The Stone Brothers: A Complete Romance Series (3-Book Box Set)

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The Stone Brothers: A Complete Romance Series (3-Book Box Set) Page 67

by Samantha Christy


  “No, I’m pretty sure it is. She singled me out over all her residents. I just wish I knew what I did to piss her off.”

  “It’s not anything you did, son. It’s what I did.”

  “You?”

  “Dr. Redman and I did our residencies at the same hospital,” he says.

  “You know her?”

  “Yes,” he says. “I dated her.”

  “You what?”

  I hear more laughter. This time, it’s not only coming from Dad, but Chad and Mallory as well.

  “Sorry, son. It appears you’ve been getting the wrath of a woman scorned. Although you think she’d have long gotten over it by now.”

  “Scorned?” I ask. “What did you do to her?”

  “I broke up with her to date your mother.”

  I roll my eyes and let my head fall back as I look up at the ceiling. “Great. Just absolutely fucking perfect.”

  “Don’t curse in front of Mallory,” Dad reprimands me.

  “Sorry.”

  “Details, Dad,” Chad says. “How long were you and Dr. Redman together?”

  “Not long, a month or so,” he says. “It was near the end of our third year. We had different specialties, obviously, but it was a smaller hospital, so residents pretty much all knew each other, despite their different fields of study. But when your mom joined the program as an intern, I only had eyes for her. I ended it with Louise before I asked your mom out. But she always knew why I left her.”

  “One month?” I ask. “She’s making my life a living hell because she dated you for one month over thirty years ago?”

  Dad laughs again. “It appears I’m a hard man to get over.”

  Great. I have to spend the next four weeks with a woman who hates my father. How’d I get so lucky?

  But then I think of all the experiences I’ve had this week. Tiny, lifeless babies that fit in my hand notwithstanding, I’d say it’s been one hell of a week. And I surmise that despite the wicked witch of OB, I am, in fact, pretty damn lucky.

  Chapter Twelve

  Gina climbs off me and blows out a long breath. “Wow,” she says. “Thanks, doctor, I needed that.”

  I laugh. “I’m here to serve.”

  “And serve me well, you have,” she says, lying down beside me. “Twice.”

  For once, neither of us is in a hurry to get anywhere. No pagers are going off. Rounds don’t start for fifteen minutes. It’s quiet. Almost eerily so.

  Red runs an even tighter ship than Manning down in the ER. She has us pulling on-call duty every third night. Gina was on call last night, and based on her ragged appearance, it doesn’t look like she had much sleep.

  “Busy night?” I ask.

  “You have no idea.” She buries her head into the crook of my neck. She’s never done this before. This is dangerously close to cuddling.

  We don’t cuddle.

  I take a beat and try to decide if I like it. But while the jury is still out, I figure I should test the waters, so I slip my arm around her.

  She sighs audibly into my shoulder. I take that to mean she’s already decided she likes it.

  I stare down at her long brown hair before I pull it from the confines of her hair tie. I run my fingers through it. I’m not sure why I’ve always been attracted to brunettes. Maybe because, like every other kid on my street, I had a crush on Mallory Shaffer growing up—the girl who is now married to, and having a kid with, my brother.

  I never told Chad that. He’d probably have kicked the shit out of me if I had. He was always super protective of her, even though they were nothing more than best friends back then.

  And although I don’t share my middle brother’s infamous and highly-televised sexual promiscuity, I’ve dated my fair share of women. Or should I say, I’ve dated my fair share of brunettes. I twist a chunk of Gina’s dark hair around my fingers. Yes, I’m definitely a brunette man.

  Gina cranes her neck to look up at me. “We can tell each other stuff, can’t we, Kyle? I mean, we’ve got each other’s backs, right?”

  My body stiffens. “You didn’t kill a patient last night, did you?”

  “No, nothing like that. Not yet anyway. But I did disobey an order Dr. Anders gave me. Or rather, I ordered labs she told me not to order. I know it could cost my patient a lot of money. But I really felt strongly that she needed them. I’ll take the heat. Even if I’m wrong and the labs don’t show anything, I still stand by my decision. But I was too chicken to tell Dr. Anders what I did. I figured I’d just wait for her to see it in the chart. Dr. Redman will probably have my ass when Anders tells her.”

