“I’m pretty invested in getting a good reputation in town,” said Rig, “and while Naomi’s been here awhile, I’m new. I’d be delighted to provide the drinks and snacks out of my own pocket.”
Elbert beamed. “I knew there was something I liked about you, Doc.”
“Great! We’re doing the dance,” said Rig. He grinned at her conspiratorially.
Naomi smiled back as her stomach did a small flip.
Yes. They were.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Sometimes the only way through a necessary project is to treat it like a job. Show up, do the work, go home and rest. It will get done, eventually. (If it’s not necessary, though, and you’re not enjoying it, hurl it into the bin and do a little celebratory dance that you’re well shed of it.)
—E.C.
Rig and Naomi conferred with Elbert for another fifteen minutes, laying out plans. Rig kept getting distracted, however, by watching Naomi as she moved around the room. Excitement flooded her face, and he realized that this health center meant everything to her. He’d kind of guessed that already, but it was evident in her rosy red cheeks, the way she laughed out loud in delight when Elbert said that she could call the winning raffle number. She was finally getting to use the space for a real something, and Rig loved the sparkle in her eyes.
He heard the front-office bell chime and hurried through the center into the office. Naomi’s sister, Anna, entered, her blue eyes wide as she scanned the room.
“Hi,” she said.
“Is everything okay?” asked Rig. “Your sister’s in the other room.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Anna looked around and then said, “I just wanted to see her office. I’ve never been here before.”
“Good lord, girl, you’re fit to pop,” said Elbert as he and Naomi came into reception. “You sure you should be standing?”
Anna smiled. “I’m fine. I’ve still got almost a month to go.”
“You sit there,” Elbert said. He pointed to the bench seat next to the window. “Shouldn’t tire yourself.”
Some of the happiness left Naomi’s face, and concern moved in. Rig fought an irrational urge to pull her into his arms until the crease on her brow disappeared.
“Are you all right? What’s going on?” Naomi asked.
Anna frowned. “I was just bored at the house.”
Naomi started to say something, but Elbert interrupted.
“Bored! You’re bored, and you have a person in there?” He pointed to Anna’s belly. “My lord, child, you should sit around and do things with it. Play it classical music. Read it Dostoyevsky. There’s so much to do! You’re just gettin’ started!”
“Do you have kids, Elbert?” asked Rig.
“Nah, I never had any. Never settled down with one woman, though I thought about doing it a few times. One almost got me once, but I paid the fine and got away. Got nieces and nephews, though, and that’s better. Didn’t have to pay for their college, did I?”
Rig nodded. “I have a five-year-old nephew. Milo. Best little boy in the world.”
“Good age,” said Elbert. “What about you, honey? Boy or a girl?”
Elbert’s face softened when he looked at Anna. In the red, flowing blouse with the smocking around the neck and her white maternity skirt and red canvas shoes, she appeared to be glowing. She was the picture of health—an advertisement for motherhood. Naomi pulled her white coat closer around herself and clicked the pen in her pocket. Rig could almost hear her comparing herself to her sister. He wished she wouldn’t. They were apples and oranges, these women. Did Naomi know that?
“A girl,” said Anna. “A very big girl. At least I think so, anyway. I haven’t had them confirm it. I just know.”
“Well, that’s all right then, isn’t it?” Elbert grinned and Anna laughed back at him, but Rig couldn’t tear his eyes away from Naomi. Her hair, piled up like that, how did it stay? The pale rose of her cheeks against the white coat, the slenderness of her waist compared to the lush curve at her breast that even the boxy coat couldn’t hide . . .
What was with him? He felt like he was thirteen.
That was it. His hormones were driving the bus, that was all. This, too, would pass, right? It was a regular old crush. He’d had plenty of crushes in his life; they took a little while to get over, but then he’d feel fine. It would be funny to look back on it, the time that he and his partner had a brief flirtation.
Happened to everyone, right?
The thought made him feel lighter. Happy. Content to just watch her. No pressure.
