“That’s correct,” the doctor told him. “I’ll leave instructions, though, for your mother to be shown directly to an examination room. People sometimes walk through the side waiting area.”
That could have been a disaster. “Thank you,” he told her sincerely.
She turned to the man next to her. “This is my husband, Rich.” He shook hands with Logan. “Rich, you remember my favorite nurses from the hospital – Emily Scott, Debbie Boone, Butch Dagon, and Willow Simpson?” She indicated each one of them as she named them. After he nodded and smiled at each one of them, she added, “They’re with their significant others.”
“Naomi, Director Nevins would like to have a word with you,” Dr. Foster politely interrupted.
“If you’ll all excuse me…” The doctor and her husband followed Dr. Foster.
The small group of people resumed their conversation. Butch, appearing to be over his initial excitement about meeting Brody, turned out to be a masterful storyteller, having them all in stitches.
“I picked up a patient at one of the nursing homes to bring him back to the hospital for some x-rays. The chart they handed me had the name ‘Elwood Johnson’ on it.” Everybody listened attentively. “I go into the room the nurse tells me he’s in. Two men are sittin’ in wheelchairs watchin’ TV. I ask them which one was Mr. Johnson. One of them told me he was, so I told him he needed to come with me for some tests. He was a nice old guy—I didn’t have any trouble getting him to the hospital and to radiology. Once we’re there, the technician tells me there’s just one problem. The man wasn’t Mr. Johnson. I asked him why he told me he was, and he insisted it was true. It took a good hour to get it straightened out. Do you know what the problem was? His father’s name was John Richards, so he was John’s son.”
“That did not happen,” Emily accused him as they all started laughing.
Butch moved his fingers across his chest. “Cross my heart.” He frowned at her. “You know I always get the kooks.”
That was true, but he also liked to make people laugh.
Emily decided she and Logan needed to make the rounds. She was feeling a little…strange.
She soon found herself laughing a little too enthusiastically about the new puppy one of the women in admissions had just gotten.
“Logan?” He wondered why she had put her mouth so close to his ear, and then spoken so loudly. What was wrong with her?
“What?” he asked in a much quieter voice, searching her eyes, which were unfocused.
“I shouldn’t have had that last glass of wine.” She spoke in a slightly softer voice. Then she hiccupped.
He looked at her strangely. “Are you drunk, Emily?”
She held her thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. “I think juss a little.”
He hadn’t paid attention to how many drinks she accepted from the servers mingling with the crowd, replacing empty glasses with full ones, but he didn’t think it had been more than a couple.
She grinned at him. “You’re really hot. Didja know that? I think you’ve got the sexiestest body in the whole wide world!”
Emily was wobbling. “I think you’re schnockered.” He quickly moved her farther away from the small group of people they had been talking to—ones she had introduced as office staff and their spouses. “Let’s find Brody and Abby.”
“Less find a bed.” She tilted her head and tried to kiss him.
He put his hand on her shoulder and righted her. “Come on, Em. We’ve got to get you out of here before you embarrass yourself in front of all these people.” She couldn’t have drunk that much wine. His eyes scanned the room, searching for their friends.
Just when he thought he was going to have to call a taxi, he spotted them. The problem was, they were clear across the room. He had no idea how he was going to get an inebriated and very amorous Emily across the room and back, without her doing something that embarrassed both of them. She had given up on his lips and turned her attention toward his nether regions. He finally noticed a group of chairs off to the side. Nobody was around them. He’d just get her to sit on one of those until he could get Brody and Abby so they could leave.
After unwrapping her arms from around his neck several times, and gently removing her hand from his fly, he left her sitting—a little off center—while he went to talk to his friend.
Emily was lonely. And she wanted Logan. She really wanted Logan.
“Emily, is that you?”
Who was that? “Paul Finley…”
“Findley. Did you already forget me?” He sat in the chair next to hers.
“Have you seen Logan? I want him to take me to bed, but he’s making me wait.” Her voice sounded strange.
“How much have you had to drink?” he gently asked.
She held her thumb and forefinger an inch apart, then spread them farther. “Thiss mush.”
He chuckled. “Is Logan here?”
She looked around her, focusing on the empty chair. “I don’t see him.” She hiccupped. “Do you?”
“Where did Logan go?” Why was he smiling at her like that? She wanted Logan, and she was tired of waiting.
“Didja know he doesn bleve I love him. I have to wait sree—three more moths—months before he’ll bleve I love him. I want him to take me to bed now. He’s really sexy, Paul. Didja know that?” Maybe he’d understand and help her plead her case when Logan got back. Where had he gone anyway? He’d better not have gone off with Mandy Little. Maybe he had. He was tired of waiting, too, so he snuck off with her, and they were in a broom closet having wild monkey sex. He’d left her there while he went off to have sex with Mandy Little. She began to cry.
“What’s wrong, Emily?” Paul asked, concern in his voice.
“Logan iss in the closet having wild monkeee sex with the hossspital floozy.” She started to sob.
Paul sighed with what appeared to be relief. “Logan’s coming, Emily. He’s not very far away.”
