I wanted her to keep clinging to me.
I took stock of her beautiful body. Of the deep dip in her waist and the luscious flare of her hips. I could see marks I’d left on her neck the other night and it made me grin. A remembrance of me she would take in before her day began. I walked out to the living room and dug my cell phone out of my pocket, then silenced the alarm before I closed her bedroom door.
I could clean up a little bit at her kitchen sink before I left.
I used some of her dish soap and cleaned my face down a little bit. I washed my hands and looked around for a washcloth of some sort, trying to bathe myself as best as I could. I didn’t have time to get back to my apartment. I only had time to get to work. But my brain was still foggy. Clouded with the taste of her arousal that melted on the tip of my tongue. I looked over at her coffee pot and grinned. That would help get me going.
It would help get both of us going.
I dried myself off with some paper towels before putting my clothes back on. Then, I got to work on making a pot of coffee. I grabbed one of her travel mugs and left her a note that I would be sure to return it, then I left a mug and a spoon out for her to use when she woke up. I took my coffee black. It was the only thing that helped me to wake up in the mornings. I sipped on it as I grabbed my things, mainly my keys and my wallet. I took one last look at her closed bedroom door and smiled, then I headed for my car.
“Doctor Anderson! Thank God you’re here,” Mary said.
“Do you guys just fall apart when I’m not around?” I asked.
“Basically. There’s a kid in E.R. room nine. Came in with a bloodied forehead and we can’t get anywhere near him with a needle to numb him up so we can stitch him up.”
“Let me guess. The mother isn’t being very helpful?” I asked.
“The father isn’t, no. Mom’s actually toughing it out. Willing to hold down the child and everything. Dad’s the one throwing a stink.”
“Let me handle it,” I said.
I grabbed a tablet and looked at it as I walked towards the E.R. room. I tossed back the last of the coffee, then set it at my station as I walked by. My eyes scanned the records. The small boy had an extensive history with the hospital. Stitches. Dislocated joints. A couple of bones that had been broken and re-broken.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I approached the room.
“Hello, I’m Doctor Anderson, and I’ll-”
“When can we leave?”
My eyes slowly panned up to the man and I took stock of him. Tall. Lean. With a very stern look on his face. I knew there was no possible way the man could be as old as he looked, and from the smell of tobacco and alcohol on him I figured he probably wasn’t. He looked sixty, but he was probably more around forty. My eyes trailed over to the mother and she sighed before the whimpering of the young boy caught my ears.
“Hello there,” I said. “I’m Doctor Anderson. What's your name?”
“Trent,” the man said.
“I was talking to the boy,” I said.
The man grunted and shook his head before he walked to the head of his son’s bed. But the second his hand came down onto the boy’s hair to stroke it out of his face, Trent flinched.
And so did the mother.
“Looks like you took a fall,” I said to Trent. “What happened?”
His eyes looked over at his father before they came back to me.
“I fell off the porch,” Trent said.
“Did you trip?” I asked.
“Does that have anything to do with patching him up?” the father asked.
“If you would let us patch him up, then no. But I hear you’re being a little combative, so maybe if I get to know your family a little bit you’ll be more trusting of the expertise of his hospital,” I said.
“Just a few butterfly band aids is all the boy needs,” the man said.
“I can see his skull from here,” I said flatly.
“Please just help us,” the woman said. “We only got the bleeding to stop a few minutes ago.”
“The skin of the forehead has a lot of small blood vessels, so that doesn’t surprise me,” I said.
The young boy started whimpering again and it broke my heart. I rolled a tray over to his side and sat down as his eyes welled with tears. The father refused to move and my eyes connected with his again, but he soon backed down. He moved over to the foot of the bed and reached for his wife, then yanked her towards him a little more harshly than I enjoyed.
“Must’ve been some fall off the porch,” I said.
“Uh-huh,” Trent said as I filled a syringe with some numbing fluid.
“Were you playing a game?” I asked.
“Can we get this over with?” the father asked.
“If you’re not quiet I’ll have you removed from the premises,” I said curtly. “Now stand there and let me do my job.”
“Then do it faster,” the man said.
“What were you playing?” I asked as I stood from my seat.
“Please don’t give me a shot,” Trent said.
“How about this. Count to five for me. And before you get to five, I’ll be done and you won’t feel a thing around this nasty little site. Okay?”
“Only five?” he asked.
“Only five,” I said.
“Okay. One… two… three…”
I pricked the needle in six different places in the blink of an eye. The boy flinched every time the needle came into contact with his skin, but other than that he was fine. He was clenching my white coat so hard his hand was shaking. He was so brave.
But a woman shrieking and a loud crash forced my head to whip around.
“Gerald!”
“Dad?” the boy asked.
I saw the man on the floor, unconscious. Without any rhyme or reason to why he passed out.
I pressed the red emergency button and nurses came rushing in. They got the man on a gurney and wheeled him out while the mother cried in the corner. I looked back at the small boy and he watched his father being wheeled out of the room, and I could’ve sworn I saw relief cascade over his features.
