On Opposite Sides

by Walters, Janet Lane;

  Was it guilt that kept him from speaking? He shook his head. If the situation arose again, he would make the same decision. Until he had met her at the hospital picnic, he’d never questioned his judgment.

  He lifted the tray and carried the dessert to the bedroom. He stopped in the doorway and stared. She sat with her head pressed against her knees. Her hair cloaked her skin. He put the tray on the table between the chairs and got a tee shirt from the dresser.

  “Catch,” he called.

  She raised her head and stretched her arms to grab the shirt. He watched her pull it over her head, and for a moment regretted that her body had been covered. She slid

  out of bed.

  The shirt covered her buttocks and touched the top of her thighs. Her hair cascaded to her waist. He stared at her legs, remembering the softball game and the effect those incredible legs had had on him. Once again, he felt a surge of desire.

  “Dessert is served,” he said.

  She grinned. “Food or --” She studied the front of his robe. Her eyes shone with laughter.

  “Food for now. We’ve all night to explore our other appetites, or is Megan waiting upstairs to grill you about our dinner and me?”

  “Megan’s away for the weekend.” She picked up a cake plate, took a forkful and tasted. Her sigh of pleasure stirred him. “This is wonderful. If I hang around you very long, I’ll weigh a ton.”

  “What about the hundred thousand calories you recently expended?”

  He watched the way her mouth fit around the fork and the way her tongue flicked to catch a bit of filling at the corner of her mouth. So aware was he of her every movement that he finished the cake and coffee without tasting a thing.

  She scraped her plate and licked the fork. “Can I hire you as my chef?”

  “I’ll consider the proposition. How about as a house --” He nearly said husband, but stopped himself before the word slipped out. “...keeper. You should see the way I do beds.”

  Her laughter flowed over him like a gentle summer breeze. “I have. I’d say a one.”

  “One!” He raised an eyebrow.

  “One like in the countdown for the launch of a space ship.”

  “I see.” He wished the banter could continue, but he had to tell her of the time their pasts had touched.

  She rose and came to stand behind his chair. “You know, I think I know where there might be a copy of the will.”

  Her statement diverted him. “Where?”

  “In the hospital library. The librarian has been collecting material about the history of the hospital for years. He wants to write one of those commemorative books. Problem is the place is locked on weekends.”

  “Why?”

  “Missing books and periodicals.”

  He closed his eyes. “I think I can get us in.”

  “Is lock-picking another of your skills?”

  “I suppose I could give that a try, but I think there’s a key on the ring in my office. Finding the will should give me something to do tomorrow while you’re at work.”

  She put her hands on his shoulders. “Not fair. It’s my idea. Besides, you don’t know where to look. Meet me outside ICU at eight.”

  He shook his head. “At the library. That way we won’t be the center of speculation of questions.”

  “Good thought.”

  He rose and took her hands. He inhaled and prepared to tell her the secret he’d been hiding. “There’s something I want --”

  She ran her tongue over her lips. In that instant, he forgot what he’d planned to say. She stepped toward him. He released her hands and circled her waist with his arms. She parted the opening of his robe and ran her hands down his chest. The moment she touched him, all thoughts of anything but her and how closely attuned they were, fled. Her lips found his, nibbled and caressed. His tongue sought entry to her mouth and he tasted coffee, cinnamon and chocolate.

  With slow and measured steps, he backed to the bed. He sat on the edge. She stood between his legs and pushed his robe from his shoulders. Then she stripped off the tee shirt. He lay back, taking her with him. Her hair swept across his chest and curtained their faces.

  Her fingers kneaded his scar. She touched her tongue to the spot. He groaned. His hands massaged her smooth skin. Strands of her hair brushed his chest and tickled his face, creating an urgency he had to satisfy. He grasped her waist to lift her. She rolled off him and handed him a foil packet. Her eyes glazed with passion as she watched him put the condom in place.

