Healing My Heart

by Barbra Campbell

  Our eyes locked as I walked across the circle, bypassing the last remaining gift on the floor in the middle of the group.

  A grin wide enough to be visible through his funny white beard and mustache melted my heart. Could have sworn his eyes twinkled when I stopped in front of him and reached for the gift. Dang gloves though. I’d wanted his hands on me again, but given the group setting, the casual graze would have to do.

  Mischief played over his expression. “You think your cat will like this?” His voice ripped through my core, weakening my knees but I had to parry his thrust.

  “I don’t have a cat.”

  His expression went dark, feeding my temptation to straddle his lap. The roar of laughter from the group reminded me to keep it clean-ish.

  Humor. Often safe to hide behind. My only option in this case amongst strangers.

  “Well then.” Cory’s gaze which had been unwavering, flitted awkwardly as he cleared his throat.

  Too much? Growing up in a big family had taught me to stand up for myself. “I didn’t take you as a cat person, you can pick a different gift.”

  He released his grip on the tongue and I winked before returning to my seat with the obnoxious present. When I’d bought it, I hadn’t expected to get that much mileage out of it.

  I’d gotten away from him in the nick of time. Heat flushed over my face. Any of the more prudish members of the group could be satisfied I had the decency to be embarrassed after the exchange. The more naughty-minded would understand exactly why I was flushed.

  Melissa patted my leg. “Nice.”

  She had no idea.

  Santa’s scanned each participant and the gift they held, smiling when he looked at my lap and the tongue, then continuing around the circle. Thank goodness the kids were in a different group, and were highly engaged judging by their bursts of laughter.

  Cory stood, rubbed his fingers over his beard then rested his hands on his belly. Stepping toward the center of the circle, he stopped in front of the last unopened gift. “This one would have to be pretty good to beat all of the others.”

  His gaze moved to someone holding a coffee mug shaped like a prescription bottle, then to a yodeling pickle, and then to me. First my hands and the gift, then slowly upward giving me time to lose my breath.

  Savoring the wickedly inappropriate second it took him to bring his eyes to mine, I gave him my sweetest smile.

  Like cogs of a gear clicking into place, we connected. Ninety-nine percent of the scenarios racing through my imagination were inappropriate. It hadn’t been that long since I’d last gotten my heart broken. Why was my libido rushing me toward another relationship? I didn’t need a rebound guy.

  “What kind of a Santa would I be if I left you with a gift you didn’t want.”

  Melissa gasped and her leg bounced. Guess it wasn’t going to bother her if the new girl in town swooped in and snatched up the hottie. But what did she know about him? We needed some girl time. Later. I had a lot of catching up to do.

  I hadn’t answered, and he swiped up the last wrapped box from the floor with both hands. Relief washed over me until he stepped my direction. Rubbing a hand down my pant leg, I pasted on a smile. My palms sweated. For the first time in history, I couldn’t wait for the game to end.

  He stepped forward and knelt in front of me. “Decisions, decisions. Would you rather…give me the tongue and steal something from one of these poor souls…” He cocked his head to the side, “or trust me when I promise you’ll be able to make good use of this gift.”

  Shit. The last gift was the one he brought?

  The lady running the swap tried to explain that’s not how it worked, but he waved her off.

  He was close, taunting, and so damn convincing. Mustering my finest attempt to appear unfazed, I extended the tongue with one hand and held the other palm up for the box.

  He shifted the decent sized box to one hand, took the tongue, and allowed me to grab his gift.

  I plopped it on my lap, forcing my hands to stay on the package instead of tickling his beard.

  Cory took one step backward allowing my tunnel vision to broaden.

  All attention was on me, an intimidating weight considering Cory remained standing, legs spread, arms crossed, and demand oozing from his pores. Was I the only one who noticed?

  Melissa nudged me. “Well, open it.”