Elbert clapped his hands. “Well, then!” He raised his hand. “Young lady, take care good care of yourself.”
Anna nodded. “I will.”
He let himself out, and Naomi turned back to Anna.
“Anna went job hunting again this morning,” Naomi said, not quite meeting Rig’s eyes. “How did it go?”
Anna groaned again. “Awful. It was horrible.”
Naomi frowned. “Why?”
Anna pointed at her stomach. “Because people don’t want this as a representative of their business. I was asked three times what my husband did for a living.”
Naomi displayed the surprise Rig felt. “They can’t ask that! I think there are rules against it.”
“But they did. And I don’t care—if I got a job somewhere, they’d learn the truth. I’m having a bastard. Single mom. All of that.”
Rig started poking around in Bruno’s computer, trying to figure out how to tell who was coming in this afternoon. “Do people even use that word anymore? Bastard?”
“The guy at the tire shop who was looking for a receptionist sure had the word in his mind. I could practically see it hanging there in neon.”
“Please,” said Naomi. “That’s ridiculous. You’re smart, and talented—”
“And in four weeks, if I make it that long, I’d need at least a month off. No one wants to train someone just to have them leave.” Anna looked at the blue carpet. “And who knows how long I’ll be here, anyway?”
The sentence felt weighted, leaden, and it served to drain Naomi’s face of the last remaining bit of light Rig had seen in the center.
“What if you work here?” asked Rig.
“What?” said Naomi and Anna in unison.
“Hey, we need someone. Bruno’s out on unplanned vacation, and we have patients coming in”—he glanced at his watch—“ten minutes. Three of them, if I’m reading the computer correctly. I think he overbooked by one.”
Anna sat forward, hands clasped in front of her belly. “I’d love to work here.”
Naomi shook her head. “No. Bad idea. I’m sure there are plenty of other—”
“Jobs for pregnant whales?” Anna said. “There aren’t. I hit every place that was in the paper today. They all looked at me like I was crazy.”
“She’d just be sitting here,” said Rig, “saying hello to patients when they come in. We can show her the basics, and then Bruno can clean it all up when he comes back next week.”
“And then what? You want her to work for just a week? That’s less than she could do somewhere else . . .”
“I need help with my office. Someone to help me go through the files, figure out what I should keep and what I can toss of Pederson’s. And we really need someone to work on the storage unit.”
Eagerly, Anna said, “I’ve done that kind of thing before. I assisted an archivist in Maine while I was there last summer.”
Naomi stared at Anna. “I didn’t know you were in Maine.” She paused. Looked at her feet. Rig waited, hopeful. This could be good for the two of them. He crossed his fingers to match Anna’s.
“I suppose it would be okay . . .”
“Yes!” said Rig. He held up his hand and Anna high-fived it. “You’re hired! Now come back here, and I’ll show you how to answer the phones and transfer them if the calls need to come to us. I know how to do that much. I’m not sure how the intercom system works, because Bruno always initiates it, but N
aomi can show us both.”
Rig wasn’t sure who looked more nervous, Anna or Naomi, but it was going to be okay. It’d be great. They’d see.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Believe in your fingers, in your nimbleness, in your willingness to invent.
—E.C.
Anna did well, surprising Naomi with her creativity when it came to figuring out Bruno’s systems. Four hours later, by the end of the afternoon, she was actually filing. Naomi hadn’t wanted her to, at first, sure her sister was putting the files in the wrong places, and that they’d never see the paperwork again. But when she watched over Anna’s shoulder, she was getting all of it just right.
She was proud of her sister. Another good call on Rig’s part.
Rig.
Every time they’d passed each other in the narrow hall, he’d caught her eye and smiled. He held her gaze for a second too long each time, just long enough to make her feel breathless, then he’d walk past, opening the door to his next patient, greeting them with warmth and enthusiasm.
He was professional. He was good at his job, as good as she hoped she was.
And he was distracting the hell out of her.
