“Yeah.” His mouth pulled tight for a moment. “The babies aren’t out of the woods, but I was satisfied that their temps were under control and their breathing was better.”
“The attention of a loving mother, one-on-one, is probably the best medicine given the circumstances.”
“There was nothing else we could do for them here,” he agreed. “I gave them detailed instructions on care and my cell phone number. They have orders to call with any questions or concerns. And I told them what to watch for that could be trouble.”
“Yeah. Like you said. It’s either the hospital or home—” A yawn sneaked out before she could finish her thought.
“Speaking of home, I’m giving you strict instructions to get out of here.”
“Sir, yes, sir.” Dawn saluted. “There’s only one problem with that.”
“What?”
“To follow your orders I have to get up,” she said. “I hate that part.”
He stood and held out his hand. “Allow me.”
“Thanks.” She put her fingers in his palm and let him pull her up. Then the room began to spin and she started to go down.
Jon caught her, wrapped her in strong arms before gently settling her into the chair again. Then he went down on one knee in front of her, concern darkening his gaze as he checked her out. “You’re white as a sheet. I’m guessing that’s about being tired or hungry. Or both.”
She touched a shaky hand to her forehead. “Now that I think about it, I don’t remember eating lunch today.”
“I should have paid more attention. Damn it.” He looked angry, but it seemed directed at himself. “We’re no good to the patients if we don’t take care of ourselves. From now on there will be mandatory lunch breaks. We’ll cover for each other, no matter how busy it is. Next time say something.”
“Excellent idea, Doctor.” She slapped her hands on her thighs and prepared to stand. “Right now I think I’ll go home, have a bowl of cereal and crawl into bed.”
“You call that taking care of yourself?” If possible he looked even angrier. “Cereal is not a well-balanced meal.”
“I don’t have the energy for more than that. And there’s no place in Rust Creek Falls that is open for takeout at this hour.”
“Not even the Ace in the Hole?”
“They stop serving food at nine,” she confirmed.
“Okay.” He stood and settled his hands on his hips. “Plan B.”
“And that is?”
“My place. Steak. I have one defrosted in the refrigerator and planned to throw it on the grill when I got home. Just didn’t think it would be this late. I can throw together a salad and microwave a couple of potatoes for us.”
“Oh, no. I can’t let you—”
“I insist. After letting you starve all day, it’s my duty to feed you.”
She sighed then and nodded wearily. “But only because I’m too weak and tired to argue.”
She wasn’t so weak that her insides weren’t all quivery, though. The prospect of spending time with him outside of work sent a shot of adrenaline through her that chased away exhaustion. She wanted to be alarmed about what could happen if they were alone, but quite frankly, she didn’t have the energy to give a damn. Surely they could hang out as friends. Coworkers did it all the time.
He held out his hand again to help her up. “Slowly this time.”
She did as instructed, half hoping he would have to catch her again. Because now her senses were wide-awake and cranking up the heat and awareness.
Jon refused to let her drive herself and insisted he didn’t mind bringing her back for her car. In a short time they pulled up in front of his house and Rerun enthusiastically greeted them at the door. Yipping and whining he danced around them until Jon ordered him to stop. Instantly he rolled on his back to get tummy rubs.
Dawn was delighted to oblige and swore the dog was smiling when she gave in. “It must be nice to come home to unconditional love like this.”
“If you weren’t here, I’d be on scratch-the-dog shift and dinner would have to wait.” He went straight to the kitchen and washed his hands, then started assembling dinner. “But on long days—like today—I feel guilty because he’s here by himself. I’m glad my brother and his wife are close by.”
She scratched Rerun under his chin, then looked up when the back door opened and Jon went outside to deal with the barbecue. “Do you need any help?”
“No. Just relax.”
Already done, she thought, brushing a hand over the three-legged animal’s back. It was amazing how the day’s tension just drained away. But the guilt of sitting there and doing nothing was too much so she pushed to her feet with a groan and walked into the kitchen, where Jon was opening a bottle of red wine.
He met her gaze. “Would you like some?”
“Do doctors and nurses make the worst patients?” She made a scoffing sound. “Of course I want some.”
“Do you care whether or not it breathes before I pour?”
“You could put it in a plastic cup with a straw and I wouldn’t judge at all.”
“A girl after my own heart.” There was just the slightest ragged edge to his voice but he covered it with a grin. “I may be a bachelor but I’m a bachelor with standards.” He opened a top cupboard, took out two stemless wineglasses and poured some of the dark red liquid into each.
The kitchen was set off from the living room by a bar and she stood on the other side of it. He handed her a glass, then said, “Let’s drink to healthy children.”
“Amen.” She tapped her glass to his and took a sip. And another. “You really like kids, don’t you?”
“Yes.” He took an already washed container of spring greens from the refrigerator and made two individual salads. “Oil and vinegar dressing okay?”
“Fine.”
