by Tina Beckett
Because what she’d said was true. She could fall for this man. Only he obviously had other ideas. Ideas that did not involve him and her together forever.
They were not a couple, and they were unlikely to ever become a couple, so she needed to get that thought right out of her head. They both needed to be on the same page about this. She didn’t need to be mooning after him and wondering whether or not he felt the same. He didn’t. He’d just said he could shove what had happened between them into a box and seal it up, probably for all eternity.
Lindy only hoped she was strong enough to do the same. She wasn’t stupid. She knew that the feelings he’d generated in her tonight would easily turn into a form of infatuation if she wasn’t careful. One that was based on nothing more than pleasurable sensations.
Pleasurable sensations? That was such a weak way of expressing how she’d felt. Which was part of the problem. She shouldn’t be looking for stronger words.
She shook herself from her mental ramblings to see him standing there with his hands on his hips. Her heart skipped a beat. He was one of the most attractive men she’d ever laid eyes on. She needed him to get dressed before she did something stupid. Like peel those briefs off and haul him back to bed. If that happened, it would be a whole lot harder for her to let him go, or compartmentalize what had happened, like he wanted her to do.
“I’m glad we’re in agreement on where to go from here.” She wasn’t sure they were, but that was all she could think of to say to get him out of her bedroom and out of her house.
As if reading her mind, he reached for his slacks and pulled them on, one leg at a time, buckling them around his waist. Realizing she was staring, she turned away and tidied her bed and gathered her own clothes before sitting on the edge of it. Except that reminded her of the way she’d pulled him toward her and slid her mouth...
Lord! She wasn’t sure there was a compartment big enough to pack all of this away. But she’d better find one, even if it meant building it with her own two hands.
But at least he now had his clothes on, and that wallet was tucked back in his pocket. No fear of repeating what had happened. At least not tonight, and hopefully not any other night. He’d already warned her. If she wanted any possibility of continuing to work with him, she’d better get her act together.
So she smiled and saw him to the door, and kept smiling as he walked toward his car and got in, leaving her with one of the worst cases of doubt she’d ever had.
Because as easy as it might be for Zeke to erase this from his memory, Lindy wasn’t at all sure that she was going to be able to follow his example. But if she couldn’t then she needed to pretend. And she’d better do a damned good job of it, or he was going to see right through it and straight into her heart.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ZEKE WAS GLAD to see Lindy already gowned and inside that operating room on Monday morning.
Even though she’d said she wanted to scrub in on Tessa’s case, he hadn’t been entirely sure she’d be there. Especially since he’d been so damned pompous about doing what was best for their patients. As if Lindy didn’t feel the same way. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d turned around and refused to work with him, and not because of what had happened the night before last. But because he’d acted like her boss and not her coworker.
Yes, she was a nurse, but that didn’t mean he was higher than she was on the hiring chart. Yes, he might command the OR, but he didn’t have the power to tell nurses where they could and couldn’t work. Not without a good reason.
And he wasn’t about to tell anyone what had happened between them.
He only hoped she could be just as tight-lipped. Not because he felt embarrassed or ashamed. He wasn’t. But the workplace wasn’t the best place to let these kinds of things play out. Things got twisted out of shape, and heaven forbid something went really wrong...
There it was again. That attitude that he was the only one who knew how to keep this contained. Lindy had just as much at stake as he did, if not more. She was new to the hospital. There was no way she’d want everyone to know that she’d slept with him. And he had no desire to hurt her career, or his own for that matter. So they would just do as he’d said and keep this between the two of them. Surely he was capable of that.
He gave her a smile that was a lot warmer than it should have been, but he was truly glad to see her. “Everything okay?”
“Yes, thank you.” Her response was stilted and formal, but he could understand that. He hadn’t meant to make her feel her job was in jeopardy, hadn’t realized until afterward how she’d taken his words. He hoped he’d cleared that up, but maybe he hadn’t entirely. But he wasn’t sure at this point how to make his meaning any clearer.
Did he really think she couldn’t keep her personal life and her professional life separate? No. The reality was that as he’d been lying on her bed, looking up at her, he had suddenly felt unsure whether or not he was going to be able to keep them separate. And that had terrified him.
There had been a sense of eager exploration on her part that had shocked him. As if the world before her was new and bright, waiting for her to go out and conquer it. It had hit him right between the eyes and moved him in a way that was alien to him.
He and his ex-wife had had a sexual relationship when they’d both been new to the game, but this had been different and new. Not that he had anything to compare it to. She was the first woman he’d been with since his divorce.
Maybe her reaction had stemmed from her abuse. The fact that she trusted Zeke to not be that person touched him. It humbled him, but also made him realize that he was not the best person for her. He couldn’t promise to be there when she needed him. After all, he’d proven once before that he wasn’t trustworthy when it came to that. Instead of working through issues, he withdrew, resisting all efforts to reach him.
But he needed to get over that and be the professional he’d claimed he could be. So he took a deep breath.