  I swallowed my saliva to keep it from turning to drool. Refocused on the wrapping paper, I tore the package open while in some weird euphoric trance of Cory wanting me to have the present. A set of wine glasses and Glögg. Some kind of alcohol. A shiver of excitement ran through me.

  “Glögg, the alcoholic version, in case you have anyone you want to get liquored up.”

  I met his gaze, eager to meet his challenge. A giant mistake.

  The intense focus of his green eyes not only inhibited my ability to form a snappy comeback, but left me with the perception of nakedness. Not physically, although it wouldn’t have mattered. Emotionally vulnerable, as if he could read my desires, dreams, and fears. How the hell?

  He broke my trance. “You drink, don’t you?”

  Forcing my gaze all the way to the glögg, no stopping on his beard, I forced a smile. “I do, but I’m not familiar with this.”

  “My family’s Scandinavian favorite. Direct from Denmark.”

  Melissa leaned over and whispered, “He never respects the price limit on the gift exchange. Everyone sort of ignores it since he does the Santa thing for free.”

  I thanked Melissa and slipped the box top back onto the present. “Thanks. I have someone in mind.”

  The darn twinkle returned. Had he mastered Santa? He raised an eyebrow.

  “Someone I met at the rec center.”

  His lips parted, and I bit my lower lip in anticipation of his response.

  With a flurry of chatter, kids rushed into the adult circle, extending the gifts they’d ended up with. Happiness on most faces, but a few were clearly not humored. A steady barrage of kids insisted on showing Santa their wares. Our moment was over.

  Giving Cory space to be Santa, I helped Melissa put the chairs back at the tables. When things settled, I could ask him to introduce me to the proper etiquette for his family’s beverage.

  Counting out the proper number of chairs around a table, I paused to watch Cory. He busted me and offered a head nod, fanning the hope we stood a chance to hang out after the party.

  One of the attendees wore a short, low-cut dress about three clicks sexier than what anyone else had on. Melissa had confirmed Jessi was not new, and had been completely aware of the family nature of the party. No one seemed fazed by her evocative nature, and her flitting from one single man to the next might have been caused by continually getting brushed off rather than being a social butterfly.

  I’d worked with her type before. On the hunt to tie up a doctor. When Melissa finished introducing me to everyone, it occurred to me she’d bypassed Jessi. Just as well.

  With all of the festivities drawing to a close, families were bundling their kids and saying their goodbyes. The hospital’s reputation for being a close-knit family-oriented community held up. Exactly the kind of place I wanted to work.

  Not that I was pure and wholesome, the idea I had for giving Santa a reason to say ‘Ho-Ho-Ho’ would clarify that.

  Several families said good-bye to me, and in a blink, the ballroom had largely cleared out. The clean-up committee was boxing decorations. The new girl could have made a stellar impression by helping, but unless Santa was on the clean-up crew, I had other plans.

  I spied Cory tying up his bag by the Santa chair and made my way over. My one-track mind kept me from noticing Jessi approaching from the side until she literally had her hands on him.

  Stopping dead in my tracks, my mouth dropped open. She’d come from behind him, slipped one hand onto his shoulder, leaned forward, and whispered into his ear.

  He said something to her then looked toward the back of the room.
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  She grabbed the bag and trailed her hand down his arm, grabbing his fingers, guiding him toward the back door.

  Were they leaving together?

  Cory pulled the bag from her and tossed it over his shoulder, picking up his pace. My favorite part was that in doing so he got his hand out of hers.

  What was going on? She didn’t have a coat on. They weren’t leaving.

  The sway of Jessi’s hips made it look like she was taking him for some private time. She glanced over her shoulder, right at me.

  I hadn’t budged.

  A huge grin took over her face, filling me with concern, but her wink was like a haphazard removal of a Jenga block. My insides crumpled.

  Regret dragged me down. Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I watched a second longer while she motioned down the side hallway I’d assumed was for catering staff.

  My gut instinct about them sneaking off revisited in the form of nausea. I spun around, considered leaving the gift Cory specifically wanted me to have, then decided I could use it to drown my sorrows.

