Why was he so … hot? It wasn’t fair. Men like him should come with a warning label, but instead of sayingwatch out, I’m all prickly inside,the package was allcome hither,I’m amazing.
My subconscious inserted Dr. Mitchell into the dream I’d had earlier, and we cheered as the tying runner stole third. We threw our arms around each other and held tight, feeling as if we were the ones holding the team together. I could practically smell the soap on his skin.
I shook the image away. I couldn’t imagine a man like Dr. Mitchell enjoying anything as fun as baseball. Well, maybe I could imagine it—because I just did. But I couldn’t believe it.
He caught sight of me.
I yanked my guilty gaze away, praying the thoughts spinning through my head didn’t show on my face. Good heck, I was not one to stand there all starry-eyed over some surgeon. I hurried to busy my hands with meaningless tasks, hoping he’d forget I was there—or at least pretend to.
As I watched him out of the corner of my eye, my heart rate jump-started. He didn’t leave. Maybe he was confused that I was the nurse on call tonight. This was Gina’s regular shift, so that was it. He was just confused. As soon as it all clicked, he’d be off.
Taking a deep breath, he started toward me.
I let out a quick gasp. Hearing the sound caused my cheeks to burn. I wasn’t supposed to let on that he had any effect on me. That was the game we’d played. He pretended I was wallpaper, and I pretended he was gum on my shoe. I hated it, but I’d played my half of the game well. Why change the rules now?
There was no way he was actually going to talk to me. He’d forgotten something at the nurses’ station and had to come back for it. I scanned the counter for anything out of place, but everything I saw was right where it was supposed to be.
Crap.
I glanced over to make sure he hadn’t flipped around, and our eyes skirted over one another. His were filled with determination. It flickered like sparks in his baby blues. My heart sank. He was totally coming for me. “This is the last time I cover for a friend,” I muttered under my breath.
Oh, how I dreaded working with that man—let alone talking to him. My feet itched to run to the supply closet and not come out until he was long gone. I mentally glued them to the floor.
If I ran now, he’d take it as a personal snub. I wasn’t a snubber. Nor did I want the reputation of a snubber. I’d stick it out and pray he needed something at the nurses’ station and would be gone.
My heart pounded in my chest, nervous about an upcoming confrontation. I took a sip of my highly caffeinated soda and grimaced. That was probably not the best thing to calm my heart rate. I focused on the screen, clicking in all the wrong places, just trying to look too busy to interrupt.
Apparently, I focused too much, because I didn’t notice Dr. Mitchell was next to me until he spoke. “You know those artificial sweeteners are bad for you.”
Shocked that he had actually come to talk to me, I spit my drink all over the computer screen.
“Whoa, careful!” Dr. Mitchell jumped back. He glanced around and handed me a box of wipes to clean off the screen. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you. I thought you saw me coming.” As he got closer, I could again smell the scent of warm homemade bread. It was … delicious.
“It is okay,” I answered. “I saw you; I just hadn’t anticipated you stopping.” I chanced a look at him to gauge his reason for being there. His eyes were full of uncertainty, and his usually squared shoulders were slightly hunched forward—as if he were protecting himself fromme. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Disoriented? That might be the best word to describe my feelings at the moment.
“Uh … I’m sorry …” he said, like he was searching for words as if they were written on the walls, the floor, the ceiling, and finally on my forehead. “I didn’t know you worked the night shift.”
Small talk? What was going on here? My mind raced, looking for an angle and putting up shields all around in case of attack. “I usually don’t. Gina’s son was sick, so I offered to help.”
“That was nice of you.” His voice sounded as smooth as butter and as nonconfrontational as pink cotton candy.
I wasn’t buying his nice-guy act. There was something else brewing, and I just needed to wait out the pregame show to get to it. I lifted a shoulder and tossed the soaked wipe into a nearby trash can. “Yeah, well, if I was in her shoes, I’d want someone to help me, so I thought I would pitch in.”
Dr. Mitchell shifted his feet and tugged at his earlobe as if he wasn’t sure what to say next or where to go. I didn’t give in to my need to fill the silence with chatter like I usually did with patients. When people weren’t feeling good, it helped having someone talk to them as if life was okay.
Finally, Dr. Mitchell cleared his throat and said, “I don’t want to take up your valuable time. I just wanted to clear the air about what happened with Mr. McNabb.”
Here it comes,I thought. He was ready to chew me out for filing that complaint. I could argue with him, or I could take what he had to give and then let it fall out my other ear. Heaven knew I’d swallowed my share of doctors’ bad moods. Not that I was perfect by any means. I’d been known to snap a time or two—usually when I was on graveyards.Perfect.
I sucked in a breath and held it, willing him to get on with his lecture so I could get back to the part of my job I actually liked—taking care of patients.
“I want you to know that I would never intentionally try to hurt someone or deny them care.” His voice was even, calm, and warm, and it snuck right past several of my shields. A surprise attack would do that—I hadn’t anticipated him coming at me with this level of respect.
He continued, “I try my best to look at each individual person on a case-by-case basis and treat them the best I can. But there are also times when I feel that surgery would cause more harm than good. That was the case for Mr. McNabb. I felt that surgery would be putting his family through undue trauma and giving them hope that wouldn’t be realized because of his other medical conditions. I want you to know that I also didn’t intentionally mean to hurt anyone. I was being honest with my professional opinion.”
Wow. Just wow. I hadn’t heard him string together that many words in all the time I’d been at this hospital. I’d had no idea he’d thought that deeply about what had happened between us. From the way he’d brushed past me on several occasions, I’d assumed he’d just as soon swat away my existence in his circle of coworkers.
“I-I appreciate your frankness.” I hated that I’d stumbled over my words when he seemed to have a fountain of them inside.
