He watched her bend over the pool table to line up her shot in the very short, very tight, red skirt.
It should have been working and then some. She was totally his type. Curvy and brunette and completely aware of exactly how to use her assets to the max.
She also wanted Ben. There was no way he, or anyone in the general vicinity, could have missed that—and that’s all she wanted. She wasn’t concerned about him eating junk food or drinking too much and she sure as hell didn’t expect him to spend day and night combing the streets for some punk kid who wasn’t smart enough to keep his ass in the hospital after a major surgery.
Amber made her shot and gave Ben a sultry smile over her shoulder.
And he wasn’t tempted at all.
Even though he was doing everything he could to be tempted. He was watching her every move, flirting, letting her touch him, even doing some touching himself. Reluctantly. Which was damn stupid.
But it didn’t mean anything. It was probably her perfume or something that was turning him off. Eventually, he would meet someone that would make him lose his mind with lust and passion, that would make him laugh and make him feel more contented by simply being with her than he’d ever felt before.
Well, someone besides Jessica.
Until then, he needed liquor.
Lots of it.
He’d contemplated starting the annihilation of several brain and liver cells right after leaving Jessica’s apartment. No bars or pool halls were open that early but there were a couple of all-night liquor stores between her place and his.
But he’d gone home and hit the workout room in his apartment complex instead. He hadn’t wanted to play pool in the first place. It was just the first thing that came to mind when he was pushing Jess.
It was only fair that he push her, since she was constantly pushing him.
Pushing and testing and challenging him. Then what had she done when he’d tested her? She’d said she loved him anyway. And he believed her.
What drove him to drink after the bar did finally open was the disappointment he’d seen in her eyes.
She loved him and Ben knew that to Jessica that meant she would never tell him to get the hell out of her life, no matter what he did.
Look at how she was with the kids at the Bradford Center. They screwed up, repeatedly, and Jessica was always there to patch them up, tell them they were important and give them what they needed.
She would do the same for Ben.
But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t hate how he acted sometimes. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t drive her crazy. That didn’t mean that she wouldn’t sometimes wish she’d fallen in love with someone else.
He could be with her. All he had to do was be okay with breaking her heart over and over again.
He reached for his glass as he watched Amber move to the other side of the table. Why couldn’t he be with her? The whiff of whiskey made his stomach lurch. He’d had the same glass in front of him for almost an hour. The other people around were too far into their drinks to notice, but Ben was feeling like the wuss they would have accused him of being. Maybe he should try beer.
But the beer in the glass of the guy sitting next to him reminded him of a urine sample.
Rum, vodka, brandy—nothing else sounded good either.
The music from the jukebox sounded obnoxious, the pool game was boring, the jokes were stupid and the pretzels were stale.
Ben leaned his elbow on the bar and turned to survey the room. This was exactly what he thought he wanted. He didn’t have to go to work tomorrow, he had a bar full of people willing and able to party, women willing and able to get naked, and a bartender willing and able to pour as much liquor as he could handle.
And Ben felt lonely, restless, bored and empty.
Empty.
Shit.
It was Jessica’s fault. He kept seeing how she’d looked at him when she’d realized he was letting her down.
If he went to her apartment she would let him in. She’d let him into her bed, her life, in spite of it all. But could he be with her knowing that he would see that look on her face again? Could he live with that? Could he handle knowing he was breaking her heart over and over?
The answer was simple. No way.
He loved her, wanted her, was miserable without her.
One of the things he loved about her was the way she stood by the people she believed in, whether they deserved it or not.
But he couldn’t just take her love. He had to be the man she deserved, a man who deserved her.
And he was even more screwed than that.
He missed the hospital.
That morning with Jessica, he’d been focused on how pissed off he was at Mario for not taking care of himself.
But being at the hospital over the last few days, analyzing tests, putting together the pieces that led to a diagnosis, executing a plan to fix the problem, the clockwork of the team, even the noises and smells had slammed into him and made him like being in the damn place.
He hadn’t used that kind of brainpower in so long that it felt like the endorphin high from a hard workout. And the triumph of finding the problem and fixing it had rekindled something in his soul—as corny as it sounded even in his head.
It wasn’t his fault. He’d practically been born a doctor. His dad had taken him along on his rounds at the hospital when Ben was barely old enough to walk; he’d been holding a stethoscope before he could throw a ball; he’d helped with cleaning and bandaging wounds in Africa before he could drive.
He hated losing patients, he hated that some people would always take their health and the American medical system for granted, but the truth was, there wasn’t anything else he’d rather do. The good days were good and he now knew that Jessica could make the bad days better.
Jessica.
She’d forgiven him when he acted like an ass.
Maybe he could forgive Mario. And the others who didn’t make good choices, who screwed up, who didn’t always meet his expectations.
Yeah, Jessica was a pro at forgiveness. She’d teach him how.
Ben tossed back his soda and then threw two twenties on the bar to cover his eight dollar tab.
He knew how he needed to start.
Twenty minutes later he strode through the doors to the ER. The personnel around the front desk all froze for several seconds, then everyone started talking at once. With only half a mind on what they were saying and asking, Ben scanned the assignment board and then turned toward room three.
