by Sarita Leone
“He hasn’t spoken yet?” The guy asking questions was about her age, with a surfer’s squint that revealed a web of white lines running from the corners of his eyes across his tanned face. He gave her a big smile, then a wink. “Anything at all?”
It might be vital, so she nodded. “A little. But nothing important.”
He held a clipboard, and made a fast note. He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. It didn’t matter; he wasn’t her type and even if he was, she wasn’t looking. All day long she’d wondered what she would say to Kyle. Even as she supplied answers to the medic about Neil, she had the doctor on her mind.
“I’m not sure what exactly he drank. There are a lot of bottles in his truck.” She hated ratting him out but they probably already knew the story. They’d seen it before. Neil couldn’t be the first guy to get wasted and go swimming. “I’m pretty sure he smoked some weed, too.”
Another notation on the board. “Common for him? Getting high like this?” The pencil hovered over the information sheet.
“He hardly ever drinks at all. This is unusual.”
The other two men called to them. Neil was secure in the vehicle, and they were ready to go.
“I’m riding along.” She did not ask because there was no way they were taking him anywhere alone. “To the hospital—I’m going with him.”
A casual shrug was the answer. He snapped the file closed, stuck the pencil behind his right ear, and held out his arm. “Watch your step—the first one is high. Grab the bar and pull yourself up.”
She grabbed the metal bar on the inside of the door and hoisted herself into the vehicle. The rolling bed was fastened to the left side. A man sat near Neil’s head, where he watched the IV line dangling from a ceiling hook. He nodded to the bench running the length of the opposite wall, so she sat.
The door slammed so loudly she jumped. Neil, however, didn’t move a muscle. She gave the attendant a questioning look.
He shook his head. “Just passed out. I can’t be sure, but this guy has had a helluva lot to drink. No surprise he’s out.”
“Oh. I just thought…”
“No, no worries there. His vitals are strong. He’s doing well, nothing to be afraid of.” He adjusted the flow on the line, ran a hand down the tubing. “All good. But he wouldn’t be, if it wasn’t for you and your friends. You do know you saved his life, don’t you?”
It was warm inside the ambulance. They had begun moving, bumping over the sand at a snail’s pace. Neil really couldn’t be too critical because they weren’t racing to the hospital. The heat and motion weren’t great on her stomach or pounding temples.
A chill swept over her when his words sank in. She looked over. Neil looked very comfortable, all bundled up the way he was.
“I-I…ah, I just…we just…”
Her tongue tangled, her mind searched for words in a blank space.
“You saved his life. That’s what you did.” He waited a beat. There still weren’t any words in her head, so she stared at him without speaking. “Hey, are you feeling okay?”
The man was kind, and reached out a hand to check her pulse. She pulled her arm away, not to be rude but because she knew that if he was too nice to her, made too much of a fuss, she was going to cry. Not little, sniveling tears, either. The emotions fighting for freedom inside her weren’t small ones by any means.
He was smart enough to pull back. “Okay, then. You’ve had one huge shock. Why don’t you just put your head against the wall behind you—it’s got some nice, thick padding on it—and take a breather. I promise, I’m here, he’s going to be okay. We’ll get him to Bar Harbor just fine. You’ve done your job. It’s my turn now.”
The key to being ready for the next challenge was knowing when to rest after surmounting the last one. She put her head against the padding and closed her eyes.
They’d made the road, so it they’d be at the hospital fairly soon. If Neil regained consciousness, she would leave him to the staff’s capable hands. But if he didn’t wake or something even worse happened, she would stay with him. No matter what happened between them, she wouldn’t leave him alone.
The ride was, thankfully, uneventful. The patient slept the entire way—although she wasn’t sure if being passed out in an alcoholic stupor was the same as sleeping.
When the heavy double doors swung open she took a look at Neil. No change. The man by him shook his head and gave her a friendly smile.
The ambulance driver reached in and offered her his hand. “Miss?” She placed her hand in his and let him help her out. “Careful, that last step’s a doozy. There, you’ve got it. If you want, you can head inside. We’ll be right behind you.”