While the microwave hummed with nuking potatoes, he put plates and silverware on the table. Rerun looked up at him with longing and he said, “Later, buddy. Gotta put the steak on. Be good and you can have some.”
Dawn followed him outside and watched him set the meat on the grill. With a sigh she glanced up at the sky. “It’s beautiful out here.”
“Yeah. Beautiful.” He was looking over his shoulder and light from inside illuminated an exciting intensity in his eyes. “How do you like your steak cooked?”
“Medium rare.”
“Me, too.”
Another sign, she thought hazily. The wine was really hitting her on an empty stomach. But the coolest thing about rocking a buzz was that she didn’t care about the filter between her brain and mouth being put out of commission.
“So why do you like kids?” she asked.
Those broad shoulders on full display lifted in a casual shrug. He turned the steak and there was a burst of flames before he shut the top of the barbecue and turned to her. “They’re cute. Funny. Honest. What’s not to like?”
“Is that why you became a pediatrician?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want kids of your own?”
His gaze narrowed on her. “Do you?”
“Fair enough. You don’t want to talk about it.” She didn’t, either.
“Complicated subject.”
“I know what you mean.” A catch-22 situation for her. She wouldn’t have kids without a man in her life and she didn’t trust men enough to let one in. They had already agreed not to go there, so discussing it was pointless.
“The steaks look done,” he finally said.
The smoky smell drifted to her and made her mouth water. “And not a moment too soon. It’s official. I’m seriously starving.”
Inside they sat across from each other at the small table and filled their plates. Rerun settled beside Jon and promptly fell asleep. For several minu
tes the only sound in the room was utensils cutting meat and forks scraping plates.
Dawn finished first. “That was quite possibly the best meal I’ve ever had in my entire life.”
“I would take that as a compliment if you weren’t in starvation mode when you ate.” He left a small amount of steak on his plate, probably because he’d promised Rerun. “I feel much better now.”
“Ditto.”
She really expected him to say just leave the dishes and he would take her home. It would be for the best that she agree and say she needed to get her car at the clinic and call it a night. But she wasn’t ready to leave yet and go back to just seeing him at work. Dragging out this moment with him suddenly seemed vitally important.
So instead of the right thing she said, “You cooked. Let me do the dishes.”
“No way. I don’t have a dishwasher and letting you do the grunt work just isn’t going to happen. But you can help.”
“Okay,” she said happily.
Normally the mundane chore was annoying but necessary. With Jon, soaping up their dishes, then rinsing and handing them to him for drying was like a roller coaster ride at the state fair. Fortunately the buzz still making her glow from the inside out didn’t let her consider how many ways that feeling was trouble.
“Done,” he announced five minutes later after everything was cleaned, dried and put away.
“Would you mind if we sat outside for a few minutes? After being cooped up in the clinic all day the fresh air would feel so wonderful.”
“You’re reading my mind.” He turned off the overhead kitchen lights and turned on a living room lamp for a more serene atmosphere.
Or maybe he was going for romantic?
Her heart skipped as she preceded him out the door into the cool night air. Just outside there was a wooden bench built for two where they sat down side by side and leaned against the cabin’s back wall. Their shoulders brushed and she could almost see sparks floating in the darkness, as if someone had tossed a log on the embers of a fire to rekindle it. Every nerve ending in her body was tingling and aware. Her skin was sensitized, aching to be touched. And there was an ache in her chest, too, because she wanted to kiss him and didn’t dare.
Dawn let out a big sigh. “Food and relaxation. You really know how to keep a promise, Doctor. I don’t appreciate enough how beautiful it is here. The stars are like gold dust in the sky.”
“Well said.”
She started to say more but couldn’t hold back a yawn. “Sorry. It’s not the company. No offense.”
“None taken.”
“There’s something about having a full stomach that makes a person sleepy. I’m sure there’s a physiological reason for that.”
“Would you like to hear it?” There was a smile in his voice.
“Maybe some other time. It would probably put me to sleep.” She heard the way that sounded. “Not that you’re boring.”
“Way to slice and dice a guy’s ego.”
She laughed and then a companionable silence settled over them. She sat there quietly while the wine and Jon’s warm body beside her combined to make her drowsy. Her head was so heavy and the most natural thing in the world was to rest it against his strong shoulder. And that’s the last thing she remembered.
* * *
Dawn opened her eyes and was startled to be alone in a bed that wasn’t hers and still wearing her scrubs from work. Then it all came rushing back. Jon had brought her to his place. After dinner they sat outside where she must have fallen asleep. The room was dim, but through the open door she could see light. “Jon...” she whispered.
She sat up and swung her legs to the side of the bed and slid to the floor. Her sneakers were there and she figured he must have taken them off, without waking her no less. How sweet and considerate was that?
After bending over to grab them, she went into the other room. Jon was sitting on the couch, his back to her. There was a bottle of water on the end table beside him and a lamp casting soft light.