On his way he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He’d turned it off when he’d stormed out of Jessica’s apartment, but now turned it back on, ready to be responsible again and back in contact with the real world.
He had nine voice mail messages.
Eight were from Sam. He didn’t want to be preached at by Jessica’s brother, especially after his friend had witnessed him being such a prick.
The other call was not Jessica, so he ignored it too.
Ben tossed his cell phone to Rita, the front desk clerk. “Answer that if it rings.”
“Sure thing, Dr. Torres.” Rita had been a fan of Ben’s ever since he’d worked on her grandson after a snowmobile accident.
As he came through the swinging doors of room three, trauma physician Matt Taylor looked up from intubating the patient on the table.
“Your surgical consult is here,” Ben said simply.
A nurse held a gown suspended toward Ben out of habit, but paused to look at Matt.
“You’re…” Matt started.
“Back,” Ben filled in.
Matt looked at him for a long moment. Then he gave a single nod. “About damn time.”
Two hours later, someone knocked on and opened the door to the film viewing room. “Dr. Torres?” a female voice asked hesitantly.
He didn’t turn from the x-rays hanging in front of him. “Yeah?”
“Your phone, Dr. Torres,” the woman said. “It’s Sam Bradford. He’s… rather insistent
about talking to you.”
He could only imagine.
“Fine.” He held out his hand and the nurse gave him the phone. He took a deep breath before putting the phone to his ear.
He prayed that Sam was calling about Mario. Ben had already checked with all the ERs in the city, hoping Mario had wised up and checked in with a doctor when he realized he’d left the hospital too soon.
So far, no one had seen him.
What bothered Ben the most was that he knew Mario was a smart kid. Now that Ben had calmed down some he realized that Mario might have had a good reason to leave.
That didn’t mean that it was any less dangerous though.
“Did you find the kid?” he asked in lieu of a standard greeting.
“Where the hell are you?”
“Did you find him?” Ben repeated. “If not, I’m too busy to talk.”
“Yeah, we found him. He’s at the hospital. When he found out Sophie was in labor he went to be with her. But he blacked out.”
Ben’s chin dropped to his chest and he squeezed his eyes shut. “Dammit.”
“Get your ass down there,” Sam said. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Ben shook his head back and forth even though his friend couldn’t see him. “I can’t do anything, Sam.”
“Bullshit!” Sam barked. “I’ll come drag you down there if I have to. This kid deserves the best surgeon I can find and Ben, trust me, I’ll find you.” Sam’s tone was ominous.
“I’m not a damn neurosurgeon, Sam!” The sentence was still traveling over the phone line to Sam when Ben realized that he wanted to be the one. He wanted to be the surgeon for Mario. But this was a neuro case.
They would let him scrub in though.
Ben switched off the light to the viewing box and headed for the door.
“No, Ben,” Sam was saying in his ear. “It’s not his head. They found more internal bleeding.
“Damn,” Ben breathed. “I missed it.”
“It was small. The spleen. It was…”
“Has he regained consciousness?” Ben interrupted, not wanting to hear condolences. He’d missed a small splenic tear. It wasn’t uncommon. He’d found and repaired the two major lacerations. Then there was the hematoma. But still, he’d missed the small tear that had continued bleeding. Son of a bitch.
“I don’t know. I doubt it. They were taking him straight to the OR after they found the bleed.”
Ben didn’t remember turning toward the elevators but when the doors didn’t open immediately, he headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time.
“You have to be there,” Sam said, his voice having lost some of its earlier heat.
“I’m already here.” He pushed the door open from the stairwell and stepped onto the surgical floor.
“Where?”
“The hospital. It’s a long story.”
“But you’ll be there? You’ll go in with Mario?” Sam asked, clearly not caring why Ben was there.
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?” Sam pressed.
“Sam,” Ben said seriously as he located Mario’s name on the assignment board. “There is nothing that could keep me out of that OR. Trust me.”
Open-toed, flip-flop sandals were not any better than stiletto-heeled boots for pacing a waiting room, Jessica realized only fifteen minutes into the wait during Mario’s third surgery.
The bright orange plastic was cute by the pool but not at all for comfort. They had simply been the first shoes she’d seen in her closet. She’d kicked the shoes off for pacing but her bare feet on the hard, thinly carpeted floor wasn’t much better.
Her feet hurt and her toes were cold. She was exhausted, and hungry and her heart hurt. But more than anything, or rather adding to everything, was the fact that she was here alone.
She should be used to it. She’d been going it alone ever since her dad died. Sara had been too young to help out with more than some dusting or dishes once in a while and Sam had never been the type to jump in and give respite. He also responded very poorly to threats and guilt, though bribes had worked from time to time.
Until now, though, she hadn’t realized how much she’d trusted that Ben would be there with her at times like this.
Jessica rested her head against the window, the glass cool from the air conditioner vent above where she stood. Whether or not she should be well-practiced in being on her own, she was nevertheless right in the middle of wanting some company.
“Jessica?”