She went through the wide glass doors. They slid open noiselessly, and led not into the waiting room but a hallway. Cubicles lined both sides. Some had curtains closed around them, but a few were open. She waited, not knowing which one they would occupy.
The gurney rolled through the doors. Neil must have begun to rouse when they moved him because he mumbled from his white cotton cocoon.
A nurse appeared, her starched uniform and rubber-soled shoes bright in the crowded hallway. She pointed to the nearest cubicle, speaking to the ambulance crew. “Number Five, guys. Near-drowning victim, is it?”
Neil saw her as he was wheeled past. He stretched out a hand to her, so she took it and walked beside him. His skin was clammy, but his grip was firm. It had to be a good sign, that he was able to grasp her so tightly after his experience.
They rounded a corner into what she thought was an empty cubicle.
A voice, so familiar her heart squeezed when she heard it.
“Water victim—give me a check of vitals and start an additional IV of—Chloe!”
She turned and practically bumped noses with Kyle. His gaze shot from her to the patient, who refused to let her hand go even when she gave it a small, and hopefully unobserved, yank.
The nurse snickered. “What was that, Doctor? An IV of what?”
He ignored her. He also ignored the paramedics who were signing off on the paperwork and preparing to leave. And, he paid no attention to the patient, unless a furrowed brow and scowl at the man’s grip counted.
“Kyle.” She ran a hand through her hair, conscious she looked a sight. And, after the side-of-the-road pit stop to toss the gin, she probably smelled dreadful. While he, as usual, was polished. Professional. In complete control of his emotions.
In complete control of his life, while hers was a mess.
They were oil and water. Fire and ice.
Just looking at him made her insides quiver. An hour ago, she would have attributed that sensation to the alcohol. But the way he looked at her, even now when he was not as pleased to see her as he usually was, made her want more. She stared into his eyes and believed, for the first time in her life, that she deserved more.
“Doctor?” The nurse’s toe tapping made a squeaking noise against the tile.
Kyle walked past her and spoke to Neil. “Sir? I’m Doctor Brown. Can you understand me?”
She liberated her hand and stuck both in her pockets, out of reach.
“He didn’t say much in the ambulance,” she offered.
He scanned the chart when the nurse handed it to him. He snapped it closed and put it on the foot of the bed, then took a stethoscope from his coat pocket. “He’s ingested a large quantity of alcohol. We may need to pump his stomach.”
“Do what you have to do.”
“You know this man? He’s a friend of yours?”
Neil had been quiet, but he must have heard the line of questioning. With a grunt, he pulled himself partway to a sitting position, tangling his IV tubing around the rail of the hospital bed and letting the sheet fall to his hips. It was no secret he was naked. And, he made no bones about what he thought of Kyle’s questions.
Waving an arm in the air, the tone was all belligerent drunkenness. “Hell no, she’s n-not my friend! Sh-sh-she’s the mother of my child!”
&
nbsp; The air left her lungs in a big whoosh.
Kyle’s gaze met hers, and he must have seen the truth because he did not ask any questions.
She felt her world crumbling around her, and the pain in her chest could only be her heart breaking. Chloe refused to cry—not here, not now.
Behind them, the patient waved a frantic hand. “H-h-hey! Hey—I, ah, I think I—oh, no…”
The nurse anticipated his need with astonishing accuracy and speed. She held the blue plastic bucket while Neil was sicker than anyone ever should be.
Chloe didn’t feel one shred of pity for him as she turned and walked out of the cubicle.
Chapter 38
Leila could be insistent when she chose to be. “Go home. You look like—and I’m not trying to be mean here, just saying the gospel truth—a dried turd. It’s obvious you didn’t sleep more than an hour, if that. We love you, but you’re no good to anyone in this rough shape. Go the heck home, put your feet up, and take a load off. I’m right, ain’t I, Jade?”
