don’t fuck around in patient rooms like you and what’s her name. Or do you even remember her name at this point?”

  “You’ve got a lot of nerve.”

  I dropped my tool bag and pushed up the sleeves of my work shirt, holding his gaze. “Damn right I do. The question is, do you?”

  He shook his head. “Like I’m gonna fight you right here or something?”

  “No, I don’t think you will, ’cause you know I’d kick your ass into next week.”

  “Whatever. Joss is out of her mind for being with you. She’s just desperate for validation.”

  I leaned forward and spoke in a low tone. “Stay the fuck away from her, Dean. She’s mine now. Don’t come to her apartment again.”

  He stared back at me silently.

  “The lights are fixed,” I said, picking up my tool bag. “Now get back to the work befitting a man of your pay grade. I believe you’ve got a banana to dig out of some lady’s vagina. You have fun with that.”

  I turned for the elevator and heard a female voice say, “Mic drop” behind me. It made me smile.

  Dean could kiss my ass. Joss and I had had an argument, but we’d resolve it. We were together, and we were staying that way. I wasn’t giving her up now that I knew what it felt like to be with her.

  The fact that I didn’t want kids couldn’t be that big of a deal . . . could it? She’d been shocked to find out the way she did, I knew, but it had to be something we could work through.

  There had to be a way. She was working tonight, and I hoped she’d come find me. I hated that things were bad between us. We needed to clear the air and put this behind us.

  Joss

  When I found Carson, he was walking out of the hospital cafeteria, a steaming cup of coffee in hand.

  “Hey,” I said, a little breathless from running through the OB department and down two flights of stairs to find him.

  “Hey. You okay?”

  His expression of concern made me feel like even more of a jerk about our argument.

  “Yeah. I heard you got into it with Dean down in the ER earlier, and I came to find you because I was worried.”

  “Worried?” Carson grinned and then took a sip of his coffee. “You thought Dean cleaned my clock or something?”

  “Well . . . no. I was just hoping it was nothing big. I don’t want you to get into any trouble over him.”

  He shook his head. “It was nothing big. Dean’s a pussy.”

  “What were you guys talking about?”

  “You, of course.”

  My heart raced. I was caught between feeling concerned and flattered—not to mention more than a little curious.

  “What, uh . . . what’d you guys have to say about me?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

  Carson shrugged. “I pretty much told him to fuck off because you’re with me now.”

  “I don’t know why it’s any concern of his, anyway. We’re divorced.”

  “He’s jealous, Joss.”

  “He’s just an arrogant asshole.”

  “That, too.” He took another sip of coffee. “What did you ever see in him, anyway?”

  “Whatever it was is long gone now. I’d be happy if I never saw him again.”

  “You on a break?”

  I nodded. “Thirty minutes, unless one of my patients progresses really quickly.”

  “You want to sit down and eat?”

  “Sitting would be good. I’ll get some tea.”

  The cafeteria was nearly empty. It was 2:00 a.m., so there was just one person running a cash register and several people cleaning. I got some hot tea, paid for it, and then sat down across from Carson at a table.

  “So about the other day—” I started.

  “Listen, I know that was a surprise for you. I didn’t mean for you to find out that way.”

  “Yeah.” I wrapped my fingers around my warm mug. “But I overreacted. You’re right; it is early with us. And we’re not in a serious thing, anyway.”

  Carson furrowed his brow. “It’s serious to me.”

  “I mean, it’s not a heading-for-marriage-and-kids kind of thing.”

  “I’d marry you.”

  “It’s only been a couple of months.” My cheeks were hot, and I was feeling flustered. “It’s too soon for me to be thinking about anything like that or getting upset that you don’t want it.”

  He reached across the table and took my hand. “It’s not too soon. Who wants to waste their time and get their heart crushed by someone who doesn’t want what they do?”

  I swallowed hard. “Well, what do you want, then?”

  “I want you. I want to bury all my demons and be everything you need.”

  “You’ve been what I needed since the day we met.”

  He squeezed my hand. “I don’t want to lose you over this kids thing.”

  “It’s a big thing, though, Carson.”

  “I know.”

  “You’re sure you don’t want kids? Ever?”

  He sighed heavily. “It’s not that I don’t want them; it’s that I know I’d be a shitty father.”

  “Why do you think that? You’re amazing.”

  “My dad wasn’t much of an example.”

  “You’re not him.”

  “Who am I, though?” He stared across the room at a man mopping the floor. “I’m a soldier. A killer. A loner. Those don’t sound like good qualities in a dad.”

  “You’re strong. Loyal. Brave. Good. You’re a great person, Carson. I love you, and I don’t like hearing anyone talk about the man I love like you just did.”

  His eyes got misty for a second, and then he cleared his throat. “I love you, too, Joss. And I want us to work through problems when they come up. Don’t run when things get hard.”

  “I’m sorry about that. You’re right.”

  “I want to believe I could be a good dad.”

  I wrapped my other hand around his, holding his hand in both of mine. “I believe it. And I hope you will,
too, someday. I wouldn’t want us to have kids if we weren’t both one hundred percent sure about it.”

  His warm brown eyes are filled with emotion. “No one’s ever had as much faith in me as you do.”

  “You deserve it.”

  “I missed you these past couple days.”

  “I missed you, too.”

  A man walked into the cafeteria, and Carson looked away as soon as he saw him.

  “Do you know him?” I asked in a low tone.

  “Uh . . . not really.”

  “You’ve got a weird look on your face.”

  He cleared his throat and leaned in close. “When I was down in the ER, that guy came in with a woman who had a banana in her snatch.”

  “I heard about that.”

  “Yeah? How the hell do you remove something like that?”

  “Very carefully.”

  “I hope Dean got the honors.”

  I smiled. “Oh, he did. I got a consult call up in OB. I told the nurse he should try to remove it all in one piece with forceps.”

  When Carson laughed, I felt his warm breath against my cheek. It woke up my desire for him, even in the middle of this very unsexy conversation.

  “How does that even happen?” he asked. “Why a banana?”

  “I can’t imagine.”

  “That guy’s a dumbass . . . I’ve got much better things than fruit to stick inside my woman.”

  “Your woman, huh?”

  “Yup. Why don’t I come home with you in the morning and show you?”

  “I think I’d like that,” I said, the warm swirling sensation in my belly telling me I’d be counting down the minutes until then.

  “I guarantee you will.” Carson finished his cup of coffee. “I have to get back to work.”

  “Just don’t exert yourself, okay? I want you ready for some makeup sex in a few hours.”

  He grinned at me. “I’m always ready for you, Joss.”

  Carson had driven his motorcycle to work, so when we were both off, we took it to my place. I pressed my cheek to his back, comforted by the solid feel of him.

  I still had the same butterflies for him I’d gotten that first night. The closer we got, the harder I fell for him. He was so much more than a hot man.

  We had slow, sensual sex that literally made my toes curl. I was sweaty but utterly satisfied when we feel asleep, the blackout curtains keeping the daylight away.

 

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