The M.D. Next Door

by Gina Wilkins

  They swam. Side by side, in long, matched strokes, sometimes pausing to laugh or splash. Or share a few more wet kisses. No racing or competing or dutifully counting laps, just swimming. Playing.

  When was the last time he’d played with a woman? No kids, no dogs, just two healthy adults having a good time, enjoying each other and the moment. He couldn’t even remember.

  He refused to deliberately compare Meagan to Colleen. That wouldn’t be fair to either of them. But he was only human, and he couldn’t help thinking that Colleen had never been one to encourage adult play. If she was in a pool, it was for exercise, pushing herself to the limits of her endurance, taking satisfaction from going a little farther each time.

  Pushing his ex-wife out of his mind, he focused on the woman in the water with him, instead.

  Sensor-operated security lights turned on as the sunlight faded to lavender and then to gray. The lights lent a warm illumination to the area, but were dimmed enough that the effect was more intimate than glaring. He and Meagan were spending more time now exploring each other than swimming. Kisses had become deep, penetrating embraces. Teasing touches slowed into long, arousing strokes. Their bodies came together, legs entwining beneath the surface of the water. Pressing Meagan against the side of the pool, Seth supported them when she wrapped her legs around his waist, her fingers clenched on his shoulders as he plunged his tongue deep into her warm, welcoming mouth.

  Secure within the privacy of her tall fence, he slipped her bathing suit straps from her shoulders, lowering the top slowly down her arms. He lifted her higher against the side of the pool, lowering his head to taste the creamy, wet flesh he’d uncovered. Meagan made a soft sound of pleasure and encouragement and arched to meet him. She moved rhythmically against his straining erection, drawing a groan from his throat.

  When she pushed against his shoulders, he almost groaned again. If she was calling a halt at this point, he knew he was in for a long, painfully sleepless night ahead. Considering the circumstances, he could understand her hesitation to carry this to the natural conclusion. He wouldn’t protest, wouldn’t try to change her mind—but damn, he would suffer.

  She drew a deep, shuddering breath, as though trying to regain enough air to sustain her voice. And then she gave him a smile that made his knees threaten to buckle.

  “Maybe we should take this inside before we both drown,” she murmured.

  At that moment, the risk of drowning seemed a very minor concern. It would almost be worth it, he thought, studying her floating so unselfconsciously in front of him.

  But then he returned her smile and held out his hand. “Lead the way.”

  Without bothering to straighten her suit, she turned and waded toward the pool steps, her fingers laced with his.

  Chapter Ten

  “Darn it, McCallum, either hold the retractors out of the way or give them to someone else.”

  “Sorry, Dr. Baker.” The medical student straightened sharply, focusing on her task of holding tissue out of the way so Meagan could complete the bowel resection currently underway. They’d been at it for five hours, but she had no sympathy for the third-year medical student whose job was simply to hold the retractors.

  “And watch that left arm. You break the sterile field at this point, I’ll break your fingers.”

  The student laughed nervously when the others gathered around the draped patient chuckled in response to Meagan’s only half teasing threat. They’d all heard it before. Every medical student had accidentally contaminated the sterile field—known as “the blue field” in the O.R.—at some point, but doing so always resulted in a stern censure from the surgeon, scrub tech or resident. Sometimes from all of them at once.

  Once the surgical team was scrubbed in, their arms could never drop below waist level, nor could they touch anything outside the sterile field without having to scrub out and then scrub back in. Most infractions were minor, but occasionally an entire tray of sterilized surgical tools had to be replaced, or even worse, a patient recovered in sterile blue drapes. Either of those could result in a tantrum from the surgeon or the scrub tech, most of whom were fiercely protective of their fields.

  “Light,” Meagan said, and her first assistant, an upper-level resident, hurriedly repositioned the sterile-draped articulated light pointed at the area where Meagan was working.

  Meagan figured in about another half hour she could step aside and let the eager resident close. She heard her cell phone beep to indicate she’d received a text message. Well out of the sterile area, the phone rested on a counter at the far side of the operating room. Looking over the mask that covered the lower half of her face, she glanced around at one of the “floater” nurses who stood outside the sterile periphery. “Mind reading that message for me?”

  It wasn’t an unusual request. Considering her grandmother’s precarious health, Meagan didn’t like to ignore messages unless she had to. The nurse, one Meagan had worked with numerous times in the past couple of years, punched a couple of buttons on the phone. A moment later, she said, “Someone named Seth said he’s sorry, but he’ll be about an hour late for dinner. He said send him a text back if you need to reply.”

  Not an emergency, then. Meagan relaxed and turned her attention back to her patient. “Thanks, Kathy.”

  “You’re welcome, Dr. Baker.”

  “Steady,” Meagan warned the med student, whose concentration appeared to be wandering again. The young woman snapped back into position.

  This one wouldn’t make a surgeon even had she wanted to become one, Meagan thought with a slight shake of her head. She had the attention span of a gnat.

  “So, Seth, huh?” Gale, the scrub tech and one of Meagan’s favorite coworkers, eyed her with a teasing smile crinkling the part of her brown face exposed by her surgical mask. “That’s not a name I’ve heard from you before. Someone you met while you were on vacation?”

