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Too hot to sleep

Page 7

by Stephanie Bond


  She was considerably less amused. “Hello.”

  “Sorry about that, ma’am. The guys around here can get a little carried away. Do you want some coffee or something?”

  Oh, that “ma’am” thing was killing her. She wet her lips. “No. I came to give you a phone number.”

  His grin curled halfway up his handsome face.

  “Not mine,” she said with a frown. Polite, presumptuous beast. “I saw a flyer advertising a lost dog that sounded like the one you hit.”

  “Accidentally,” he added wryly.

  “Whatever,” she said, fishing in her purse to retrieve the scrap of paper she’d written on. “Here.”

  “Thanks.”

  He didn’t look too grateful, though. “Did you take him to the animal shelter?”

  “No, I took him home with me.”

  She blinked in surprise. “Oh. Well. How nice.”

  “Did I get you in trouble at the hospital?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry about that, ma’am.”

  “No, you’re not. I told you plainly I wasn’t allowed to tend the dog, but you wouldn’t leave.”

  “He might have died.”

  She shook her head. “Look, I like dogs as much as the next person, but how would you feel if you came into the E.R. with a heart attack and saw a dog lying in the bed next to yours?”

  “That depends. Are you my nurse?”

  “Goodbye, Officer Medlock.”

  “Wait. I was about to go on break. Want to grab a bite to eat?”

  She did need to eat before going on duty for the blood bank, but she didn’t want to eat with him. “No.”

  “Oh, come on,” he cajoled. “No matter what you say, I saved your life yesterday. You owe me a hot dog or something. Besides, it’s my birthday.”

  At the sight of his shining brown eyes, she wavered. He was impossibly appealing, that was certain. And although she could’ve saved herself yesterday, he had stepped in. “Well—”

  “Ken,” a man behind her yelled. “Happy Birthday, man!”

  They were back, the entire crowd, escorting a blonde dressed in a traditional nurse’s uniform. If nurses wore white miniskirts, that is. And five-inch heels. But the little cap that secured her bound hair was very convincing, and the black-rimmed glasses made the woman look almost smart enough to wade through the schoolwork necessary to become an R.N.

  Georgia shrank back as the woman advanced and set a boom box on his desk, then pressed a button and began to undulate to a stylized version of “Happy Birthday” set to bump and grind music. Georgia’s tongue settled into her cheek.

  The woman tore off her nurse’s cap, releasing her golden hair, swinging it in her customer’s face. When the blonde began to unbutton her blouse, Georgia stumbled backward to the entrance, battling an onslaught of emotion. Some dark side of her wanted to see how the man would respond to the blatant display.

  Officer Medlock was loving it. Not in a lecherous, lip-smacking kind of way, but in a good-natured, teasing kind of way. The woman was down to bikini top and skirt, wrapping her arms around Ken’s neck as she danced around him. Georgia’s eyes drooped as she imagined herself in the woman’s place, peeling off her clothes for an audience of one.

  But for whom?

  Her eyes popped open. What was she thinking? When the woman pushed Ken into his chair and climbed onto his lap, she fled.

  Georgia was glad to have a block to walk off her discomfiture before reporting for her volunteer work. Her steps were deliberately slow in the cloying heat, and she ducked under awnings whenever possible to escape the intense rays of the sun. But her breathing accelerated when she thought of the scene she’d just left. The good thing was that the performer’s appearance had spared her Ken Medlock’s company. Georgia worked her mouth from side to side.

  The bad thing was that the performer’s appearance had spared her Ken Medlock’s company.

  She shook herself, dismayed at her train of thought. At the sight of the blonde, he had instantly forgotten his invitation. Georgia pushed down the troubling images of sharing an intimate snack, then grabbed a jumbo pretzel from a street vendor, and hurried into the municipal building in anticipation of occupying her hands and her mind.

  Since she’d given him the phone number of the likely owner of the dog, they had no further ties. In fact, Georgia could think of no circumstances whatsoever under which she and Officer Ken Medlock would be speaking in the future.

