by Stacy Borel
My eyes were still closed when he said my name.
“Annabelle.”
“Hmmm?”
“How are you feeling?”
How was I feeling? Did I even have any feeling? I wiggled my toes and dropped my arms from his chest. I had no clue I had gripped his shirt so tightly that the material was now wrinkled. Yeah, I had some feeling.
I bit my lip and shyly looked down. “I’m good.”
He tipped my chin up with his index finger. “You sure?”
I wanted to bust out laughing. He knew what he had just done to me. I, Annabelle, had become unglued and allowed a man to make me feel something more than just a crush.
“Definitely sure.”
He smirked. “Good. Let’s walk.”
We were still standing where he’d stopped me on the side of the road with no regard to neighbors seeing our public display of affection. Turner took my hand again, and started in the direction of the house. He made small talk about his family and how crazy they could be, while nothing wiped the perma-grin off my face. Was this what true happiness felt like? Those ooey gooey girl feelings that the women in the hospital who fawned all over him gushed about? I didn’t want to be like one of them, but I felt the feelings creeping in. I wanted to go home and tell Chaz all about the kiss like a teenage girl, while my fat cat looked on with disinterest.
Indifference toward Turner was all but gone, and my need for more had replaced it. I walked beside him, wondering when he would ask me out again, and where it would be. I wanted to know if he would kiss me again, and if it would be just like this one. Things like relationships, dating, and love were not my forte. I didn’t technically know how to take on any of it because I lacked experience. But I could see myself liking him more and more at this pace. He did all the right things, and he said all the right things. But history has shown me for over seven years that those things didn’t necessarily add up to what was good for me. I didn’t let people in for reasons I chose to keep to myself. I was going to have to seriously ask myself if it was time to let those walls down and see if life was going to play nice again. I couldn’t afford to lose another person that I cared about without it destroying me. Pain was a feeling I was well acquainted with, but it was an emotion that given the chance to strike me down again, I knew I wouldn’t survive it.
Turner and I ended our night on a good note. His mom sent me home with a container of food, and she slid a note on top of it with her phone number and a short message to contact her if I ever needed anything. Then in smaller letters she wrote:
P.S. What you’re doing for the baby is admirable. If I can help, let me know.
When I climbed into my car and read it, I wanted to crumple it up and throw it on the floor board. Only reason I didn’t was because it tugged at my heart. I ended up putting the note in my purse where I could access it. I know I may have felt guarded while speaking to her, but intuition told me it was okay. I drove home with thoughts that I should let these people in because I knew they had my best interests at heart. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life keeping people on the outside. Turner was changing me, a piece at a time, but I was changing.
Chapter Nine
Turner
EVER SINCE THAT KISS, I’ve been thinking about more. I wanted Annabelle beneath me, feeling every inch of me as I pushed inside of her. It has been a constant thought since her mouth was on mine. The self-control I had to display that day to not press her against a parked vehicle and do what I’d been dying to do for months now was unreal. I don’t think I’ve ever held back from taking what I wanted from a woman before. Not that any of them really held me back anyway. But my life was a revolving door of women. Never have I had to work for sex. Annabelle, isn’t like that though. It has not been work. It’s been genuine. The draw to her, the desire to have more than her physically, was a new emotion. Did this make me an asshole for being that way to the others? Probably. I’ve had feelings for a few of them, but they were never the kind of feelings where I wanted to bring someone home to meet my parents. Those women were fun, and kept me occupied when I got bored with my life. Okay, yeah, I was the world’s biggest asshole for that. Nothing I could do about it now. Because right now, one girl had my attention, and she’s had it since the day she had lunch at my parent’s house.
I was on call earlier this morning and had to come in to surgically correct someone’s knee. I wasn’t particularly busy at the moment, and I considered going up to Annabelle’s floor to surprise her. Admittedly, I had already made a call to see if she was on duty. Sure, I could have asked her, but a surprise visit seemed more fun. Yeah, I wanted to see her. Getting on the elevator, I took it down one floor to Labor and Delivery. The nurse’s station was unoccupied except for a young girl that I’d never seen before. She glanced up at me briefly, then looked back to her work, only to shoot her eyes back up to mine. Her whole demeanor screamed of inexperience. She was new and had no clue who I was. After this, based off her expression, I’d guess she’d learn.
“Can I help you with something, Doctor . . .” She looked at my name tag hanging from the pocket of my scrubs. “Brooks?”
Not that I wanted to butter her up, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to lay on some charm. Giving her a million dollar smile that seemed to work on majority of the ladies, I watched it affect her just as I suspected it would. She fluttered her eye lashes and smoothed her smock down even though there wasn’t a wrinkle in sight.
“Actually, I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of where one of your nurses is right now.”
“Oh, um, sure. Who are you looking for?”
“Annabelle. I was told she was on today.”
