“I won’t be. Mattie promised to oversee the painters while I catch up on paperwork at the preschool. The dining room and living room sets will be delivered in two weeks, so I invited everyone to dinner three weeks from Friday.”
“Wow. So soon?”
“Of course.” She jabbed her thumb into her chest, enthusiasm lighting her eyes. “This woman doesn’t mess around.”
“Not even if you really like a guy?” He chuckled.
His teasing extinguished the animation on her face like a candlesnuffer smothering a flame.
“David, we need to talk.”
Uh-oh. The words we need to talk were never a prelude to anything good.
“Considering what happened between us on Father’s Day and tonight, I’m going to ask Andy to be my childbirth coach.”
“What?” Profound disappointment swamped him. He didn’t want to miss his child’s birth. “No.” He shook his head.
“Yes,” she insisted. “We can’t share that kind of physical intimacy without it leading to something more.”
She had that straight. But kicking him out of the delivery room wasn’t the answer.
Here he’d been thinking what a pushover Casey was. She might not ask for much, but when she did—BAM! She knew how to collect.
“You know how important it is to me to see my kid born. How can you ask me—”
“You can still be there.” She laid her hand over his on the table and stared into his eyes. “Just not as my coach.”
The air he’d trapped in his lungs whooshed out of him. “Oh. Okay. That’ll be all right.”
It was probably best if Andy attended the classes with her. If he had to spend another evening with Casey wiggling against his groin and his nose buried in her floral-scented hair, he’d go bonkers.
The waitress set the huge sundae down in the center of the table and refilled their water glasses before leaving.
He shoveled a big spoonful of the gooey fudge, ice cream, and brownie into his mouth and rolled the frigid lump over his tongue, savoring the sweet flavor of maple and chocolate.
“Ummm, it doesn’t get better than this,” Casey mumbled past a mouthful. “Anyway, in addition to that, I’ve also decided to move back to Mattie’s house after the dinner party.”
“How—” The brownie caught halfway down his throat. “How can you do that?”—cough—“ And why the hell would you”—cough—“want to?” He gasped for air in between throat-clearing gulps of water.
“Hmmm....now let me think about that one.” She turned her gaze upward for a moment as if the answer were scrawled across the ceiling. “Could it be because I don’t like everyone thinking I’m sleeping with you? You heard what the nurses were saying.”
He wheezed, finally catching his breath. “You’re gonna let a bunch of filthy-minded gossips dictate where you live?”
“That’s not the only reason. Mattie told me her finances are so tight, she’s plans on finding a couple of boarders. You know how lonely she is, so when I mentioned what’s been going on with you and me, she asked me and the baby to come live with her—in the main house, not in the efficiency apartment. She wants to decorate one of her spare rooms as a nursery.”
“Wait a minute.” He held up one hand and peered over the ice cream mountain between them. “You told Mrs. Berger you and I almost—”
“I had to talk to someone, David.” She buried her spoon in the whipped cream. “Whenever I try to discuss how I feel with you, you minimize everything.”
“Maybe that’s because things aren’t as serious as you imagine.”
“Oh, really? So you don’t think jeopardizing your chance at making chief, alienating your parents, and giving the busybodies at the hospital something to gossip about are serious issues?”
Not as serious as losing the chance to live with his child.
“Don’t you see? This way I’ll be right next door to the school, and Mattie will help take care of the baby. The extra income will help her, and she won’t be alone. It’s a perfect set up.”
“Perfect for the two of you.” He stabbed his spoon into the sundae. “We agreed to wait until after the baby’s born to decide on any permanent living arrangements.”
She leaned forward and lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “Look, I know you have physical needs that aren’t being met at the moment. I just don’t want something to happen that we’ll both regret.”
This was all because he hadn’t been able to control himself. “Look, I’m sorry I lost it the other night. I won’t let it happen again. Can’t you wait and see how things go between now and the dinner party? Let me prove to you I can make this work.”
“I dunno.” She twisted her mouth. “Mattie’s counting on the extra money.”
“I’ll pay her some rent while you stay at my house. Just think about it.”
She held her hands up in surrender. “All right, already. I’ll consider it.”
A long breath of relief hissed out of him. He had only sixteen days to prove he could keep his paws to himself while sharing a roof with her.
Right, the cynical voice in his head taunted while Casey moaned her enjoyment of the sinful dessert. The jackpot question was—could he?
He shoveled another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, ignoring his alter ego’s pessimism. It should be a piece of cake.
Staring at her soft pout, he swallowed hard. The pink tip of her tongue peeked between her lips to lick a dab of chocolate from them.
No problem at all. Just as long as he never went home.
~*~
The sun streamed through the hospital’s window on Friday morning and warmed Brianna’s face until her cheeks felt as hot as they had the evening before. She still couldn’t believe she’d made a pass at her doctor. The most horrendous part was, after he’d pulled away, she’d felt ten times more frustrated than mortified.
