Orgasm Whisperer, indeed.
Burrowing deeper under the blankets for a stolen second, Natalie let herself relive everything that had happened between her and Jonah after she’d gotten home from Charlie’s last night. Despite the fact that she’d been certain her fledgling attraction to him had been mutual, part of her had been stunned he’d said yes when she’d asked him to take her virginity. Of course, she had been both logical and convincing, and his stipulations had covered all the potential sticking points. Natalie hadn’t expected a trial run on his couch, and while she trusted Jonah enough to know he’d do all that he could to make her first true sexual encounter a positive one, she definitely hadn’t expected the intensity that had accompanied their little getting-to-know-you session.
The transition from the man who’d been her best friend for three years to the man who’d agreed to seduce her had been more seamless than Natalie had expected, she mused from under the covers. Nothing awkward between them. No urge to giggle or get shy when he’d leaned in to kiss her mouth. When he’d moved lower, sparking a need deep in her body that she’d never known could exist. When he’d touched her so intimately, yet so hotly that she’d flown apart—God, even when he’d set her clothes back into place after she’d come, it had all been so easy and familiar and Jonah.
And she’d liked it.
No. That wasn’t quite right.
She’d wanted him so badly, it took her breath away.
Welcome to the part she really hadn’t expected. Yes, she was curious, and definitely yes, she was turned on. But when Jonah had touched her, Natalie’s want had been more profound than simple arousal. She’d needed…something, although she still wasn’t sure how to quantify it. She’d gotten close to it, oddly, not when Jonah had made her come (more intensely than she ever had in her life, BTW), but when he’d talked to her. He’d called her sweetheart and said she was beautiful, and they might have just been terms of endearment, all part of the process designed to give her the pleasure he’d promised, but in that moment, Natalie had felt them. She’d felt cared for. Seen.
Which was completely whack-a-doo. Yes, she was attracted to Jonah. Yes, she trusted him, and dear sweet Jesus, yes, he came by that Orgasm Whisperer thing honestly. But they’d agreed it would just be sex.
And if last night was any indication, it was going to be seriously great sex. She’d get what she’d asked for, then she’d be able to move on and find someone to date with the experience under her belt (so to speak), and without the weirdness of her virginity hanging over it all.
You are beautiful…see…
Natalie rolled over, taking one last minute to savor the warmth of the covers and the chance to rest. But then the light trying to poke past the window blinds registered, the ripple of confusion running the length of her spine quickly turning to alarm as she grabbed her cell phone and checked the time.
“Shit!” Natalie’s heart thwacked against her breastbone. How could she have slept this late? She might sleep like the dead once she crashed, but her body had a flawless internal clock. She never overslept for something important, ever.
Except, apparently, today.
Whipping the covers back and stumbling out of futonlandia—ugh, her muscles were achy, too?—she flew across the hall to grab her toothbrush, then hustled toward the kitchen in search of the caffeine jolt she obviously needed. Jonah stood at the kitchen counter in a pair of sweatpants and a compression T-shirt that suggested he’d already been to the gym, his brows lifting up as she rapidly brushed her teeth with one hand and reached for a coffee mug with the other.
“Whoa, where’s the fire?”
“I oeuhflap.”
“Okay, that can’t be English,” he said, reaching for the coffeepot and filling the mug she’d taken from the cupboard.
Natalie rolled her eyes, mostly at herself, and used the kitchen sink to rinse her mouth and toothbrush. “I overslept.”
More shock moved over Jonah’s handsome face. “For your Saturday?”
“I’m volunteering at the clinic. There’s a free flu shot drive today, and they’re already understaffed on normal days. Plus, Annabelle’s coming in for a post-op check this afternoon, too.”
“Yeah?” Jonah’s expression brightened. “Want company?”
“Are you serious?” she asked, and hey, look at that. Now they were both surprised.
Jonah recovered first. “No, I’m totally kidding. Jeez, Nat, of course, I’m serious. You just said they’re understaffed, right?”
