Fever

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Fever Page 6

by Carnal, MJ


  “Just get my ass home in one piece and stop talking nasty.”

  Sometimes I wanted to punch him, but I loved the big bastard too much to bloody his face.

  “Just don’t wreck her,” I said as he pulled into traffic.

  “I should’ve been an Indy driver. I feel the need, the need for speed,” he hollered as he gunned it.

  “Shut the fuck up and drive,” I mumbled before closing my eyes, not really wanting to watch his idea of NASCAR.

  Chapter 7

  Throwing down my bag, I reached over the counter and grabbed the phone. Cammie was busy helping a patient book their next appointment.

  “Hello?” I said as I surveyed the crowded waiting room.

  “I need an appointment as soon as possible,” the lady yelled in the phone, panic evident in her voice. “There’s something wrong with my baby.”

  “Is the baby able to breath?”

  “Yes,” she cried. “She has a fever and is coughing, help me.”

  “How high is the fever?”

  “103.1.”

  “Bring her in right away. I’ll see you immediately. Hurry.”

  “Thank you,” she said before the line went dead.

  “Girl, you know were booked. Whatcha doin’?” Cammie, the slightly round and always bubbly receptionist, asked.

  “It’s a mom, Cam. You know I can never say no when there’s a kid involved.”

  “Oh Lord, child. Are you going to have time to see her with all this?” She waved her hand toward the waiting room and grimaced.

  “Yes, Cammie, I’ll make the time. Let me know as soon as she gets here. I’m going to put everything away and I’ll come grab a chart.”

  “It’s a full house today. I brewed a fresh pot of coffee—from the looks of you, you’ll need it.” Cammie felt like a fill-in for my mom when she wasn’t around.

  “Glad to know I look like shit, Cam,” I said. “Thanks.”

  “Not shit, just tired, Mia. I know you don’t sleep well; that’s why I always have a fresh pot on hand when you’re here. Now, get your butt to work, Mia.” She swatted my ass. “We have souls to heal.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I put away the free medication I was able to score courtesy of the pharmaceutical rep that visited the hospital this week, before grabbing a chart off the counter and diving right in.

  “Mr. Needlemyer,” I said from the doorway.

  He looked up at me and a smile broke out across his face. “Ah, Dr. G,” he said as he pushed himself off the chair, struggling with the simple task. “Looking beautiful as always.”

  “How are you feeling, Mr. N?” I asked, as he approached.

  “Like an old fart.” He snorted.

  “I hope I look half as good as you when I’m your age.” I smiled at him, patting him on the shoulder.

  “Eh, looks are deceiving. My insides are worn out, but if I were just a few years younger…” He gave me a wink.

  I slapped his knee as he sat down on the exam table. “Mr. N., come on now.”

  Since the first day I met him, he’d flirted with me… relentlessly.

  “So tell me, how are you really feeling? Any problems like dizziness, fatigue, or any changes since last time I saw you?” I flipped through his chart, checking his vitals from his last visit.

  “I feel about as good as I can for a man my age. Nothing new to report, doc. Right as rain.”

  I listened to his heart, checked his lungs, and felt his lymph glands before I wrote a refill for his blood pressure and cholesterol pills.

  He sat on the exam table and watched me as he fidgeted with his hands.

  “Something you want to ask me, Mr. N?”

  “Well, um, kind of. I’ve been seeing this special lady. I wanted to talk to you about that little blue pill. Can I take it?”

  “Do you need it? That’s the more important question.” I inched closer to him so we could talk a bit quieter. “Do you have a problem getting and maintaining an erection?”

  His face turned pink as he looked away, momentarily avoiding my gaze. “I don’t think so, but it’s been so long since I’ve been with a woman. My wife died over five years ago. I don’t know if the ol’ pipes still work,” he said, giving me a weak smile.

  “Ever had any trouble in the past?”

  “Never.” He shook his head, looking down.

