“But you’re not the only one lifting it up anymore, Deacon.” Emma’s voice was almost tender. “Now, you share it with the rest of us. All the nurses and techs . . . Jenny and Darcy. Hell, even Mira.” She made a face, making me chuckle before her expression settled into something completely different—something that took my breath away. She stared into my eyes, not looking away for a second. “And me. I’m part of it, too. You can let go just a little bit, Deacon. You can trust the rest of us that we’re not going to give up. Let us help you carry the burden, so you can breathe.”
I hadn’t known how much I needed to hear this until she spoke the words. Something inside me that had been wound tight to the point of pain loosened, and as if I’d been waiting for permission, I found myself taking a deep breath, sucking in air. And when I spoke again, the words tumbled out naturally, without any conscious thought or consideration.
“Emma. Go out with me.”
She sat up straighter, frowning. “What? Where?”
“I don’t know.” Dropping my feet to the floor, I leaned my folded arms onto the desk. “I mean, I don’t know where yet. I’ll surprise you.”
“You already have.” Emma’s cheeks had taken on a pink tinge. “Is this . . . do you mean, like, a date?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Exactly that. A date, where I pick you up, we go someplace together—dinner for sure, and then after . . .” I shrugged. “I don’t know. But something.”
“A date.” She cast her eyes upwards as if trying on the idea. “And does this evening end with you dropping me off at my trailer and kissing me goodnight?”
I took a deep breath. “Yeah, if I play my cards right.” I paused. “If you’re asking if that’s what I want, then yes. If you want to know if this is just a not-so-subtle way of getting you into bed, then no. It isn’t. Like you said before, Emma, I’m not subtle. If I just wanted a one-night bang session, a good solid fuck to get it out of both of our systems, I’d say that. But I want . . . more than that. I’d like to spend some time getting to know you outside of the hospital, not talking about work or patients or cancer. I want to take that breath you were talking about—and I want to take it with you.”
Emma blinked slowly, and I had the sudden fear that she was looking for a way to turn me down without hurting me or damaging our professional relationship.
“No is a perfectly acceptable answer,” I rushed to add. “And if you take that option, there’s no harm, no foul. It won’t affect how we work together. I promise, I’m perfectly capable of compartmentalizing—”
“Deacon.” She interrupted my ramble, raising her voice to be heard.
I stopped speaking.
“Yes.”
“Yes?” I responded stupidly, afraid I’d heard her wrong.
“Yes.” Emma laughed softly and stood up. “Yes, I’ll go out with you.”
“Oh. Okay. Great.” I tried to bring some order to my thoughts. “Um, does tomorrow work?” Suddenly, I didn’t want to wait any longer to be with Emma for a long, unbroken evening.
“Tomorrow would be perfect.” She clasped her hands together in front of her. “When you have an idea about where we’re going, will you let me know, so I can wear the right clothes?”
“Something dressy. I’m taking you to a nice restaurant.” The date was falling into place in my mind, even as I spoke. “But be comfortable, too. I mean, you know. I’m not going to wear a suit or anything. This is Florida, after all.”
“Got it.” She took one step backward. “Okay. Well . . . I’m going to head home. I’ll see you tomorrow? At work, I mean?”
“Yes. At work.” I stood up, too, wondering what she would do if I came around the desk right now and took her in my arms. But no—better to wait until we weren’t here at the hospital. Whatever was between us had to be kept separate from our jobs. “And then I’ll pick you up at six, all right? Is that too early?”
“No, that’s perfect.” She inhaled, her chest rising and falling. “Six o’clock it is.” She smiled. “Good night, Deacon.”
“Good night, Emma. See you tomorrow.”
I sat back down at my desk, but there was no way in hell I was going to be able to focus on this report now. I opened the computer anyway, stared at the jumble of words that didn’t make any sense to me and rolled my shoulders. I hoped I hadn’t just made a big mistake in following my gut, in giving in to the need that had been torturing me.
But the hell with it. I’d asked. Emma had said yes. And now . . . I couldn’t wait for tomorrow night.
12
Emma
“Oh, God, Jenny, I think I made a mistake.”
“What are you talking about?” On the screen of my phone, Jenny’s face registered dismay and surprise. “You’ve been dying for Deacon to make his move for months. How in the hell can saying yes to him once he did be a mistake?”
“Not the date, you dweeb.” I twisted in front of the mirror. “The dress.”