  “I did something I haven’t told anyone about, either,” I say.

  “Really?” She puts her hand over my heart and holds it there. “Will you tell me?”

  While it’s not entirely true about me not telling anyone, I figure we’re sharing here. So I decide to bite the bullet and see how she reacts to my revelation.

  “I’m paying for a patient’s entire hospital stay.”

  “And by entire stay, you mean . . .”

  “I mean my patient, my one patient who is pregnant and on bed rest until she delivers. I think she might be homeless, although she won’t admit it. She walks dogs to get cash, Gina. She was admitted with only the clothes on her back. She has nothing. And nobody has come to visit her.”

  “Oh, my God, that’s so sad,” she says. “But if she’s homeless, what’s the point in paying her bill? You can’t squeeze blood from a turnip. We have to treat her anyway.”

  “I don’t know. Just a feeling, I guess. I didn’t want her stuck in some shared hospital room without windows for weeks on end, which is what we both know would have happened.”

  “So you’re saying she’s better than the other homeless people we treat?”

  “No, of course not,” I say. “I don’t know why I did it exactly. I can’t explain it. She’s not telling me her whole story. But I get the idea that there’s more to her than meets the eye.”

  She wraps her leg around my leg and squeezes me tightly against her.

  Yeah, definitely cuddling.

  “You are a bleeding heart, Dr. Stone.”

  “So, you don’t think I crossed a line?” I ask.

  “We wouldn’t be good doctors if we didn’t cross the line sometimes,” she says.

  I nod, somewhat relieved that Gina doesn’t have a problem with this.

  “Oh, and I found out why Red has it out for me. She was my dad’s girlfriend during residency. He broke up with her for my mom.”

  She laughs. “Seriously? Oh, Kyle, it sucks to be you right now. Good thing obstetrics isn’t your specialty.”

  “No shit,” I say.

  Gina’s pager goes off. She stretches up to kiss me. This is new, too. I mean, we kiss all the time. But only when we’re fucking. Never after.

  “I might miss rounds. Depends on what’s up,” she says. “So, I’ll see you later?”

  “Yeah, see you later,” I say, gathering my scrubs off the floor.

  We don’t ever round on Elizabeth. And we won’t unless anything changes. As Dr. Redman said, her case doesn’t interest her.

  As it turns out, Gina does, in fact, miss rounds. Damn. Must mean she has a good case. I don’t ever get paged. Not unless the other residents are busy. It was just my luck that they were all fucking busy when the Beaumonts came in. I mainly spend my days fetching labs, drawing blood, and covering non-emergent cases. I’m nothing more than a glorified nurse. I’m the low man. And now I know that’s how it’ll be.

  Three and a half weeks of being Redman’s slave. Then I’ll be free from her.

  Then something happens. My heart misses a beat. And if I’m not mistaken, it happened when I thought that in three and a half weeks, I’ll not only be free from Red, but from my one and only patient.

  I shake off the notion and head to the cafeteria after rounds for a quick breakfast of a bagel and some coffee. On my way out, something on the dessert cart catches my eye. />
  I walk over and pick out six various cups of Jell-O, earning me an amused look from the cashier.

  “Research,” I say.

  She furrows her brow at me as I laugh, grabbing two spoons before I head out the door.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I stop at Elizabeth’s door before I enter her room. I’m awestruck by what I see. I was wrong, blue is not her color. It’s green. Definitely green.

  I’m assuming she’s wearing something Mallory brought her yesterday. It’s hot today, and she’s not beneath the bed sheet, so I can pretty much see her from head to toe. Her tanned legs are crossed at the ankles and I follow the shapeliness of them until my eyes meet the frayed hem of the sleeping shorts she’s wearing. The matching top is riding up on her stomach where the monitor is strapped around her, showing off the flesh of her ribs. The top, also frayed at the hem, boasts a pattern of hearts over her left breast.

  I finish my perusal of her when my gaze reaches her face, where I find her eyes glued to the television.