Brody and Abby had gone out to get the car while Logan went to collect Emily. He was unhappy to find Paul Findley sitting next to her. They had dated—at least once—when she was mad at Logan. What was he doing? What was she doing?
“Why is she crying, Findley?” he demanded, as he knelt in front of Emily.
“You leff me here while you had wild monkeee sex with Mandy Liddle.” She answered him between sobs.
“Emily, I did not. I told you I was going to get Brody and Abby so we could leave.” How could she have drunk that much wine without him noticing, and why had it seemed to take effect so suddenly?
“You won’t haf wild monkeee sex with me, so you went to the broom closet and had it with her.” She evidently wasn’t listening to reason. He really didn’t want Paul Findley listening to her ramblings, either.
Maybe Paul felt as uncomfortable with the situation as Logan did because he quickly excused himself and left.
“Emily, you’ve got to stop crying. I love you, and you know it. Now, let’s get outside and see if Brody and Abby have the car.” He tried to speak firmly, but it was hard to see her crying for any reason—no matter how absurd it was.
She suddenly burst into laughter. “We’ll haf wild monkeee sex in the car.” She sure was fixated on wild monkey sex. Where had she picked that one up? He never planned on having sex with her. He was going to make love to her—when the time was right. There was certainly no use explaining that to her now, though.
“Can you walk?” He helped her stand and led her the short distance to the front door. Thankfully, nobody seemed to notice her intoxicated stumbling. There was her hand, back on his fly. “Stop it, Emily.” He firmly took her hand and pulled it away.
“Okay.” She surprised him by agreeing. “We’ll wait until we’re in the car.”
He almost hoped she passed out in the car. Otherwise, it was going to be a thirty-minute ride with an amorous octopus.
It was. She finally conked out, just as they pulled up to her house.
“I don’t und
erstand it, Abby.” He was extricating himself from her grasping hands, now slack. “She couldn’t have had that much to drink.”
Abby started to get out of the car. “I don’t know.” She froze and turned to look at Logan. “You don’t think she’d taken one of her nerve pills, do you?”
“Nerve pills?” He didn’t know anything about Emily being on medication.
Abby looked guilty. “I don’t think she wanted you to know because you’d worry. She’s started having occasional panic attacks. If she knows she’ll be exposed to something that’s going to make her nervous, or remind her too much of her parents, she can take her medication ahead of time to keep from having one. Her parents never missed the fundraiser.” Her brows furrowed with concern. “Do you think she’s okay? If she mixed her medication with alcohol, I mean?”
Logan quickly checked Emily’s pulse and breathing. It seemed normal to him, except for an occasional hiccup. “Maybe we’d better call the pharmacy’s twenty-four-hour hotline just to make sure.”
He got out and walked around to where Brody had opened the door. Logan pulled Emily’s keys out of his pocket and handed them to Abby. “If you’ll get the door open, I’ll carry her in.”
Abby easily located the correct key and was unlocking the door as Logan leaned into the car over Emily. He maneuvered them both and gently lifted her. It reminded him of the night after she’d found out about her parents. Aaron had called and told him that Emily kept saying she wanted him. It was when he first saw her lying there, heartbroken, that he knew, for then and for always, she was the woman he was meant to love.
His mind raced as he carried her in and laid her on her bed. Abby went into the bathroom and found the prescription bottle before she called the hotline. She’d need to tell them exactly what Emily had taken before they could provide accurate information.
He pulled her shoes off and kicked his own off, too. After he had removed all but his pants and shirt, he lay down beside her and pulled her limp body against him. Panic attacks. Why hadn’t she told him? Had she thought he wouldn’t love her anymore? That he couldn’t deal with two women who had issues? He’d have to convince her that nothing could ever change the way he felt about her.
He must have drifted off because the next thing he knew, Abby was shaking his shoulder.
“They said she’s going to have one whopper of a hangover tomorrow, but she’s on a low enough dose she’ll be okay.” A tear ran down her face. “If she’d have been taking a stronger pill, she could have ended up in a coma—or worse.”
Brody, who Logan’s sleep-hazed mind hadn’t noticed, put his arms around Abby. “She didn’t though, sweetheart. She’s going to be okay.”
“He said she shouldn’t be left alone tonight in case she gets sick.” She shuddered. “She could choke on her own…I’ll spend the night with her.”
Logan shook his head. “I’m fine right here. You go ahead and go home. I’ll call you if anything happens and we need you. I promise.”
Abby’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure?”
“I love her, Abby.” He hoped she saw the truth in his eyes. “There’s no way I’m leaving Emily.”
Abby slowly nodded. “Okay. You have my number?”
“Brody, would you get my phone? It’s on the dresser.” He waited until his friend had his cell. “Please program Abby’s number into it. You may as well put her in as speed dial five. I don’t ever need to talk to Coop that bad.”
Brody did as Logan asked. “Satisfied?” he asked Abby once he’d finished.
“Yes.” She walked to the other side of the bed and leaned over to softly kiss Emily’s cheek. Her gaze met Logan’s. “I love her, too.”
He smiled at her. “I know.”