  She pursued everything with an intensity that sometimes alarmed him. Would he ever get enough of her? That was his last thought before she covered his chest with kisses and nips and slowly lowered herself onto him. He grasped the tail of a whirlwind and rode a wild ride to completion.

  Once he caught his breath, he pulled the covers over them. He remembered what he had wanted to say but the satiation of his senses had stolen his ability to speak. She nestled against him. Her body felt like part of his. She murmured soft sounds he couldn’t decipher. Holding her in a tight embrace, he closed his eyes. Sleep came quickly.

  *****

  Jenessa roused and turned on her side to catch a few more minutes of sleep. She snuggled against the warm body next to hers. Was she dreaming? She reached her hand behind her and touched -- a warm body -- a nude warm body. Slowly, she rolled over and opened her eyes a slit.

  Eric, she thought. Memories of the incandescent love- making infused her thoughts. Sex with her husband had been exciting, athletic and had always left her with a nagging feeling that something was missing. Last night in Eric’s arms, she’d shattered and yet had been made whole. Without a word, he had known when and where to touch. His body had responded to her caresses in ways Chuck never had.

  She leaned on her elbow and studied his face, relaxed in sleep, yet still maintaining the rugged masculinity that had attracted her. She wanted to kiss him until he woke and took her into his arms, but she couldn’t. Last night, as she had drifted to sleep, she had whispered of her love. Had he heard her? She hoped not. He hadn’t promised her forever and her confession would reveal her dream of an eternity with him.

  Work, she thought. Her uniforms were upstairs. With a soft sigh, she slipped out of bed and reached for her jeans. How odd it felt to be dressing in a strange bedroom and searching for clothes that had been hastily tossed aside. She found her sweater. Where was her bra? She got on her hands and knees and pulled it from beneath one of the dressers.

  When she rose, she turned to look at the bed. Eric sat with the pillows behind him. “Were you leaving without saying goodbye?”

  She walked to the bed. The signs of his arousal brought a flash of white heat to her groin. She sat on the bed and moved into his arms. She brushed her hands down the sheet. “That will have to wait.”

  He groaned. “I know. You have to work.”

  She nodded. “And it’s too late to call in sick.”

  He kissed her chin and nibbled his way to her mouth. “Tonight at eight. Outside the library.”

  She nodded. “I’ll be there.” She kissed him once more and headed to the door.

  “Bring your clothes to work. In the morning, you can get ready here. I’ll help.”

  “And make me late.” She blew a kiss and closed the door. “I love you Eric Bradshaw,” she whispered. She swallowed. This time was different and when she stopped to think, she wondered if what she’d felt for Chuck had been love.

  There are many kinds of love, she decided. What she felt for Eric stretched to infinity. She smiled. The guilt she’d felt since Chuck’s death had been relegated to the past.

  She hurried upstairs, showered, packed an overnight case and dressed. As she ran across the street to the hospital, a silent countdown of the hours until she saw Eric again began.

  *****

  For Eric, the day dragged. In the morning, he finished his usual Saturday chores and went to the grocery store. He spent the afternoon organizing the information he and Jenessa had gle
aned from the minutes and what they had learned from other sources. Then he called his brother. The information on MASCHCO’s stockholders should be available by the end of the week. At seven, he walked across the street to the hospital to revise his schedule and see what day he could clear for a trip to the city.

  By seven thirty, he’d cleared Wednesday. Then he took a large ring of keys from the locked drawer in his desk and removed the one for the library. When he left the office, two of the evening supervisors were at their desks in the large outer office.

  “Good evening,” he said.

  Lorraine Rodgers gasped. “Mr. Bradshaw, what are you doing here?”

  “Paperwork.”

  She put her coffee cup on the desk. “Jenessa and her pickets were marching in front of the hospital again today. I saw them when I arrived.”

  “Are you sure you saw Jenessa?” Surely she wouldn’t have been foolish enough to leave ICU to parade in uniform. If Bishop or Sandra learned she’d left her patients, they could charge her with abandonment and fire her on the spot. There would be little he could do to help.