  “Yes!” she yells suddenly, causing me to jump out of my skin.

  Having been pulled out of my trance, I finally cross the threshold into her room. I look up at the TV to see what’s so exciting. Baseball scores. She’s excited over baseball scores.

  Her eyes flitter briefly to mine and she smiles before focusing on the screen once again. “Highlights are next,” she says. “Want to watch them with me?”

  “Sure.” I put the cups and spoons on the table next to her bed and sit down in the chair.

  We silently watch the highlight reels of yesterday’s baseball games. I’m about to say something, when she sits up suddenly and cheers.

  “Oh, my God, did you see that? That was a double play!” she squeals, her face beaming.

  The reel plays two or three more times because I guess it’s a contender for their play of the week. A catcher for the New York Nighthawks dances backwards, tripping over the umpire to get to a high-tipped foul ball, catching it before throwing it to second base to get out the runner, who apparently didn’t think the catcher would get to the ball, so he was just walking back to the base.

  “Impressive,” I say.

  The program goes on to show highlights of other MLB games and Elizabeth becomes uninterested, turning the volume down before she notices the Jell-O cups stacked on the tray table. She questions me with raised brows.

  “For round two,” I say. “Unless you’ve already picked your favorite.”

  She smiles sadly. “I haven’t, but I’m not sure I’m up for that game again.”

  Damn. I did go too far with the whole married question. But it makes me wonder just what’s going on with her. Was she upset because she is married, or because she isn’t?

  “Not to worry, I’ll go easy on you.” I nod to a robe tossed over the back of the chair. “Now let’s get your robe on, I’m breaking you out of this popsicle stand.”

  “Really?” Her blue eyes light up.

  God, I’m going to miss those amazing blue eyes in three and a half weeks.

  Wait . . . what the hell, Kyle? She’s your patient. You’re with Gina.

  You are with Gina, right?

  “The wheelchair you requested, Dr. Stone,” Abby says, bringing it to Elizabeth’s bedside. Then she walks around her bed and takes the blood pressure cuff out of the basket and proceeds to place it on Elizabeth’s arm. “If you’re going on an outing, we need to make sure you’re all good. And you should visit the bathroom first to make sure you aren’t bleeding.”

  “Slave driver,” I say to Abby with a wink.

  After Elizabeth uses the bathroom, I hand her the lightweight robe from the chair. “This is nice,” I say, running my hand over the soft material.

  “I know, right?” she says. “Your sister-in-law gave it to me, along with this sleeper set and a few nightgowns. She said your mother spoils her and she had too many to wear. She even brought me a few books on what to do when you’re bedridden during pregnancy. I like her. She seems pretty great.”

  “Mallory is one of the good ones,” I say. “You know, I have another sister-in-law who would love to visit you as well. And a few friends of mine, three sisters actually, who could keep you company.”

  I help her into the wheelchair and then hand her the spoons and the Jell-O.

  “I’m not a charity case, Kyle.” She looks up at me in a huff. “Oh, my God, did you tell them I’m homeless? I’m not, you know. I have a place. It’s nothing special, but at least it’s mine.”

  A wave of relief courses through me knowing she wasn’t living on the streets.

  “I didn’t tell them anything, Elizabeth. There are rules, you know. But when I was having dinner with Mallory and my brother last night, she mentioned how much she thought you were like her group of friends. Said you’d probably fit right in. She thought maybe they could each come meet you, you know, to break up the monotony. Keep you from going stir crazy.”

  “I guess it might be nice to have some visitors,” she says as I wheel her into the hallway.

  “Then it’s okay if I tell them they can stop by?” I ask with a hopeful grin.

  She nods hesitantly. “I’m just not sure what they expect to get out of it.”

  “How about a new friend?” I ask.

  “Friend,” she muses mostly to herself as if it’s a foreign concept.

  I push the down button for the elevator. “Elizabeth, I’m glad to hear you have a place, even if you think it’s nothing special. But I have to ask—you’ll be here for a long time, how are you going to make the rent?”

  “Luckily, I paid it the day before I was admitted. That was on the second so it will get me through to the end of August.”

