“May I help you, Officer?” a woman at the admissions desk asked.
“Nurse Georgia Adams—is she working today?”
The woman pointed behind him.
Ken turned to see Georgia staring at him, hugging herself. At the sight of her sad, heavy eyes, he practically tore the hat he was holding in two. After a hard swallow, he walked toward her and stopped. “Georgia—”
“Why are you here?”
Mindful of the ears all around them, he grasped at the only straw at his disposal. “To have you check my blood pressure.” He took the fact that she didn’t throw something at him as a good sign and added, “Just as you ordered.”
“Anyone can take it,” she murmured.
“Please.”
She wet her lips, then inhaled and said, “Wendy, I’ll be in exam room three.”
Her voice was tight, and her body language closed as he followed her. Ken remembered the time he and Klone had entered an apartment building where an armed man had holed up after a bank robbery. What could it mean that he was more afraid now than he’d been then? And that the image of Georgia’s tear-streaked face in the bus window had wounded him more than the lead he’d taken in the shoulder when they had rushed the criminal?
“Have a seat,” she said, sweeping her arm toward a sterile chair. He recognized the room as the same one in which she’d bandaged Crash. Ken closed the door behind them, then lowered himself onto the small chair.
“Georgia—”
“Your arm, please,” she said, holding out a blood pressure cuff.
He lifted his arm so she could fasten it tightly. She refused to look at him as she squeezed the plastic bulb that forced air into the cuff around his arm. When the pressure bordered on pain, she released the air, watching the gauge.
“It’s still a little on the high side, but within normal range for a man of your size.” She peeled off the device with a rip of Velcro.
“Georgia.” He curled his fingers around her wrist loosely.
She looked at him, her eyes moist, then jerked away. “Get out.”
He lifted his hands, then stood slowly. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”
“So you said in your phone message.”
“I wanted to tell you in person.”
“I thought my lack of response would make it clear that I didn’t want to talk to you and certainly didn’t want to see you. But,” she said, her eyes pooling, her voice straining, “maybe you’re the kind of guy who has to be hit with a ton of bricks to get the message.”
Her words cut him like the blade of the madman who had rushed the church. She was right. He was no better than that obsessed jerk who wouldn’t take no for an answer. That fool was probably also convinced that he was in love.
Ken stopped, mostly because his heartbeat had paused. It was a fair response from his body considering the revelation that had arrested his brain: He loved her.
“Don’t make me call security,” she whispered, then backed up against the exam table behind her. A solitary tear traveled down her cheek.
He’d never felt more helpless in all of his life. He was the biggest fool in Birmingham, maybe in the entire southeastern United States. A woman like Georgia Adams came along once in a lifetime—maybe. How ironic that he’d spent most of his adult life trying to figure out how to stay out of a relationship, and just when he was thinking about the possibility of maybe sort of trying to picture himself with one woman, she’d slipped through his fingers. No, he’d pushed her away with his games of deceit and manipulation. He didn’t blame her for hating him.
He strode out of the room as fast as his long legs would take him. Away from Georgia, so he couldn’t hurt her anymore. One thing he knew for certain: She was the hardest lesson he’d ever learned.
Ken had jammed his hat on his head and was nearly out the door when he heard a man calling, “Officer Medlock!”
He turned and conjured up a pleasant expression. “Hello, Dr. Story. Nice to see you again.”
The little man looked like an opossum, but he had an excellent reputation in the city. “I just wanted to let you know that after our conversation Saturday morning, I decided to remove the reprimand from Nurse Adams’s file.”
“Thank you,” he said, truly relieved at the one bit of good news.
“From your explanation, I realize she did her best to circumvent the situation.”
But as usual, Ken thought, he had pushed until he’d gotten his way, and in the process, had jeopardized the woman’s job. What a selfish bastard he’d become. Never opening himself to other people, never considering how his actions might affect others, never putting his own emotions on the line.
“My wife runs the city blood bank,” Dr. Story said. “I heard about you rallying your fellow officers to build the reserves. We’re indebted to you, Officer Medlock. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, just ask.”
Ken started to shake his head, then recalled his emotions after the church incident. He’d acknowledged that he could almost identify with the lunatic because if he were about to lose Georgia, he wouldn’t wield a weapon, but he’d be mighty tempted to make a fool of himself somehow.
Georgia said she wanted an honest man. Well, he’d blown it up to this point, but he could at least be honest about how he felt about her.
Turning a smile toward the good doctor, he said, “As a matter of fact, Doc, there is something you can do for me.”
GEORGIA LEANED on the exam table, trying to collect herself.
“Hey, are you okay?”
She looked up to see that Toni had poked her head into the room. Georgia sighed and nodded. “What are you doing down here?”
“I had a break and I thought maybe you could use one, too.”
“Could I ever.” Georgia averted her gaze from her friend’s quizzical look as they headed toward the break room.
“Well, I thought you’d be glad to know that I just told Dr. Baxter that my name isn’t Terri.”
She managed a smile. “Good for you. What did he say?”
Toni grinned. “He said the only way he could remember the name Toni was to think of Italian food—you know, like rigatoni. Oh, and would I like to have dinner with him?”