“Let me stitch you up and then you’ll be ready to go,” I said.
Six stitches later and the boy was ready to go. I took off my gloves and sent Mary for his discharge papers, then I went to go find that man. Nurses and doctors were rushing around him, trying to figure out what the hell was going on with him.
But he was whisked away to imaging before I could get a good look at him.
“I’ve got the boy’s discharge papers,” Mary said.
“Let me see them,” I said.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“I want to talk to them before they leave,” I said.
I grabbed the papers and slipped back into emergency room nine. The mother was holding her son as they sat perched on the side of the bed and her head whipped over to me.
“What happened to my husband?” she asked.
I sat down onto a rolling chair before I handed her the discharge papers.
“We’re not sure. He’s in imaging right now, which means his doctors are going to be running some tests. Probably for the rest of the day,” I said.
The woman nodded as she cradled her son closer.
“If anything comes back on those tests, he’ll be here overnight,” I said.
“Overnight?” the woman asked.
“All night, ma’am. And even if he isn’t, the tests will take at least four or five hours. Then we’ll have to review them. Then discharge him. He’ll easily be here for the next nine or ten hours,” I said.
“Nine or ten hours.”
“Long enough for you and your son to do… whatever you wanted,” I said.
Her head whipped over to me and I met her gaze.
“Long enough for you and your son to go,” I said.
I watched her look down at Trent as tears welled in her eyes. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a pamphlet I picked up from my desk on m
y way back to the room. I handed it to her and she looked down at it just before a tear fell from her cheek.
“The number of a police officer I trust is on the back of that,” I said. “You’ve got a ten hour headstart in front of him, at least. But if you get into any trouble at all, you call him and tell him Doctor Anderson gave you his number. He’ll take care of you.”
She nodded quickly as more tears fell from her eyes and I made my way out of the room.
I hopped from room to room, settling limbs of college students who were doing stupid shit throughout the day and taking care of sick babies as they came pouring through the front doors. Allergy season was upon us, and everyone thought their kids were dying. I looked up every once in a while to see if that woman and her son would leave the hospital. Take me up on my offer and what I had insinuated to her and her son.
And when they walked by me with the pamphlet in her hand, I sighed with relief.
“Good work, Dr. Anderson,” Mary said.
“Make sure we hold that man as long as we possibly can,” I said.
“Don’t worry. We won’t have to. He’s got a blood clot in his brain. He damn near stroked out in the middle of the room.”
I never thought I’d be so thankful for anyone to have a stroke.
The rest of the day was spent in a haze. Once I got that boy and his mother out of my head, Ivy came and flooded the empty spaces. I wondered how she was doing. If her day was as eventful as mine had been. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. About the night we had spent together.
Are you busy tonight? I thought I could take you out to dinner. It’s not a home-cooked meal, but I know a place that has a great exotic menu.
I sent off the text message before I carried on with my day. But I didn’t have to wait long for her response.
I wish I could. That sounds wonderful. But I have to work tonight.
Ah, the perils of being an adult. Such is life.
You could come to the fashion show after-party with me, if you wanted. It’s not exotic, but there will be drinks and foods and dancing. You like dancing, right?
If it’s up against you, of course.
I sat down in a corner with a cup of coffee for my ten minute break as my phone rang out with her messages.
Then it’s settled. You’re coming with me to the after-party. I’ll pick you up around ten tonight?
You pick me up? First I have to compete with all the male models and now you’re making me ride in the passenger’s seat?
There’s no competition between you and the male models. Anything you wear you’ll look fabulous in. Especially if it matches the floors of my apartment.
I think our clothes matched very well last night.
I sipped on my coffee and grinned as I drew in a deep breath.
I’m not sure about that. I couldn’t keep my eyes open half the time. A testament to your skills, good sir.
Good sir? Did we jump back to the middle ages?
Is that something they said in the middle ages? I thought it was something like ‘dilly dilly! Your mother’s a hamster and your father smells of elderberries!’ Or something like that.
A cook, a great kisser, and a Monty Python lover? I’ll gladly ride in the passenger’s seat for that kind of woman.
Come with me tonight, Dean. Wear one of those fantastic suits of yours. I won’t be able to take my hands off you if you do.
Then it sounds like I’ll be wearing a suit.
I finished off the rest of my coffee before I put my phone back on silent. I had to get back to work and close out my shift. But now, I had something to look forward to.
After a wild night of great food and wanton passion, I was going to get to see Ivy again.
And I couldn’t wait to see what kind of outfit she’d be dressed in.
Chapter Thirteen
Ivy
“Take those out first.”
“No, no, no. The spinach cheese puffs don’t go out yet.”
“Champagne! Those glasses are for the champagne!”
“Seriously? We’re already out of the white wine? So who’s making the store run, because I specifically ordered forty bottles. Not four!”
“I’ll take the tray if you don’t want to and you can see yourself to the door. Come on, guys. What in the world is happening?”