  10

  “I’D LIKE TO REQUEST Nurse Georgia Adams,” Ken told the woman signing in volunteer donors.

  She brazenly looked him up and down. “Are you a friend of Georgia’s?”

  No, but we’ve had sex. “She and I are acquainted.”

  The woman’s face registered understanding. “Oh, wait. Are you the cop who nearly got her fired?”

  He smiled wryly. “Well, I do have other claims to fame.”

  The woman eyed the nightstick at his side and lifted one thin eyebrow. “I just bet you do. Right this way, Officer Medlock.”

  He followed the skinny woman, amused that she appeared to know Georgia and Georgia’s business. It occurred to him that the woman might be helpful. “Are you the friend of hers who’s getting married?”

  “Oh, no, that’s Stacey Alexander. I’m Toni. Toni Wheeler.”

  He smiled. “Nice to meet you, Toni.”

  “Likewise,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes.

  He saw Georgia before she saw them. She was bandaging the arm of a middle-aged man who’d just finished giving blood. Her face was flushed with a smile as she pointed in the direction of a refreshments table. Ken experienced a stab of envy—he wanted to be the recipient of that radiant smile. Her profile was classically beautiful, and he asked himself for the umpteenth time why Robbie Boy hadn’t slapped a ring on her dialing finger.

  “Georgia,” Toni said sweetly, “look who stopped by.”

  She turned her head and her smile dropped.

  On the other hand, maybe her mood swings made Robbie Boy dizzy.

  “Hi,” he said, inclining his head.

  “Hello.”

  Brrr. If the city could bottle that chill, the heat wave would be alleviated.

  “Georgia,” Toni said in a chiding voice, “you didn’t tell me your cop was so cute.”

  “Is he? I hadn’t noticed.”

  Toni gave Georgia a strange look, then handed her his sign-in sheet and scampered away.

  “I’m not cute?” he asked, pulling his best hurt expression.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He swept his arm over the impromptu clinic. “I came to do my civic duty.”

  She lifted a sugary smile. “Are you sure your blood isn’t too hot after your little birthday celebration?”

  Apparently, she hadn’t been amused. He squirmed, then grinned sheepishly, holding his hat in both hands. “I’m, uh, sorry about that. My partner gets a little carried away with practical jokes.”

  She seemed preoccupied with his form. “Hmm.”

  “Anyway, I tried to find you, um, afterward, but you’d disappeared.”

  She glanced up. “Look, Officer, I’m a little busy here. If you want to give blood, lie down.”

  He obeyed, thinking it might be his only chance to be close to her and prone at the same time. She put the blood pressure cuff on his arm, her mouth set in a straight line as she listened with her stethoscope.

  He laughed. “From your expression, I must be dead.”

  “No, but your blood pressure is on the high side of normal. Is that typical?”

  “No, it’s always been perfect.” But then again, his body was now trained to come alive at the sound of Georgia’s voice. “Probably the excitement of the day. Can I still give?”

  She nodded. “But have your blood pressure checked again in a few days just to be safe. Roll up your sleeve, please.”

  He unbuttoned the cuff of his blue uniform shirt. “We didn’t get to have that hot dog.
What time do you get off?” Besides every time we talk on the phone.

  “Not for a few hours,” she said, her expression one of total lack of interest.

  The woman would take a scalpel to him if she knew he knew the sounds she made when she climaxed.

  “And,” she added, “you’ll need to eat something as soon as you’re finished here.”

  He didn’t push, only because he had the promise of her call again tonight, assuming she hadn’t yet figured out she was dialing the wrong number. Besides, the more time they spent together, the more likely she was to recognize his voice. Although, he realized their nightly phone rendezvous were numbered, since her boyfriend would surely call her soon and she’d realize her mistake.

  She crossed her killer legs as she made check marks on his form. The woman was infinitely more titillating than that two-bit dancer the guys had hired.