Disappointment played over her face. “She is, but I think she’s on her break. I can let her know that you stopped in if you’d like.”
“No, that’s okay. I just had some things to discuss with her, but it can wait.”
If she wasn’t readily available, I had no interest in keeping this conversation going. Again, I never said I wasn’t the world’s biggest asshole. Turning away, I made my way to their break room. She wasn’t there. Huh. Where would she go? I could look in the cafeteria, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t find her there. Then it hit me. I knew where she was. It was instinct. I had gotten better at reading her over the last couple months, and given the time to think about it, it should have been the first place I looked when they said she wasn’t there.
I used my security card to go through the door of the NICU. I wasn’t familiar with this area of the hospital at all, but it wasn’t that hard to see everything. The room was open with babies in incubators spread throughout the space. I scanned the room for her strawberry blonde hair. Sure enough, there she was. In the back corner, Annabelle sat in a rocking chair, holding quite possibly the smallest baby I’d ever seen. I approached her slowly, like you would walking up on a lion, unsure if it will attack or allow you closer. The air around her screamed protective mode. She cradled the baby to her chest. If anybody got too close, she looked like she would pounce. I was only a few feet away from her and she still hadn’t seen me. I observed her. She rocked back and forth, and soothingly rubbed his naked back. His fragile body swam in the too large diaper on his lower half, and her other hand held him under his bottom. A few wires kept him connected to the machines that monitored his oxygen levels and pulse. Annabelle whispered words to him that I couldn’t hear. This wasn’t what I expected to walk in to when I caught up with her.
When she spoke about the baby she helped deliver and she would check in on, I assumed she would peek in on him, ask the nurses what his progress was, and would leave. This wasn’t what was happening at all. It was clear as day to me. This baby meant something to her. She felt for him. She was caring for him as if he were her own. My presence became known when she heard a nurse coming up beside me. When her aqua colored eyes met mine, I saw several emotions flash across her face: shock, uncertainty, anger, and embarrassment. I did my best to express underst
anding without words. I wasn’t judging her. No, I didn’t get what was going on here, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t empathetic and wouldn’t try to understand.
“Turner.” She said my name almost like a question.
I walked closer to where she was rocking until I was directly in front of her. “Hi.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I went to your floor to surprise you, but you weren’t there.”
“How did you know I was here?”
“I didn’t.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It was a guess.”
She watched me with a very calculated look upon her face. I could tell Annabelle had no idea what do to or say, but she was in defense mode. Instead of making a big deal out of seeing her like this, I decided it was best that I shift the subject and mood toward what I intended on asking her before I came down here.
“So I was thinking, dinner at my place might be a good idea.”
“Your place?”
“Yes. I’m kind of a good cook. No worries though, nothing cheesy like candles and Marvin Gaye or anything. I’ll still keep it simple, but I thought another easy and relaxing date would be nice while I think of something else to get you questioning why you say yes to me.” I tossed a smile in her direction, hoping she’d enjoy the tease.
Even though she was holding such a small little person in her hands, her attention was on me and that adorable eyebrow went up. “Dinner at your place, because you’re still thinking of other dates to take me on to make me question my life?”
“Well, that’s one way of thinking of it.”
“Doctor Brooks, you’re not funny.”
“Actually, I am.”
“No, not really.”
“I think I’m hysterical. But that doesn’t answer my question.”
“I don’t believe you actually asked me a question.”
Touché, sassy girl. I guess I didn’t phrase it like a question. There she goes again, keeping me on my toes. “Would you like to come to my place this evening, so I may cook you dinner, and we could talk and drink wine?”
She cracked a smile at me. “I thought you said there would be no cheesiness?”
I put my hand up to my chest. “There was no cheese in that question.”
She looked at me long and hard, her hand mindlessly patting the infant’s back. “What time do you want me there?”
“Seven. We’ll make it a late dinner.”
“Text me your address and let me know what you need me to bring.”
I winked at her. “Yes, ma’am.” I took a step toward her and bent down. My lips met her forehead and I kissed her. “And we will be talking about this.”
When I pulled away her eyes were huge on her face. I wasn’t trying to scare her, but we’d gone out enough that I should be able to ask some questions and get answers. If she didn’t want to tell me the depths of her feelings that was fine. She would eventually. I was ready for more from Annabelle. I wanted to pick her brain and learn how she ticked. I wanted her physically and in every way possible. I craved her like no other. Tonight, I would get from her what I wanted.
***
Annabelle
Never had I anticipated Turner coming to the NICU. Him seeing me like that was almost too much. Had I not been holding the baby, I probably would have gotten more upset than I let on. First his mom asking too many questions, now him. And what did he mean we would be talking about this? There was nothing to talk about. It wasn’t any of his business, either. If he thought we were talking about anything relating to this, he was going to be disappointed.
