The traffic finally started to clear, and Eli almost hated to see it move. He needed to get home, but the last thirty minutes had almost felt like old times. As he gave Amara directions to his place, part of him didn’t want it to end.
A large part.
A car was sitting in Eli’s short driveway. He frowned as Amara pulled in next to it. Any other morning he might have been excited that his father had finally stopped by. But Marshall’s timing was terrible. He’d agreed to look at some of The Collins Research Group medical studies. Eli hoped reviewing the papers might help overcome the distance between them. Maybe then his father would see him as an equal. That would be almost as good as landing in the US News & Reports rankings.
Maybe better.
Still, it was too early to deal with his father. Amara was here. Marshall Collins could wait for a few minutes.
“Remember to pay for your parking pass, Dr. Collins.”
Amara’s grin chased away the worry pooling in Eli’s stomach. “What if I want to use the excuse of not having a pass in order to see the new nurse at Boston Gen. after our shifts at the ER?” The question left his lips, and Eli’s chest seized as he waited for her reaction.
Amara sucked in a breath, but she didn’t tell him to knock it off. That was enough for him to take a risk. Eli wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Not again.
“Want to meet Lizzy?” That was safer than asking if she might want to grab dinner or a drink.
Amara looked toward his town house before she shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” The question was out before he had time to think. He wasn’t sure he wanted whatever answer Amara was going to give.
She offered Eli a tired smile. “We...it’s been a long time...” Amara shrugged.
It had been a long time. Too long.
A sharp knock interrupted them, and Amara jumped.
Marshall Collins motioned for Amara to roll down her window. Before Eli could stop her, she did. Why hadn’t his father waited for Eli to come inside? Better yet, why hadn’t he called or texted, like he usually did?
“The Collins Research Group made some headway on the study you recommended. There are some papers I want you to look over.” Marshall looked past Amara. He hadn’t bothered to say hello to his son either, but the slight against Amara annoyed Eli more.
“Good morning, Marshall.” He’d stopped referring to his father by anything else after their argument over Eli’s refusal to go into surgery. Not that it seemed to bother Marshall. “You remember Amara Patel.”
“Good morning.” Amara yawned.
“I need you to look over this research, Eli,” Marshall repeated, handing him a stack of papers through the window and then heading toward his car.
“Still not big on small talk, huh?” Amara remarked as Marshall got into his vehicle and drove away. Gesturing to the stack of papers, Amara asked, “You help at The Collins Research Group?”
“I work for the company part-time and serve on the board.” Eli flipped through the documents.
“When do you sleep?” Amara stared at him, but the playful exchange they’d had a moment before had evaporated with Marshall’s appearance.
Eli shrugged. “I get by. Want to come inside? I have tea.”
Amara’s nose scrunched up as she stared at him. “I seem to remember you saying that tea was the worst caffeine infusion there was.” Her eyes dipped to the papers in his lap, and her small smile disappeared again.
“I don’t drink the stuff.” Eli rubbed his forehead, trying to determine how much to say. She was so close, and he didn’t want her to leave or to scare her away. “The cupboard never looked right without a can of tea next to the coffee.” So much hadn’t looked right, felt right, without the little touches Amara added to his life.
“Eli.” Amara’s fingers grazed his leg, and she bit her lip as she yanked them back. “We can’t do this.”
Heat traveled across his body where Amara’s fingers had touched him. His heart beat faster as her eyes held his.
Stay with me.
Eli kept those words buried deep inside as she leaned back. “It’s just tea.”
“Is it?” Her eyes once more darted to the stack of papers in his lap.
No!
Before he could find any words, Amara continued, “I need to get going. Get some rest, Eli.” She started the car. “See you at the hospital.”
“Thank you for the ride.” He got out and watched her drive away before heading into the house. His body was heavy with exhaustion, but the light of hope was burning in his heart. Amara was at Boston Gen.
CHAPTER THREE
AMARA’S STOMACH RUMBLED as she headed to room 4. She made sure to keep her head down as she passed Eli. During the last two shifts, she’d kept her distance. When they were working on a patient, Amara made sure to leave as soon as the job was done. No more personal conversations in the doorway after difficult cases. No time alone. She was at Boston General to work, not to reconnect with Eli.
She wasn’t the same person anymore. Inside or out. Life had scarred her in more ways than she’d thought possible as the happy nursing student who’d dated Eli.
He was a different person too. And for a moment—a long moment—she’d wanted to go into his home, meet Lizzy and enjoy that cup of tea. Find out if the connection between them had survived both time and distance. But then she’d stared at the stack of papers in Eli’s lap and pushed that desire aside.
Even if she was interested, which she wasn’t, where would she fit into his life now? Eli was working part-time for Marshall, on the board at The Collins Research Group, and maintaining a full schedule at Boston Gen. And he was raising Lizzy.
A smile touched her lips as she thought about Eli as a father. He’d be a great dad, was a great dad. Bad fathers didn’t worry about birthday cakes. Amara wasn’t sure her father could recite her date of birth without checking his calendar. Any extra time Eli managed to carve out of his intense calendar would go to Lizzy.
As it should.