  Georgia leaned into him, sharing a whiff of her subtle fragrance, then tied a thick rubber band just above his elbow. She had a European look about her, with flawless skin, sleepy eyes and ultrafull lips. Exotic, in an understated way. Not the kind of woman who would stand out in a room, unless a man were extremely choosy. Her hair was rolled into a dark tight knot on her crown. He longed to see the silky length falling around her shoulders, like it would be tonight when she called.

  Her fingers skimmed across his skin with the touch of a butterfly, and to his amazement, he began to grow hard. He slid his hat across his lap as inconspicuously as possible to cover the telltale evidence, but she saw the movement and frowned.

  He averted his gaze and whistled tunelessly until he had himself back under control. The woman was addictive.

  She turned over his arm and rather painfully flicked her finger against a network of veins at the bend. “There’s a good one,” she said, the hint of a smile on her mouth.

  Of course, when she held up the needle she was going to stick into his arm, he knew why she was smiling.

  “Careful, ma’am,” he said. “I’m a sensitive—owwww!”

  At last he was the recipient of that radiant smile. “That didn’t hurt now, did it?”

  He grimaced as she inserted the tube leading to a plasma bag into the end of the syringe. “Not much more than a hot poker in the eye.”

  “Since your blood pressure is up, you should bleed quickly,” she said cheerfully.

  “I suppose that’s good?”

  She smirked. “Unless you’re run down by a police car.”

  He smirked back. “And brought to you for help?”

  “I help any person who comes into the E.R.,” she said, “even an impertinent, bossy person.”

  He wagged his eyebrows. “Oh, but I can be an animal sometimes.”

  “Just bleed, will you?”

  But she seemed pleased that she’d gotten a rise out of him. The problem was, with all her fidgeting and adjusting, she was getting too much of a rise out of him. Her phone call tonight couldn’t come soon enough.

  “Did you find the dog’s owner?” she asked.

  Her voice sounded not quite friendly but…normal, at least. “I called, but Crash wasn’t their dog.”

  “Crash?”

  He shrugged his free shoulder. “Figured I’d better name the little fellow seeing as he might be staying at my place for a while.”

  She stroked the tube in a pulling motion, facilitating his blood being drawn into the bag. “Does that pose a problem spacewise?”

  A few seconds passed before he realized she was actually conversing. “Um, no, my place is old, but pretty big. And it’s just me living there.”

  “Oh.”

  So much for conversing. “Do you live alone?” he asked.

  “That’s absolutely none of your business.”

  He’d botched it again. “I meant do you live with your family?”

  “No.”

  Not a chatty Cathy, this one. “Do you have a big family?”

  “One sister, two nieces, all in Denver.”

  He remained silent in hopes she would elaborate.

  “My father died several years ago, but I still have my mother. She lives with my sister most of the time.”

  She looked wistful and Ken thought of all the glad and sad moments in her life he would never have a chance to share, the laughter and tears he would never have a chance to witness. Georgia Adams made him feel proprietary—in a noble way, of course. Well, okay, maybe all of his intentions weren’t so noble.

  “How about you?” she asked.

  Ken blinked, so lost in her stunning blue eyes that he’d forgotten what they’d been talking about. “How about me what?”

  She sighed as if he were a half-wit. “Do you have a big family?”

  “One brother, four sisters, ten nieces and nephews.”

  “Wow.”

  He took her monosyllabic response as an invitation to continue. “My folks are alive and well in Virginia. We kids are scattered, but we try to get together at least once a year.”

  “That’s nice.” She checked the bag. “And you’re done—in record time, too.”

  Great. Just when he wanted to spend time with the woman, he’d set a record for bleeding.

  She removed the catheter with deft fingers, and gave him a gauze pad to press against the point of entry while she made notes on his form.

  “Would you like to have dinner sometime?” he blurted.

  At least he had succeeded in getting her attention. He held his breath, but she shook her head. “I can’t. Rob and I are…exclusive.”

  But we’re good together, he wanted to shout. You’ve been sharing your fantasies with me. “Did your boyfriend make it back to town?” He knew he was treading on dangerous territory, but he couldn’t help himself.