“Jon?” She walked around and sat at the other end of the seen-better-days sofa and set her shoes on the floor.
“You’re awake.” He looked at her for a moment, tenderness sliding into his eyes just before they turned dark and smoky.
The expression was unguarded, involuntary, and her whole body responded. Heat turned up on hormones already simmering.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Late.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“You were sleeping.”
That was the second time he’d said that to her today. Or maybe it was tomorrow. She didn’t really want to know. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to nod off. How rude is that.”
“You were tired.”
“The last thing I remember is going outside. How did I get into your bedroom?”
“I carried you.”
Well, she was very sorry to have missed that but the thought sent a shivery feeling through her. “If I’d known that was going to happen, I wouldn’t have eaten so much for dinner.”
One corner of his mouth turned up. “Is this where I grunt like a caveman?”
“Did you throw me over your shoulder?”
“No.”
“Then no grunt required,” she assured him. “Too bad Rust Creek Falls doesn’t have a chiropractor. You’re probably going to need one to adjust your back.”
“You’re pretty light.”
“And you’re quite gallant.” They smiled at each other for a moment too long and she needed to break the spell. “However, at the risk of pushing the gallant thing too far, I really should get home.”
“Right.”
Dawn watched him drag his fingers through his hair, the gesture somehow highlighting his own fatigue.
“I should have brought my own car. You’re just as tired as I am. Probably more. I had a nap. I really hate for you to drive me to Rust Creek Falls, then have to come all the way back here. Maybe I could take your truck and—”
“No. I’m not letting you go alone this time of night. I’ll take you.”
“I’m sorry, Jon. It’s so late—”
“Just stay.”
She was pretty sure he hadn’t meant to say that. And it was probably her imagination or just exhaustion-induced hallucinations, but his voice sounded ragged, needy. As if he wanted her.
“What?” she asked. “You mean here?”
He nodded, then said again, “Stay.”
How could a single word steal the breath right out of her lungs? It wasn’t as if he’d said he wanted to take her to bed. Come to think of it he’d already done that and left her there alone. He hadn’t even tried to take advantage of her, darn it.
“Dawn?”
“I don’t know.” If he was her sister or a girlfriend she wouldn’t even hesitate. But he was Jon and she was trying to resist a stubborn attraction that threatened a nicely budding friendship. “But, you and me— How is this—”
“I’ll sleep here on the couch.”
“It’s pretty lumpy and uncomfortable. No offense,” she added.
“It’s an old one that Will and Jordyn Leigh put in here when they remodeled the main house.” He shrugged. “It’s not much worse than the cot in the on-call room where I crashed at the hospital during my residency.”
“It doesn’t feel right to put you out of your bed. I’ll take the couch.”
He shook his head. “No you won’t. It’s impossible to sleep on this thing.”
“So you lied.” At his questioning look she added, “When you said you’d sleep here.”
“You’re splitting hairs,” he said.
“Be that as it may...”
“I’m used to it.”
“So you often spend the nig
ht on this thing?” She folded her arms over her chest.
He sighed as frustration and something else swirled in his eyes. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re incredibly stubborn?”
“It’s one of my best qualities.” She stared at him for several moments, locked in a stalemate. His face was drawn and his eyes dull. She was concerned about him getting some rest and that made it an easy call. She was going to stay. “Look, let’s just share the bed.”
“Dawn, that’s not—”
“We’re adults. It’s not a problem. And, quite frankly, this debate is seriously cutting into my beauty sleep.” She thought he muttered something like “You don’t need it,” but couldn’t be sure. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“So, we’re sharing the bed, right?” She stood up and met his gaze.
“Whatever you say.”
Without further ado, Dawn went into the bedroom first. There was a bathroom off to the right and she ducked in to wash her face as best she could, then appropriated the toothpaste sitting on the small shelf beside the sink and brushed her teeth with her index finger. She thought about calling her mom to explain why she wouldn’t be home but decided it was too late to wake her.
When she came out Jon took his turn. It was dark in the bedroom, the only illumination coming from the moonlight streaming through the window and around the closed bathroom door. Still wearing her scrubs, which she figured would be relatively comfortable to sleep in, she slid into the far side of the bed, as close to the edge as possible without falling off. Just as she settled on her back he opened the bathroom door and turned out the light.
She was pretty sure he’d taken off his shirt. It was just a glimpse before the darkness closed in, but a really good glimpse. Except that she wanted a better—and by better she meant longer—look. Maybe a touch.
Oh, dear God, it was going to be a long night. She rolled on her side with her back to him. As ideas went, this was not one of the best and unfortunately it had been hers. On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the worst, the reality of sharing a bed with Jon was a fifteen. It pushed twenty when she felt the mattress dip from his weight. And the masculine scent of his skin drifted to her, firing up her hormones even more.
Her Maverick M.D. Page 14