The other woman nodded her agreement. As usual, they were all seated around their desks. Or, in Leila’s case, perched on the edge of hers. Today she wore a magenta skirt whose pleats were stretched to the limit, paired with a scoop-neck blouse and funky earrings. The outfit would have looked ridiculous on another woman but simply made Leila look exotic.
Chloe scrubbed a hand over her face. She did not take offense at their frank assessment of her appearance. She’d done all the right things: showered, deodorized, brushed and dressed but it didn’t matter. If she looked half as bad as she felt, she did, in fact, look like a dried turd.
“I hate to bail on you like that.” She didn’t remember the last time she had taken a day off or called in sick. It wasn’t her habit to do those things. “What if the place starts to jump? What then?”
Jade smirked. She closed her eyes and shook her head ever-so slightly. “Don’t flatter yourself. We’re all used to working single shifts. Even after you leave there’ll still be two of us. We can handle whatever comes through the door.”
“And it’s Thursday. We all know it’s the slowest day of the week.” Leila swirled her mug around, stirring the leaves in the bottom of the cup. When she finished the tea, Jade was going to read them. “Go home. Or, go to the beach. Or to dinner. Or to that sexy doctor. Just go somewhere.”
The beach held some bad memories today. They would dim, but right now she had no desire to set foot on the sand at Quinn Beach. Not even a toe.
Jade, the philosophical one, took a break from buffing her fingernails. “I don’t think you realize just how vulnerable you are right now. You finally met a guy who you dig, and who digs you right back. Should be groovy, right? But the old flame is a drag. He’s wearing you out. And when the past comes calling—in the most amazing way ever—it’s great but stressful, too. The mama gene just doesn’t turn on because we want it to. Believe me, I know.”
“Amen, sister.” Leila nodded her agreement the whole way through the rundown. “Listen to Jade here, that mama gene is a tough nut to crack open. You’ve been able to forget about that beautiful child to an extent. I know you must have had her on your mind a lot, but the day-to-day of it is all going to take some getting used to. For all of you.”
It had not been hard to confide in these two. They had been a sturdy support system as she cared for her uncle and the house. She knew Penny would have two new aunties who would probably spoil her rotten unless she put the kibosh to it.
“When did you say Penny is coming to the house?” Jade resumed working on her manicure. Thursday, the day for taking it easy in the office, made up for the days when they were so busy they had to scramble for bathroom breaks.
“This afternoon. After her nap and before dinner. I can only imagine what the girls have on the menu for tonight.”
They informed her she had no chores, no obligations and certainly no worries while she was getting to know her daughter. Dinner, cleanup afterward—it was all on them. She loved their excitement over having a child in the house, even though it was going to be a time of transition for everyone.
“I’m going to take your advice. I need some chill time. My head’s a little fuzzy.”
“Not going over to the hospital to see Neil, are you?” Leila’s tone told what she thought of that idea.
His sister Chris arrived in the waiting room shortly after the ambulance last night. Gabby had gone to tell her the news, rather than let her get a phone call from some random nurse. She’d even driven Chris to Bar Harbor, and back home after Neil was settled in a room. They’d all had a late night.
“No. I’m sure his sister is there. It’s her job now, to deal with the situation.” She stood, stretched her arms above her head and failed miserably when she tried to stifle a yawn. The phone on her desk rang as she was about to pick up her backpack.
“No—do not get that.” Leila punched buttons on her phone, transferred the call, then picked up. “Good morning, Anchor Women’s Services, Leila speaking.” A pause. “Certainly. Hang on a minute, please.”
She held a palm over the mouthpiece. “It’s for you. Kyle Brown.” She flashed a million-dollar smile as she handed the phone over.
“Good morning.”
She heard him take a deep breath. “Hey, I wonder if we can get together. Soon. I think we need to talk.”
His willingness to discuss what happened last night was wonderful. He’d hardly looked at her after Neil began to vomit, concentrating on his patient and avoiding her as if she were contagious.
“Yes, that’s a good idea. When?”
