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Navy Doc on Her Christmas List

Page 6

by Amy Ruttan


  And even though he knew that he shouldn’t, he followed her now.

  Zac found her in the staffroom. She was standing at the large window, her back to the door, her head turning only slightly when he shut the door behind him.

  The tension was almost palpable.

  “How did the surgery go?” he asked.

  “Textbook. The patient is in Recovery. She’ll be on antibiotics for several days. Not the best Christmas present.”

  “No, but at least she’s alive.”

  Every life mattered. And he tried not to let his mind wander back to all the lives that had been lost. He closed his eyes and tried to drown out the sounds of wounded navy men and women crying out for their loved ones, their families who were thousands of miles away.

  “She’s alive,” he whispered again, shaking those thoughts away.

  Ella nodded and turned to look back out the window.

  “Is there something you want to say to me?” Zac asked.

  She spun around then. “Excuse me?”

  “An apology for doubting me.”

  “No, I’m not apologizing for that, but you should apologize to me!”

  He was taken aback by that. “For?”

  “For humiliating me in front of my interns and residents. When Charles or Elijah aren’t here, I’m in charge. Davenport or not. I’m in charge. I’ve worked too hard to repair the damage an act of dismissal caused to my self-esteem for you to come waltzing back in and destroy it all over again.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  ELLA’S PULSE WAS pounding in her ears. She really couldn’t believe that she’d blurted it out, but she was sleep deprived, edgy and completely emotional.

  Zac had humiliated her. Twice now in her life.

  And on Christmas Eve.

  She didn’t really want to lash out at him, not when he seemed to be suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, but there was only so much a person could take.

  “What’re you talking about? What do you mean, again?”

  And then she balked. Was he really that self-centered?

  Are you shocked?

  “You don’t really remember, then, do you?”

  “Remember what?” he asked in exasperation.

  “Your conversation with... I don’t even remember who now, but I remember what you said.”

  “You need to help me here, Ella. I haven’t seen you since that Christmas Eve party right before I went to...” Then he trailed off, his eyes widening. She knew then that he remembered it. “Oh, God.”

  She fought tears that were threatening to spill. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her tears, but it gave her some satisfaction that he remembered exactly what had happened. It had been trivial enough for him to push it from his mind, but those words had hurt her.

  Deeply.

  They also had been words that had made her stronger. Made her fight harder to get where she was today.

  “Right,” she said, and then cleared her throat. “I’ve worked really hard here at Manhattan Mercy. I know you’re a Davenport...”

  Zac crossed the room and gripped her by the shoulders. “I’m sorry, Ella. For those things I said. I didn’t mean them. Those idiots... You know I never wanted to get married and they wouldn’t leave me alone.”

  She opened her mouth to say something, but he just shook his head to silence her.

  “I know that’s no excuse for what I said. I’m sorry that you had to hear that. And I’m sorry for getting testy before the ERCP procedure. I am finding my ground here. Just because I’m a Davenport it doesn’t mean that I have an easy ride here. I’ve been away. I have to prove myself too and I overstepped my bounds.” He let go of her then, but still stood close to her in the dim light of the staffroom.

  Her heart was hammering. His nearness and the rush of emotions flowing through her caught her off guard.

  Ella was in shock. She hadn’t expected an apology. She had expected him to make excuses, but he’d apologized for the excuses. He had apologized for it all, but still something inside her couldn’t trust him, because she didn’t buy that he was just finding his ground here.

  There was more and he was hiding it from her. And she couldn’t trust him. Not after the way he’d hurt her. She had trusted him back then too, but look how that had turned out. She didn’t want to be made a fool of again. His performance was not her concern.

  She was trying to believe him. To see the good.

  He was cleared for work with what appeared to be post-traumatic stress disorder. That’s all that mattered and she couldn’t emotionally invest in him. Not again.

  Still, he was apologizing to her.

  And that was something she hadn’t expected from him.

  Maybe Zac had changed?

  “Ella,” he whispered. “Please trust me when I say I didn’t mean what I said to those idiots.”

  “Fine.” And she gave him her best fake smile. The one she was so good at putting on. One she was used to doing when she was around her family and their friends.

  “Smile or you’ll never get a husband,” her mother had said to her over and over again.

  “You’re not fine,” Zac said. “I know that smile.”

  She frowned. “And you’re fine, aren’t you? Do you want to talk about your post-traumatic disorder attack when the power went out? You say you were cleared, but if things like that set you off...”

  Zac shrugged. “What’s there to explain? I was cleared. There’s nothing more to discuss.”

  Oh, he was good.

  He had the ability to twist words around. Such a smooth operator.

  Ella threw up her hands. She was tired of arguing with him about this. “Okay, a panic attack. You’re right. I have to let it go.”

  “Thanks.”

  She shrugged. “Sure.”

  “I’m going to get some lunch. It’s one. I heard that the cafeteria is still running to feed all of us who are stuck. Want to grab some lunch?”