She couldn’t believe how kind and understanding he’d been. Everything she’d overheard the nurses say about him indicated he was the kind of doctor who went above and beyond for his patients. Maybe she’d misjudged him. Even if she had, the last thing she should be hoping was that he felt something more for her than the other women he treated. Perhaps the threat of death had made her yearn for the physical connection—sort of a desperate attempt to grab one last moment of pleasure from life.
Whatever the case, she wanted Marc Huntley more than she ever remembered wanting a man—including her ex-husband. And worse, she hadn’t thought about David once since kissing Marc. In fact, during the night, she’d had several erotic dreams starring Dr. Hunky in the buff.
“How’re you feeling this morning?” The handsome devil himself wandered into her room. He looked incredible in jeans and a black polo that delineated every muscle. Although, not nearly as sexy as he’d looked naked. The man was a walking, breathing orgasm waiting to happen. And as much as it shamed her to admit it, she wanted to have one with him. In person—not in a dream.
“Uhhh....I’m okay?” Her cheeks flamed hotter.
“You don’t sound so sure.” Marc’s eyebrows knitted as he studied her face. “What’s wrong? You’re all flushed. Are you upset about something?”
“Umm, I think my brain must still be really swollen. I can’t stop thinking about....” Her face felt as if it would spontaneously combust.
“What?”
“Sex,” she whispered. “All night I kept dreaming about doing—” She slapped her hand over her mouth. She needed a muzzle.
Now it was his turn to get red in the face. “Uhh, it’s not unheard of for the libido to be affected after an insult to the brain. Please don’t be embarrassed. You need to talk about whatever’s bothering you.”
“Even if it’s you?”
“Me?” He jabbed his thumb into his broad chest. “How on earth am I bother—”
“No. I meant what if it’s you I’m thinking about going to bed with? You still want me to talk to you about it?”
He stared at her for sev
eral seconds, his throat muscles visibly convulsing as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t. Desire flared in his gaze like a spark catching dry tinder.
Finally, a full half minute later, he cleared his throat and rasped, “After what happened between us, that’s probably not such a hot idea. I’ll have our neuropsychologist come by today. Maybe you can work out some of your issues with her.”
“You want me to tell her I kissed you, and now I can’t stop thinking about, uhh....getting friendly with you?”
“Naturally, I’d prefer you don’t tell her what I did. But if you need to discuss it, I’ll understand.”
“You didn’t do anything. It was all me.”
“That’s debatable. In any event, I should’ve stopped you sooner. All day I’ve been arguing with myself about whether I should hand your case off to one of my colleagues. What you just told me proves I need to follow through.”
“No!” She scooted up in the bed and winced from the pain in her head. “I don’t want a different doctor, damn it. I promised you I’d keep my hands to myself.”
“I believe you. But it wouldn’t be ethical for me to continue treating you.”
“Why? What’s so unethical about me having the hots for you? I thought it was normal for patients to fall in love with their doctors after they’ve been snatched from the jaws of death.”
“It is. What’s not normal is for a doctor to let himself get involved with his patient.”
“But you didn’t.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He cupped her cheek in his palm. “Last night, I didn’t want to stop.”
An electric thrill shot through her.
“If there’s ever a next time,”—Marc shrugged in a helpless gesture—“ I don’t think I’ll be able to pull myself away.”
And if she wanted him as much as she did right now, she wouldn’t let him.
~*~
A sharp rap on David’s open door broke his concentration late Friday evening. Paul wandered into David’s office and flopped into the armchair beside his desk. “How’re things going?”
“Depends on which thing you’re referring to.” David finished typing a referral order for an MRI into the patient’s electronic chart. “You have to be more specific.”
“How the hell many things have you got going on?”
“Well, let’s see.” David studied the acoustic tile ceiling. “There’s the nasty rumors flying around the hospital thing. The parents who resent the mother of my baby thing. And we can’t forget the ex-sister-in-law who wants to move out and take my kid with her thing.”
He wouldn’t even mention the incessant throbbing in his jeans thing.
“Oh.” Paul chuckled. “I was just talking about life, love, and the pursuit of happiness thing.” He peered at the X-ray film clipped to the light box. “There’s a void in the spinal canal at the L-three.”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention the toddler who might have a tumor on his spinal cord thing.”
“Well, if he does, I recommend Marc Huntley at the Mayo Clinic.”
“That’s an awfully long way to send the kid for treatment. What’s wrong with someone at John Hopkins?”
“I went to med school with Marc. He’s become one of the best neurosurgeons in the country. If anyone can remove the tumor without paralyzing the kid, Marc can.”
David leaned back in his chair and propped one foot on the edge of the massive cherry desk. “Sometimes I hate my job.”
“I hear you. This afternoon I had the privilege of telling an unmarried twenty-three-year-old she’s never going to have children.”
David closed his eyes and shook his head. “Why the hell do we do this?”
“You got me. When you figure it out, let me know.”
“I’m serious. Why’d you go to med school?”
His friend chuckled. “Would you believe I wanted to make a living looking at naked women?”
“Yeah, that sounds about right for you.”
“Unfortunately,”—Paul shrugged—“that lost its appeal after examining the first fifty patients and listening to their sexual and PMS problems. Sometimes I get so tempted to call their husbands and tell them what selfish SOBs they are. Then I look in the mirror and remember I used to be a man, too.”