  I dashed to my car. Gritted teeth helped hold off the tears of frustration, not at him, but at myself for falling for the first guy who caught my attention. I’d never done that before. Never experienced what I would have called love at first sight, so much for that fantasy.

  Of course, the gorgeous, philanthropic, physically fit man I’d swooned over was also a player. To answer my own question…maybe he was good at everything.

  Chapter 4

  Cory

  A solo racquetball practice session, wasn’t enough to get Romy off my mind. If I was the type to get embarrassed, the moment in the gift swap when I couldn’t walk away, and my ensuing comment about getting someone liquored up, would have done it. But I wasn’t the easily embarrassed type.

  When I said something I meant it, and when I wanted something I generally got it.

  Romy was the first woman in a long time who’d left me wanting something other than work. And her comment about sharing the grögg with the guy she’d met at the rec center had left me even more shocked than the strange mix of emotions already swirling through me. I’d assumed she’d meant me. Despite my hormones egging me on to go full throttle with her, my rational side warned me to take it slow. Relationships weren’t in my plan.

  I’d found out she was a new nurse at the hospital, rather than being at the party with someone and was torn whether I considered it good or bad news. Aside from her racquetball champion status, I questioned why I was so attracted to her. Hot body, smart mouth, and seductiveness aside.

  Everything had seemed fine between us then she’d left the party without saying goodbye. I slammed the ball with all my might. Something had to relieve the tension she’d created inside of me. The ball ripped from wall to wall, but offered nothing to calm me.

  I’d put in more hours at the rec center in the last two days than was healthy, but damn confidentiality policies at the hospital and rec center kept me from coming up with a way to contact her.

  My chest tightened every time I thought of her sharing the grögg with any of the other guys from the rec center. Surely she wouldn’t have made that comment if she hadn’t meant me.

  Wrapping up and hanging out at the front desk, I was able to sweet talk the receptionist to look at Romy’s check-in history. She hadn’t checked in since the tournament. None of it made any sense. I headed to my car so the receptionist wouldn’t think I was pissed at her.

  Was Romy busy getting some loser drunk, and getting fucked by the wrong guy?

  I slammed my head against the headrest. Had I done myself a favor by focusing on my job? Women complicated things. This wicked jealous streak wasn’t going to do me any good, so why couldn’t I shake it?

  Rubbing one out in the shower hadn’t gotten me over the elusive Romy, who I’d learned was really named Andromeda. Even more intriguing. I had to get my head on straight or I’d scare her by acting like a horny caveman and drag her off by the hair on her first day at work. Fuck. Was it better to hope our shifts overlapped on her first day or would it be better if they didn’t?

  The only good news was I had a full day of consultations and no surgeries. If I made a mistake it was easier to fix.

  ***

  Arriving at the hospital, finishing my rounds, I headed to three south, the floor where Romy was scheduled.

  The nurse’s station was visible the elevators, and there stood Romy reading a chart. My nerves reared. I paused long enough, the doors to the elevator almost closed before I exited. She was a person. I could handle talking to her.

  Striding toward the desk, I remembered I wasn’t approaching Romy in a vacuum. Other nurses were working, and while they knew me, I rarely made surprise appearances on the main floor.

  I stopped beside her and leaned against the counter. “Hey Romy, how’s your first day going?”

  Her mouth dropped open while she surveyed me. Her eyes settled on my name badge. “Hi, um, it’s fine. You’re a surgeon?” The pitch of her voice escalated.

  Surprise? I guess we hadn’t done formal introductions. I extended a hand to break the weird tension she was giving off. “Yeah, pediatrics. Doctor Cory Larsen.”

  Romy gripped the file with both hands. “I better go check his vitals.” She waved the chart between us and dashed off.

  Melissa was sitting at the computer a few feet away and mumbled, “Not how I expected her to react.”

  I leaned toward Melissa. “Me either. First day jitters?”