  “It was hardly a vacation,” Meagan replied without glancing up from her suturing. “I was recuperating from surgery, remember?”

  “Someone you met while recuperating from surgery?” Gale asked, refusing to be sidetracked.

  “A neighbor.”

  “Single neighbor?”

  “I wouldn’t be having dinner with a married neighbor. Well, not just with him—oh, you know what I mean.”

  The medical student looked with rounded eyes from Gale to Meagan and back again, but no one else paid much attention to the joking. A couple of other discussions were taking place around them, underscored by the soft rock music Meagan preferred listening to while she worked.

  “I’m going to want details, you know, especially if you’re getting serious with some dude.”

  Meagan glanced up from the bowel long enough to wink at the scrub tech. “You know I’m not one to kiss and tell, Gale.”

  Gale laughed. “So, there is something to tell?”

  Shaking her head with exaggerated regret, Meagan heaved a sigh. “No. He’s a cutie, but a single dad. You know how that goes.”

  “Uh-huh. Dr. Baker’s famous rules of engagement.” Having tried once unsuccessfully to arrange a blind date between Meagan and a divorced friend with a couple of kids, Gale knew exactly how Meagan had always felt about getting involved with single dads.

  “Hey, they’ve worked for me so far.” Meagan nodded toward the resident to adjust the light another fraction and bent over her work again.

  Gale started to continue the teasing, but then whirled toward the beleaguered medical student.

  “Watch that arm!” she snapped, protecting her imperiled blue field like a guard dog on patrol. “Didn’t Dr. Baker just tell you to keep that left arm up?”

  “Sorry,” the young woman muttered, shifting her weight uncomfortably in the awkward position she had maintained for most of the past five hours.

  Stripping off her mask and gloves, her phone stowed now in the pocket of her scrubs, Meagan left the O.R. twenty minutes later. The very capable resident was closing, which
made the med student first assistant for the next few minutes. Heaven help them all.

  She thought she’d handled Gale’s teasing about Seth well enough, keeping it light, making it sound as though this was nothing more than a passing flirtation. Which, of course, she supposed it was, since neither she nor Seth had made any reference to the future during the days that had passed since he’d joined her in the pool—and in her bed.

  They had been together four times since then, mostly on weekends when they both had a little more free time. She had enjoyed every minute she’d spent with him. They’d laughed and talked, swam and played her favorite word game at her house, avoiding the blazing heat that had come with July. They’d rented a couple of movies and snuggled in his den with popcorn and sodas. And they’d made love. Oh, had they made love.

  Yet in all those lovely hours together, they had not once talked of anything particularly important. They mentioned Alice, of course, more in the context of how she was enjoying her travels than any talk of when she would return. They shared a few funny anecdotes from their pasts—high school, college, law school and med school—but no speculation about their futures, separate or otherwise.

  Though they weren’t hiding out, exactly, they didn’t go out in public, nor did they invite other people in. Perhaps neither wanted to share the other’s attention. At least, that was the way Meagan felt. They made loose plans—such as for tonight’s dinner—but nothing more than a few days ahead. And nothing at all beyond Alice’s return in just under two weeks.

  She told herself that was fine. If all she and Seth had was another two weeks, more or less, then they would make the most of those two weeks. For two weeks, she could make a little extra time in her schedule to spend with him. Get home a little earlier once in a while, as he seemed to be trying to do for her, despite whatever had come up today. And when the two weeks ended Seth could concentrate completely on his job and his daughter again and she would renew her commitment to her own career, both of them refreshed and recharged from their virtual vacation together.

  A passing flirtation. Nothing more.

  That was what she wanted everyone to believe, anyway. Including herself.

  During the next seven days, Seth had to cancel plans they’d made once when something came up at work. Meagan had to cancel once and was called away by her mother just as they were sitting down to dinner another time. On the second Tuesday in July, only four days before Alice was due home on Saturday, they finally managed to eat an entire meal at her place. Both were exhausted after a particularly long, demanding day at their jobs, so they had a late dinner of Chinese takeout Meagan had picked up on the way home.

  Since Alice had left for her trip, Seth had told Jacqui there was no need for her to cook dinners, letting her leave a little earlier each evening. He’d fended for himself when he or Meagan had other plans, and joined her for quick meal preparations or takeout when they were both available.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way,” Seth said, eyeing her across the dinner table. “But you look wiped out.”

  She smiled faintly. “No offense taken. I guess I am a little tired tonight. I did a routine, hour-long procedure at seven this morning, then started an operation that should have taken about five hours but that ended up taking eight, instead. Complications. And I still had another forty-five minute procedure and rounds to do after that. A little more hectic than usual.”

  He frowned in sympathy. “Did the patient survive? The one with complications?”

  “Yes, though it’ll be touch and go for the next twenty-four hours. I’m cautiously optimistic about his full recovery.”

  “Eight hours.” He shook his head. “On your feet that entire time bent over a patient?”

