All of Me

by Bell, Heatherly

  “Uh huh.” Damn, he was tired. Not too tired to flirt with Ivey, but too tired to talk about what a great doctor he was. Or wasn’t. The jury was still out. And he had an early call tomorrow morning. He took one last longing look at Ivey and made a snap decision. “Good night. I’m going to bed.”

  With any luck, he’d actually sleep.

  Chapter 9

  Ivey blinked awake as the pale moonlight spilled from the overhead skylight. She jerked up, forgetting where she was for a moment. She’d fallen asleep on Jeff’s couch. Her last memory was of fighting off sleep so she could read a few more pages. She’d almost finished the novel, and soon Melody and Bobby would be together again after all the trouble. They were meant to be.

  She stretched and yawned. The digital clock on the kitchen microwave read four in the morning when she staggered towards her bedroom, eyes bleary and half-mast.

  Once in her dark room, she fumbled for the bed and pushed back the covers. The bed seemed bigger than it had looked earlier. She snuggled into it, grateful for another few hours of sleep before tomorrow morning.

  "This is an interesting way of flirting,” Jeff said from the other side of the bed.

  What the hell?

  “What are you doing in here?" Ivey rolled off the side of the bed and fell in a heap on the floor. "Oh, ow." This floor was so much harder than it looked.

  "Are you all right?" He leaned over the side of the bed, shirtless. And who knew what else he was “less.” In all their time together, she’d never known him to sleep in anything but his birthday suit.

  Ivey held up her hand. "No! I mean yes, I'm fine, and stay there! Please don't get out of bed."

  But of course he hopped out of bed, flipped on the light and was next to her in seconds. “Did you hit your head? And why are you squeezing your eyes shut?”

  I won’t look, I won’t look, I won’t look. “I’m okay, you ninny.”

  “If you’re okay, then open your eyes and look at me.”

  Please let him have some clothes on. She slowly opened one eye and then the other to find Jeff crouched next to her wearing a pair of dark boxer briefs. Okay, not so naked. But still. “I’m looking at you.”

  He gazed in her eyes intently—as if he’d lost his keys in there. “Where does it hurt?”

  “Oh no, I’m not telling you that.” He’d completely unnerved her with his penetrating eyes and his stupid boxers.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Let’s put it this way: you’re not touching where it hurts. Got it?” Her lower back had taken the worst of it, right next to her ass.

  “I’m getting you an ice pack.” He was out the door before she could protest.

  “Stop overreacting.” She slowly rose from the cold hardwood floor and rubbed her butt. He had to stop behaving like a doctor and understand she could take care of herself. Nurse and all.

  She made her way to the door only to find him blocking it, holding the ice pack in one hand. "But how did you manage to get the wrong room, Little Face?" He gave her a lazy grin as he leaned against the door frame. Her breath hitched when she heard his term of endearment. No one had ever called her Little Face before he did, or since.

  "I was half asleep when I woke up on the couch. These two doors look identical. It was an easy mistake. And are you going to give me that ice pack?" She tried to snatch it out of his hands, but he was too quick for her and pulled it out of her reach.

  “Maybe this is really where you want to be." He moved closer until he was only inches away, and she swore she could smell the minty flavor of his toothpaste.

  She couldn’t help but tremble a little bit, because he was so close, and dear Lord he was so gorgeous. The dimple on his chin. Words. Words would be good right now. “The—ice pack?”

  “Yep,” he said, but rather than put it in her outstretched hand, he reached behind her and held it right where it hurt. As if someone had drawn him a map of the area.

  She jumped when his hand hovered near her ass. Exactly where he had no right to be, MD or not.

  “Cold?” he asked.

  But also pretty hot, if I’m being honest. She put on her best smile through gritted teeth. “Take your hand off my ass.”

  “Sure.” He handed her the ice pack. “I don't recall inviting you in here, but you might as well stay."

  "I might, except that I'm not." She shoved past him and closed the door quickly, unwilling to hear one more word out of his sexy mouth.

