After stopping by Dr. Hogan’s office, I headed to the surgical suites. As he'd told me, Dr. Wentworth was closing a patient on the table. Watching her through the observation window was a trip; I knew that was what she did for a living, but it was another thing entirely to see it firsthand.
About fifteen minutes later, she disappeared into a different room, soon coming out with paper towels in her hands. Her brows went up when she saw me, and she threw the paper towels in the trash can beside us.
“Is everything okay with Benito?” she asked right away.
“Yes.” Dipping my hands into my pockets, I jingled the change in one of them. Why did the sight of her in scrubs and a surgical cap do something to my insides? “I came to see you.”
If possible, her brows went up further. “Me? Why?”
“To make sure my chat with your CMO made a difference.”
She looked down. “I see the Chief of Staff more frequently than the Chief Medical Officer, meaning Dr. Hogan and I haven't spoken about it. This is my first day back performing surgeries, and I've been too busy to notice if the others are gossiping about me.”
“Understandable.” I wanted so badly to reach out and smooth the creases between her eyebrows. “As for my father . . . I wanted your professional opinion on his miraculous recovery. Do you think he was faking his illness?”
When she looked up, her expression was a tad shocked, though also somewhat resigned. “In all honesty, I wondered the same. But I double checked his x-rays and saw the evidence of pneumonia myself. Not to mention, the after-effectsof the bombing—excuse me, the plane crash—are also well documented.”
My heart thumped heavily. All this time, I’d thought she believed my fake explanations. Subconsciously, I moved closer and lowered my voice. “You don't think it was a plane crash?”
Sailor rolled her eyes, showing me she was much more intuitive than I gave her credit for. “No, I don't.”
“Am I really that poor of a liar?”
I stepped even closer, and Sailor backed up until she bumped the wall.
“Sorry to be the one to break the news, but yes. It might have something to do with your reputation.”
“Well, damn.”
“I knew better immediately, but it didn't seem necessary to call you out.”
The urge to touch her became overwhelming, so I reached out until I could brush her fingers with mine. She inhaled sharply, her fingers twitching and her pupils widening as our gazes locked.
“I shouldn't have lied, but I didn't want you to worry about us, that's all.”
“I do worry,” she whispered, then swallowed heavily. “About Benito.”
“Not about me?”
We were so close I could make out the various flecks of green and brown in her eyes. Her scrubs were blue, making her hazel eyes change to a similar shade.
“You’re not someone who needs to be worried about. You're a big boy.”
For some reason, that made me grin. “That I am.”
Just the slightest shift brought my pants whispering against hers. Our arms bumped, and I linked our hands. I wanted to lean in, kiss her softly, and inhale the scent of her skin. With extracaution, treating her as a scared doe, I reached up to run the pad of my thumb over her cheek.
“Dr. Wentworth,” a nurse said, exiting the room Sailor had come from. They looked up from the chart they were holding. “Oh. I'm terribly sorry to interrupt.”
And the spell was broken.
Sailor pushed me away, her face morphing into a reddened version of extreme professionalism. “You don’t even like me, Noah. Go home and check on your father.”
Dismissing me, Dr. Wentworth turned to the nurse and took the chart from them to confirm the aftercare for the patient. I felt lost, like I’d been seconds from something important and was now floating in the ether. Every time I got her to drop her walls just a little, she brought them back up as quickly as possible. And each time, it became even harder to crack her hard outer shell.
Not that I could blame her. I had walls I’d been erecting for decades, and I didn't lower them for anyone. Part of me wondered if I was merely attracted to Sailor’s pretty face, or if I had any actual feelings for her whatsoever. She’d done an amazing job with my dad, forcing me to admit my defensiveness in the beginning was only due to his refusal to follow the first doctor’s orders. I expected more of the same, and I’d expected his health to fail further until I lost him for good. Taking that fear out on Sailor was unfair, but I didn't realize that until she’d been hurt at our house.
Despite my frustration, I left the hospital to head back to the hotel. My father still owed me explanations, I was certain, but I didn't see him choosing to divulge his secrets to me. Not after he’d insisted there weren't any.