They were underfunded, too, if the lack of decent equipment and supplies was anything to go by, but it wasn’t a detail Natalie had time to add. “Well, yes. It seems like there are never enough doctors or PAs on the clinic schedule to tend to the people who come in seeking care.”
“Okay, then. I’ve been meaning to put in some volunteer hours, and this way, I can spend a little time with my favorite patient while I’m at it.”
“You’re not poaching my patient,” Natalie said, burying her involuntary smile in her coffee mug.
One corner of Jonah’s mouth ticked up into the half-smile that fully charmed its intended target far more often than not. “Too late. I’m a Disney prince, remember?”
Before she could pop off with a tart reply—and oh, how she wanted to—he jerked his chin toward the hallway, his smile still firmly in place. “Go take the first shower, and while you’re getting dressed, I’ll take mine. I hit the gym, so I can’t skip it, but I’ll go fast. In the meantime, I’ll put more coffee in a travel mug and run a bagel through the toaster for you. Sound good?”
An odd feeling, adjacent to guilt, perked in Natalie’s chest. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’ll just make my own breakfast after I get dressed. Or if there isn’t time, I’ll grab something when I get a break. I’ll be fine.”
His expression remained completely affable. His words, however? Wouldn’t budge despite the charisma with which he delivered them. “Come on, Kendrick. It’ll take me two minutes, and I have to wait for you to shower, anyway. I know you’re the Energizer Bunny, but you’ve got to eat.”
She frowned, but also didn’t have time to argue with him. “Fine. I’ll be out of the shower in ten, tops.”
The hot water eased the weird ache out of her muscles easily enough, and between her adrenaline and the caffeine boost, she made quick work of getting ready. Grabbing the roll of snowman stickers she’d picked up on her last trip to the store and stuffing it into her bag, she returned to the kitchen, where Jonah was waiting, as promised. It was unfair, really, that he could look so good with so little prep, blond hair tousled, five o’clock shadow looking far more sexy than sloppy, jeans and Henley fashionably broken-in and flawlessly molded to his body. For a second, Natalie considered the shower-damp knot she’d twisted her hair into, the lightning-fast combination of powder/lip gloss/fuck it she’d applied to her face. But she’d be administering flu shots and throat cultures all day, for God’s sake, not heading down a runway. Plus, Jonah had seen her look far more bedraggled than this, after twenty-four-hour shifts and hellish on-calls that had felt like they’d lasted a month.
You are beautiful…
“Ready?” he asked, handing over a travel mug and a sesame seed bagel, split and toasted and slathered with cream cheese.
Her stomach rumbled, even though she hadn’t realized it was so empty. “Yep. Ahhh, thank you.” She took as big a sip of the coffee as the heat of it would allow. “I guess you’re right. Even the Energizer Bunny needs fuel.”
“I can drive if you want to eat on the way,” he offered, tacking on, “and you don’t have to worry. Your secret need for food is safe with me.”
“Ha-ha. You’re hilarious. Really.”
They both laughed as they made their way out of the apartment, then down to the spot where he’d parked his Lexus. Natalie spent a minute devouring the bagel—sesame seed was her favorite—then going to work on her coffee, before Jonah broke the comfortable silence.
“Did you sleep okay?”
The question arrived innocently enough. Hell, he’d probably asked her the exact same thing hundreds of times, all part of the friendly small talk they shared whenever they rode to work together or hooked up on a break in between procedures and patients. But somehow, this time, it carried a layer of concern, as if maybe she’d slept poorly from unease.
She laughed, both in an effort to reassure him and because it couldn’t be helped. “I slept too okay. Last night was…”
“Good?” Jonah supplied, his smile cocky.
Her cheeks heated. “I’m never living that down, am I?”
“Nope,” he told her with glee. “But I’m glad you think it was.”
“I really do.”
Natalie’s ear-to-ear grin slipped when her cell phone buzzed with a text, then disappeared as the words on the screen registered.
Don’t forget your re-check! Love you.
She met Jonah’s quizzical look with a sigh. “My mom, reminding me for the seven hundredth time to go get my blood drawn for my annual checkup. But I’m seriously fine. I wish she wouldn’t worry.”