I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off. The fashion show had been a great success, but the after-party was leaving much to be desired. Someone skimped on the catering service, so all of the waiters and waitresses didn’t know what the fuck they were doing. I was trying to run point and get them all in line that I had to text Dean and tell him where to show up. Which made me feel like shit.
“The empty drink glasses aren’t going to collect themselves!” I exclaimed.
And then, as if he knew I needed him at that second, Dean appeared up the stairs.
The after-party was on top of a restaurant. Rented out for those who attended the show. And it had beautiful views of the city. The stars twinkled in the nighttime sky as the blanket of black draped over the city, matching my dress perfectly. It was black and form-fitting. A sleeveless design that dipped between my breasts and almost down to my belly button. The fabric slid along my body and glittered with its sheen whenever the moonlight hit it just right.
And Dean’s blacked out suit matched me perfectly.
He was a dream. A black suit tailored perfectly to his broad form and a black button-down that pulled ever-so-slightly at the muscles of his thick chest. His slim black tie only served to accent how massive the man was compared to everyone else, and his green eyes pierced me from across the room. All black. All man. And hungry for attention.
He strode for me, his hands in his pockets as I stood there breathless.
“I see great minds think alike,” Dean said as he approached me.
“I figured maybe you were simply mimicking me and my wonderful ideas,” I said.
“You look marvelous, Ivy.”
“And you look more handsome than any man on this rooftop.”
He offered his arm to me and I slipped mine within it. The way the crook of my arm settled against his felt wonderful. I gravitated to him in ways I’d never gravitated to another man. It felt right to be there with him. Underneath the stars in matching outfits with nothing but the moon looking down upon us. I felt comforted whenever he was around, and soon the worries of the after-party fell to the back of my mind.
Everything felt right now that Dean had arrived.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up,” I said.
“Don’t worry. It gives me an excuse to drive you home,” he said.
I grinned up at him before my eyes caught sight of my friends.
Grace and Emilia had come with their husbands. Hayden and Tristan were in the corner talking about something and my two friends were eyeing me carefully. I looked up at Dean and he looked down at me, then he smiled before he nodded towards the corner.
“Friends of yours?” he asked.
“They are, yes.”
“You can go speak with them if you want.”
“Will you come with me?”
Usually, that was a huge step for me. Introducing a man to Grace and Emilia. But it didn’t feel like a big step with Dean. It felt like that was how it was supposed to be. He nodded his head and a smile crossed my cheeks, then I led us over-- arm in arm-- to where the four of them were standing.
“Everyone enjoying the wine?” I asked.
“You know what I am enjoying?” Emilia asked. “This dress on you. Where did you get it?”
“It’s been jammed into the back of my closet for years now,” I said.
“Well I’m glad you busted it out, because it looks stunning on you,” Grace said.
“Doctor Anderson!”
My head whipped up as Hayden and Tristan made their way over.
“Hayden Lowell. It’s good to see you on your feet,” Dean said with a smile.
Dean slid his arm fro
m me as he shook Hayden’s hand before clapping his back. I furrowed my brow in confusion and looked over at the girls, but all they did was shrug their shoulders.
“Do you two know one another?” I asked.
“Not personally,” Dean said. “But I was the trauma doctor in the E.R. the day this man came in from his accident.”
“Wait, you were the doctor who kept watch over him?” Grace asked.
“And you must be Grace,” Dean said as she shook her hand. “There are a few priceless stories that worked their way around the hospital about how you strong-armed Mr. Lowell into straightening up.”
“Please, call me Hayden. And yes, those stories would be true.”
I stood there in shock while Emilia laughed at me.
“I can’t believe you guys know each other,” I said.
“Well, not in the personal sense,” Dean said. “But really, Hayden. It’s good to see you on your feet.”
“Thank you for all you did for me in the hospital. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your quick thinking,” Hayden said.
“And Grace’s care. Don’t forget about that,” Dean said.
“Don’t worry. I thank her everyday for it.”
Grace’s cheeks flushed and I giggled as I shook my head.
“So what brings you out to this after-party? I don’t think I saw you at the show,” Tristan said.
“I was invited by Ivy to come out. I wanted to take her out for dinner, but she roped me into her plans instead,” Dean said.
“Sounds about like Ivy,” Tristan said. “So how do you two know one another?”
“He came to that fashion show at The High Line a couple of weeks back. We met there,” I said.
“Is this a date?” Emilia asked with a grin.
“Yes, it’s a date,” I said. “At least, I think it’s a date.”
“I hope it’s a date,” Dean said. “Otherwise I wore my g-string for nothing.”
Everyone laughed, and I watched as he offered me his arm again. I slid my grasp back into his and leaned into his strength a little bit. It was funny, the kind of small world we lived in. The six of us stood around and talked as trays passed by. Drinks and snacks and puff pastries and small desserts. I popped some into my mouth and grabbed a drink or two, dumping my glasses as quickly as they came by.
Falling Into You: The Complete Naughty Tales Series Page 42