  She should say no. She wanted to stay away from him. Zac was infuriating. One minute she was feeling things for him and things she had thought were long since buried, and then the next moment she was ready to wring his neck.

  Of course, it had always been like this between them.

  Especially in their preteens. She’d just forgotten.

  And she was done arguing. Let Charles deal with whatever it was Zac was hiding. She was done meddling with Zac beyond working together.

  He’d apologized. She’d finally got what she’d wanted.

  No, you didn’t.

  Ella shook that thought from her head. “Sure.”

  They left the staffroom together in complete silence.

  “You know I taught you that fake smile, don’t you?” Zac said out of the blue.

  “Uh, no, you didn’t. I taught you.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What’re you talking about?”

  “You’re the only one of your siblings who can pull off that smile and that’s thanks to me. I’ve worked with Charles long enough to know he can’t do it. He tries, but it just looks ridiculous.” Then she mimicked Charles and they both broke out in laughter.

  It was a lot funnier than it should be, but she always got a bit giddy when she was tired.

  “So what about my other siblings?” Zac asked when they finally stopped laughing.

  “I don’t know,” Ella admitted. “I haven’t spent much time with your brothers. I know Miranda can’t, but I’ve never really seen her try. We’re not usually on the same shift anyway. Besides, she’s been a bit busy lately, hasn’t she?”

  “Yeah, I don’t even want to talk about my siblings’ romantic lives, thank you very much,” Zac said. He opened the door of the cafeteria, which was fair
ly busy, but with staff stuck and no relief in sight and most of the hospital shut down except for essential departments, there really weren’t many places to go.

  Ella’s stomach growled. She was starving. “Oh, they have a traditional turkey dinner on special right now.”

  Zac’s brow furrowed. “I haven’t really tested this cafeteria’s food in a long time. I remember not being all that pleased when I was a kid.”

  “It’s changed since then.” She picked up a tray and moved down the line. “I’d like a turkey special, please.”

  The cafeteria worker nodded and prepared a plate with a piece of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, sprouts, bun and cranberry sauce.

  “What, no gravy?” Zac asked.

  The cafeteria worker shot him a look and Ella chuckled as she thanked the server and continued down the line to grab a slice of fruit cake and a bottle of water.

  The cafeteria was not charging today, by Dr. Davenport’s orders. A Christmas treat for all those who were stranded by the storm.

  She found a table off to the side in a quiet part of the cafeteria. Usually it was louder in here when the hospital was at full tilt. Still, she wanted quiet. Working in the emergency room and on trauma was loud and intense at the best of times, so when she had a moment to herself, she liked to calm her sensory overload in a peaceful corner.

  Zac slid into the seat across from her, setting down his turkey dinner and looking at it dubiously. He had opted for an energy drink and pudding instead of fruit cake.

  “It’s good,” Ella said, and she took a bite of her turkey. “It’s really good.”

  “There’s Brussels sprouts.” He made a face.

  “What’s wrong with them? They’re good with butter and salt.”

  “When I was a kid my dog wouldn’t even eat these.”

  Ella chuckled. “I thought you guys in the armed forces ate whatever was set in front of you.”

  “Yeah, but they never served sprouts in the officers’ mess hall.”

  She smiled and popped a sprout into her mouth. “Mmm, so good.”

  He wrinkled his nose and then saw the fruit cake. “Ugh, I forgot what a weirdo you are.”

  “What?”

  “You eat fruit cake! Who eats fruit cake?” Zac shook his head.

  “I do. I’ve always eaten it.”

  “I know, hence the ‘I forgot what a weirdo you are’.”

  “What’s wrong with fruit cake?” she asked. “I never did ask about your aversion to it. And I suppose they didn’t serve this in the officers’ mess either.”

  Zac chuckled as he cut up his turkey. “Yeah, I think I saw an obligatory one floating around at Christmas a few times. Usually, it was soaked in rum, though.”

  “I do like rum-soaked ones. Once, to get away from my mother’s Christmas, I escaped with some girlfriends to Jamaica and had some rum cake down there. So good with the dark rum in it.”

  “I still didn’t touch the cake. The rum, on the other hand...” he teased, winking.

  “Why do you hate fruit cake? It’s traditional.”

  “It has hard hunks of fruit. Mystery fruit,” he whispered, making a face. “It’s weird.”

  “It’s not mystery fruit. It’s dried and candied fruit like cherries, pineapple...”

  “Okay, but what’s the green one? Plus, I hate nuts in anything baked.”

  Ella wrinkled her nose. “I forgot what a picky eater you are.”

  “Yeah, well, family dinners were always a wee bit tense around my house in my later years. It didn’t give me much of an appetite.” He was frowning as he said that and she understood. There had been a lot of tension at the Davenport house when that scandal had broken out and Miranda had been brought into the fold.

  When they’d been younger, though, they’d always had each other. Even if she’d been decked out in some ugly frock or jumper her mother had felt it was appropriate she wore, Zac had always been there.