  She'd never make this mistake again, dark hallway or not. Maybe she'd mark her bedroom door with a glow-in-the-dark sticker to be on the safe side.

  She didn't know what upset her most, the fact that he'd suggested she'd done this on purpose, or the frightening reality that for one moment she wanted to stay exactly where she was and find out if those abs were as rock hard as they looked.

  No, the only way this arrangement was going to work, the only way her heart could handle this, was if they both kept their hands off each other. And if tonight was any indication, it would be a challenge.

  The next morning Ivey blinked awake and pulled the covers over her head. Under the covers she’d stay until she could be certain he’d left. Wandering into his bedroom was not the way she’d planned her first night as his roommate.

  One way or another, he’d get the message that they couldn’t do a round two of Jeff and Ivey. A second breakup and there might not be enough pink and blue ribbons in the state. Anyway, one kiss and he’d see inside her. And he wouldn’t like what he found.

  When in the silence of the morning she heard a lone dog barking in the distance, Ivey tiptoed out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. Sharing a bathroom was another challenge she hadn't thought all the way through.

  She would have to remind herself to check the toilet seat on a regular basis, because falling in during the night would hurt almost as much as falling onto the hardwood floor. She rubbed her lower back. Despite the ice pack, it still felt sore and bruised. Much like her pride.

  The bathroom was organized better than she would have thought for two guys. And it was clean. The medicine cabinet had two empty rows—he'd made room for her. Well. This could work if he continued to be so accommodating.

  His thin row contained only deodorant, a razor, toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, and a small almost-full bottle of men’s cologne. No hair gel for his glorious hair, no hair spray. So in other words, it still took no effort to look that good. Ivey frowned as she pulled out her toiletries from the bag she’d left in the bathroom yesterday—hair mousse and gel, hair spray, make-up remover, body spray, razors, special teeth-whitening toothpaste, deodorant, and make-up. Before long her rows were full and she squeezed a few more items onto his row, hoping he wouldn’t notice since he obviously didn’t need the room.

  After her shower Ivey towel dried her hair. She wiped the steam from the mirror, viewing the face of a determined woman. A woman who had plans, a career, a direction. So what if she’d been alone for the past few years?

  She would be all right, as long as she could stop thinking about him. Last night had been humiliating enough, but thank heaven dreams were private. In her dreams she'd stayed in that bed with him and enjoyed every part of his hard body. Even now, her naked breasts quivered at the memory.

  Ivey pointed to her reflection in the mirror. “Stop it.”

  She dressed and looked through the bare kitchen cupboards. There were a few cans of soup and not a single vegetable in the crisper. A nearly empty gallon of milk, and some kind of science experiment that might have been cheese at one time. Ivey started a grocery list.

  The man was definitely household challenged. Although he wasn’t challenged in any other way. Highly intelligent, educated, respectful, kind, with bedroom eyes, and thick brown hair that she wanted to run her fingers through. That any woman in her right mind would want to run her fingers through. Broad shoulders, strong arms, and large hands that knew how to hold a woman. She did remember that. Abs to die for, she’d seen those l
ast night. Ivey sighed, and then sucked in a breath when she took a closer look at her grocery list. She’d unconsciously written down every one of Jeff’s attributes right along with the food items. Dammit. She tore up the list and threw it in the trash.

  What are you doing, Ivey? Fantasizing about her ex, that’s what. She had to remember that he’d left her because she wanted too much from him. And he hadn’t been willing to give it. Didn’t want to marry her. Even if he didn’t know she’d been pregnant, the fact was he’d never changed his mind. Never called and said he was sorry. Never told her he regretted their fight. Not a single phone call, text, or email. Maybe it was harder for her, because she’d carried a part of him, and that had made it impossible to ever forget him.

  But sometimes Ivey wondered if she were silently punishing him for something he didn’t know. She couldn’t hold him responsible for the things he didn’t realize had happened, but some small and unreasonable part of her wanted to believe that somehow he should have known.

  Her cell phone rang. Ivey recognized Marissa’s caller ID and answered with a smile. “Have you reconsidered?”