  “I don’t really have to bend over. We position the patient to give me comfortable access. Some operations take even longer than that one.”

  “So during those long operations do you—uh, take breaks? You know, if you have to?”

  “Let’s just say I don’t drink a lot of liquids before surgery in the mornings,” she explained with a smile, having encountered this question before. “I can descrub during an operation if I have to, then scrub back in as soon as possible afterward. It’s not as though the patient is left without care if I take a ten-minute break. There are assistants—resident and med student, an anesthesiologist, nurses and the scrub tech—all available as needed. But I try not to leave during a procedure unless it is necessary.”

  “I can tell comfortable shoes are a must for your job.”

  “No kidding. And we’re provided good rubber mats to stand on—unlike the med students who usually have to stand on a hard stool in a very uncomfortable position to hold retractors or whatever else we need them to do,” she added wryly. “I was just glad I didn’t have McCallum holding the retractor—a third-year med student rotating through surgery this month. She’s got a reputation for letting her mind wander. I had to snap at her several times during surgery last week and I heard Dr. Bellsmith threw one of his famous tantrums in her direction.”

  “Ouch. That sounds painful.”

  “Trust me, it is. I was the lucky recipient of one of those tantrums when I was an intern and made a stupid mistake.”

  “A mistake? You? Don’t believe it.”

  She chuckled. “I’ve made my share.”

  “We had this professor in law school—Dr. Szabo—man, could he yell. He had a reputation for throwing out random questions totally unrelated to anything he happened to be lecturing about, and if you didn’t instantly produce the answer he wanted you could expect to be called an idiot and a poseur who should be cleaning toilets rather than studying law. And that was if he was in a good mood.”

  She laughed softly. “That sounds like the voice of experience.”

  He grinned. “I’ve made my share of mistakes, too.”

  It was nice sitting there in her dining room, the lights dimmed, candles flickering between them, instrumental music playing softly from a hidden speaker. She’d figured the least she could do since they were having takeout was to arrange a nice atmosphere in which to enjoy it. Especially since they’d been able to enjoy so few of these moments together. And had so few left to share.

  Their gazes met and she spent a moment admiring the way the candlelight flickered in his green eyes, turning them to glittering emeralds. He reached out to place a hand over hers on the table, his thumb rubbing gently against her skin. “When I said you looked tired? Doesn’t mean you aren’t still beautiful.”

  Was he still worried that he had offended her with the observation? She resisted the impulse to argue that she wasn’t beautiful, which would have sounded like fishing for compliments, and settled for a simple, “Thank you.”

  And then she quickly changed the subject. “Can I get you anything else? More tea? Something for dessert?”

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  He still held her hand. She turned her wrist so that their fingers interlaced. “Then what would you like to do for the rest of the evening?” she asked with a little smile. “A swim, maybe? Some TV?”

  Standing, he drew her to her feet and into his arms. “I’m sure we’ll think of something to pass the time,” he murmured, his mouth hovering just over hers.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and rose on tiptoes to brush her lips lightly, teasingly against his. “I’m sure we—”

  They groaned in unison when the buzz of a phone cut off her words. It wasn’t hers, she realized, grateful that she wasn’t responsible for the interruption this time.

  “I’m sorry.” Seth grimaced as he drew the buzzing device from his pocket.

  She turned to start clearing the table. “No problem. You can take the call in the living room if you like.”

  Nodding apologetically, he held the phone to his ear as he left the room. “Hello?”

  Moments later, she heard him say in a raised voice, “Are you kidding me? At this hour?” And she knew their evening was over.

  When
he rejoined her a few minutes later, she might have considered his sheepish expression rather adorable had she not been so disappointed.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again.

  “You have to go.”

  He nodded. “I would have refused if it hadn’t been so important. A problem with one of the firm’s biggest clients. Some reports that have to be filed by eight o’clock tomorrow morning and it turns out they weren’t completed when I thought they were, so I guess I have to—”

  “You don’t have to explain, Seth,” she interrupted gently. “Go. Take care of your client. At least we got to finish dinner this time.”

  His mouth twisted in what was probably intended to be a smile, but ended up being a regretful grimace. “This wasn’t the way I wanted the evening to end.”

  “I know.”

  “Maybe tomorrow we can—?”

  This time she was the one forced to express regrets. “I have a dinner with the chief of surgery. It could last rather late.”

  “Thursday, then.”

  “I’m on call Thursday night, but I’ll be home unless I’m needed at the hospital.”

  “Then we’ll plan to get together then—and to stay close to your phone.”

  She nodded. “Sounds good.”

  And after Thursday, there would be only one evening before Alice’s return, she thought with a painful swallow. For Seth’s sake, she was glad the time was passing so quickly before Alice was back home again. But if she were being strictly selfish, she would make those days pass a little more slowly, giving her a few more evenings to pretend she and Seth had all the time in the world together.

  He kissed her lingeringly before moving reluctantly back. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Good night, Seth. I hope you get some sleep tonight.”

  The look he gave her held a world of frustration. “I doubt I’ll be sleeping very well tonight, no matter how long these reports take,” he muttered, then spun and walked away almost angrily.