“Ready, people?” He glanced around at the individuals in the room with him and saw the nods of those who had devoted themselves to the same cause that he had: saving lives and helping children live those lives in a way that gave them the best chance at happiness and wellness.
Unlike last time, when they’d used twilight sedation, Tessa was now under general anesthesia, since this surgery would be much more invasive than the last one. He’d already mapped out his plan for removing the tumor. It would involve taking out a piece of her stomach, but this particular organ was amazing in that it could stretch and adapt to the needs of the individual.
“Let’s begin. Scalpel.”
As in previous surgeries, Lindy anticipated his every need, placing the instrument in his gloved hand almost before he asked for it. Except this time, he was hyperaware of her fingers connecting with his. As much as he tried to tune it out, he couldn’t. So he ignored it instead.
He found the tumor on the wall of Tessa’s stomach and carefully clamped the blood supply to it. “Preparing to dissect.” His hand was remarkably steady as he made his way around the border of the tumor, marking positions on a chart so that he could tell how the tumor had been situated. He would need that in case the pathology came back with tumor cells within the dissected edge. If he left cells behind, there was a good chance the tumor would grow back. Then he lifted it out and placed the growth in a stainless-steel basin that Lindy held up for him. “I need that taken to Pathology to see if the margins are clean.”
One of the other nurses took the specimen container. “I’ll be right back.”
This was the waiting game. Pathology would do a quick scan to see if they could detect abnormal cells along the border, listing where they’d found them, if they did. If that happened, he would know exactly where to remove more tissue, which would then be rechecked.
There was no music. Zeke preferred to work in a quiet space, and his team kn
ew that, keeping all conversations minimal and in low tones so as not to distract him. Lindy’s eyes met his above the mask. “It looked good.”
“Thank you.” He glanced up at the anesthesiologist. “Everything okay?”
“She’s in good shape.”
The clocked ticked down the seconds and the sound seemed to ping in Zeke’s head, time dragging out until it seemed almost a surreal dream. But it wasn’t. This was a girl’s life and he didn’t want to close her without knowing it was safe to do so.
Ten minutes later the phone to the OR rang and one of the nurses picked it up. She looked at Zeke and gave him a thumbs-up sign then hung up. “All clear.”
A series of pleased murmurs went through the room. “Let’s close her up.”
He sutured the stomach with small careful stitches, not wanting to risk a hole or a leak that could bring with it the danger of peritonitis and a second surgery or worse. As soon as he had that done, he sewed the abdominal muscles back in place and finally the layers of skin.
And then he was done. He glanced again at the clock. What he’d expected to take four hours had taken three. Part of that was due to the skill of his team, and specifically Lindy, who’d performed her duties brilliantly. He might have had a couple of rough patches, but she’d sailed through without a hitch.
“Good job as always, people. Let’s wake her up. Anyone up for coffee?” He made sure he asked early enough that Lindy wouldn’t feel put on the spot if no one else opted to go.
A couple of the other nurses indicated they could go and when he glanced at Lindy, she hesitated as if trying to decide where this fit in that whole personal versus professional discussion they’d had. Finally she nodded.
Relief washed through him like a flood. Maybe they were going to be able to get through this after all. Or at least he was. Maybe she’d misread his intentions as much as he’d thought she had. Or at least was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
And sometimes that was all he could ask. But from now on, no more movie nights with Lindy and her daughter, and no more nights of any kind with Lindy. For his own peace of mind.
* * *
Daisy ran down the hospital corridor and latched onto his leg before he could back away. Zeke stood stock still before looking down at the tyke who’d attached herself to him. Marina used to run up to him and do exactly the same thing, looking up at him with her sweet smile.
But this wasn’t his daughter. And she never would be.
Lindy hurried down the corridor and caught up with Daisy. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize she’d slipped away from me until it was too late.”
He swallowed. The same could be said of Marina. He hadn’t realized she’d slipped away either, until it had been too late. And realizing she was never coming back again had taken even longer to sink in. And when it had...
Clenching his jaw, he forced a smile that probably looked as ghastly as it felt. “It’s fine.”
“Daisy, you need to let go of him.” She pried the child’s fingers loose and then swung her up into her arms.
Daisy looked right at him. “Can Zeke come?”
“No, not tonight.”
That’s right. It was Friday night. A full week since the last disastrous one, when he’d taken Lindy home and made love to her.
She hadn’t asked him to come. In fact, she’d made it clear she didn’t want him to. It was good, because that way he wouldn’t have to turn down the invitation. Which he would have. Right?
“What’s the film?” he asked out of curiosity, not because he was going.
“Princess Diaries!” Daisy’s answer was immediate, the delight in her face obvious.
He couldn’t hold back his grin. “You still like princesses, huh?”
“Princess!”
When he glanced at Lindy, her face was tense. “Don’t worry. I won’t come.”
“I didn’t mean...”