The sob echoing from room 4 surprised Amara. The triage nurse had stated the patient likely needed a few stitches, but it was marked as a minor issue. As she opened the door, another racking sob traveled down the hall, and she saw Eli start toward the room.
Why couldn’t one of the other doctors have been close by?
Amara shook herself at the selfish thought. Eli was one of the finest emergency room doctors she’d worked with. If this patient was experiencing something more than what the triage nurse had identified, then he was the best one to see to it. The patient mattered more than her fragile heart.
A young woman with a bandage on her cheek was bawling on the bed. She didn’t look up as Amara and Eli stepped into the room.
Quickly washing her hands and donning gloves, Amara sat carefully on the edge of the bed. “I’m Amara. What’s your name?” she asked, her voice soft but firm.
“Han... Ha... Hannah,” she sobbed.
“I’m Dr. Collins,” Eli stated as he put on a pair of gloves. “What’s going on?”
“I cut my cheek!” Hannah cried as she stared at them.
Amara nodded and raised her hands. “Can I take a look?” Blood coated Hannah’s cheek, but the wound wasn’t bleeding through the bandage. Amara gently pulled aside the dressing, revealing a long cut from the side of Hannah’s nose to just under the edge of her right eye.
The wound was going to need several stitches, but Amara was surprised by Hannah’s reaction. Some patients didn’t handle pain well, but Amara didn’t think that was the issue. Scars were frightening, life-changing sometimes, and there would always be a hint of one on Hannah’s cheek. Taking a guess, she stated, “The scar won’t be that bad.”
“Yes, it will.” The girl’s watery stare met hers. “I tripped over the bathroom mat, hit the counter,
and now I’ll have this large ugly scar forever.” Hannah’s wail echoed in the small room. “And then Brandon will break up with me.”
Amara’s heart broke at the sad statement. She wanted to reassure Hannah that her fear was impossible. But...
“You are a lovely young woman.” Eli’s voice was calm and so sure as he tilted Hannah’s head to get a better look at the wound. “No one is going to dump you for a scar, which will soon be barely noticeable. Right, Amara?”
Her throat seized as she looked between Hannah and Eli, but she managed to nod before heading to grab the suture supplies Eli would need. That hadn’t been her own experience. But the scars on her body were much more significant than a cut across the cheek.
Joe had said her independence, her refusal to rely on him for everything—anything—had caused their breakup. But he hadn’t looked at her the same way after her surgery. Joe was never able to see past the ragged scars on her chest.
So it was a good thing she hadn’t relied on him.
She’d hoped it was just Joe. But the few men she’d dated since had ghosted her after she’d told them what she’d been through, despite telling her it wasn’t an issue.
Get it together, Amara mentally chastised herself.
She threaded the needle as Eli numbed Hannah’s cheek.
“And if someone can’t see past a scar, then that means there’s a problem with them, not you,” Eli stated. His voice was low and comforting, and Amara saw Hannah take a deep breath.
Eli was an excellent doctor, and Amara was glad that he’d been the one to follow her into Hannah’s room. Amara handed him the needle and saw him look to her.
“A problem with them,” Eli repeated, holding her gaze for just a moment.
Her breath caught, but she nodded before returning her focus to Hannah. Eli’s statement was so sure, so confident. He wouldn’t see a minor scar as an issue, but Amara’s weren’t minor...
She patted Hannah’s hand. “You are beautiful. Imperfections are what make us special.” Her tone was upbeat, peppy, but uncertainty pressed against her spine.
“Your belly is rumbling,” Hannah stated as she wiped away a tear from her uninjured cheek.
Amara winked, glad that their patient was focusing on something other than the row of stitches Eli was putting in her cheek. “Yes, well, nurses don’t always get lunch breaks.”
“Don’t you worry about Amara,” Eli told his patient as he tied a final stitch. “I’ll make sure she gets a break as soon as we’re done here.”
The small bursts of excitement popping through her body when she was near Eli shouldn’t be happening. Amara knew that, but for a moment she didn’t care. He’d been so sincere when he told Hannah her scar wouldn’t matter—and it wouldn’t. But he’d managed to take away just a bit of the pain Amara carried with her, as well. What would he think if he knew that her scars wouldn’t disappear, would always make her body look different?
Not that it mattered, because Amara wasn’t going to mention them.
She wasn’t.
* * *
Amara had avoided him over their last few shifts. Eli tried to ignore the pain that pierced him each time she averted her eyes. They were colleagues now. That knowledge did nothing to stop the ache in his heart.
“Your stomach isn’t rumbling, it’s growling. And mine is turning over on itself,” Eli said as they exited Hannah’s room. “The ER is...” Eli looked around and pursed his lips. Saying an ER was quiet was almost guaranteed to result in a wave of patients.
“You almost jinxed us.” Amara’s lips tipped up into a smile, and his heart untwisted just a bit.
“But I didn’t!” Eli nodded toward the staff lounge. “Let’s take our break. Eat when you can—right?”
Amara’s eyes shifted to the door, and he could see her hesitate.
Her belly growled again, and Amara glared at it before laughing. “Sounds like my stomach is answering in the affirmative.”