Despite her own recent romantic disasters, Georgia was happy for her friend. “I knew you’d get your man.”
Toni’s smile dimmed. “Okay, Georgia, ’fess up. What’s wrong?”
Georgia glanced around, then said, “Ken stopped by.”
“No kidding? What did he say?”
She grunted. “Same thing—that he was sorry.”
“Maybe he is.”
“Well, that’s not good enough.”
“Georgia, what do you want him to say?”
She frowned. “Nothing. I want him to stay away from me.”
“Are you sure?”
She fed coins into a soda machine. “After what he did?”
“I’m not taking up for the guy, but anyone can make a mistake.”
“Toni, a mistake is adding two numbers wrong. The man has a fundamental character flaw—he’s a self-centered jerk who doesn’t care about other people.” She blinked back a wall of sudden tears. “He certainly doesn’t care about me.”
A voice she recognized as Dr. Story’s came over the intercom. “Please stand by for an important message.”
She winced. She’d forgotten to stop by for her personal copy of her official reprimand. What a fun errand that would be.
“Georgia, this is Ken.”
She missed her mouth and spilled her soda down the front of her scrubs.
Toni stared at her wide-eyed. “He’s on the intercom.”
“I love you,” he said, his voice strong and resonating. “I don’t expect this to change your mind, I just wanted you to know.”
Georgia dropped the can and allowed Toni to scramble for it while she processed Ken’s revelation. She heard muted applause in the halls, and several people walked by the vending room, giving her
the thumbs-up.
“What are you going to do?” Toni screeched, jumping up and down.
She shook her head. “He doesn’t mean it.”
“Are you crazy? The man told you he loved you over the intercom, for heaven’s sake!”
“He’s just trying to ease his conscience. Men like Ken Medlock will say anything when they’re backed into a corner.” She should know—she’d seen her father’s sugary words and elaborate gifts melt her mother’s resolve. Well, she’d rather be alone the rest of her life than submit to a man on whom love would be wasted.
“You’re simply going to ignore him?”
Georgia fed more coins into the vending machine, albeit with shakier fingers. “That’s right. I’m simply going to ignore him.”
At least she would try.
25
GEORGIA STARED at the report in her hand, her official reprimand for “treating a canine in a human health facility.” Her own signature looked timid next to Dr. Story’s flourishing script.
“Destroy them,” Dr. Story had said, handing her both the original that had been bound for her file and a copy. “Officer Medlock came by Saturday morning to explain the situation, and I realize I acted in haste.”
She pursed her mouth. Ken’s timing surprised her—before their closet encounter, and before she found out about his little “impersonation.” Walking to the kitchen trash can, she tore the papers into several pieces before pitching them. She really didn’t want to dwell on it too much, though, else she might start thinking Ken Medlock was a good guy after all.
The phone rang, startling her. She was tempted to let it roll over, but decided she wasn’t going to allow the possibility of the caller being Ken to influence her phone habits. The sooner her life got back to normal, the boring off she’d be. She frowned. The better off she’d be. Better.
Ignoring her Freudian slip, she picked up the handset. “Hello?”
She held her breath, and for a split second, God help her, she wanted it to be him.
“Hello, dear, it’s Mother.”
Shaking her head, she smiled at Arletta Adams’s uncanny sense of timing. And absolutely no respect for the time difference from Denver to Birmingham. Not that it mattered, since Georgia couldn’t sleep. “Hi, Mom.” She dropped onto the couch, no doubt bruising her backside. She wondered vaguely where Ken had gotten his big comfy couches.
“I called to see if you and Bob had fun at the wedding.”
She sighed. “Actually, Mom, Bob didn’t make it.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. Why not?”
“It doesn’t matter, really. We broke up.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. What happened?”
“I realized…that I didn’t care for him as much as I thought.” She reached for the envelope of photos she’d had developed, and pulled out one she’d taken at the park. Crash was the main focus, his head resting on the side of the wagon, but the lens had captured Ken in the top corner, leaning forward, his cheeks pushed up in a grand smile, his hair slightly ruffled in the wind. The darn viewfinder on the camera was obviously skewed.
“Well, as pretty as you are, you’re bound to meet a wonderful man soon. Did you check out the groomsmen?”
She laughed. “No.”
Her mother sighed, a musical little sound to the tune of “you missed another chance.” “Weddings are a good place to meet eligible men, Georgia.”
That smile. She loved that smile. Georgia rubbed her forefinger over his face. Such a nice face. “Now that you mention it, Mom, I did meet someone at the wedding.”
By the silence, she knew she had her mother’s attention. “Who?”
“His name is Ken,” she said before she could stop the words. “Ken Medlock. It’s funny, because he reminds me a little of Daddy.” Georgia remained stock still, wondering what her mother’s reaction would be.
“That’s wonderful, dear.”
“Is it, Mom? Is it really?”
Her mother sighed, an earnest one, this time, and Georgia sensed a change in her. “Georgia, your father wasn’t perfect, but I loved him. Do I wish things had been different? Of course I do. I wish I had been different.”