  “With your medical history, I wouldn’t feel comfortable prescribing it. If you have trouble with your lady, call me and I’ll help you out.”

  “Doc, be still my beating heart.”

  “You know what I mean, Mr. Needlemyer.” I blushed.

  Did men ever lose their dirty minds?

  “I do. If I have any problems with,” he said, coughing, “I’ll call you.”

  “Here are your refills, and I’ll see you next month; just make an appointment with Cammie on your way out.”

  “Wishful thinking at my age.”

  “You’ll be fine,” I said as I laid my hand on his. A knock on the door made him jump. “Yes?” I called out.

  “The mother is here with her child,” Cammie yelled through the door.

  “Coming,” I said. “Mr. Needlemyer, I need to go, but remember to call me if you have any problems.” I closed the chart and stood.

  “Go ahead, doc. I’ll be fine.”

  “Thanks, Mr. N.” I waved to him as I shut the door and headed to the waiting room.

  I knew there was joy in motherhood, but I’d always seen the other side, where children are sick or injured, and the panic in the mothers’ eyes. I wasn’t ready to become a mother, not yet. I had a career to focus on and a life to live before I invited a bundle of joy into my life.

  After examining the baby and determining that she had a lung infection, I gave the mother antibiotics and directions to help her breathe easier. She left the clinic feeling relieved and looking calm.

  The rest of the day was a blur—countless patients with various illnesses. At four o’clock the waiting room had finally emptied. I’d been so busy I didn’t spend much time thinking about Michael.

  I had a couple hours to get ready for him to pick me up. It’d been a long time since I’d been on a real date.

  I wondered sometimes why men didn’t ask me out, or never called me for a second date. I think I’m a good catch. I have my shit together…maybe a little too together and independent for some guys.

  “Where you rushing off to, doc?” Cammie asked as I tried to sneak out the door.

  “I just have some things to do,” I replied, stopping in the doorway.

  I never was a good liar.

  I could see the giant smile spread across her face. She slammed her hand on the desk and began to laugh. “You go, girl. I want all the details. Shoo now,” she said, waving her hands at me.

  I blew her a kiss, stepped out into the warm sunshine, and felt a sense of renewed hope.

  The clinic didn’t leave me zapped of energy and emotionally drained like the hospital.

  I twirled the razor in my hand and debated with myself about shaving. If I shaved, I felt like I hoped the night would end with a roll in the hay. If I didn’t shave, it guaranteed that I wouldn’t commit a carnal sin.

  Running my fingers over my shin, I could feel the prickle of hair. I sighed and caved, deciding to forgo the European look.

  I carefully shaved, then rinsed out the heavy conditioner in my hair before climbing out of the shower. The mirror had fogged over, and I opened the door to let in some of the cool air. I had one hour to blow dry, do my makeup, and get dressed.

  I towel dried my hair a little first before walking into my closet to pick out something sexy, as Michael had requested. I found the perfect little black dress that had a very low-cut back and stopped just below the knee. It showed just the right amount of cleavage, but it wasn’t trampy. It made people stop and stare.

  I wanted his eyes on me tonight, and no one else.

  I did my best to do a smoky eye, as they call it in all the fa
shion magazines. I dried my hair before finishing the rest of my makeup.

  As the minutes ticked away, my heart started to pound. I could feel my blood pressure rising. I felt flushed and clammy.

  I blotted the thin layer of dampness from my skin just before six and then pulled the dress over my head carefully before strapping on my favorite black heels with the red bottoms.

  The day I was able to afford to buy myself a pair was the day I knew I could take care of myself—I’d arrived and stood on my own two feet.

  I looked in the mirror one last time and turned around, making sure my underwear didn’t show and that everything was in the right place.

  “It’s just a date. I got this.” My pep talk helped a little, until the doorbell rang. I’d never really felt nervous on a date before, but there was something different about him.

  “Coming,” I yelled, as I walked through the house, grabbing my purse and keys.

  I opened it to the stunning man leaning against the doorframe, with the sexiest grin on his face.

