"Except for lasagna," she whispered. "More cheesy than saucy."
"Incidentally, that's how I prefer it."
"Come on now," she chided, her face still pressed to my chest. "You do not. Take the score you earned. There's no need to cheat on the field goal."
"I'm not," I argued. "I'm squarely in the cheesier-than-saucier camp. But I prefer when there's some sauce on the bottom of the plate, just an extra scoop. Like a—"
"Sauce puddle," she interrupted. "It needs a sauce puddle or it's dry and incomplete."
I murmured in agreement. "Better to be saucy on the plate than between the layers."
"Dammit, you're right." She thumped her fist against my arm. "You're totally right. Even if you made it sound so dirty."
"There you go, Stel. One more item off your list. Ready for that trip to Ikea now?"
"We could bring my parents and sisters along and destroy the whole thing this weekend," she said, laughing. "We don't need an extra pan now but I'm sure we could find something complicated to build. Furniture feats of strength, you know?"
"Better yet, I'll fly my mom out from Oregon, we'll head down to Ikea, and stop at a bad restaurant on the way back and then put together some particle board."
"Oh my god, I love it," she said between laughs.
"Then you can say yes to me," I continued. "Or we could skip all that and stay right here."
"Cal," Stella said. "Cal, sweetie, you're vibrating."
I kissed her forehead. "I know, I can't help it."
Stella grabbed my shoulders and forced me back. "No, you'revibrating." She patted my chest. "I think it's your phone."
Motherfuck.She was right. There was only one number that vibrated that pattern and I had to answer. I hated it. Of course I did. I wasn't on call tonight. If the hospital was calling, it was to report one of my cases was declining and that was not the news I wanted to hear. Not for the patient, not for me.
"Don't move. Not an inch, not a muscle, don't even blink," I warned her, reaching into my breast pocket with a sigh. I scowled at the screen as if that would change anything. It didn't. "This is Doctor Hartshorn."
I listened as the resident explained the complications he was seeing from yesterday morning's valve replacement case and the interventions up to this point, my chin resting on her head and my arm wrapped around her shoulders. If I was getting called in, I was damn well taking this last moment with Stella and savoring it.
"Thanks, Miller. Good catch," I said. I ended the call and replaced the phone in my pocket.
"You have to go," she said. It wasn't a question.
"I do but you can stay here. You can go through my closets and cabinets, and check out my DVR." I needed a yes. I needed to keep this going with her. If we parted here, it was over. I knew it. This spell would break and I'd never get it back. "I'll be back as soon as possible and we can"—I glanced around, wondering what could happen next. She'd saidwait, she'd saidno. I couldn't invite her into my bed after she'd pressed pause like that. She could invite herself but I had to wait until she was ready for my demands, my belt throwing. I couldn't make her ready. "We can watch SportsCenter."
Stella pressed a kiss to my lips and smiled as she shook her head. I wasn't getting what I wanted. Not tonight, maybe not ever. "On the pond. Tomorrow. Same time as always."
"All right," I conceded, still holding her close. "But you're not leaving yet."
She hit me withwhat are you talking about, boyeyes. "I'm not?"
I ran my palm over her backside. She jerked against my touch. "Not in this condition, no. I'm putting salve on you first."
She peered up at me, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Are we playing doctor now?"
I stepped back from the door and zipped up my trousers. I didn't go looking for the belt. Chances were good I'd be out of this suit and into scrubs within the hour. But I did snatch Stella's undies off the floor. "If byplayingyou mean me treating the welts I left on your skin then yes, we're playing."
"You're a special one, Cal."
I couldn't read the expression on her face and didn't have the time to try, instead leading her into the bathroom. I wet a facecloth and plucked a few sample-sized tubes of cream from under the sink and settled on the lip of the tub. There were perks to being a doctor. One of them was the endless amounts of samples. Gesturing for her to come closer, I said, "Turn around and pull that dress up for me, sweet thing."
Stella stared at me for a moment, her hands on her hips. "You want me to turn around and pull up my dress and—and you're going to put cream on my ass? Is that what's happening right now?"