“Well, I just finished my shift. I know you’re working—”
“Leaving early, actually. Like, right now.”
He chuckled, and the sound warmed her heart. Maybe there was hope for them, if he wasn’t so upset he could be amused.
“Serendipitous. So, how about coffee on the dock? I’ll bring the coffee.”
“Sounds perfect. See you there.”
Chapter 39
Sitting dockside was nice but Chloe preferred the small pier in Lobster Cove to the wider, longer one in Bar Harbor. Although she had to admit the yachts gliding past were more impressive than the lobster boats she was accustomed to.
Wooden benches lined the pier. Kyle was nowhere in sight, so she chose a bench and waited. A deep breathing exercise to steady her nerves and a slash of lip gloss comprised the full preparation for the meeting. A far cry from the primping she’d undergone for their first date.
But this wasn’t a date, really. Was it?
More like an it’s-been-nice send-off. He seemed considerate enough to end things with a civil parting.
Coffee to hit the road by, she mused.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”
Kyle looked great even after working all night. He had on tight blue jeans, worn around the knees and loafers, scuffed at the toes. The light blue button-down shirt was unbuttoned at the neck and rolled up on his arms. Dark sunglasses.
He held two Styrofoam cups. “Okay, since I wasn’t sure which way you take your coffee, you’ve got first pick. In the left hand, black. In the right, light and sweet. What’ll it be?”
“I don’t want to take the one you want for yourself.”
“I’m a doctor. I’m used to drinking the mud at the bottom of the pot in the doctors’ lounge. It makes absolutely no difference to me—they both contain caffeine, and that’s the selling point in my world. So, choose.”
“Light and sweet.” She took the cup he handed her. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure.” He uncovered his cup, tasted the dark brew and nodded. “Just the way I like it—strong enough to keep a man awake but not so nasty it’ll send him to the moon.”
She tried hers. “Perfect.”
It was hard to know how to begin the conversation, so she put her full attention on the beverage. It went down smoothly, soothing the scratch in the back of her throat. She attributed that to the screaming she’d done last night.
<
br /> The thought he might be waiting for her to inquire about Neil crossed her mind but she had no intention of doing so.
“I don’t want to put you on the spot, so I’m going to say what I need to say first, if you don’t mind.”
She turned and met his gaze. Even with the sunglasses she could see his eyes. They were genuine, as they had been since the first time she looked into them.
“Okay. I know I’ve got some explaining to do…”
Kyle shook his head. “Not necessary.”
Her spirits fell. This was the kiss off. If not, he’d want to hear her side of things.
Better get it over with. “I’m listening.”
“All my life, I dreamed I’d meet a woman who—and I know this sounds stupid—would make my heart jump. I know, I know…I’m a physician. I’m aware hearts don’t jump, but it’s the truth. I’ve been around, dated my share of women, but no one caught my heart’s attention. Not saying they weren’t nice. Just saying they weren’t enough to make my heart respond.”
A yacht, This Is The Day painted across its stern, passed into view. A flying bridge and three decks made it impossible to miss. Bikini-clad women sunned themselves while a trio of bare-chested men wearing white shorts raised bottles in greeting to those watching.
“Would you like something like that someday?”
His question did not logically follow the conversation so she was surprised. Pointing with the hand that held her cup, she asked, “Like that?”
“Yeah, a luxurious, attention-grabbing queen of the seas…see yourself in one?”
“Not this girl. I’m not the yacht-lifestyle kind of chick.”
“Good to know.” He finished his coffee, put the empty cup on the dock beside his feet and turned to face her. “Listen, I’m trying to say that I never met a woman who made my heart jump—until I met you.”
The coffee she’d just sucked into her mouth went down the wrong way when she gasped. She choked, sputtered, and coughed. Her eyes teared, and she couldn’t speak.
Doctor training kicked in, because he was unperturbed by the display. The first thing he did was take the cup from her and place it beside his. He spoke in a reassuring tone as he pulled a pristine white handkerchief from his back pocket and handed it to her.