  “I’d like to talk to you about that. In person. Could we meet, maybe for breakfast?” Marissa sounded perky and excited. This had to be good news.

  Ivey knew exactly the place. Sooner or later she’d have to face everyone after last night’s broadcast. No better place better than Mama’s to find out if she and Aunt Lucy were still welcome in town.

  Mama’s was bustling when Ivey eased into a booth at the diner, prepared for the worst. Em barely glanced at her, busy with the morning rush.

  Ophelia Lyndstrom and Kevin Morrison were sitting in a booth on the other side of the restaurant, and as they were leaving, they veered in Ivey’s direction.

  She braced for impact.

  “We want you to know none of us believes your Aunt Lucy had anything to do with that ugly matter,” Kevin said as he took out his wallet.

  “Not for a minute.” Ophelia patted Ivey’s hand.

  “Thanks. Because she didn’t. She’s pretty upset about the whole thing.” Over the phone from Italy, Aunt Lucy had some choice words for Ben Cartwright, the kind Ivey would rather not repeat in front of her elders.

  “I imagine she is. The poor dear. You think you know someone.”

  They were being so nice, it was a little strange. Where was the outrage? Aunt Lucy did know how to pick them, didn’t she? Even Ivey would have to agree with that.

  Kevin put his business card down on the table and slid it across to Ivey. “If you wouldn’t mind, dear, give my card to your aunt. We need new advisors to the city planning commission, and I always value the opinions of reasonable people.”

  And Aunt Lucy sounded reasonable?

  Ophelia nodded. “We should go. Have a good day, Ivey.”

  “You’ll give her my card?” Kevin coughed.

  “Sure.” Ivey put it in her purse, wondering what city coffer or new project needed funding now. Everyone in town knew about Lucy’s windfall, and had already hit her up countless of times for donations, investments or loans.

  Em popped by to take Ivey’s order. “What was that about?”

  “I don’t know, but I think someone needs money. At least they realize Aunt Lucy had nothing to do with her ex-husband’s fraud.”

  “No one thinks your aunt had anything to do with that swindle. It’s always the men who cheat. Always the men.”

  Well there was a story there, but Ivey didn’t have time for it this morning. First order of business: get Marissa on board. She’d then start referring midwives to the hospital for work, and everyone would be happy. Possibly not everyone, but perhaps most people. Good enough.

  “I was worried about you last night when I saw the broadcast. Where are you staying now?” Em asked as she poured Ivey some coffee.

  “Um, well, I’m staying with Jeff in Scott’s bedroom, only until I find another place.”

  Em didn’t bat an eye. “Isn’t he a sweetheart? I’m telling you, Dr. Garner would give the shirt off his back to any one of us.”

  Of course he would. He’s rather fond of taking his shirt off.

  She thought about those muscles, and what it might feel like to run her hand down his chest down to his crunch-worthy abs. To feel the strong beat of his heart under her fingers.

  “So what are you doing today?” Em’s voice jerked Ivey back to reality.

  She was sitting alone in the diner, thinking about her ex’s abs. Probably a bad sign. “I’m meeting a friend.”

  On cue, Marissa walked into the diner and waved to Ivey. But she wasn’t alone. With her was a beautiful Amazon of an exotic-looking woman at about 36 weeks of gestation, Ivey would say, give or take.

  Marissa made the introductions. The woman was Asia Foster, one of Marissa’s patients.

  “This is my first baby,” Asia said. “And I want everything to be right. Perfect. I’ve timed it down to a science, and I should be having the baby sometime tomorrow. That’s actually the anniversary of the first day we met. The labor will be smooth and progress swiftly, and then I’ll give birth right on my bed. My husband will hold my hand and recite a poem of his choosing right as our baby is born into the world.”

  Asia reminded Ivey of Jeff on steroids. The woman liked to plan too, and unfortunately would soon find out that babies did the planning. And didn’t tell you about it ahead of time. Not to mention the fact that according to everything Babs said, they continued to do that for the next few years of their lives.

  Ivey and Marissa exchanged a meaningful look, fine-tuned by midwives all around the world. How precious. First time mothers. Gotta love them.