She whirled to find Sara coming from the elevator.
The two women met in the middle of the waiting area, hugging one another tightly.
“How are the kids?” Jessica finally asked.
Sara pulled back and took a deep breath. “Dealing. A couple of the volunteers came down to sit and talk with them so I could come over here. They brought burgers.” She shrugged. “That can’t hurt.”
Jessica smiled. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“So, what do you know so far?” Sara asked, moving toward the coffee pot.
“Nothing.”
Sara frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing. No one’s been out to tell me anything.”
“But Ben’s got to know how worried you are. I would think he’d send someone out to give you an update.” Sara poured a cup, her back to Jessica.
Jessica frowned. “Ben? What are you talking about?”
Sara turned, frowning too. “Ben. Ben Torres. The surgeon you’re sleeping with.”
Jessica felt tears sting her eyes and she pressed her lips together for a moment. Ben was so much more than that. At least he had been. She wasn’t sure what he was at the moment. “Ben isn’t here, Sara. He…” This part was tough to explain. “He refused to come when he found out that Mario left against medical advice.”
Sara looked confused. “But he didn’t leave AMA. He was upstairs with Sophie.”
Jessica sighed. “I know. But Ben doesn’t know that. And he’s not answering his cell phone and he’s not at home. Ben was angry, and hurt, by what he thought Mario had done and he stormed out of my apartment this morning.”
Sara’s jaw dropped. “Seriously? He walked away?”
Jessica nodded, trying to block the memory of the look on Ben’s face as he’d left her apartment. It was that look of just try to stop me that she’d worn so many times herself.
“He was upset. It’s complicated.”
“But Mario needed him. It shouldn’t matter if Mario left or not.” Sara’s voice rose slightly and her coffee seemed forgotten. She gestured with her other hand as she spoke. “Ben’s a doctor. He’s Mario’s doctor. He can’t just walk away!”
Jessica frowned. “Ben’s not perfect, Sara. He’s just a man. He has feelings too. He worked his tail off for Mario. And he thought Mario was throwing it all away. We all did until we heard where they found him.”
“That’s no excuse!” Sara declared. “Mario needed him. Wow, I thought Ben was a good guy; that we could count on him, but now—”
“Knock it off!” Jessica snapped. “Of course we can count on him.”
Sara stopped talking and stared at her sister.
Jessica wasn’t done. “Ben is one of the best guys I know. He cared enough about Mario to be upset that Mario was putting himself in danger. So, he got mad. Ben doesn’t just do a job, Sara. He gets involved. And that sometimes takes a lot out of him. But I would rather he be like that in his heart and serve coffee, than be a surgeon who doesn’t know or care about who’s on the table.”
Sara nodded, her eyes wide. “Good. I’m…glad. Maybe I spoke too soon…”
“Jessica?”
She turned away from Sara to find Russ Edwards coming into the waiting area. Jessica was breathing fast, adrenaline pumping from the confrontation with her sister and from the realizations about her feelings for Ben.
“What?” she asked, bordering on rudeness and not caring.
“About our agreement…”
/> She couldn’t take any more of this. She’d blown the promotion and she didn’t care. She spread her arms wide. “I don’t know where Ben is. I didn’t convince him to come back to work and I know you expect to hear that I’m sorry, but I’m not.” She took a deep breath. “Ben is a wonderful physician, one of the best, in fact. But more importantly he’s a wonderful man. The best I’ve ever known. And I’m done trying to do anything other than love him.” She pointed a finger at Russ and narrowed her eyes. “Leave him alone. He’ll figure it out.”
“It?” Russ asked, composed in spite of her finger pointing at him.
“What he’s supposed to be doing,” she said.
“And what if he chooses the coffee shop?” Russ asked.
“Then he’ll be the best at that too.”
Russ reached inside his jacket and pulled a long white envelope from the inside pocket. He walked forward and handed it to her. “You’re going to be a hell of a head nurse.”
The envelope had the hospital’s return address and insignia in the upper left hand corner.
“This is…”
“Your recommendation letter from me for ER Director.”
Oh.
Jessica looked up at Russ, her cheeks burning. “I thought…”
“I know,” Russ said.
“Russ, I…”
“Don’t worry about it. It will be a pleasure working with you.”
Luke Pierson, one of St. Anthony’s trauma surgeons, entered the room, pulling a scrub cap from his head.
Jessica and Sara turned in unison, momentarily forgetting Russ.
“Is he okay?” Sara asked, rushing to Luke’s side.
“He’s a tough kid,” Luke said of Mario. “He’s back together and his vitals are stable.”
Jessica nearly crumpled the precious recommendation letter in her hand. “Thank you, God,” she breathed.
“It’s early, but I expect to see him doing well over the next few hours.”
Jessica grabbed Luke in a spontaneous hug. “Thank you. Thank you.”
“I didn’t…” Luke stopped as he stepped back and cleared his throat. His eyes flickered over her shoulder to Russ, then back to Jessica. He gave her a small smile. “I’m part of a whole team. We’re just doin’ our jobs.”
Just Right: The Bradfords, Book 1 Page 28