“I know you didn’t.”
Even so, she seemed to hug Daisy tighter as if closing him out of their little circle. That stung, and he got his first whiff of what it was like to be shut out. “I don’t want my parents to get any funny ideas, which they might if it became a regular thing.”
His brows went up. The thought of movie night and all that went with it becoming a regular thing made something inside him perk up. He quickly put it right back in its place. Not only because of work but because of how right it felt having Daisy cling to him.
“I don’t want them to get any funny ideas either.” He forced himself to give Daisy’s nose a light-hearted tweak. “Even though I’ll miss the princesses.”
Realizing how that sounded, he added, “The ones on the screen.”
Well, that didn’t make it much better. He seemed determined to make a mess of things, even when trying to straighten them out. All the more reason to leave things where they’d left them.
Daisy laughed and hugged her mom tight before giving a loud wheezing cough.
His chest gave a sudden squeeze. “Is she okay?”
“Yes, just an allergy or something. She gets them periodically.”
An allergy. Or something. Hadn’t he said those very words?
“Have you had it checked out?”
Lindy looked up at him with a sideways grin. “I’m a nurse, remember? Yes. I checked her out. And I had her pediatrician check her out. Nothing to worry about.”
A few of his muscles relaxed, even though he’d been a doctor at the time that Marina had fallen ill and had missed the signs. Another reminder of why getting involved with someone with a child was not a good idea.
He was happy the way he was, his job giving him all the love and fulfillment he needed.
At least that’s what he had told himself time and time again.
Was he starting to doubt that?
Maybe he was, because he felt a little flat, knowing he wasn’t going to be spending the evening in the company of Daisy and her mother.
Lindy was evidently a whole lot better at compartmentalizing than he was.
“Well, I’m glad she’s okay.”
“Speaking of okay...” she shifted Daisy a little higher on her hip “...how is Tessa doing? I heard that her parents were really happy about the outcome of her surgery. Any idea when she’ll be discharged? I’m assuming she’ll still be here tomorrow. I was hoping to run by and see her, if so.”
“She won’t be discharged for another day or two. I want to make sure her system reboots itself once we introduce liquids and solids back into her diet. And, yes, her parents consider themselves very lucky.”
“I’m sure they do. You’re a great surgeon.”
He hadn’t meant about that. “No, they feel very lucky that the tumor was benign.” He understood the relief they must have felt, even if he hadn’t experienced that first-hand.
“I’m pretty sure they feel lucky to have had you operating on her too. Don’t sell yourself short.”
“I’m not.” He knew he was a good surgeon. But he sometimes wondered if he was lacking in the empathy department, trying to keep himself emotionally removed from his patients even as he tried his best to save them. The same way he’d kept his wife at arm’s length at times. Tessa had somehow broken through that barrier, at least on some level. And Daisy had wormed her way in even further. He was going to have to be careful or pretty soon he wasn’t going to have any wall of protection left.
Did he even really need one?
He used to think he did. And now?
“Well, we’d better go. Mom went down to visit a sick friend and was going to meet us back in the lobby.”
“Have a good time tonight. At least you’ll get to bed at a decent hour.” He couldn’t resist that little rejoinder. The sudden pink tinge to her face said she knew exactly what he was referring to.
“Well, I guess you will to
o.”
That was doubtful at this point, but he wasn’t about to tell her that he’d spent a few sleepless nights remembering what they’d done a week ago. And talking about it, even in a half-teasing way, wasn’t going to help him in that area. Better to just drop the subject before it got any deeper. Or he changed his mind about coming to watch Daisy’s latest princess movie.
Because the further he steered away from any thoughts of an after-party, the better.
* * *
Three days later, Lindy and Zeke were parked outside a neighboring hospital, where they were going to see if its helpline project would fit in with what Mid Savannah wanted to do with a women’s center. They were to spend a couple of hours there and then report back to Neil and the committee later in the week. The idea was to jump in and see how things ran.
And if it came to actually answering phones?
Lindy wasn’t sure she could bare her soul to a complete stranger. But she’d done it at her other volunteer job, and these were strangers who needed help. And hadn’t she bared her soul to Zeke when he’d been practically a stranger? She had, and she was none the worse for wear. Not from that anyway.
Taking a deep breath, she waited for Zeke to push through the door and followed him in. They found the place empty except for two people—one of whom was seated at a desk, a phone in her hand, and the other person, who looked to be a supervisor, was leaning over her. The man scribbled something on a pad of paper and pushed it toward the person on the phone. Lindy’s misgivings grew. Was that person on a tough call? She had no way of knowing.
The man motioned them over, where they waited for him to finish helping the volunteer.
The small office looked like it had actually been a large supply closet at one time, so there wasn’t room for an army of people all talking at once. As it was, it was a little cramped with just the four of them.
She’d been thinking more along the lines of something bigger. With room for two or three people working at one time. And the ability to take walk-ins off the street if it came down to it.