“That’s a good one,” Jonah said. When he realized Natalie had given him the brows-up treatment, he elaborated, although somewhat sheepishly. “It’s just that you not wanting anyone to worry about you is a little ironic, since you go so far above and beyond for everyone else.”
“Lots of people do that, though. Caregiving is a huge part of both our jobs,” she pointed out. They were surgeons, for God’s sake. They couldn’t exactly take care of people halfway.
Jonah countered. “Okay, but that’s work. I’m talking about the rest of the time. Take today, for example. Of all the attendings—hell, of all the staff at Remington Mem, including Langston, who’s in charge of everybody—who volunteers the most hours at the clinic?”
Shit. “The clinic is way understaffed, and the people who go there need care,” Natalie said.
“I agree. But that’s not what I asked.”
She frowned. She didn’t hate the time she volunteered there, but she did hate that she was on her way to losing this argument. “Fine. I do.”
“Mmm. And who spent over an hour the other day calling around to find a contractor who specializes in restoring older homes when the current one ran into all those snags with the plumbing in your apartment?”
Damn it, she was oh for two. “Come on, Jonah. Agnes has had to hire four different contractors to fix that mess, plus a structural engineer. The poor woman is in her eighties. She’s frazzled enough as it is trying to juggle them all.”
“I’m not saying your kindness is a bad thing, Nat.” Jonah coasted to a stop at a red light, then turned to look at her, his eyes backing up what he’d said. “You take care of a lot of people, and that’s great. I’m just wondering who takes care of you.”
“I do,” she said with a laugh. “It’s called adulting.”
He arched a brow as if to say really? “Not like that. For Chrissake, you’re one of the most intelligent, independent people I know. I’m fully aware that you can pay your taxes and go to the grocery store and get your oil changed. I’m talking about the other stuff. The kind of stuff that you do for Tess and Charlie and Annabelle and Agnes. Even me.”
Natalie paused. They were getting into dicey territory, she knew. But still, something made her say, “Well, my parents are very caring, and we’re obviously close.” She held up her phone, the text message from her mother still emblazoned across the screen.
“But you don’t let them take care of you. Medical reminders aside.”
“They’ve already done that. A lot.” Her heart tapped in stern warning, and for the first time ever, she didn’t heed it. “Do you remember last weekend, when Annabelle didn’t tell Rachel that her incision site hurt, even though it clearly did?”
“Yeah.” His expression grew serious, and he stared through the windshield. “The poor kid must’ve been in some serious pain. I don’t know how she didn’t say anything.”
“I do.”
The admission slipped out without the consent of her better judgment. But now that she’d aired it, she might as well follow through. “Being a cancer kid is hard. I mean, the physical challenges are a given, but…it’s tough emotionally, too. There were times I would’ve given anything to be well, not for me, but for my parents.”
“Most pediatric cancer treatments are pretty brutal for everyone involved,” Jonah said quietly, and Natalie nodded.
“My cancer was really hard on my parents, even though they tried their best not to show it.” She doubted either one of them would admit the struggle, even now, eighteen years after the fact. “We couldn’t be like normal families. Everything hinged on how I was feeling, what my white cell counts were. Chemo treatments, scans, procedures. My mother even quit her job, a job she loved, to take care of me.”
Jonah shook his head. “I’m sure she loved her job, but you’re her kid. You’re close.” Another beat passed, his voice growing strangely tight. “She loves you more.”
“I know she loves me,” Natalie said, because she really did. “But she and my dad, they both went without vacations, new cars, a bigger house, pretty much everything that wasn’t absolutely necessary because the cost of the treatments was exorbitant, even with insurance. My brother and sister missed out on a lot, too. No travel baseball teams, no hosting sleepovers. They barely got to spend time with either of my parents one-on-one for four whole years.”
“You didn’t choose to have leukemia, Nat. You can’t blame yourself for having been sick,” Jonah said, and Natalie laughed at the irony.