“Used to be?” David laughed and spun his pen between his fingers like a baton.
Paul spread his hands helplessly. “I spend most of my days with the opposite sex, and yet, it’s been so long since I was actually with a woman, I’m not sure I remember how to be a guy anymore.”
“You sound as if you’re ready to settle down and get married.”
“Past ready.” Paul muttered. “Problem is, medical ethics keep me from pursuing most of the females I see each day.” He tipped his head and studied David. “So that’s my story. You’ve got a great woman at home to keep you company. What’re you still doing here?”
Good question. David plowed his fingers through his hair. “Trying to forget about that woman.” He stared down at his desk blotter and confessed, “I kissed her the other night.”
“Yeah, so?”
“I don’t mean just a little peck on the cheek. It was really....uhhh—”
“Hot?” Paul provided for him.
“No. Hot doesn’t even begin to describe it.” Blistering, sizzling, or scorching maybe, but nothing as commonplace as hot.
He explained Casey’s distress over his mother’s accusations and the hospital staff’s speculation. “I swear, Paul, I never even thought about touching Brianna’s sister before this.”
Although, ever since Casey admitted she’d once been attracted to him, he’d fantasized night and day about making love to her.
“Maybe not seriously.”
David lurched back in his seat. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“Only that you’re carrying a Y chromosome, and there isn’t a heterosexual man alive who doesn’t wonder what it would be like to poke every hottie he meets. Hell, I admit it. I thought about doing Casey at your wedding.”
David glared at his friend. Okay, so maybe the day he gave her class the tour of the hospital he’d wondered if she’d be as entertaining in the sack. And, yeah, he’d checked out her ass and chest a few times. All right, ten, maybe twelve times.
“I’ve seen the two of you in action.” Paul snorted. “Or rather, should I say heard. Your banter has more sexual tension than Richard Gere and Julia Roberts ever had. That day you came into my office arguing about fertilizer, of all things, I thought your nooky-meter was gonna go tilt.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You kept stroking Brianna’s back and, with every comeback Casey fired at you, you rubbed faster. Face it, pal, bickering with your sister-in-law gets you horny.”
Heat crept up David’s neck as he remembered how randy he’d been that night with Brianna.
His exasperation had probably just elevated his testosterone level. Surely his ardor had more to do with passion being akin to rage than him having any romantic feelings for Casey. “So the argument supercharged my libido. Big deal. There wasn’t anything—”
“I’m not suggesting you ever had a conscious hankering or that you would’ve acted on it. I just think you might’ve harbored some dormant feelings for her.”
“You’re saying I married the wrong sister?”
Paul stuck his lip out and flipped his hand out in a you-tell-me gesture. “Maybe. My point is, you should recognize your scrimmages for what they might’ve been—a suitable outlet for an inappropriate sexual attraction.”
David’s stomach clenched. Maybe Paul was right. Why else would he get interested in his ex-wife’s sister so fast?
“You’re a free man, and she’s an adult.” Paul reached over and slapped his shoulder. “Cut yourself some slack. Go for it.”
“She’s also my ex-sister-in-law. We’ve got the whole world watching and waiting to condemn us for something we never did.”
“Forget
the world. For the first time in your life, do what makes you happy.”
“What do you mean for the first time in my life?”
Cocking one dark eyebrow at him, Paul sputtered, “Get real, Dave. Name one major choice you’ve ever made purely for yourself.” He waved toward him. “For instance, why’d you become a doctor?”
“So I could help people.”
“No, I’m not asking for the med school review board version. Why’d you personally feel the need to help?”
David simply stared at his friend in silence.
Paul rose and took a step toward the door. “You don’t need to answer. But it might do you a world of good to admit a few things to yourself.”
Several seconds after Paul left, David’s cell phone sounded. He glanced at the display and frowned. Archer McIntyre? David released a breath of resignation. Brianna must have finally told her dad about the divorce.
He flipped the phone open and smiled, hoping to inject a cheerful note into his voice. “Hey, Archer, how are you and Liz doing? Enjoying your new home?”
“We were great until I got a phone call from Brianna. What the hell happened? I just talked to both of my girls. Now I want to hear your side.”
Raking his fingers through his hair, David leaned back in his desk chair. “I don’t have a side other than I must’ve failed Brianna in some way. But don’t ask me how.”
He still hadn’t figured it out.
“I don’t understand. I know outsiders can’t tell what really goes on in a marriage, but Brianna seemed so happy in December. You’ve given her everything.”
Damn straight. And he would’ve given her a lot more if she would’ve let him. “What’d she tell you?”
“Not much. Just that she realized she’d made a mistake marrying you. Casey told me that every chance she gets she’s trying to convince her sister to come home.”
“For months now.” A lot of good it did.
“You do want Brianna back, right?” Archer asked.
“Of course! I loved—uh—love her,” David corrected, ignoring the voice in his head whispering, If that’s the case, how can you even think about touching your ex-wife’s sister?
“Good. I’m sure she’ll eventually come to her senses.”
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