  He whistled, his eyes raking over my body before landing on my face. “Fucking beautiful. Turn around,” he said, twirling his finger in the air. “Absolutely stunning.” He held his hand out.

  “Thank you. You’re looking pretty damn good yourself.”

  He did, too. Wearing a sky-blue dress shirt, tucked into his black pants, the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. He looked like he just stepped out of GQ magazine.

  His mouth enveloped mine as soon as I locked the door and faced him. Pulling my body against him, claiming my lips with as much fervor as he had the night before, he stole my breath. His hand on the small of my back felt like a hot iron against my skin, searing into me.

  “Ready?” he asked, as he released me.

  “Yes,” I said, a little too breathily.

  He helped me into his pick-up truck before closing the door and jogging around to the driver side. The truck was modern and decked out. It wasn’t a redneck truck but a total boy toy, black and trimmed in chrome.

  “Where are we headed?” I asked, pulling my dress down to my knees.

  “Sunset Beach for dinner.” He adjusted and gripped the steering wheel tightly as he glanced at my legs.

  “There isn’t a restaurant there.”

  “I know.” Resting his arm behind my head, he backed out of the drive.

  I uncrossed my legs and shifted in my seat, and he glanced down before looking back toward the road.

  “What did you do today?” he asked.

  “Worked at the free clinic in town, and you?”

  “I worked out and went to the shop for a couple hours. Tell me about the clinic.”

  I told him about the work we did, and the residents in the county that lacked simple things like medicine and insurance. He listened intently and asked questions throughout our conversation.

  “Kids too?” he asked with a furrowed brow.

  “They’re the saddest to see.” I frowned, looking out the window.

  He rested his hand on my knee and squeezed, causing a wave of warmth to emanate through my body. “I never knew there was such a problem.”

  “Homelessness and poverty is pervasive in this area, Michael. Underemployment is almost an epidemic.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” His eyes were soft when he looked at me, waiting for the traffic light.

  “Not unless you have a medical degree.” I laughed.

  “Don’t have that, but there has to be another way I can help. My family does a lot of charity work. My parents are huge in helping people in the area.”

  “Maybe. We do have a small fundraiser coming up. Last year we raised ten thousand dollars, which helped us update some of the equipment in the clinic, but there’s so much more that’s needed.”

  I didn’t really want to ask for his help, but if his family already helped organizations in the area, I couldn’t turn it down.

  “I honestly have never heard of it. I’m sure my family would love to help.”

  “It’s very kind of you, Michael.” I smiled at him. His kindness made me feel giddy.

  “I’ve always had a soft spot for kids.”

  “Do you have any of your own?” I didn’t want to pry, but I wanted to know his situation.

  Did he have a crazy-ass ex or a gaggle of kids running around all over town that I needed to be aware of before we went any further?

  “No kids, you?”

  “No, I barely have time to date with work, let alone have a child.”

  “You shouldn’t work so much, Mia. Life’s too short not to enjoy it.”

  Staring out the window, I thought about his words. I did enjoy my life, didn’t I? “I do enjoy my life,” I said without conviction.

  “Are you telling me or trying to convince yourself?” he asked, as we pulled into the deserted parking lot.

  “Where’s everyone? I’ve never seen the parking lot empty before.”

  “It’s closed for a private event.”

  Giving him a confused look, I asked, ‘Then why are we here?”

  He turned off the engine and turned toward me. “I rented the beach for tonight. It’s all ours.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” I said as he climbed out of the truck. “Does this man know how to do anything small?” I mumbled, as I reached down and removed my heels before he opened the door.

  “Great idea,” he said as he looked at my feet. He kicked off his dress shoes and threw them on the driver’s-side floor before helping me down.

  A small white canopy sat in the distance, near the edge of the crashing waves. The sand felt hot on my soles, the sun still beating against the small glass crystals. It was like walking on warm pillows as it squished between my toes.