  “Yes. But I forgot to mention your name to him.”

  He squinted. Was she blushing? “Don’t worry about it,” he murmured, sitting up. He wanted to pull her close for a long kiss, Rob and the crowd be damned. Instead he rolled down his sleeve and fumbled with the button.

  Then to his surprise, she stilled his hands. “Let me.” He raised his eyebrows, but she simply nodded toward the registration desk. “The line is backing up.”

  Oh, well, regardless of her motivation, Georgia made buttoning his shirt cuff an erotic act, fingering open the tiny hole and inserting the little gold disc. Ken wiped a film of perspiration from his forehead just watching her nimble fingers and knowing where they’d been.

  “There.” She gave him a brief smile that stole moisture from his mouth. “Thanks for giving—the blood bank is dangerously low.”

  “Glad to help. I wish there was more I could do.”

  “Maybe you could encourage your buddies to come down.”

  Never one to miss an opportunity, he grinned. “How many pints do you need?”

  Her teeth were white, even, glistening. “As many as you can get.”

  “If I can get one hundred donors down here, will you have dinner with me?”

  She bit into her bottom lip. “No. But I’ll buy you that hot dog.”

  His heart fluttered with possibility. “Deal.” He pushed himself to his feet. “I hope you have enough blood bags.”

  Her smile shook him. “Looks like I’ll be working late.”

  He hesitated. Did that mean she wouldn’t be calling him tonight? “Did you have plans?”

  Georgia shook her head. “I’m supposed to call Rob when I get home is all.”

  Ken’s mouth quirked with smug satisfaction. “Well, when you talk to him tonight, tell him I think he’s a lucky man.” He put on his hat, then touched the brim. “Ma’am.”

  11

  GEORGIA INJECTED a teasing note into her voice, lest Rob think she were interested in the man. “He said to tell you he thinks you’re a lucky man.”

  His laugh was abbreviated. “I don’t remember from the gym what this Medlock guy looks like. Should I be jealous?”

  She pressed her ear closer to the phone. His head cold had fogged his voice until
she could barely hear him. “Of course not. I m-mean, the man isn’t repulsive, but he’s just not my type.”

  “Oh?”

  “Kind of big and bulky,” she said quickly, floundering for words. “And pushy.” And he called her “ma’am,” as if she were…special.

  “Pushy? Well, I guess that’s how he was able to get so many policemen down there to give blood.”

  “I suppose,” she said, leaning back on the pillows she’d stacked against her headboard. It had been quite a sight, all those blue uniforms standing in line. One hundred and six donors. Ken Medlock seemed determined to get that hot dog—and her attention. Trouble was, he had it. She considered telling Rob about the impromptu deal, but then thought better of it, lest he think she was actually looking forward to spending time with the man.

  “Rob,” she said quietly, unable to identify the emotions pulling at her. “I know we’ve been having…fun…on the phone lately, but I was wondering if tonight we could just talk.” The way Ken Medlock had wanted to talk today, about family and things that were important. She’d held back with Ken because she hadn’t wanted to become invested in a virtual stranger, but she did crave that kind of camaraderie with Rob.

  “Talk,” he mumbled. “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted, casting about for a topic. “How about us?”

  “What about…us?”

  She smiled and burrowed deeper into the pillows. “Well, what first attracted you to me?”

  “That’s easy. You’re beautiful, smart, beautiful.”

  A warm, tingly feeling bloomed in her stomach. “That’s sweet, but I wasn’t fishing for a compliment. What do you think makes us a good couple?”

  “Isn’t it enough that I’m crazy about you?”

  Her grin widened, and she closed her eyes—the words she’d been hoping for, spoken with ringing sincerity. “Are you happy with the way things are going between us?”

  “I…guess so. Yes. Yes, I am.”

  “Good. So am I.” Remembering her earlier conversation with Ken, she said, “Tell me more about your family and where you’re from.”

 

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