She straightened up, then turned to slowly follow Brody out of the room. Logan heard the front door close a couple of minutes later.
He reached around Emily and tucked her tightly against him. His last thoughts as sleep claimed him were of how perfect she felt there.
Chapter 35
When Emily awoke, she knew exactly where she was—in Logan’s arms. What she didn’t know was how she got there. She searched her mind. The last thing she remembered was Teresa Grimes from admissions talking about her new puppy. What happened?
Logan was softly snoring, so she tried to lift his arm and slide out from under it. It tightened like a steel vise, though. She wasn’t going anywhere until he let her. When she turned to wake him up, throbbing pain shot through her head. Her mouth was full of cotton. Great. She didn’t remember what happened, or how she had gotten home, and now she felt…hung-over. She must have been trashed. Funny, though. Emily didn’t think she had more than a couple of glasses of wine.
“Are you awake?” Logan’s husky voice was next to her ear.
“Yes, and I need to use the bathroom. Will you let go of me?” She had just realized she needed to go—now!
He lifted his arm. When she moved, she felt nauseous. She had only been drunk one other time in her life—in college—and the aftereffects had made her decide to never let it happen again.
A few minutes later, she was back in bed beside Logan. After her pounding head and nausea had cheered her on every step of the way to the bathroom, she decided lying down was her best option. Brushing her teeth had helped her cotton mouth, at least.
“What happened?”
“Why didn’t you tell me about your panic attacks?” he quietly asked, shocking her.
“What…how…?”
“Em, you drank alcohol after you took your medication last night. The pharmacist told Abby if your dosage had been stronger, you could have ended up in a coma.” His voice was steel wrapped in velvet.
Emily felt stupid. She was a nurse, for heaven’s sake. She knew better than to mix medication and alcohol. It was just that her parents had always attended the fundraiser, and she was worried she’d have an attack, so she took one of the pills Dr. Tamarind prescribed for her. It wasn’t just that she didn’t want to have a panic attack in public; she didn’t want to have one in front of Logan.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded again.
She took a ragged breath. “You’d make us wait longer.”
He didn’t understand. “I’d make us wait longer for what?”
“For you to believe I love you. If you knew I was still having trouble dealing with Mom and Dad…you’d think I still didn’t know my own heart.” She felt her eyes well with tears. “You’d make us wait longer.” Three more months already felt like an eternity.
Logan sighed as he pulled her head and shoulders up onto his chest. “I understand why you still feel sad about your parents, Em. There isn’t some kind of time limit for how long you can mourn.”
“You’ve given me a time limit until you’ll believe I love you.”
He used his hand to tilt her face so he could look into her eyes. “That’s different. I know you believe you love me right now. I want us to take our time so you can be sure, because once we’re together—really together—it’s going to last forever, Emily. I’m counting on it to last forever.”
“I know it will now,” she insisted.
He moaned as he ran his hand over his face. “Can we look at it another way?”
“How?” She couldn’t imagine any way of looking at it that would make waiting satisfy her.
“If…”
“When,” she interrupted.
“Okay. When December gets here and you still love me, that’s going to be the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten.” She looked at his hopeful expression. “The best Christmas present for both of us.”
She had noticed how he played with the words until he was still not saying “when” she still loved him but knew it wasn’t going to get her anywhere to keep insisting.
“Okay.” She was giving up. For now. She needed to find out about the night before. “Did I embarrass us at the party?”
Logan chuckled. “Let’s put it this way. I’ve never dreamed of b
eing as thoroughly accosted as I was last night.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You wanted us to have wild monkey sex. In a broom closet, I think. And you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.” He smiled at her obvious embarrassment. “Of course, there were those few minutes when you were crying because you decided I was already in the broom closet having wild monkey sex with the hospital floozy, as you call her.”
“Oh, my gosh, Logan,” she moaned. “Please tell me I didn’t do all of that in front of my bosses and colleagues. Or those people who keep us up and running.”
He thought about teasing her but then didn’t have the heart. “I managed to corral you. You did put on a little performance for your old date, though.”
“Old date?”
“Paul Findley—I have no idea what you told him before I found you together, but he was blushing and wasted no time in getting away from us once I got back.”
She smacked his hard chest. “You think this is funny, don’t you?”
“Since you’re okay, yes, I do.” He chuckled. “You were so persistent on the way home last night, Brody had to adjust the rear-view mirror so he wouldn’t accidentally see what was going on.”
Emily could easily imagine herself all over Logan, doing, or at least trying to do, all the things she wanted to do to him. Her face grew warm. “Why are you in bed with me, then?”
“You passed out.” He sobered. “The pharmacist told Abby that you shouldn’t be left alone in case you got sick, and there was no way I was leaving you anyway, so I stayed.
She was aggravated. “You know, for two people who are waiting to be together, we sure sleep in the same bed an awful lot.”
“Ah, but it’s what we’ll be doing in that bed that’s going to make the difference, Emily.” He kissed her nose. “I promise.”
“Will you stay until I get out of the shower?” She felt grungy.
Counting On It (Hearts for Ransom Book 1) Page 19