  “What about after that?” I ask. “You aren’t working now. What’ll you do when you get discharged?” I crouch down beside her and keep my voice low. “I’d like to help. You know, just until you get back on your—”

  “Kyle, stop,” she says, disapprovingly. “I’m not about to take any handouts. Besides, you’re a resident. I’ve seen Grey’s Anatomy. I know you probably don’t make much more than what covers your own rent. Thank you, but no. I’ll be fine. I’ll figure it out.”

  I nod, not wanting to push her on the subject. “Okay, but the offer stands. If you get home and you realize—”

  She stops my words with her venomous stare. “What about me not taking handouts do you not understand, Dr. Stone?”

  Shit.

  “Sorry,” I say, putting my hands up in surrender. “Not another word. I have no doubt you’ll figure it all out. You’re a strong woman, Elizabeth.”

  The elevator arrives and I push her in, pressing the button for the ground floor.

  “Why would you say that? That I’m strong,” she asks. “You don’t even know me.”

  “Yeah, but I know people,” I tell her. “A lot of people come through the doors of this hospital. As doctors, part of our job is to read the signs, learn what they can and can’t handle. My instinct tells me that you’ve probably already handled a lot. Becoming a single parent can’t be easy, yet I’ve never heard you complain about it.”

  She rubs a hand across her belly. “Not much I can do about it now,” she says. “This is happening whether I had planned on it or not. Might as well make the best of it.”

  I roll her through two sets of double doors to the courtyard in the center of the hospital. All the wings of the hospital are built around the large arboretum that is lined with trees, benches and decorative sidewalks.

  They can’t build hospitals like this in the city anymore. But this one was one of the original hospitals in New York, built over a hundred years ago. It’s considered a historic building, in fact, so it can’t be torn down to maximize space.

  Being in the courtyard is nothing like walking around the city. It’s quiet. Peaceful. Serene. I remember spending hours upon hours out here studying for my intern exams last spring.

  “Oh, wow,” Elizabeth says, as I push her down the p
ath towards a seating area. “The flowers are amazing.”

  “Would you believe the hospital employs its own gardener?”

  “I believe it,” she says. “Normally these types of flowers wouldn’t grow without full sunlight.” She looks up at the eight-story building that surrounds the courtyard. “A good bit of light is blocked by the building. He must work very hard.”

  “You garden?” I ask.

  “Oh, yes,” she says. Then her smile falls. “Well, I used to.”

  I stop pushing her when we reach my favorite bench. “This okay?” I ask.

  “Perfect,” she says. “I would have picked this bench, too.”

  I tilt my head at her. “Why?”

  “See those flowers? They’re lavender, a calming flower. Their scent is supposed to help with stress. A lot of people spray it in their bedrooms at night to help them sleep.”

  “Ahh, well, that explains it then.”

  “Explains what?” she asks.

  “How I passed my intern exams. I used to sit here on this bench every chance I got to study for them.”

  She laughs. “How did a plant that makes you sleepy help you pass your tests?”

  “You said yourself it helps with stress.”

  “By making you sleepy,” she says with an eye roll.

  “Oh, well whatever it was, it worked because I rocked my exams.”

  She smiles. “I can see that about you. You look like you are very dedicated to becoming a great doctor. I’ll bet you’ll be one of the best male obstetricians at this hospital.”

  I guffaw loudly. “Oh, hell, no. While I want to learn everything I can about delivering babies, I’ve no intention of doing it for my career. And thank God for that because my attending hates me, or rather, she hates my father.”

  She shakes her head. “What? Why does she hate your dad, and why are you working on the OB floor if you aren’t going to be an obstetrician?”

  “First, my dad slept with my attending—over thirty years ago, mind you. Then he left her for my mother. Guess she holds a long damn grudge. Second, my specialty is emergency medicine. The first time you came to the hospital, I was on an ER rotation. That is where I’ll spend more than half of this year. When you came back, earlier this week, I was starting my OB rotation where I’ll be for the next several weeks. I’ll also do rotations in pediatric intensive care, trauma, and critical care.”

 

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