  “Romy’s great. Breezed in here like she owned the place. That’s the first time she’s seemed nervous. Something happen between you two?” Melissa winked.

  My stare lingered down the hallway where Romy had gone. “I haven’t seen her since the gift swap.”

  Melissa laughed, “A priceless moment. You were only moderately intimidating.” She straightened and gave the impression Romy was back.

  I glanced over my shoulder.

  Romy detoured behind the counter, fussing with patient charts as if I wasn’t there.

  Melissa was right. I’d come on pretty strong. “Romy, can I have a minute.”

  She stilled.

  I stared at her back, trying to act casual but my mind suddenly picked up every light, sound, and movement around me. What was she waiting for? Plenty of scenarios where seconds felt like hours had crossed my path, and this moment was right up there.

  She faced me, clutching a folder to her chest. “Need help with a patient?”

  I wanted to circle the counter, stand closer to her, hold her in my arms. Work and personal separation had never been an issue for me, but Romy made the distinction blur. “I was going to see if you wanted to meet at the rec center tonight. I have a court reserved at eight.”

  “I don’t date doctors,” she blurted out.

  “You should give this one a shot,” Melissa added, maintaining focus on her computer to the point I wouldn’t have believed she spoke except for her grin.

  “Thanks Melissa, but slow down, ladies.” The exchange had caught me off guard.

  Worry filled Romy’s expression. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

  Melissa stifled a laugh but didn’t offer anything.

  “This is simply one racquetball champion wanting a good challenge with the other. And there’s no girlfriend.”

  Romy furrowed her brow then flipped through the papers in the chart. “We should keep our relationship professional.”

  “We can talk shop while we play.”

  Melissa spun her chair and rolled to Romy. In a fake whisper, completely audible, she said, “I’m going to let you in on a secret. We’re always trying to set Cory up, but no one’s ever made it past a first date. And despite him saying this isn’t a date, you’re the first person I’ve ever seen him initiate anything with.”

  I wasn’t sure what to make of Melissa’s insight.

  Romy peered over the top of the chart at her. “I really don’t date doctors.”

  Melissa star
ted to say something, but I cut her off. “I can handle this.” I shifted my gaze to Romy. “Do you have a policy against playing racquetball with them?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll be at the court at eight.” With a wave, I headed to the stairwell.

  Chapter 5

  Romy

  I don’t date doctors. I repeated my mantra while changing into workout clothes. Cory was a surgeon. Even worse. Why the hell was I at the rec center meeting him for racquetball? At the party, he’d ogled at me like I was everything he wanted, then ran off with Jessi. In case there had been any chance he managed to be my type despite being a doctor, their little rendezvous ruined it.

  If I didn’t want stiffer competition for practice, I would have turned him down. And I continued to lie to myself. Did I need a reminder of why I steered clear of men with God complexes?

  When I got to the court, he was already warming up and I stayed at a distance, losing myself in his masculinity. His muscles flexed and his skin was already flushed. I didn’t date doctors, but not everything had to lead to a relationship. That kind of thinking was asking for trouble.

  A ball flew toward the glass wall between us causing him to pivot. He swiped at the shot but completely missed, heading to the door instead.

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d come,” he said, no greeting, no handshake.

  A small part of me deflated at the impersonal comment. I don’t date doctors. I shouldn’t require a damn reminder. “Nothing better to do.”

  “Ready?” He stepped to the service line and held the ball up.

  What? No clever comment? No playfulness? I cursed myself for pretending my insides didn’t get fluttery around him. I cursed him for being professional, like I’d asked. I widened my stance. “Show me what you’ve got.”

  The ball fell from his fingers and he retrieved it.

  My comment hadn’t been lost, but if I didn’t want a relationship, I would have to cool it.

  The ball whizzed off the wall straight toward me. I scrambled to return the shot and our rally helped settle me. Finally, a worthy opponent. We read each other’s moves and fell into an easy rhythm.