And now it was almost closing time. She had no more appointments, and at this point, she didn’t think they’d get any more walk-ins.
She heard voices from the front, and pushed open the door to find Rig’s brother, Jake Keller, leaning on the counter, laughing down at Anna. He was in full fire-service uniform, all dark blue with white buttons, his boots as shiny as his badge.
He straightened when he saw her. “Hey, Naomi. I was just telling Anna here how sorry I was about barging in to use your bathroom a while back. Between my dad and Milo, we have to stop every fifteen minutes, I swear. Just stopping by to see my brother now. How’s he fitting in around here?”
“Patients seem to like him.”
“They just think he’s good looking. Runs in the family, you know. Not always that much going on upstairs, though.” Jake grinned.
“They’re probably thinking about downstairs anyway,” Naomi said without thinking.
Jake snorted and Anna giggled while Naomi felt her cheeks burst into flame.
“I mean, you know, those jeans and all. I don’t mean I’m noticing. Or if I was, it would be purely on the professional . . . shit.” She wasn’t going to be able to recover—she was only making it worse. “I’ll go get him for you.”
“I already paged him.” Anna tapped the intercom with authority, as if she’d been using it for years.
“Speak of the devil,” said Jake on a laugh.
As he entered the room, Rig’s eyes met Naomi’s again for a split second, and a look that felt like a shiver passed between them. She crossed her arms over her breasts as her nipples tightened. How did he do that?
“Hey, Jake. What’s so funny?”
“Just your pants, man.”
Rig took it easily, saying only, “Doesn’t mean much from a man dressed in wool.”
Naomi tried to lean on the counter casually, like Jake was doing, and almost lost her balance, ending up wheeling her arms and whacking her wrist on the wood.
“Naomi!” said her sister. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” she said. “Of course I’m fine. Are there any more patients today, Anna?”
“Nope. You’re done, and it looks like Rig is done with his last, right?”
“Mr. Swenson is buttoning himself up as we speak.”
Jake nodded. “Mr. Swenson. We’ve responded to his house a couple of times.” He gave his brother a look. “Is it for—?”
Rig pursed his mouth and didn’t say anything.
“Ahhh. It is. He’s a strange duck, isn’t he?”
Laughing, Rig loosened his tie, working it back and forth. “God, I hate these things.” He stripped it off, undoing his top shirt button. “Better,” he said.
It was better. He looked more relaxed already. Actually, he’d just gone from looking like a cowboy at a wedding to someone about to rope a steer. Naomi wished she had an equivalent piece of clothing to loosen, one that would be like letting her hair down.
Well. She guessed she could just let her hair down.
Naomi tugged at the three bobby pins that had been holding her curls into a loose bun at the back of her neck, and then slipped the pins in her white coat pocket. She felt her hair tumble to her shoulders, and she tousled it with one hand, hoping it didn’t look ridiculous after being up all day. Anna and Jake talked about the merits of a hamburger joint just up the coast. Jake said something about a case of shigella that had recently cropped up at a taco stand, and that no restaurant could be trusted. Anna said, “Where’s your sense of adventure? You must have plenty of it inside that uniform somewhere.”
“Adventure’s overrated. I like safe,” said Jake.
Naomi glanced at Rig.
Oh, he’d noticed her hair all right. He had both his hands in his pockets, and he leaned against the entryway wall, right next to the tasteful lamp she’d installed when she’d come to the practice. It cast a light glow in the room, very feng shui. But Rig didn’t look subtle or tasteful or any other adjective that might describe a soothing reception area.
Rig burned. His eyes smoldered. Naomi swore she could feel his heat from six feet away. His body radiated a fine, hot control and his eyes raked her body, starting at her hair and going all the way down, pausing at her breasts and then again at her waist, and then back up. She sent the look back; she knew she did. Even though she didn’t want to. She shouldn’t, God knew she shouldn’t.
Naomi couldn’t breathe. Again. He was becoming hazardous to her health. At this rate, she’d need an albuterol inhaler by nightfall.