She didn’t want to hear her mother accepting blame for her father’s shenanigans. “Mom—”
“I hated sex, Georgia.”
She swallowed her words, and her eyes bugged. “Oh.”
“It was inevitable that your father stray. The few times he did, I didn’t like it, but I didn’t blame him. And he never stopped loving me.”
She clasped a hand to her forehead, stunned at her mother’s revelation. “All these years, I thought that he was hurting you.”
“Quite the opposite, dear. Your father and I loved each other deeply. He always felt so guilty about his affairs that he brought me gifts. I never doubted his commitment to our family.”
In thirty seconds, her entire outlook on sex and relationships had been turned on end. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Then tell me about this Ken Medlock, dear.”
Georgia’s mind raced with images of Ken, so many of them jammed into only a few days, and all of them…profound.
“Georgia, what does the man do?”
She pressed the picture of Ken to her heart, and closed her eyes. “He makes me happy, Mom. Can I call you back?”
“Of course, dear.”
She hung up and brought her fist to her mouth. Her father had indulged in extra-marital affairs because her mother hated sex. Not because one woman wasn’t enough for him. Not because he enjoyed seeing how much he could get away with. Not because he didn’t love his family. Her mother had violated her marriage vows first, by not honoring the physical needs of her husband. Georgia had sorely misjudged her father. She sent up a prayer of apology and a smile to the man she’d always adored, but whose situation she had never fully appreciated.
A warm, fuzzy feeling flooded over her, along with a revelation: Perhaps her father had orchestrated the chance meeting with Ken. The sequence of events seemed almost too fantastic for mere mortal coincidence. She smiled. He was still looking out for her. Fannie had Mother, and she had Dad.
So she hadn’t inherited dark, lusty, philandering tendencies. Her sex drive had been kicked into overdrive by a man whom she’d been destined to meet. A man who stirred her soul before she even knew him. A man to whom she was drawn both physically and metaphysically.
Georgia counted to ten to calm her pounding heart. She loved Ken. It was impossible, but true. They’d connected so quickly and so intensely that she’d been frightened. Since it seemed too good to be true, she’d been poised for the other shoe to drop. And it had, when she’d found out it was him she’d been talking to on the phone, him she’d been sharing her thoughts and fantasies with. But on some subconscious level, hadn’t she wished it were Ken all along?
She was being handed a gift on one of those platters she wanted. She would not turn from love and run.
She looked at the phone and laughed aloud when she realized his number was still programmed in. She pushed the button, then his phone rang once, twice as her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. Was he home? It was awfully late. Was he asleep? Would he be glad to hear from her?
“Hello,” he said, and his voice filled her chest with warmth.
“Ken, it’s Georgia.”
“Hi,” he said, sounding glad, but tentative. “It’s great to hear your voice. I didn’t think—”
“I love you, too.”
Strangling sounds came across the line.
“Are you choking?” she asked. “Because I know the Heimlich maneuver.”
He laughed. “So you say.”
“I was wondering if you know where I live.”
“Yes, ma’am, I do.”
She smiled wryly. Of course he did. “Well, in that case, I was wondering if you would like to come over.”
She heard a loud popping noise, as if the phone had been dropped. “Ken?”
From the rhythmic knocking
sound, she realized the handset was dangling and swinging back and forth against something. She laughed into the phone as she heard his door slam.
Georgia hugged herself, hoping that Ken had the cruiser and would turn on the blue lights. She hated to wait.
Epilogue
“THE NEXT TIME we get married,” Ken whispered against the back of her neck, “Pick a wedding gown that has fewer buttons.”
“All the better to torture you, my dear,” she murmured with a smile, rolling her shoulders in response to the delicious thrill of his tongue. “Ken, I was thinking.”
“Hmm?”
She turned in his arms and tugged at the lapels of his black tuxedo jacket. “Since we have the rest of our lives to make love while I’m not wearing my wedding gown, why don’t we—”
He grabbed her around the waist, grinning. “I like the way you think, Mrs. Medlock.”
He carried her to the bed in the luxurious honeymoon suite they’d reserved and set her on the edge. She started to slip off her shoes, but he stopped her, pushing her gently back on the bed. He then removed the satin heels with much ado, and kissed his way up to the top of her white thigh-high stockings.
Just knowing the pleasures that lay ahead had her writhing against the covers. “Blue lights, Ken,” she whispered, their private shorthand when one of them could barely wait for the other to love them.
His laugh was throaty as he unfastened his waistband. “I love it when you talk dirty, ma’am.”
“Oh, but isn’t this better than phone sex?” She moaned as he entered her, swift and hard.
“Is it ever,” he breathed against her neck. “I love you, Georgia.”
“I love you, too,” she panted, meeting his long, filling strokes. Her climax was close, and he knew it.
His face glistened with perspiration as he talked to her, murmuring sizzling, erotic words. Her thighs burned with the need for her release. He drew her knees up and levered himself over her, driving deep, bringing her to the brink, then over, in a rhythmic flood of ecstasy. She cried out his name over and over. His orgasm intensified hers as he expanded and pulsed inside her.
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