She pulled a small lunch box from her locker and sat at the small table in the corner while Eli headed for the vending machine.
He wouldn’t push, but something about Hannah’s scar had affected Amara. She hadn’t had any significant scars when he’d known her, but she had them now. He was almost certain. And someone had made her think they made her less than perfect.
“Hannah’s scar won’t be that bad,” Eli stated as he fed a dollar into the machine. “Scars fade over time.” Amara didn’t say anything, but he saw her frown as she poured some dressing on her salad.
Her eyebrows rose as he tossed a chocolate bar, bag of chips and a granola bar on the table. “That is not a meal.”
Eli shrugged. “My mother says the same thing, but it’s easy.”
Amara looked at her wilted salad and glared at it. “Mine is almost as sad, but at least there are nutrients in it.”
Her knee bumped his under the table, and he saw her bite her lip. Was being close to him making her think about them too?
“How is your mother?” Amara asked as she pulled her knees to the side.
Eli swallowed as heat ran along his neck. He was craving tiny touches, bumped shoulders, knees, any contact as long as it was from Amara. If Eli was smart, he’d avoid her. He still wanted to be the best doctor, still thought the hospital and the patients were the most important thing. But he was balancing family life now, and doing it well, in his opinion.
But could he tell Amara she came first? No, his brain counseled as his heart cried yes. Still, the thought of not spending any time with her hurt more than the moments where she pulled away.
“Mom is doing well. She loves being a grandma. Lizzy calls her Oma. I have a room set up for her at the town house where she stays when I’m on night shift. Mom started taking watercolor classes a few years ago. Her studio puts on an art show each session. I always make sure to request the night off so Lizzy and I can cheer her on.”
“You take nights off for an art show?” Amara’s eyes were wide, and she shook her head. “That is sweet. I bet your mother loves it.” Her voice died away as she pushed her salad around with her fork.
She was surprised he’d take a night off work. “Of course.” Eli kept his voice level, but defensiveness flooded him.
Letting out a deep breath, Eli pointed to a flyer on the corkboard. “Her next show is at the end of next week at the community center on Ridge Avenue. Since I’m on day shift then, I can go after work. Susan stops by sometimes. Mom loves showing off.”
“I’m on day shift next week too.” Amara dabbed her lips with a napkin. “I’d...”
The door to the lounge opened, interrupting whatever Amara planned to say. Dr. Griffin Stanfred’s eyes hovered on them for a moment. “There you two are.” Griffin called as he walked toward them.
Eli saw Amara’s shoulders tense, and she started packing up her food without looking at him. They were just eating. Why was she acting like they’d been caught doing something wrong?
“I need to get back to the nurses’ station,” Amara stated as she pushed back from the table.
“Bye, Amara,” Eli called as she headed for the door.
Griffin raised an eyebrow as he sat in Amara’s recently vacated seat. “Did you two fight?”
“Why would you say that?” Eli shook his head. Long hours in the hospital often resulted in hospital staff dating, and he’d seen a few epic arguments after bad breakups. But they’d been eating in the lounge not...
I needed a change...
Amara’s words from the other night cascaded across Eli’s memory.
Was that why she was here?
Griffin’s playful joke hadn’t meant anything, but rumors had been started on less. Eli sighed as Griffin launched into a recital of plans for Boston Gen. It was usually Eli’s favorite topic, but he couldn’t seem to focus on the conversation tonight.
* * *
Amara grinned as sunshine hit her cheeks. After a week of night shifts, she was enjoying seeing the sun instead of the moon. She’d decided to try the food truck parked outside the hospital. Anything was better than the salad she’d eaten the other night with Eli.
She was glad Griffin had interrupted them. Amara had been about to say that she’d love to see his mother’s art show. That was too close to asking Eli on a date. And she did not want to admit to herself how much she might want that.
Might...
Spending time with Eli felt good. That was a dangerous thought, but Amara couldn’t push it away. The brief snatches of time they’d had sitting in her car, talking in the hall, had sent her heart racing. It was terrifying, but Amara was finding it harder to come up with reasons to keep her distance. Or maybe she just didn’t care to look for reasons...
“The tacos are the best thing they make.” Eli stated as Amara looked up from the food truck’s menu. “Honestly, you will not be sorry if you get two of them and then come sit in the courtyard with me.”
Amara returned Eli’s smile and tried to ignore the energy that danced along her skin anytime he was nearby. After she’d fled the other night, he hadn’t pushed her for reasons why. Eli had just kept smiling and asked how she was over their next few shifts. It was such a small thing, but Amara couldn’t stop herself from looking forward to seeing him each day.
“Two tacos, please.” Amara handed over her money before looking at Eli again. “I’m trusting you.”
But only with tacos, Amara reminded herself. If she got close to him again, and it didn’t work out... Amara’s throat felt tight as fear wrapped around her. She never wanted to feel that much heartache again.
Eli placed a hand over his heart and took a playful bow. “They’re great; I promise.” Lifting the lid of his own container, he continued, “See, tacos.”
Amara laughed as she stared at the foil-wrapped food. “You realize right now they just look like tinfoil. You could have anything in there.”
Falling Again for the Single Dad Page 5