  “What makes you think you’re going to give birth tomorrow?” Ivey asked.

  “Months of visualizing techniques. Works every time.”

  “So the problem is,” Marissa said, with a look that implied this would be no problem at all, “I’m going out of town tomorrow to visit my sister in Oregon. I hate the Grape & Wine Festival. All those people worshipping a vine. It’s ridiculous. So Asia is a little bit worried.”

  “A lot worried. You’re my midwife. Who knew you’d be taking off when I give birth?”

  “This is Asia’s first baby, and I’ve tried to explain babies have their own time table, and being that she’s barely now at thirty-eight weeks gestation, it’s highly unlikely the baby will come tomorrow. And I’ll be back Monday morning. But my idea, Ivey, is that you would cover for me while I’m gone. To ease Asia’s mind. Again, I doubt that the baby will come—”

  “Oh he’s coming,” Asia said with a slight whistle.

  Because Ivey had never met a mother who could determine her baby’s day of birth, she was 99.9% certain that covering for Marissa would mean maybe a phone call from Asia asking why nothing was happening and not much beyond that.

  “I’d love to. Don’t worry, Asia, if your baby—”

  “When, you mean.”

  “Sure. When your baby comes, I’ll be there.” Ivey leaned over to pat the woman’s hand, an empathy trick she’d learned from Babs.

  Asia’s eyes narrowed. “But you don’t look old enough to be a midwife.”

  “I’ve already gone over Ivey’s qualifications. She studied under a colleague, Babs Holiday. I trust her completely.”

  Fortunately, it didn’t look like either one of the women had seen the news last night or made the connection between Aunt Lucy and Ivey, or maybe they’d have other thoughts.

  To put Asia at ease, Ivey went over her experience and qualifications again. All the skills she’d put on the back burner for the past few weeks that she’d been back in town—first taking care of Aunt Lucy and now fighting for a job in a hospital. Fighting to be acknowledged. But it occurred to her that she missed bringing babies into the world. Even though Asia’s baby would not be arriving on her watch, she had to get back to the business of birth sooner rather than later. This was probably Marissa’s gentle way of reminding Ivey where her priorities should be, and s
he did have a point.

  Asia finally left with Marissa, reassured that her baby wouldn’t be brought into the world by an incompetent. Now Ivey could get to the grocery store and take care of someone else’s incompetence.

  “You’re kidding! But it’s for the kids! How can you do this to me on such short notice?” Em shouted into the phone. The diner did take-out orders, and Ivey wondered what kind of an order would elicit that kind of reaction. “That’s a fine how-de-do. Yeah, yeah. Goodbye.”

  Ivey picked up her ticket and swung by the register to pay. “What was that about?”

  “My niece informs me she can’t come down and help me with our booth at the festival like she does every year. Leaves me hanging the day before. How do you like that?”

  Ivey would be dropping by the festival, because that’s what people in Starlight Hill did. She’d make an appearance, say hello to everyone so they realized she wasn’t judging them for loving the vine, and then leave. Maybe she’d rent a movie afterwards or download another book for her Kindle. Great, she was starting to sound like the town spinster.

  Em was eyeing Ivey in a way she never had before, sizing her up. “Are you about a size six?”

  Ivey cleared her throat. More like a size seven. Her “girls” kept her from the smaller sizes, since they had their own zip code. “Er, about. Why?”

  “I have to ask you for a huge favor. It’s for a good cause, and I know you’ll be perfect for it.”

  With that, Ivey braced herself once again.

  Chapter 10

  “She has got to be kidding,” Ivey muttered the following day as she inspected the costume she’d promised to wear to the festival.

  She’d agreed to help out at Em and Si’s booth—some kind of Medieval theme—and that meant wearing a costume. Because she wanted to show how much she appreciated the town’s support, and also because it was a bit difficult to say no to Em, Ivey agreed to pitch in. It would mean that she’d meet some people at least, and wasn’t that what a woman intent on not being the town’s spinster should do every once in a while? Sounded like a good idea at the time.