  “Thank you,” I said as I stared at the waves crashing against the shore.

  “For what?” he asked, sliding his hand into mine.

  “The beach at sunset. It’s one of my favorite places and I rarely get to come here.” I squeezed his hand, feeling completely at peace.

  “It’s one of my favorites, too. Great for thinking and getting away from it all,” he said as we approached the canopy.

  A small, round table was in the middle, decorated with a white linen tablecloth, fine white china, wine glasses, and candles. The floor was the warm sand, and a chandelier hung from the beams. Soft music filled the air, along with the warm breeze flowing off the ocean waves.

  It may have been the single most romantic date I’d ever had.

  “You did all this in a couple hours?” I asked, in shock.

  “I have mad skills, and connections don’t hurt either.” He laughed.

  “I may have underestimated you, Michael,” I said as I kissed his cheek and inhaled his musky scent, mixed with the salty ocean air.

  “Most people do,” he said as he pulled out my chair.

  Leaning over, I brushed my fingers against his cheek. “You’re sweet,” I said, wanting to kiss him.

  Grabbing my hand, he planted a sensual kiss on the inside of my wrist, making my knees feel weak. If he kept this up, my panties would be wetter than the sand after high tide.

  “Thanks,” I said, sitting as I brushed the bottom of my dress against my legs.

  Michael lifted my chair off the ground, tucking my legs under the table before taking a seat across from me.

  A man dressed in a tuxedo poured champagne and smiled at us both.

  Michael looked at me, raising his glass. “A toast,” he said, tilting his head.

  I grabbed my glass, holding it up to his.

  “To new beginnings.” He clinked his glass against mine.

  That was the second time he’d used that phrase. A warm, gooey feeling oozed through my body as I sipped the champagne, letting the tiny bubbles pop on my tongue. We had run into each other less than forty-eight hours ago, but I felt comfortable with him—content.

  I placed the glass on the table. “Tell me more about you,” I said, rubbing my fingertips across
the crystal stem.

  “What would you like to know?” he asked, as he motioned to the gentleman.

  “Are you a piercer or a fighter?”

  Two dishes were placed in front of us. Each contained a mouthwatering steak with asparagus and a baked potato. The man grabbed my napkin off the table and placed it on my lap.

  Looking at him, I smiled. “Thank you, sir.”

  “My pleasure,” he said, before walking away and making himself busy.

  “I’m part-owner in the tattoo shop. I don’t have the artistic ability that the rest of my siblings have, so I learned everything I could about piercing. I’ve been doing it for years. I couldn’t tattoo even if I wanted to. My hands get pretty messed up sometimes after a fight.”

  “I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that you let someone hit you.”

  “Only if they’re fast enough,” he said as he laughed.

  “Why?” I cut into my steak, avoiding his gaze.

  “It’s a rush, Mia. I can’t explain it, but it’s the greatest high ever.”

  “I still think it’s barbaric.”

  “Street fighting is barbaric, not MMA matches. We both know what’s going to happen. It’s sport.”

  “Softball is a sport and much safer,” I said, placing the steak on my tongue.

  He laughed, and it was so genuine that it warmed my body from the inside out. “It’s a sport for girls. No offense to you.”

  “None taken,” I said as I waved my fork in the air. “Sexist, but I wouldn’t expect anything less.” I laughed, covering my mouth with the back of my hand.

  “Hey, now. My sister would kick my ass if she thought I was sexist.”

  “Oh? Tell me about her. She sounds like my type of girl.” I giggled.

  “Yeah, you and Izzy would get along very well. She’s the baby in the family, but we’re all scared of her. She’s an in your face kind of girl. She takes no shit, but I guess that happens when you grow up with four brothers.”

  “She’s lucky. Sounds like a great way to grow up.”

  “She’d see it differently.”

  “Why?” I asked with a frown. “I’m an only child, and I always wanted someone to play with as a kid.”

  “She didn’t get many dates as a teenager.” He laughed. “We scared most of them away.”

 

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