“I might not have chosen it, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen anyway, and it damn sure doesn’t mean I feel any less guilt for what my family went through because I was sick. They worried all day, every day, for years. I hated it.” She broke off for a breath, even though she knew it would do nothing to firm her voice when she continued. “I hate it still. Not because my parents hover, although that can get frustrating at times. But…I hate that they still worry that something might happen to me, no matter how much I insist that I’m fine. I just want them to be happy. Like, really happy, the way they should’ve been when I was growing up. The way they would’ve been if I’d never had leukemia.”
“Wait.” A V formed over the bridge of Jonah’s nose, growing deeper with each passing second, and her heart pounded as she watched him mentally connect the dots. “Is that why you do that thing you do? Where you always say you’re fine?”
“I don’t always do it,” Natalie said. Old defenses died hard, apparently.
Just as old friends called bullshit when it was warranted. “You’re not really going to go with that, are you? I can count a dozen times that you’ve gone the ‘I’m fine’ route, this week alone.”
She exhaled slowly. “Okay, but a lot of the time, I really am fine.”
“And other times, you’re not, even though you tell everyone you are.”
Leave it to Jonah to get right to the heart of the matter. Natalie had spent her entire life looking at the bright side. Caring for other people, sometimes at the expense of her own needs. Trying to atone for guilt that logic told her she shouldn’t have, but life had placed directly into her chest, regardless. So she had no choice but to say, “Yes. Sometimes I’m not, even though I tell everyone I am.”
“So, the answer is no one.”
Natalie replayed the last minute of their conversation in her head, but still came up empty. “The answer to...?”
Jonah pulled into a parking spot across from the clinic, putting the Lexus in park before turning to look at her. “Who takes care of you?”
“I’m f—” She bit down on the default an instant before it launched. Damn it. “Trying.”
If his expression was anything to go on, the reply surprised them both. “You are?” he asked.
“Maybe not with my parents,” she admitted. After all, not wanting to be smothered was only half the reason she’d begged Jonah to let her stay with him
when that bathtub had one-wayed into her living room, even if she hadn’t been able to tell him that at the time. “I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to not do everything in my power to assure them that they don’t need to worry about me. But maybe…”
Natalie had to give him credit. Jonah waited out her silence patiently, without pressing. It made it all too easy for her to say, “I know you think it’s stupid, but maybe that’s why I’m looking for someone to eventually get serious with. I don’t need saving, or anything.” She paused to snort, eking out a smile when she realized Jonah had made the exact same sound at the exact same time. “But it would be nice to find someone to have my back. To give me the last bite of cheesecake, and laugh when I’m happy. To feel sad when I’m sad. Maybe losing my virginity so I can actively date without having to worry about it is my way of saying I’m ready to find someone who will take care of me like that.”
“I don’t think that’s stupid in the least,” Jonah said.
The emotion that Natalie had seen in her dream flashed over his face, there and then gone in the same breath, and she realized with a start that she hadn’t invented it at all. She’d seen it last night, too, darkening his eyes and then disappearing with the same swiftness, as if he were so well-practiced at covering it up, it barely lasted long enough to register with most people.
Natalie wasn’t most people.
But before she could say so much as a syllable, he was dishing up that dazzling smile of his, winking at her in a way that only he could get away with as charming over cheesy and making her wonder—yet again—if she’d been seeing things, after all.
“In fact, I think that’s perfect for you, and I really hope you find it. Now, did you want to head in and start taking care of some patients? There’s already a line of people waiting at the door, and I have a feeling today is going to keep us on our toes.”
14
Jonah lowered himself into the chair behind the clinic’s intake desk and exhaled a long, slow breath. If he never saw another flu shot again, it’d be too freaking soon. They’d been slammed with patients from the second they’d opened the doors, fielding complaints of everything from contusions to chest pain, and he’d treated as many of those patients as he’d been able to, as well. Easier said than done, with the shortage of supplies and the outdated or even absent equipment necessary for some of the tests and procedures he’d wanted to perform. Jonah had needed to get creative in a few cases—lucky for him, his experience dealing with traumas made him fast on his feet.
Better Than Me (A Remington Medical Contemporary Romance) Page 14