Anna laughed and Jake said something back to her. They both sounded as if their voices were underwater—her ears listened only for Rig.
For fuck’s sake, she had to get over this. Get her life back. She couldn’t work in a place that she feared would burn down just by the way they were looking at each other.
A thought crossed her mind as she dimly heard Jake bring up garlic fries.
What if she just slept with Rig again?
The idea shocked and soothed her at the same time. Rig was her coworker. Her new, ridiculously steamy coworker, but still her business associate. Naomi had always been very clear about keeping her personal life very separate from her work life.
But her work life was her personal life now. There wasn’t any real separation, so really, what could it hurt? They’d done it once before, and it had been . . . great. Yes, she could admit to herself it was the hottest sex since—well, maybe since ever. Unless she was remembering that night wrong, which she might be. And given the frequency with which she got laid, she really might be getting the facts mixed up.
Her last boyfriend was what, four years ago now? Franco had been a manager at the Italian restaurant she frequented, and the reason he’d become her boyfriend was because he didn’t really care if she talked or not. They made love, ate, and slept. Lather, rinse, repeat. She’d been fond of him, but she wasn’t in love with him, and the worst part of their breakup had been no more free puttanesca. As it were.
Rig contributed something to Jack and Anna’s discussion and laughed. How was he keeping up with both conversations? He turned his eyes back on Naomi and her core overheated. She was going to be sending up smoke signals if this kept up.
One thing had always been sure, no matter how long the dry spells between taking men into her bed: she’d known what she was doing. Like all things, sex was better after she’d studied it. After an uncomfortable, unsatisfying experience at eighteen with a boy who was as inexperienced as she was, she’d taken out books from the college’s library and deconstructed various sexual positions, reading about which was better for whom, and why. She’d rented porn movies and watched them, blushing the whole time, in order to learn what sounds women made and how men moved—she kept in mind that they were actors in a multibillion-dollar enterprise, and she
never expected the pizza guy to deliver anything but pepperoni—but the movies still had things to teach her.
Sex was just bodies in motion, and Naomi understood how bodies worked. No big deal. Treating a patient, learning to achieve an orgasm: both were just getting parts to work right. So why wouldn’t she be able to manage a second one-night stand with Rig if it meant she’d be able to file it safely away afterward under “Completed”?
Naomi studied Rig. Thank goodness he was looking at his brother and she got a few seconds to drag her gaze all over him.
Her eyes moved to the front of his jeans and she flushed with heat again. He was a big guy, she probably remembered that much correctly from their one night together. Mmmm.
Then Rig caught her. He caught her gaze red-handed as it traveled upward again, and his amused expression told her he knew exactly where she’d just been staring. Crap. She couldn’t even take a deep breath to steady herself or he’d notice.
“You going with them, Naomi?” Rig asked.
“I’m sorry?”
“The Smokehouse,” said Jake. “Your sister has convinced me to try a burger that may or may not end up being heated to a safe temperature. I do have life insurance, after all. Rig can take Milo if I die.” He shot a pointed look at Anna, who laughed, a pretty pink color high on her cheeks. “I can’t go to the one on the coast, since I’m on duty—have to stay near the firehouse. But the other one, on Fourth Street, we could all go there. They have thirty different flavors of milk shakes, I do know that.”
Naomi said, “No, thanks. Not hungry.” She was too wound up from thinking about Rig to think about food.
“Butterscotch,” said Anna with a grin. “I’ve always loved a butterscotch milk shake.”
He nodded. “They’re hard to find. I happen to know the Smokehouse has great butterscotch shakes.”
“Oooh,” Anna purred.
Were they flirting? Naomi had been so firmly entrenched in her own plans that she’d failed to notice that Jake and Anna were grinning widely at each other. It looked like Jake was over Anna asking where Milo’s mom was.
“What time do you get off?” Jake asked Anna.
Wishes and Stitches Page 17