  “I didn’t exactly see her, but who else is forever stirring trouble?”

  “She wasn’t there,” the second supervisor said. “When I saw the pickets, I went to ICU before coming here. She was suctioning a patient.”

  Mrs. Rodgers shrugged. “Guess I was wrong, but we have to keep an eye on her. That’s what -- never mind.”

  “I’d like to hear your explanation,” Eric said.

  “Well, Sandra ordered me to report every time Jenessa makes the slightest misstep, and every time she says destructive things about the hospital and the Board.”

  The second supervisor nodded. “I don’t see why. Sure Jenessa’s intense and opinionated, but she’s also one of the best nurses here.”

  “She’s a trouble-maker,” Mrs. Rodgers said. “I’ve known that ever since she was a student in the bachelors’ program at Grantley.”

  “She’s not the only one we’re keeping tabs on,” the second supervisor said. “Sandra supplied us with a list.”

  “Who are they?” After the woman handed him a list that included most of the members of the negotiating committee, Eric groaned. “I don’t know what she’s after, but if these women learn, I can see the hospital being sued. This kind of surveillance and harassment will cease immediately. I’ll inform Ms. Wallace.”

  “But...but...” Mrs. Rodgers sputtered. “A person has to protect herself. Sandra’s going to be in charge here. Why should you care what happens? Everyone knows you’re planning to resign before you’re fired.”

  “Not for a long time.” If he left Eastlake, the choice would be his not Bishop’s. He strode to the door. “The meeting for the evening supervisors has been changed to Thursday at three. A memo will be send on Monday.” He closed the door and headed for the library.

  *****

  The minute she finished report, Jenessa headed for the locker room. She slipped on her jacket and pulled the overnight bag from the shelf. The outer door opened.

  Claire entered and reached for her time card. The skinny blonde looked at the bag in Jenessa’s hand. “What have we here? You going somewhere?” She smirked. “What will Eric think? I thought he was your current interest. Are you giving up on him because he’s resigning?”

  “No.”

  “So which of my questions are you answering? There’s no reason to pack a bag if you’re spending the night with him. After all, he lives downstairs from you.”

  “How true.” Jenessa bit back a sharp retort. Claire had no business prying. “Are you going to clock out or what? They sure aren’t going to pay us overtime.”

  “We need to have a little talk about the recent tactics of your committee -- like the pickets.”

  Jenessa grinned. “That idea really caught on. I understand there were a dozen off-duty nurses parading this afternoon. Look, I’ve got to pick up complaints.” She waved the overnight case.

  Claire blocked the door. “I don’t like you making decisions without consulting me.”

  “I didn’t make them unilaterally. A majority of the committee agreed. If you’re so concerned, the committee meets Tuesday at eight. My place. Why don’t you join us?”

  “I’ll be there.” Claire smiled. “You don’t understand. A strike vote is the only way to make them listen.”

  “They’re listening, but they don’t like what they hear. They want us to walk.”

  Claire’s smile made Jenessa believe more trouble was brewing. She punched her time card and headed for the stairs. Holding the door ajar, she watched until Claire vanished down the hall toward the lobby. Once Jenessa felt safe, she headed through the deserted office wing.

  Eric was leaned against the wall beside the library door. He looked at his watch. “You’re late.”

  “I was held captive by an irate union president.” She walked toward him. For a moment, she knew she didn’t care about the union, the contract or the will, only for this man. She stepped into his arms and raised her face for a kiss she felt to her toes.

  Business, she thought. First we search for a copy of the will. Then we can take our pleasure. She inched away and was pleased to see his face and his eyes reflected the same bemusement she felt.

  “The key,” she said.

  “The library. The will.” He dug in his pocket and unlocked the door. She reached for the light switch. He covered her hand with his. “Let’s not take the chance of someone learning we’re here.”