  He’d been her prince in shining armor. Until he hadn’t been any more.

  Suddenly the turkey dinner tasted like sawdust in her mouth.

  “So what is the green fruit?” Zac asked, breaking the uneasy silence between them.

  Ella frowned. “You know, I don’t actually know.”

  “I mean what kind of fruit is actually that green?”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. It was so easy to laugh with him. She’d forgotten that. There was a lot of things she’d forgotten about. Feelings she’d thought were long gone, but were obviously just buried, because they were bubbling to the surface.

  “I have the worst feeling I’m not going to get into medical school and then I’ll just be this huge disappointment to my parents. Well, not to my mother, who will continue to pamper me like some kind of demented poodle.”

  “Hey, you’ve got this,” Zac said as he pulled her into an embrace, calming her down from her rant. “I’ll be here for you.”

  “No, you won’t, you’ll be at Annapolis,” she mumbled.

  He tipped her chin to look down at her, those brilliant blue eyes and boyish good looks transfixing her like they always did. “Ella, I’m always here for you.”

  And before she knew what was happening he was leaning down and kissing her.

  Something she’d fantasized about for so long, but had never thought would happen. And she melted into his kiss.

  A kiss she didn’t want to end.

  “I’m sorry, Ella. I don’t know what came over me.” He was confused, but she could see a yearning in his eyes. She knew what it was because she felt that way too. About him.

  It thrilled her, but she didn’t want to get her hopes up.

  She shook her head. “Don’t be sorry. It doesn’t have to mean anything more than that, though I would like it if you kissed me again.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded and felt a flush of warmth run through her.

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Hey, Ella are you okay?” Zac was waving a hand in front of her face.

  “What?” she asked, rocked from the memory, which was affecting her now, because her palms were sweaty and her body was very aware that the man who had elicited those feelings in her years ago was sitting across from her.

  “You zoned out,” he said.

  “Tired.” She cleared her throat and then picked up her tray. “I should get back down to the emergency room.”

  Zac nodded and picked up his own tray. They cleared them and threw out their trash. The easy teasing that had gone on before she’d drifted into that memory was gone. He was so charming, he got under her skin so quickly. She had to be careful around him.

  Or she was liable to get hurt again.

  And that was something she couldn’t and wouldn’t let happen.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ZAC HAD WORKED ON the opposite side of the emergency room from Ella since they’d returned from lunch. Something had changed up there. And he didn’t know what. She was uneasy around him again, almost like she didn’t want to let her guard down around him.

  Though he didn’t blame her.

  When he’d realized that she’d heard those awful things he’d said about her, it had made him feel ashamed. He had just been trying to stop a couple of idiots from pestering him. He’d never intended to hurt Ella. He’d never intended Ella to overhear that.

  Not at all.

  If he’d thought for a moment that she would overhear that, he wouldn’t have said those things.

  Yes, you would have. You didn’t want a relationship and you hated the way people tried to pair you off with her.

  Guilt gnawed at him for hurting her.

  Even if her mother had dressed her like she was some kind of porcelain doll, all frills and ruffles. She’d drowned in
yards of fabric back then. Unflattering and dreadful colored fabric.

  It didn’t matter.

  He saw her for who she really was underneath.

  And now she exuded confidence he’d never seen in her before. It made him want her all the more.

  When they had been standing alone together in the staffroom, he’d wanted to kiss her again. As he worked on minor injuries it was all he could do to not think about that moment in the on-call room when she’d woken up to see him and had smiled.

  Memories of her kiss had got him through so many rough times. And as he worked in the emergency room tonight on Christmas Eve, a hard night for him, he was relying on those memories all too much.

  Her sighs, her silky hair and the way she’d felt in his arms.

  It had always felt so right. And it scared him just a bit.

  It was distracting because it was taking all his strength not to cross the trauma floor and take her in his arms and kiss her again. To continue the kiss from the on-call room.

  Don’t think about it.

  The problem with that logic was then he thought back to Christmas last year. And when he thought back to Christmas last year, all he could hear was the screech of missiles, gunfire and screaming.

  “My son. Oh, God. Have mercy on my son.” Consuela’s voice echoed in his head.

  Zac scrubbed a hand over his face, forcing those memories away because he had to regain control. He couldn’t let those thoughts in because when he let those thoughts in, he lost control.

  “Dr. Lockwood,” Dr. Lynne called, running. He watched as Dr. Lynne spoke hurriedly to Ella, concern etched on her face.

  “What’s wrong?” Zac asked, as he instinctively fell into step beside them.

  “It’s our accident patient. He’s crashed twice and they’ve revived him. I think he’s bleeding internally again.”

  They didn’t say anything as they headed to the ICU, where Dr. Trace was working on bringing the patient back.

  Ella began rapid-fire orders to hang blood and get an OR prepped. Zac couldn’t help but watch her in admiration.

  This was a far cry from the girl who had panicked because she didn’t know if she’d be accepted into medical school. The woman who had hidden in the shadows behind everyone.

 

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