I didn’t have time to think about Turner during the last half of my shift. We had three moms arrive in active labor and all three delivered within an hour of each other. When I finished my portion of the paperwork, I clocked out and headed home. I had thought about when the time would come that I would be stepping foot in Turner’s space, but I figured I would be more nervous than I currently was. I chalked it up to exhaustion. I was dead on my feet and his idea for wine and food sounded amazing to my tired brain and body right now.
When I got home, I changed into comfortable jeans, a loose tank top, and took my hair out of the ponytail it had been in all day. I pulled it half up, and let some pieces on the side fall around my face. There was no need for make-up but I did add a little bit of gloss to my lips before I got back into my car and made the drive to his place. Turns out he lived on the tenth floor of a building not far from the hospital. He had instructed me to pull into the parking garage and what number space to park in. When I got into the elevator the butterflies started their fluttering. I didn’t know what to expect from Turner tonight, but I was stepping foot into his space. It was his domain and his rules. Was tonight going to turn into something more than just a kiss? Would I allow it? I decided before I raised my hand to knock on the door, that I would just let things flow and see where the night took us. It went against the grain for me, however I couldn’t deny that I wanted Turner Brooks. He intrigued me in every sense of the word. I desired him like no other, and at some point I needed to admit to myself that I honestly had no control with him. He held me captive when I got too close, and if he wanted something from me, I was going to let him take it.
I knocked softly. He opened the door and my mouth gaped. Wearing a pair of worn jeans, and a tight fitted t-shirt, not a single muscle wasn’t on full display and open to my viewing. Even better, he was traipsing around without shoes or socks. He saw me checking him out and I made a show of closing my mouth and giving him a “fuck you, I may have been caught but it doesn’t matter” smirk.
“Evening, Annabelle.” He stepped to the side allowing me to come in.
“Doctor Brooks,” I regarded him formally.
He shook his head as I walked past. Our banter and flirting was already starting and the evening was young. Following behind me, he closed the door and allowed me to scan my surroundings. It was a very modern, chic apartment, and exactly what I expected from him. Clean lines, black leather furniture, and an open floor plan. There was no true entry way into the space. I walked right into the living room where a large couch sat at an angle over the top of a gray area rug. A massive television covered a portion of the wall, and a very nice surround sound system hung in every corner that I could see. To the right was a kitchen that had gray cabinets and a black granite countertop. Stainless steel appliances rounded off the modern kitchen. It smelled amazing in in his apartment—an aroma of fresh herbs and spices with a touch of garlic. Stepping toward the kitchen, I saw the two wine glasses and a bottle of white and red wine next to them. Something was simmering on the stovetop, and two plates sat beside it.
I turned to look at him. “What’s for dinner?”
“Chicken piccata over linguine, and garlic bread is in the oven.” He skirted past me, barely brushing my bare arm. I shivered. “I wasn’t sure if you liked red or white, but reds usually go better with Italian.”
“Red is fine,” I concurred.
He poured me half a glass, while he did the same for himself. “Feel free to relax and make yourself at home. There are stools on the other side of the bar if you care to sit there.”
I did as he suggested. He went to the stove and stirred what was cooking. I took a seat on a silver stool that had no backing. It was slightly uncomfortable but for conversation sake, I’d stay here until it was time to eat.
“How was work?” he asked.
“Quite busy actually. Three deliveries.”
“Were you in on all of them?”
“I was for two, the third I came in after the baby was born and did some clean up.”
“Do you ever get to go in during C-sections?”
“No, not really. I’ve seen a few, but there are other nurses on staff, that are trained for those.”
Small talk, or genuine interest. Either way, the conversation flowed from one subject to another. I’d been there for about twenty minutes when he said the food was read
y. He made my plate and carried it over to a black table. He stuck to his word. No candles were lit, and no weird music was being played. There was a clicker on the table near his chair and he picked it up and pushed a couple buttons. In a moment I heard Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On” start playing throughout the house.
I looked at him and raised a brow. “Really?”
He chuckled. “I’m totally teasing. Set that one up.”
I laughed. “Well played.”
He pushed another couple buttons and some low key country came on.
“I promise no more ‘cheese.’ But I had to tease.”
I smirked. “Wasn’t sure where you were going with that one.”
He shook his head and dove into his food. I followed suit and silence ensued. It was still comfortable though. It felt like we’d done this many times before and it was natural to enjoy each other’s company. Something I’d never felt with someone else before.
“You ever consider moving up to my floor?”
I paused with my fork midair. “I suppose I have.”
“If a position opened up, would you consider it?”
I thought about it. “Maybe, but I’m enjoying where I’m at more than I expected to. The other nurses are quite nice and seeing the deliveries day in and day out, is very gratifying to me. No two births are the same, and it keeps me on my toes.”