  She nodded and put her bag on the table near the window. “If Sandra took the copy of the will and gave it to Bishop, he might figure we’ve come here.” She led the way between the floor to ceiling stacks and paused in front of a long file where back issues of magazines were kept. She stooped and opened the bottom drawer. “In here you have the history of the hospital since it opened as a doctor’s clinic in 1890.”

  Eric knelt beside her. His lips brushed her cheek. “How did you learn about this?”

  “Curiosity. I used to haunt the place when I was a BS student. Mr. Higgins searched for articles when I had papers due. We became friends. He liked to talk and I enjoyed listening.” She turned and put her hands on Eric’s shoulders. She moved until their lips touched. The kiss rocked her and so did the evidence of his desire. Would the urgency to have him fill her ever lessen?

  He lifted his head. “The sooner we finish here, the sooner we’ll have time for us.”

  “My thoughts exactly. What year are we looking for? Mr. Higgins has all the material sorted.”

  “Around nineteen ten.”

  She shone her penlight on the neatly labeled folders and pulled out two. “Nineteen hundred to ten and ten to thirty. How are you going to see the files if we don’t turn on the lights?”

  He pulled a small flashlight from his pocket. “I came prepared.”

  She stroked his chest. “How nice.”

  He chuckled. “I’m not that prepared.”

  “Then we’d better get cracking.” She showered tiny kisses on his face.

  “Business,” he said. He took a file from her and sat with his back against one of the book shelves. She sat beside him and opened the second folder.

  A beam of light shone through the glass of the door. Jenessa froze. “We’re caught,” she whispered. “My bag’s on the table.”

  “Let’s hope the guard thinks someone forgot it.” He sat so his back was to the door and pulled her against his chest. “And let’s pray my dark clothes appear to be shadows.”

  The door rattled. She felt his pulse beat against her hands. The beam passed over them and, for a moment, focused on the shelves. Their lips met. Their tongues danced against each other. Her breasts felt tight and full. She craved the touch of his hands and mouth on them.

  The light disappeared. She sucked in a breath. “Let’s finish here before he returns.”

  “The clocks are punched every two hours,” Eric said. He nuzzled her neck and slid the zipper of her jumpsuit down. “W
e’ve time.”

  “The floor is hard and I’ve just finished a thirteen hour shift.”

  He caressed her breasts with his thumbs. “And protection is at the apartment.” He drew away and picked up the file.

  Did he think she had rejected him? Should she tell him she couldn’t, that she loved him and she always would? She opened her mouth to speak, but his whistle stopped her.

  “Found it. Last Will and Testament of Grace Eastlake. Hand me your case and I’ll stash it.”

  “Good idea.”

  While Eric put the papers in her overnight case, she returned the file to the cabinet. He reached for her hand. They walked to the door and left the library. She looked at him. “Can I interest you in dessert?”

  He shook his head. “I think I’m ready for a seven course meal.” He laughed. “I don’t know why we’re acting like a pair of mice. I have the keys to the library.”

  “The gossip factor,” she said. “Imagine what a tidbit this would be. If Mr. Bishop learns where we were, he’ll surely remember Mr. Higgins’ files.” She stopped. “I shouldn’t have mentioned him.” She pointed to the entrance. Bishop and Sandra strolled up the walk.

  “Let’s pretend we don’t see them.”

  “I can do that, but don’t for a moment think they’ll ignore us. Why don’t you go ahead and I’ll follow in ten minutes?”

  He gripped her hand. “We’ll face them together.”

  She felt a rush of warmth that had nothing to do with desire. “I wonder what they’re doing here tonight.”

  “Visiting someone?”

  “I don’t think so.” She grinned. “I bet they’re headed for the library.”

  “I’d like to see their faces when they find something’s missing.”

  The doors opened. Bishop and Sandra entered the lobby. The Board president beamed. “Well now, what do we have here?” He eyed Jenessa’s overnight case. “The pair of you eloping?”